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MODERN 


LANGUAGE  NOTES. 


A.      MARSHALL      ELLIOTT, 

MANAGING  EDITOR. 

JAMES    W.  BRIGHT,  HANS  C.  G.  VON  JAGEMANN, 
HENRY  ALFRED  TODD, 

ASSOCIATE  EDITORS. 


-*> 


VOLUME    XI 
1896. 

BALTIMORE  :  THE   EDITORS. 


-Mb 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


ORIGINAL   ARTICLES. 

K  u hns,    L.   Oscar,    Dante's    Treatment    of 

Nature  In  the  Divina  Commedia 1-17 

I  Inline,  Wm.  H.,  Quantity-Marks  in  Old- 
English  Ms 17-24 

^  Wiener,  Leo,  The  Ferrara  Bible,  II 24-42 

Marden,  C.  C.,8ome  Mexican  Versions  of  the 

"  Brer  Rabbit "  Stories 43-4« 

Keidel,  George  C.,  An  Early  Edition  of  ^Esop's 

Fables 48-48 

Henneman,  J.  B.,  The  Thirteenth  Annual 
Convention  of  the  Modern  Language 

Association  of  America 65-84 

\J  Wiener,  Leo,  The  Ferrara  Bible.  Ill 84-105 

Williams,  R.  O.,  Till  in  the  Sense  of  Before. . .      105-111 

Gerber,  A.,  Raphael's  Poesy  and  Poesy  in 

Faust 111-113 

Wood,  Francis  A.,  Schnoerkel 113-115 

.  Blackburn,   F.   A.,  Note  on  Alfred's  Cura 

Pcutoralis 115-116 

Menger,  L.  E.,  On  the  Development  of  Popu- 
lar Latin  e  into  French  ei,  ol 116-120 

Cameron,  A.  Guyot,  France,  Filology,  Fonet- 

icism  and  Poetic  Formulae 129-146 

.  Fulton,  Edward,  On  the  Authorship  of  the 

Anglo-Saxon  Poem  Phoenix 146-169 

Pugh,  A.  Reese,  Note  Upon  some  Similarities 
between  Le  Grand  Cyrus  and  Le  Misan- 
thrope  

Pound,  L.,  The  Komaunt  of  the  Rose,  Addi- 
tional Evidence  that  it  is  Chaucer's  — 

Eggert,  C.  A.,  Goethe  and  Diderot  on  Actors 
and  Acting 

Diekhof  f ,  T.,  A  Suggestion  on  Lessing's  Kein 
Mensch  Muss  Mtiessen.. 

Tappan,  E.  M.,  Nicolas  Breton  and  George 

Gascoigne 235-227 

Fay,  E.  W.,  Some  Linguistic  Suggestions —      227-332 

Hempl,  George,  The  Stress  of  German  and 
English  Compounds  in  Geographical 
Names 233-239 

Cameron,  A.  Guyot,  France,  Filology,  Fonet- 

icism  and  Poetic  Formulae.  II 2157-273 

Shelling,  Felix  E.,  Poems  of  Shirley  At- 
tributed to  Carew  and  Gof  fe 273-277 

Fontaine,  Camille,  Emile  Zola 277-383 

Schmidt,  F.  G.  G.,  The  Dialect  of  the  Ries. . .      283-388 

Woodward,  B.  D.,  Note  on  Racine's  "  Iphi- 

genie,"  Act  I,  sc.  l.v.  91 288-390 

Shipley,   George,   Additional   Note   on   the 

Order  of  the  Canterbury  Tales 290-293 

Hohlfeld,  A.  R.,  Contributions  to  a  Biblio- 
graphy of  Racine 293-302 

Pietsch,  Karl,  Notes  to  Scbelling's  Book  of 

Elizabethan  Lyrics 303-311 

.    Schlutter,  Otto  B.,  Notes  on  Hall's  Concise 

Anglo-Saxon  Dictionary.  1 331-335 

Bierwirth,  Conrad,  Noch  —  its  English  Equiv- 
alents and  the  Relative  Frequency  of 
their  Occurrence 335-348 

Hempl,  George,  The  Old-English  Runes  for 

a  and  o 348-352 

Wiener,  Leo,  English  Lexicography 353-3C6 


Wood,  Francis  A.,  Final  »  in  Germanic 

Bowen,  E.  W.,  The  History  of  a  Vulgarism.. 

Gore.  Willard  C.,  Notes  on  Slang 

Wiener,  Leo,  The  Cancionero  General  de 
Castillo  :  Edition  of  1517.  I 

Hempl,  George,  The  Misrendering  of  Nu- 
merals, particularly  In  the  Old-English 
Version  of  Bede's  History 

Reeves,  W.  P.,  The  So-called  Prose  Version 
of  Guy  of  Warwick 

Schlutter,  Otto  B.,  Notes  on  Hall's  Concise 
Anglo-Saxon  Dictionary.  II 

Mather,  Frank  J.,  Jr.,  An  Inedited  Document 
Concerning  Chaucer's  First  Italian 
Journey 

Wells,  B.  W.,  Richardson  and  Rousseau 

Schmidt,  F.  G.  G.,  The  Dialect  of  the  Ries. 
II 

Effinger,  John  R.  Jr.,  Jean  Baptiste  Rousseau 
as  Historiographer 

Child,  C.G., Chaucer's  Legend  of  Good  Women 
and  Boccaccio's  de  Genealogia  Deorum. 

REVIEWS. 


Fortier,  A Ict'-e, Louisiana  Folk-Tales  in  French 

Dialect  and   English  Translation.    [A. 

Gerber] 

Braune,  Wilhelm,  Gotische  Grammatik.    [H. 

Schmidt-  Wartenberg] 

Fontaine,   C.,   Athalie  by   Racine.     [F.   M. 

Warren} 

Ec-gert,   C.   A.,   Racine's    Athalie.      [F.   if. 

Warren] 

Voretzsch,  Carl,   Die    Franzflsische  Helden- 

sage.    [  George  C.  Keidel] 

Wells,  Benj.  W.,  Modern  German  Literature. 

[Laurence  Fossler} 

Weise,  O.,  Unsere  Muttersprache.  ihr  Werden 

und  ihr  Wesen.  [  William  Guild  Howard^. 
Super,  O.  n.  Emilia  Galotti  von  Lessing. 

[Lewis  A .  Rhoades] 

'Poll,  Max,    Emilia   Galotti    von    Lessing. 

[Lewis  A .  Rhoades] 

Winkler,  Max,  Emilit»  Galotti  von  Lessing. 

[  Lewis  A .  Rhoades] j 

Hill,  A.  S.,  The  Principles  of  Rhetoric.  [II.] 

E.  Greene} ! 

Hart.J.  M.,  A  Handbook  of  English  Com-  | 

position,    f  H.  E.  Greene} ) 

Courthope,    W.   T.,  A    History   of    English 

Poetry-    [•*"•  w-  Tvpper] 

Sievers,  Eduard,  Abiiss  der  angflsSohsischen 

Gi-ammatik.    [Frederick  Klatber] 

Bergeron,  Eugi'-nie,  Eug'nie  Grandet,  par  | 

Balx-ac.    (H.  L.  Bowen} j 

Eggert,  C.  A.,  La  Frontiere,  par  Claretie.  ^ 

[B.  L.  Bmven] 

Ellinger,  Jr. .John  R.,  Selected  Essays  from 

Sainte  Beuve.     [B.  L.  Botcen] J 

Fltlgel-Schmidt-Tanger.WOrterbuch  der  Eng- 

lischen  und   Deutschen   Sprat-he    fuer 

Hand- und  Schiilgerbrauch.    [H.  C.  G. 

Brandt] 


386-370 
370-375 
385-395 

395-403 


403-404 
401-408 
408419 

419-4% 
419-463 

464-470 
470-476 
476-4K) 


49-53 
52-53 
120-131 
131-123 
123-134 
173-180 
180-186 


341-349 


311-315 
I175-37H 


380-383 


OB  !•> 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


"   inemann,  Karl,  Goethe.    [Jtax  Winkler]...      438-430 

v^esareo,  G.  A.,  La  Poesia  Siciliana  Sotto  Gli 

Svevi.    [L.E.Menger] 430-442 

Loaning,  Richard,  Die  Hamlet  Tragfldie 
Shakespeares.  [  Wm.  11.  Uulme] 

Schroeder,  Eduard,  Shakspere:  Fttnf  Vor- 
lesungen  aus  dem  Nachlass  von  Ber- 
nard ten  Brink.  [  Wm.  H.  Hulme} .... 

Morley,  Henry,  Shakespeare  and  His  Time: 

Under  Elizabeth .    [Wm.  H.  Hulme}. . .  }•      490-568 

Brandl,Alois,Ftihrende  Geister:  Shakspere. 
[  Wm.  H.  Hulme] 

Morley-Griffln,  Shakespeare  and  His  Times: 
under  James  1.  [  Wm.  H.  Hulme] 

Brandes,  George,  William  Shakespeare. 
1-10  Lieferung.  [Wm.  H.  Hulme] 

Bolte-Schmidt,  AufsHtze  Uber  MHrchen  und 

Volkslieder .    [  C.  von  Klenze] 508-510 

CORRESPONDENCE. 

Francke,  Kuno,  Goethe  and  Mantegna 53-55 

Smith,  C.  Alphonso,  A  Note  on  the  Punctua- 
tion of  Lycidas 55-56 

Hart,  J.  M.,  To  Drinke  Eisel 56 

Colburn,  John  E.,  Merchant  of  Venice,  II,  2, 

11 56-57 

Pearce,   J.    W.,    Evangeline:    Aucassin  et 

Nicolete 57-58 

Scott,  M.  A.,  The  Origin  of  the  Word  Dunce. .  58-59 

Bourne,  Edward  G.,  Miracle  Plays 124-125 

Baker,  T.  S.,  "The  Devil  and  Doctor  Foster".  125-126 
Carpenter,  Frederic  Ives,  The  Elizabethan 

Attitude  towards  Insanity 186-188 

Lewis,  E.  H.,  Groovy 188-189 

Hart,  J.  M.,  A  Correction 189 


Hervey,  Wm.  Addison,  Written  Translation 

of  French  and    German   in   Teaching 

English  Composition 189-191 

Hulme,  Wm.  H.,  Miracle  Plays 249-252 

Menger,  L.  E.,  German  w-  into  French  gu —      252-254 
Gerber,  A.,  Raphael's  Poesy  and  Poesy  in 

Faust 254 

Child.  F.  J.,  English  Ballads 316-317 

Browne,  W.  H.,  English  Ballads 417-318 

Rambeau,   A.,  Mod.   Lang.   Association   of 

Germany 

Browne,  W.  H.,  Shakespeare  Paronomastes. . 

•Cook.  Albert  S.,  An  Anglo-Saxon  Gloss 

WUlflng,  J.  Ernst,  The  Anglo-Saxon  g*ftatf.. 
Shorey,  Paul,  A  Note  on  the  Text  of  the 

Nero 383-384 

Correction 384 

Milwitzky,  Wm.,  Romance  Work  at  Paris  in 

1895-96 442-446 

Francke,  Kuno,  Immermann's  "  Merlin  " . . . .  446 

Mather,  Frank  J.,  Jr.,  Chaucer  in  Italy 510-511 

Schlutter,  Otto  B.,  Notes  on  Hall's  Concise 

Anglo-Saxon  Dictionary.    Errata 511-512 

Meyer,  Edward,  Versteckens  Spieleus 512 

BRIEF  MENTION. 
60, 191-192,  446,  512. 

JOURNAL   NOTICES. 
73-64, 127-128,  255-226,  417-446. 

PERSONAL. 
61,  126. 

OBITUARY. 
61 -«2. 


INDEX  TO  VOLUME  xi,  1896. 


An  Early  Edition  of  —  .......... 

Alfred's  Cura  Pastoralis,  Note  on  —  ..............  58 

Anglo-Saxon,  On  the  Authorship  of  the  —  Poem 

Phoenix  ....................................  73~8s 

—  An  —  Gloss  .....................................  160 

—  The—  geftsef  ...................................  160 

—  Notes  on  Hall's  Concise  —  Dictionary.  1  ........  161-168 

—  "        "       "                       "        "        U  ........  204-210 

_    "       »«        "           "           "        "       Errata....  256 

—  Abriss  der  angelsKchsischen  Grammatik  ........  188-190 

Athalie  by  Racine  ............................     60-61,61-62 

Aucassin  et  Nicolete,  Evangeline  .................  29-30 

Baker,  T.  8.,  "  The  Devil  and  Doctor  Foster"  ----  63 
de  Balzac,  Honore1,  Eugrnie  Grandct  (see  Bergeron 

and  B.  L.  Bowen)  ........................  190-191 

Bede's  History,  Th«  Misrenderine  of  Numerals, 

particularly  in  th«  Old-English  Version  of  —  .  201-202 

Before,  Till  in  the  Sense  of  —  .....................  53~s6 

Bergeron,  Eugene,  Balzac  :  Eugenie  Grandet  (see 

B.  L.  Bowen)  ...............................  190-191 

Bierwirth,  Conrad,  Noch  —  its  English  Equivalents 

and  the  Relative  Frequency  of  their  Occur- 

rence .......................................  168-174 

Blackburn,  F.  A.,  Note  on  Alfred's  Cura  Pasto- 

ralis .......................................  58 

Boccaccio's,  Chaucer'*  Legend  of  Good  Women 

and  —  de  Genealogia  Deorum  ................  238-245 

Bourne,  Edw.  G.,  Miracle  Plays  .................  62-63 

Bowen,  B.  L.,  Bergeron:  Eugenie  Grandet  par 

Honor^  de  Balzac  ...........................  190-191 


23-24Cook.  Albert  S.,      Ad  Anglo-Saxon  Gloss. 


s  Claretie 


—  Eggert:  La  Frontifere,  par  Jule 

—  Emnger:  Selected  Essays  from 

Bowen,  E.  W.,  The  History  of  a  Vulgarism....... 

Sh 


Sainte  Beuve.  .  . 


191 

191-192 
185-188 
Brandes,  George,  William  Shakespeare  :  1-10  Lief- 

erung  (see  Hulme)  ..........................       245-254 

Braune,Wilhelm,Gotische  Grammatik  (see  Schmidt- 
Wartenberg)  ................................ 

"  Brer  Rabbit  "  Stories,   Some  Mexican  Versions 
of  the  —  ................................. 

Breton,  Nicolas,  and  George  Gascoigne  ........... 

ten  Brink,  B.,  Shakspere  :  Funf  Vorslesungen  aus 
dem  Nachlass(  see  Schroeder  and   Hulme).... 

Browne,  Wm.  Hand,  English  Ballads  .............. 

—  Shakespeare  Paronomastes  .................... 

Cameron,  A.  G.,  France,  Filology,  Foneticism  and 
Poetic  Formulae.    I  ......  .  .................. 


26-27 

22-23 
113-114 

245-254 
159 

160 


65~73 

—  "        "        "         "  ........................       "9-137 

Canterbury  Tales,  Additional  Note  on  the  Order  of 

th«  —  .....................................       I45-M7 

Carew,  Poems  of  Shirley  attributed  to  —  and 

Goffe  ......................................       137-139 

Carpenter,  F.  Ives,  The  Elizabethan  Attitude 

towards  Insanity  ...........................          93-94 

Castillo,  The  Cancionero  General  de  —  :  Edition  of 

1517.     1  ................................         198-201 

Cesareo,  G.  A.,  La  Poesia  Siciliana  Sotto  Gli  Svevi 

(see  Menger)  ..............................       215-221 

Chaucer's,  The  Rontaunt  of  the  Rost:  Additional 

Evidence  that  it^is  —  .......................        97-102 

—  An  Inedited  Document  Concerning  —  First  Italian 

Journey  ..........  .........................       210-213 

—  In  Italy  .......................................       255-256 

—  Legend   of  Good   Women   and    Boccaccio's    de 

Genealogia  Deorum  ........................       238-245 

Child,  C.  G.,  Chaucer's  Legend  of  Good    Women 

and  Boccaccio's  de  Genealogia    Deorum  ......       238-245 

Child,  F.  J.,  English  Ballads  .....................       158-159 

—  Correction  .....................................  192 

Claretie,  Jules,  La  Frontiere  (see  Eggert  and  B.  L. 

Bowen)  ....................................  191 

Colburn,  John  E.,  Merchant  of  Venice.     11,2,  n..  29 


Correction.. 

Courthope,  W.  T.,  A   History  of  English  Poetry 

(see  Tupper) 

Cura  Pastoralis,  Note  on  Alfred's  — 

Cyrus,  Le  Grand,  Note  upon  some  Similarities  be- 
tween—  and  Le  Misanthrope 

Dante's  Treatment  of  Nature  in  the  Divina  Corn- 
media  

"  Devil  (The)  and  Doctor  Foster  " 

Diderot,  Goethe  and  —  on  Actors  and  Acting 

Diekhoff,  T.,  A  Suggestion  on  Lessing's  Kein 
Mensch  Muss  Muessen 

Divina  Commedia,  Dante's  Treatment  of  Nature 
in  the  — 

Dunce,  The  Origin  of  the  Word  — 

Kfflnger,  Jr.,  John  B.,  Obituary  of  Anatole  de 
Montaiglon 

—  Jean  Baptiste  Rousseau  as  Historiographer 

—  Selected  Essays  from  Sainte  Beuve  (see  B.  L. 

Bowen) 

Eggert,  C.  A.,  Racine's  Athalie 

—  Goethe  and  Diderot  on  Actors  and  Acting 

—  La  Frontifere,  par  Claretie  (see  B.  L.  Bowen).... 

Eisel,  To  Drinke , 

Elizabethan  Lyrics,  Notes  to  Schelling's  Book  of — . 

Emilia  Galotti,  von  Lessing 

English,  Quantity-Marks  in  Old  —  Ms. 

Lexic 


160 

95,  >9* 

156-158 
58 

85-87 


»  9 

63 
I03-HO 

iio-ii3 
3° 
3' 


Geography . 

—  Louisiana  Folk-Tales  in  French   Dialect  and  — 

Translation • 

—  A  Handbook  of  —  Composition 

—  Written  Translation  of  French  and  German  in 

Teaching  —  Composition 

—  The   Stress   of  German  and  —  Compounds   in 

Geographical  Names 

—  The  Old  —  Runes  for  a  and  o 

—  A  History  of  —  Poetry 

—  Ballads 

—  The  Misrendering  of  Numerals,  Particularly  in 

the  Old  —  Version  of  Bede's  History 

—  Noch —  its  —  Equivalents    and     the   Relative 

Frequency  of  their  Occurrence 

Evangeline :  Aucassin  et  Nicolete 

Faust,  Raphael's  Poesy  and  Poesy  in  — 

Fay,  E.  W.,  Some  Linguistic  Suggestions 

Ferrara(The)  Bible  II 

"        "     III 

F,ilology,  France,  — ,  Foneticism  an  Poetic  For- 
mulae. I 

—  "        II 

Foneticism,    France,   Filology,    and    Poetic    For- 
mulae.    I 

—  "        II 

Fontaine,  C.,  Athalie,  by  Racine  (see  Warren).... 

—  Emile  Zola 

Fortier,   Ale 'e,   Louisiana   Folk-Tales    in    French 

Dialect  and  English  Translation  (see  Gerber). 

Fossler,  Laurence,  Wells:  Modern  German  Litera- 
ture   

France,  Filology,  Foneticism  and  Poetic  For- 
mulae. I 

II 

Francke,  Kuno,  Goethe  and  Mantegna 

—  Immermann's    "Merlin" 

FranzOsische,  Die  —  Heldensage 

—  Die  —  Literatur  im  achtzehnten  Jahrhundert.. . 
French,    Louisiana   Folk-Tales   in   —  Dialect  and 

English  Translation 


191-192 
61-62 
103-110 

191 

"9. 

151  156 
I20-I2I 
9-12 
176-183 

25-26 
121-125 

9S-96 

II6-I2O 
174-176 
156-158 
158-159 

»59 

201-202 

168-174 
29-30 

56-57,  127 
114-116 
12-21 


65-73 
129-137 

65-73 
129-137 

60-6  1 
139-142 

25-26 
87-90 

65  73 

129-137 

27  28 

223 

62 

96 

25-26 


INDEX  TO  VOLUME  XI,  1896. 


— ei,  oi.  On  the   Development  of  Popular   Latin   ? 

into— 58-60 

—  fu>  German  w  into  — 126-127 

—  Written  Translation  of —  and  German  in  Teach- 

ing English  Composition 

Front!  Are,  La,  par  Jules  Claretie  (see  Eggert  and 

B.  L.  Bowen) 191 

Fulton.  Edward,  On  the  Authorship  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  Poem  Phoenix 73~8s 

(iaseoljtne,  George,  Nicolas  Breton  and  — 113-114 

Geographical  Names,  The  Stress  of  German  and 

English  Compounds  in  — 116-120 

Gerber,  A.,  Fortier,  Aide:  Louisiana  Folk-Tales 

in  French  Dialect  and  English  Translation..          25-26 

—  Raphael's  Poesy  and  Poesy  in  Faust 56-57,  I27 

German,  Modern  —  Literature 87-90 

—  Written  Translation  of  French  and  —  in  Teach- 

ing English  Composition 95-96 

—  The  Stress  of  —  and   English   Compounds  in 

Geographical  Names 116-120 

Germanic,  Final  s  in  — " 183-185 

—  -u>  into  French  fu 126-127 

Goethe  and  Mantegna 27-28 

—  and  Diderot  on  Actors  and  Acting 103-1 10 

—  214-215 

Goffe,  Poemsof  Shirley  Attributed  to  Carew  and — .  137-139 

Gore,  Willard  C.,  Notes  on  Slang 193-198 

Gotische  Grammatik 26-27 

Grandet,  Eugenie,  par  Honor^  de  Balzac  (see  Ber- 
geron and  B.  L.  Bowen) 190-161 

Greene,    H.    E.,   Hart:    A    Handbook  of  English 

Composition 121-125 

—  Hill :  The  Principles  of  Rhetoric 121-125 

Griffin,   W.    Hall,   Shakespeare  and    His   Times: 

under  James  I.  (see  Morley  and  Hulme)....       245-254 

Groovy 94-95 

Guy  of  Warwick,  The  So-called  Prose  Version  of — .       202-204 

Hale,  Jr.,  Edward  E.     Personal 63 

Hall's  Anglo-Saxon  Concise  Dictionary,  Notes  on 

_.     1 161-168 

II 204-10 

—  Errata ; 256 

Hart,  J.  M..  To  Drinke  Eisel 29 

—  A  Correction 95 

—  A    Handbook    of    English     Composition    (see 

Greene) 121-125 

Heinemann,  Karl,  Goethe,  (see  Winkler) 214-215 

Hempl.  George,  The  Stress  of  German  and  English 

Compounds  in  Geographical  Names 116  120 

—  The  Old  English  Runes  for  a  and  o 174-176 

—  The  Misrendering  of  Numerals,  particularly  in 

the  Old-English  Version  of  Bede's  History. —      201-202 

Hennemann,  J.  B.,  The  Thirteenth  Annual  Con- 
vention of  the  Mod.  Lang.  Asso'n  of  America.  33~42 

Hervey,  W.  A.,  Written  Translation  of  French 
and  German  in  Teaching  English  Composi- 
tion   95-96 

Hettner's  Die  franzosische  Literatur  im  achtzehn- 

ten  Jahrhundert 96 

Hill,  A.  S.,  The  Principles  of  Rhetoric  (see 

Greene) 121-125 

Hohlfeld,  A.  R.,  Contributions  to  a  Bibliography 

of  Racine 147-151 

Howard,  W.G.  Weise :  Unsere  Muttersprache, 

ihr  Werden  und  ihr  Wesen 9°~93 

Hulme.  Wm.  H.,  Quantity-Marks  in  Old  English 

Ms 9-12 

—  Miracle   Plays 125-126 

—  Loening:  Die  Hamlet  Tragodie  Shakespeares. .       245-254 

—  Schroeder:  Shakspere  :    Funf  Vorlesungen   aus 

dem  Nachlass  von  ten  Brink 245-254 

—  Morley:  Shakespeare  and  His  Time:  under  Eliz- 

abeth         245-254 

—  Brandl:     F  hrende  Geister  :  Shakspere 245-254 

—  Morley:     Shakespere    and    His    Time:    under 

James    1 245-254 

—  Brandes:  William  Shakespeare 245-254 

Immermann's  "Merlin" 223 

Insanity,  The  Elizabethan  Attitude  towards  — . . . .  93'94 

"  Iphiginie,"  Note  on  Racine's  — ,  Act  I,  sc.  i,  v. 


91. 


Journal  Notices,. 32,64,128,224 

Kcidfl,  6.  C.,  An  Early  Edition  of  JEsop's  Fables.  23-24 

—  Voretzsch  :  Die  franzos.  Heldensage 62 

Kinard,  James  P.,  Personal 63 

Klaeber,  Frederick,  Sievers  :  Abriss  der  angelsach- 

sischen  Grammatik 188-190 

von  Klenze,  C.,  Kohler:  Aufsatze  iiber  Marchen 

und  Volkslieder 254-255 

Kohler,  Richard,  Aufsi'tze  liber  M;;rchen  und 

Volkslieder  (see  von  Klenze) 254-255 

Kuhns,  L.  O.,  Dante's  Treatment  of  Natur*  in  the 

Divina  Commedia 1-9 

Lessinjsrs  Kein  Mensch  Muss  Muessen,  A  Sugges- 
tion on — 110-113 

—  Emilia  Galotti 120-121 

Lewis,  E.  H  ,  Groovy 94~95 

Linguistic,  Some —  Suggestions 114-116 

Loening,  Richard.,  Die   Hamlet  Trogodie  Shake- 

speares  (see  Hulme)   245-254 

Louisiana  Folk-Tales  in  French  Dialect  and  Eng- 
lish Translation 25-26 

Lycidas,  A  Note  on  the  Punctuation  of  — 28 

Mantegrna,  Goethe  and  — 2728 

Marden,   C.   C.,   Some   Mexican  Versions  of   the 

"  Brer  Rabbit1'  Stories 22-23 

Mather,  F.  J.  Jr.,  An  Inedited  Document  concern- 
ing Chaucer's  First  Italian  Journey 210-213 

—  Chaucer  in  Italy 255-256 

Menger,   L.   E.,  On  the   Development  of  Popular 

Latin  f  into  French  ei,  oi 58-60 

—  German  iv  into  French  gu 126-127 

—  Cesareo  :   La  Poesia  Siciliana  Sotto  Gli  Svevi.  215-221 

Merchant  of  Venice,  II,  2, n 29 

Meyer,  E  dward,  Versteckens  Spielen -256 

Moore.   Mrs.  Ella  Adams,  A.   H.   Tolman  and — . 

"Select    Bibliography  of   the   Comparative 
Tableof  the  Four  Cycles  of  Religious  Plays."  256 

Morley.  Henry,  Shakespeare  and  His  Time;  under 

Elizabeth  (see  Hulme) 245-254 

—  Shakespere  and  His  Time  :  under  James  I.  (see 

Hulme) 245-254 

"  Merlin.  "  Immermann's 223 

Milwitzky,    Wm.,    Romance   Work    at    Paris    in 

1895-96 221-222 

Miracle  Plays 62-63,125-126 

Misanthrope  (Le),  Note  upon  some  Similarities  be- 
tween Le  Grand  Cyrus  and  — 85-87 

Mod.  Lang.  Association  of  America,  The  Thirteenth 

Annual  Convention  of — 33-42 

—  The  Next  Meeting  of — 256 

—  Of  Germany 159-160 

—  Central  Division  of — 222 

de  Montaiglon.  Obituary  of  Anatole  de  Gourde  — . .  31 
Morf,  Heinrich,  Hettner's  Die  franz  sische  Liter- 

atur  im  achtzehnten  Jahrhundert 96 

Muttersprache,   Unsere   — ,   ihr   Werden   und    ihr 

Wesen 90-93 

Pfero,  A  Note  on  the  Text  of  the  — 192 

Noch — its    English    Equivalents   and  the  •Relative 

Frequency  of  their  Occurrence 168-174 

Pearce,  J.  W.,  Evangeline  :  Aucassin  et  Nicolete  29-30 

Phoenix,  on  the  Authorship  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 

Poem  — 73-85 

Pietsch,  Karl.  Notes  to  Schelling's  Book  of  Eliza- 
bethan Lyrics 151-156 

Poll, Max, Emilia  Galotti,  von  Leasing  (see  Rhoades).     120-121 

Popular  Latin  r,  on  the  Development  of  —  into 
French  ei,oi 

Pound.  L.,  The  Romaunt  of  the  Rose  :  Additional 
Evidence  that  it  is  Chaucer's 

Pugh,  A.  Ree«e,  Note  upon  some  Similarities  be- 
tween Le  Grand  Cyrus  i.nA  Le  Misanthrope. 


58-^0 

97-102 

85-87 


Karlne's  Athalie 60-61,  61  62 

—  Note  on  —  '•  Iphigdnie,"  Act  I,  sc.  i,  v.  91 144-145 

—  Contributions  to  a  Bibliography  of  — 147-151 

Rambeau,   A.,   Modern    Language   Association  of 

Germany, 159-160 


INDEX  TO  VOLUME  XI,  1896. 


Raphael's  Poesy  and  Poesy  in  Faust 56-57.  I27 

Reeves,  Wm.  Peters,  Personal   63 

—  The   So-called  Prose  Version  of  Guy  of  War- 

wick    S02-304 

Rhetoric,  The  Principles  of  — 121-125 

Rhoades.  L.  A. .Super:  Emilia  Galotti,  von  Lessipg.  120-121 

—  Poll:  Emilia  Galotti,  von  Lessing 120-121 

—  Winkler:  "          "        "            " 120-121 

Richardson  and  Rousseau 225-232 

Ries,  The  Dialect  of  the  —I M2-I44 

_          "          "           "         II 232-235 

Romance  Work  at  Paris  in  1895-96 221-222 

RomauiH  of  the  Rose:  Additional  Evidence  that  it 

is  Chaucer's 97-102 

Rousseau,  Richardson  and  — 225-232 

—  Jean  Baptiste — as  Historiographer 235-238 

Runes,  The  Old  English  —  for  a  and  o i74-'76 

Russian  Publications 3° 

Saint  Beuvr,  Selected  Essays  from  —  (see  Effinger 

and  B.  L.  Bowen) 191-192 

Schelling,  Felix  E.,  Poems  of  Shirley  attributed  to 

CarewandGoffe •  I37~i39 

—  Notes  to  —  Book  of  Elizabethan  Lyrics 151-156 

Schlutter,  Otto  B..  Notes  on  Hall's  Concise  Anglo- 
Saxon  Dictionary  I ( 161-168 

••                "         II 204-210 

"                "            Errata 256 

Schmidt,  F.  C.  G.,  The  Dialect  of  the  Ries 142-144 

_        "            "            "            "            " 232-235 

Schmidt-Wartenberg,  H.,  Braune  :  Gotische  Gram- 

matik 26-27 

Schnoerkel 57-58 

Scott,  M.  A.,  The  Origin  of  the  Word  Dunce 30 

Shakespeare  Paronomastes J6o 

—  Die  Hamlet  TragSdie— (see  Loening  and  Hulme)  245-254 

—  Funf  Vorlesungen  aus   dem    Nachlass  von    ten 

Brink 'see  Schroeder  and    Hulme) 245-254 

—  and  His  Time:    under   Elizabeth    (see   Morley 

and  Hulme) 245-254 

—  Flihrende  Geister :    Shakspere  (see  Brandl  and 

Hulmei 245-254 

—  and  His  Times:  under  James    I.  (see  Morley, 

Griffin   and   Hulme) 245-254 

—  William ;     1-10    Lieferung    (see    Brandes    and 

Hulme) 245-254 

Shipley,  George.  Additional  Note  on  the  Order  of 

the  Canterbury  Tales M5-'47 

Shirley,  Poems  of—  attribvited  to  Carew  and  Goffe.  I37-I31) 

Shorey,  Paul,  A  Note  on  the  Text  of  the  Neru 192 

Siciliana.  La  Poesia— Sotto  Gli  Svevi..  (see  Ce- 

sario  and  Menger) 215-221 


Sievers,  Eduard,  Abriss  der  angelsilchsischen  Gram- 

tnatik  (see  Klaeber) 188  190 

Slang,  Notes  on  —  193-198 

Smith,   C.   A.,  A   Note    on    the    Punctuation    of 

Lycidas 28 

Stephenson,  F.  B.,  Russian  Publications 3* 

Super,    O.    B.,   Emilia   Galotti,   von   Lessing   (see 

Rhoades) 120-121 

Swiggett,  G.  L.,  Personal 63 

Sykes,  F.  H.,  Personal 63 

Titppun,  R.  M.,  Nicolas  Breton  and  George 

Gascoigne 113-114 

Till  in  the  Sense  of  Before 53-56 

Tolman,  A.  H.  and  Mrs.  Ella  Adams  Moore, 
"Select  Bibliography  of  the  Comparative 
Table  of  the  Four  Cycles  of  Religious 
Plays" 256 

Tupper.  Jas.  W.,  Courthope:  A  History  of  English 

Poetry 156-158 


Vcrstcckens  Spielen 

Voretsch,  Carl,  Die  franzcisische  Heldensage  (see 

Keidel) 

Vulgarism,  The  History  of  a  — 

Warren,  F.  M.,  Fontaine,  C.:  Athalie  by  Racine.. 

—  Eggert :  Racine's  Athalie 

Weeks,  Raymond,  Personal. . . ., 

Weise.  O.,  Unsere  Muttersprache,  ihr  Werden  und 

ihr  Wesen  (see  Howard) 

Wells,    B.    W.,   Modern   German    Literature   (see 
Fossler) 

—  Richardson  and  Rousseau 

Wiener,  Leo,  The  Ferrara  Bible.     II 

_  •'  -          "       III 

—  English  Lexicography 

—  The   Cancionero   General   de   Castillo:  Edition 

of  1517.  1 

Williams,  R.  O.,  Till  in  the  Sense  of  Before 

Winkler,  Max,  Emilia  Galotti,  von  Lessing  (see 

Rhoades  > 

—  Heinemann  :    Goethe 

Wood,  F.  A.,  Schnoerkel 

—  Final  J  in  Germanic 

Woodward,  B.  D.,  Note  on  Racine's  "  Iphigenie." 

Act  I.sc.  i,v.  91 

Wulfing,  J.  Ernst,  The  Anglo-Saxon  geftaef 


Zola,  r.iuilr 


aS6 

62 
185-188 

60-61 
6i-6z 


9°-93 

87-90 
225-232 

12-21 

42-53 
176-183 

198-201 
53-56 

120-121 

214    215 

57-58 

183-185 

M4-M5 
160 

139-142 


MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES. 


Baltimore,  January,   1896. 

DANTE'S  TREA  TMENT  OF  NA  TURE 
IN   THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

FIRST  PAPER:  His  CONVENTIONAL  TREAT- 
MENT OF  NATURE. 

IN  the  discussion  of  any  literary  topic,  the  first 
and  all-important  question  is  the  establish- 
ment of  a  method.  It  not  seldon  occurs  in 
these  days  of  excessive  specialization  that 
the  laudable  desire  for  thoroughness  destroys 
that  sense  of  proportion  which  is  essential  to 
any  literary  work.  In  the  discussion,  for  in- 
stance, of  such  a  subject  as  the  treatment  of 
Nature  in  the  Divina  Commedia,  the  mere 
enumeration  of  the  various  references  to  na- 
tural phenomena  in  the  poem  will  tend  rather 
to  confuse  the  mind  of  the  reader  than  to 
give  him  any  clear  idea  of  Dante's  feeling 
toward  the  world  of  nature.  To  obtain  such 
an  idea  only  those  references  must  be  con- 
sidered which  reveal  conscious  observation 
and  personal  interest  on  the  part  of  the  poet. 
Hence  a  preliminary  step  in  any  such  in- 
vestigation must  be  the  elimination  of  all 
those  passages  descriptive  of  Nature  which 
are  more  or  less  conventional. i  By  conven- 
tionality I  mean  those  figures  or  metaphors 
which  the  poet  takes  from  nature,  without 
seeing  himself  the  actual  scene  described,  or 
feeling  the  emotion  usually  created  by  it ; 
such  metaphors  being  for  the  most  part  di- 
rectly imitated  from  previous  writers  or  be- 
longing to  the  general  Materia  poetica  of  the 
times.  These  figures  may  often  be  of  extreme 
beauty,  may  be  in  a  sense  original,  in  that 
they  produce  a  certain  effect  on  the  mind  and 
imagination  of  the  reader  which  has  never 
been  made  before.  Such,  for  example,  are 
the  metaphors  drawn  from  Nature  in  the 
sEneid,  and  many  of  those  in  Paradise  Lost. 
Now  all  these  may  be  beautiful  and  effective, 
but  the  important  thing  to  notice  is  that  they 
have  very  little  to  do  with  Nature  herself. 

i  This  paper  forms  part  of  a  more  general  discussion  of 
Dante's  Treatment  of  Nature  :  hence  little  is  said  of  that 
large  number  of  passages  in  which  we  have  abundant  evi- 
dence of  close  observation  and  deep  love  for  Nature  on  the 
part  of  the  Divine  Poet. 


The  charm  can  only  be  appreciated  by  edu- 
cated readers :  the  memories  that  are  stirred 
are  those  reminiscential  of  classical  studies 
rather  than  those  which  come  from  the  actual 
object  referred  to.  This  is  especially  true  of 
general,  well-known  phenomena  such  as  sun- 
set and  sunrise.  Compare  for  instance  the 
lines : 

La  concubina  di  Titone  antico 
Gi£  s'imbiancava  al  balzo  d'orlente 
Fuor  delle  braccia  del  suo  dolce  amico: 

(Purg.,  ix,  1-3.) 
with  Vergil : 

Aut  ubi  pallida  surget 

Tithoni  croceum  linquens  Aurora  cubile.2 

(Georg.>  i,  446-447.) 

Often  we  find  a  mingling  of  personal  ob- 
servation and  conventionality  in  the  same 
passage.  Thus  the  description  of  the  Para* 
diso  Terrestre  is  perhaps  the  most  beautiful 
in  the  Divina  Commedia  and  one  of  the  loveli- 
est in  all  literature  ;  yet  all  the  details  were 
common  property  in  the  Middle  Ages :  the 
flowers  springing  from  the  grass,  the  trans- 
parent stream,  the  grateful  shade  cast  by  the 
murmuring  trees,  the  singing  of  the  birds. 3 
Compare  with  the  well-known  passage  of 
Dante, 4  the  following  lines  of  Walter  von  der 
Vogelweide : 

D6  der  sumer  komen  was 
Und  die  bluomen  dur  daz  gras 
Wiinnecllchen  sprungen 
Alda  die  vogele  sungen, 
Dar  kom  ich  gegangen 
An  einen  anger  langen, 
Da  ein  luter  brunne  entspranc  : 
Vor  dem  walde  was  sin  ganc, 
Da  diu  nahtegale  sane. 5 
We  find  likewise  the  same  details  used  in 
a  description   of  a  June  morning  by  Robert 
Henryson,  a  Scotch  poet  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 

2  Cf.  also  Aeneiei,  ix,  458. 

3  I  cannot  understand  what  Mr.  Ruskin  means  when  he 
says  that  Dante's  use  of  birds  in  this  description  has  been 
imitated  by  all  following  poets.     Modern  Painters,  vol.   iii, 
ch.  14. 

4  Purf.,  xxviii. 

5  W.  von  der  Vogelweide,  herausgegeben  und  erklart  von 
W.  Wilmanns,  1883,  p.  340. 


January,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


tury.6  Yet  the  scene  described  by  Dante  is 
taken  out  of  the  limits  of  mere  conventionality 
by  the  consummate  skill  with  which  he  uses 
his  material,  and  by  the  atmosphere  of  inef- 
fable poetry  with  which  he  has  surrounded  it. 
In  the  following  examples  from  Dante  I  do  not 
mean  to  say  that  often  the  poet  has  not  given 
the  result  of  his  own  observation,  but  that 
the  reader  is  more  or  less  reminded  of  similar 
scenes  elsewhere.  In  many  cases  we  cannot 
tell  whether  a  certain  description  or  metaphor 
is  due  to  mere  coincidence  or  to  imitation. 
No  doubt  what  Washington  Irving  says  of 
himself  in  the  Preface  to  the  Tales  of  a  Trav- 
eller,! is  true  of  Dante  as  well  as  of  every 
other  poet. 

Dante  was  an  ardent  student  of  the  Classics; 
he  was  steeped  in  the  lore  of  the  Bible,  and 
one  of  the  chief  aims  of  art  in  his  day  was  to 
follow  closely  in  the  foot  prints  of  the  great 
masters.  It  was  an  age  of  blind  following  of 
authority :  an  age  of  imitation,  of  conven- 
tionality, of  symbolism. 

In  the  art  of  painting,  the  influence  of  the 
Byzantine  School  was  still  powerful,  although 
Cimabue  and  Giotto  had  given  it  the  impulse 
towards  that  study  of  Nature  which  was 
fraught  with  the  possibility  of  infinite  develop- 
ment. In  literature  originality  was  not  sought 
for;  anonymous  writers  multiplied  copies  and 
expansions  of  old  romances,  translated  the  Lat- 
in bestiaries  and  lapidaries,  or  repeated  the 
eternal  rhapsodies  of  springtime  and  summer, 
birds  and  flowers  and  ladies  fair.  Philosophy 
was  summarized  in  the  famous  compendium  of 
scholasticism,  the  Sum-ma  Theologiae  of  St. 
Thomas  Aquinas,  and  the  science  of  those 
days  comprised  only  the  superstitions  and 
strange  stories  told  of  fabulous  beasts,  mar- 
vellous stones  and  plants,  and  the  wonderful 
machinery  of  the  Ptolemaic  system. 

The  wonder,  then,  is  not  that  Dante  has  so 
many  conventional  references  to  Nature,  but 
that  in  spite  of  the  artificiality  of  the  times,  he 
gives  such  striking  evidence  of  close  personal 
observation  of  the  world  about  him.  This 

6  Cf.  Veitch,  The  Ftelinffor  Nature  in  Scottish  Poetry, 
vol.  i,  p.  211. 

7  "  I  am  an  old  traveller ;    I  have  read  somewhat,  heard 

and  seen  more,  and  dreamt  more  than  all So  that 

when   I   attempt   to  draw  forth  a  fact,  I  cannot  determine 
whether  I  have  read,  heard  or  dreamt  it." 


wonder  is  only  increased  when  we  compare 
him  with  his  contemporaries,  whose  references 
to  Nature  are  meagre,  general  and  entirely 
conventional.* 

The  two  main  sources  from  which  Dante 
drew  were  the  Bible  and  the  classical  writers. 
The  influence  of  the  former  shows  itself  in 
various  ways.  In  the  first  place  the  poet's 
whole  conception  of  the  relation  of  Nature 
and  the  Universe  to  God  is  drawn  from  Holy 
Scripture.  The  frame-work  of  the  world,  the 
scientific  and  the  astronomical  conception  of 
it,  is  due  to  Ptolemy  and  the  Arabian  philo- 
sophers ;  but  the  God  who  dwells  outside  the 
revolving  spheres  of  Heaven  and  who  directs 
their  movements  is  the  God  of  the  Bible,  the 
Creator  and  Preserver  of  all  things. 

But  besides  this  general  influence  of  the 
Bible  on  the  structure  of  the  Divina  Corn- 
media,  it  has  furnished  the  poet  with  many 
figures,  metaphors  and  descriptions.  Mr 
Shairp  has  said  that  language  contains  fossil- 
ized observations  of  natural  phenomena  :  sky, 
mountain,  river  and  sea,  furnish  figures  which 
have  become  part  of  the  very  bone  and  sinew 
of  speech.  In  addition  to  these,  however, 
there  are  still  other  figures,  drawn  from  Nature, 
and  of  later  origin  than  the  first  class  (which 
usually  date  from  pre-historic  times);  these 
latter  were  used  first  by  Greek,  Latin  or 
Biblical  writers;  then  having  frequent  repetition, 
having  been  introduced  into  general  use,  have 
finally  lost  the  power  of  calling  up  any  image 
of  Nature,  and  have  become  mere  rhetorical 
expressions.  Such  are  many  figures  drawn 
from  sea  or  sun,  moon  or  stars.  These  meta- 
phors are  especially  frequent  in  the  Biblical 
writers,  and  we  may  assuredly  attribute  to 
their  influence  the  large  number^ of  examples 
which  are  found  in  Dante.8 

An  interesting  example  of  the  symbolic  use 
of  Nature  is  seen  in  the  apple-tree,  which  stands 
variously  in  the  Divina  Commedia  for  Christ, 
for  Adam,  and  for  the  Roman  Empire.  Thus 
we  find  in  the  Purgatorio,  where  the  Trans- 

*  Walt/ier,  von  der  Vogelweide  is  the  greatest  of  the 
greatest  of  Middle  High  German  lyrical  poets;  and  yet  the 
reading  of  a  dozen  pages  of  his  poetry  will  suffiice  to  prove 
the  truth  of  this  statement. 

8  Cf.,  for  instance,  the  constant  symbolical  use  of  sun 
for  God,  of  light  for  truth,  etc. 


January,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


figuration  is  alluded  to,  the  Saviour  symbol- 
ized in  the  following  lines  : 

Quale  a  veder  li  fioretti  del  melo, 
Che  del  suo  porno  gli  angeli  fa  ghiotti. 

(xxxii,  73-74.) 

The  mystic  tree  in  the  same  canto,  which 
represents  the  Roman  Empire,  is  also  an 
apple-tree,  as  may  be  seen  from  the  exquisite 
lines  in  which  the  peculiarly  delicate  shade  of 
apple-blossoms  is  so  wonderfully  depicted. 
In  the  Paradiso  Adam  is  addressed  as  fol- 
lows : 

O  pomo,  che  maturo 

Solo  prodotto  fosti,  o  padre  antico. 

(xxvi,  91-92.) 

While  the  apple-tree  was  considered  sacred 
among  the  Romans,10  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  Dante  took  his  use  of  it  from  the 
Bible;  thus,  compare  with  the  above  cita- 
tions the  Song  of  Solomon  (ii,  3) : — 

"As  the  apple-tree  among  the  trees  of 
the  wood,  so  is  my  beloved  among  the  sons. 
I  sat  down  under  his  shadow  with  great  de- 
light, and  his  fruit  was  sweet  to  my  taste." 

The  literary  or  symbolical  use  of  the  lamb 
for  innocence,  the  wolf  for  rapacity,  will  be 
treated  later  in  connection  with  Vergil.  Let 
it  suffice  in  this  place  to  mention  the  resem- 
blance of  the  first  canto  in  the  Inferno,  where 
Dante  is  driven  back  from  the  mountain  by 
the  wolf,  the  lion  and  the  panther,  with  Jere- 
miah, chap,  v,  v.  6  : 

"A  lion  out  of  the  forest  shall  slay  them, 
and  a  wolf  of  the  evenings  shall  spoil  them,  a 
leopard  shall  watch  over  their  cities." 

The  classical  writers  exerted  a  strong. and 
direct  influence  on  Dante's  thought  and  style. 
Homer,  Plato,  Aristotle  were  known  to  him 
only  through  Latin  translations  or  quotations 
in  other  writers. ,  His  acquaintance  with  Latin 
literature,  however,  considering  the  difficulty 

9  Men  che  di  rose  e  piu  che  di  vKole 

Colore  aprendo 

(Purg.,  xxxii,  58-59. 

10  The  apple  was  sacred  to  Venus,  whose  statues  some- 
times bore  a  poppy  in  one  hand  and  an  apple  in  the  other. 
To  dream  of  apples  was  deemed  by  lovers  of  good  omen  . 

11  In  the  jfeu  de  Robin  et  dt  Marion  by  Adam  de  la  Halle, 
Robin  says  to  Marion  : 

Et  si  t'aport  des  pommcs  :  tien. 
(Constans,  Christ,  de  I'Anc.  Fran;,  p.  229,  line  109). 


of  pursuing  study  during  the  Middle  Ages 
was  marvellous. 

Calculations  have  been  made  of  the  refer- 
ence in  Dante's  works  to  the  classical  writers, 
and  it  has  been  found  that 

"the  Vulgate  is  quoted  or  referred  to  more 
than  500  times,  Aristotle  more  than  300,  Ver- 
gil about  200,  Ovid  about  TOO,  Cicero,  and 
Lucan  about  fifty  each,  Statius  and  Eoethius 
between  thirty  and  forty  each,  Horace,  Livy 
and  Orosius  between  ten  and  twenty  each ; 
with  a  few  scattered  references,  probably  not 
exceeding  ten  in  the  case  of  any  one  author, 
to  Homer,  Juvenal,  Seneca,  Ptolemy,  ^Esop 
and  St.  Agustine."" 

Among  the  mass  of  quotations  we  may  nat- 
urally expect  to  find  a  number  which  refer 
to  Nature. 

These  authors,  in  the  first  place,  tinged 
Dante's  view  of  Nature  with  a  learned  and 
classic  atmosphere ;  on  seeing,  for  instance, 
some  phase  of  Nature,  his  mind  would  in- 
stantly recur  to  some  passage  of  Vergil  or 
Ovid,  and  it  is  this  fact  he  tells  us  about, 
rather  than  that  he  describes  simply  the  actual 
details  of  the  scene  in  question. 

Again,  although  mythology  as  a  religion 
had  died  out,  it  still  lives  on  in  the  Divina 
Commedia  as  a  means  of  ornament  and  illus- 
tration:— often  in  the  strangest  kind  of  juxta- 
position with  Christianity,  and  we  hear  even 
the  Almighty  himself  addressed  as  "Sommo 
Giove."  As  we  wander  over  the  supernatural 
world  of  Dante,  we  meet  constantly  with 
naiad,  nymph,  and  river-god ;  fabulous  mon- 
sters are  seen  on  every  side  :  harpies,  dragons, 
Centaurs,  Cerberus,  Pluto,  the  Minotaur.  Of 
'course  Dante's  use  of  these  is  entirely  different 
from  that  of  Homer  or  even  that  of  Vergil 
and  Ovid ;  it  is  purely  literary  and  finds  its 
analogy  in  France  during  the  seventeenth 
century,  when  Roileau  inculcates  their  use  as 
necessary  to  an  elegant  style. '3 

The  poet  whose  influence  Dante  felt  most  in 
his  discriptions  of  Nature  (as  in  everything 
else)  is  Vergil ;  that  he  knew  the  /Eneid  al- 
most by  heart  is  proved,  not  only  by  evidence, 
but  by  his  own  express  statements. '4  There 

ia  See  Edinburgh  Review  for  April,  1895,  p.  286;  cf.  also 
Jahrb  ,cher  f&r  Philelogit  und  PadafOfik,n.  Abth.,  xi. 
Jahrg.,  p.  253. 

13  L'Art  Poft.'yue,  iii,  160  and  ff. 

14  Inf.,  \,  83-87;  xx,  114;  and  Purg.,  xxi,  97-98. 


January,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


8 


can  be  no  doubt  that  the  Divina  Commedia  is 
saturated  with  not  only  the  incidents  and  ideas, 
but  even  the  diction  of  Vergil.  The  number 
of  direct  quotations  is  very  large,  but  besides 
these  there  are  innumerable  passages  which 
show  an  unconscious,  or  only  half  conscious 
imitation.  This  influence  is  seen  at  work  in 
the  description  of  morning  and  evening,  in  the 
constant  reference  to  mythology,  and  in  the 
many  metaphors  drawn  from  animal  life.  In 
certain  cases,  even  if  we  cannot  point  to  any 
direct  imitation,  it  is  evident  that  Dante's  view 
has  been  colored  by  Vergil.  As  an  instance 
of  the  above  statements,  take  the  metaphorical 
use  of  sheep  and  wolf;  while  in  this  respect 
Dante  follows  not  only  the  Bible,  but  also  the 
traditions  of  Greek,  Roman  and  Mediaeval 
literature.'S  we  find  in  particular  some  very 
striking  imitations  of  Vergil.  Compare,  for 
instance,  the  following  lines  : 

Ed  una  lupa,  che  di  tutte  brame 

Sembiava  carca 

(Inf.,  i,  49-50.) 
with  those  of  Vergil : 

Collecta  fatigat  edendi 

Ex  longo  rabies  et  siccae  sanguine  fauces. 

(^£«.,  ix,  63-64.) 

The  references  to  sheep  as  symbolical  of  the 
followers  of  Christ  and  to  the  wolf  in  sheep's 
clothing,  for  false  teachers  are,  of  coursej 
Scriptural  in  their  origin. 

Homer  and  Vergil  in  their  pictures  of  rural 
life  often  introduce  the  farmer  or  shepherd  as 
a  witness  of  the  phenomena  described,  and 
there  are  several  passages  in  the  Divina  Corn- 
media  which  show  the  same  treatment. 

Compare : 

Aut  rapidus  montano  flumine  torrens 

Sternit    agros,    sternit   sata    laeta    boumque 

labores 
Praecipitesque  trahit  silvas,  stupet  inscius  alto 

15  The  wolf  is  everywhere  mentioned  with  hate  :  Vergil's 
words  : 

"  Triste  lupus  stabulis  " 

(Eclog.,  iii,  80) 

are  typical  of  both  the  Greek  and  Roman  and  of  the  Med- 
iaeval view  of  the  rapacity  of  that  restless  enemy  of  the 
sheep:  always  fierce,  famished,  prowling  around  the  sheep- 
fold.  In  Homer  the  lion  shares  with  the  wolf  the  fears  and 
hostility  of  the  shepherds. 


Accipiens  sonit 

(JEn.,  ii,  305-308.) 
and : 

Non  altrimenti  fatto,  che  d'un  vento 
Impetuoso  per  gli  avversi  ardori, 
Che  fier  la  selva,  e  senza  alcun  rattento 
Gli  rami  schianta,  abbatte,  e  porta  fuori ; 
Dinanzi  polveroso  va  superbo, 
E  fa  fuggir  le  fiere  ed  i  pastori. 

(Inf.,  ix.  67-72.) 

In  similar  manner  the  farmer  is  seen  filled 
with  dismay  in  that  realistic  scene  in  the  In- 
ferno, xxiv,  4  and  ff.,  where  the  heavy  frost 
looks  like  snow  in  the  morning  and  threatens 
to  bring  ruin  to  the  crops. 

The  influence  of  Vergil  is  further  shown  in 
the  references  to  other  animals.  Take  for 
instance  the  passage  descriptive  of  a  wounded 
bull : 

Quale  quel  toro,  che  si  slaccia  in  quella 
C'ha  ricevuto  lo  colpo  mortale, 
Che  gir  non  sa,  ma  qua  e  la  saltella, 

(Inf.,  xii,  22-24.) 
and  compare  it  with  : 
Qualis  mugitus,  fugit  cum  saucius  aram 
Taurus  et  incertam  excussit  cervice  securim. 

(^En.,  ii,  223-224.) 
So  the  boar  chased  by  dogs  : 
Similemente  a  colui,  che  venire 
Sente'l  porco  e  la  caccia  alia  sua  posta, 
Ch'ode  le  bestie,  e  le  frasche  stormire 

(Inf.,  xiii,  112-114.) 
reminds  us  of  Vergil's  lines  : 
Ac  velut  ille  canum  morsu  de  montibus  altis 

Actus  aper: 

(^Sn.,  x,  706-707.) 

Of  course  it  is  not  in  my  province  to  discuss 
at  length  this  whole  question  of  Dante's  in- 
debtedness to  Vergil ;  I  simply  point  out  some 

16  Cf.  also : 

Qual  istordito  e  stupido  aratore, 
Poi  ch'fe  passato  il  fulmine,  si  leva 
Di  la  dove  1'altissimo  fragore 
Presso  alii  morti  buoi  steso  1'aveva. 

(Ariosto,  Or/,  fur.,  i,  65.  1-4.) 


and; 


Lorsque  le  labourcur,  regagnant  sa  chaumifre, 
Trouve  le  soir  son  champ  rase1  par  le  tonnerre, 
II  croit  d'abord  qu'un  rC-ye  a  fascine1  ses  yeux. 

(A.  de  Musset,  Lettre  a  Lantartine.) 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


10 


of  the  most  striking  resemblances,  without 
seeking  to  make  a  complete  list  of  them.  I 
may  be  allowed,  however,  to  refer*  to  what 
may  be  more  properly  designated  as  verbal 
resemblances  in  the  references  to  Nature. 
The  detailed  description  of  a  storm  in  Purg. 
v,  113  and  ff.'7  finds  a  counterpart  in  several 
passages  of  Vergil  and  Ovid  ;  but  there  seems 
to  be  something  more  than  mere  coincidence 
in  the  resemblance  between  the  lines : 
La  pioggia  cadde ;  ed  a'  fossati  venne 
Di  lei  ci6  che  la  terra  non  sofferse, 

(Purg.,  v,  119-120.) 

and  Vergil's 

Implentur  fossae  et  cava  flumina  crescunt. 

(Georg.,  i,  326.) 

The  line : 

II  tremolar  della  marina, 

(Purg.,  i,  117.) 

finds  a  parallel  in 

Splendet  tremulo  sub  lumine  pontus . 

(^2f#.,  vii,  9.) 

So  the  lines  in  Inf.  ii,  i  ff.,  where  the  ap- 
proach of  night  brings  the  hour  of  rest  for 
men  and  animals : 

Lo  giorno  se  n'andava,  e  1'aer  bruno 
Toglieva  gli  animai,  che  sono  in  terra, 

Dalle  fatiche  loro 

(/«/.,  ii,  1-3.) 

recall  similar  lines  in  Vergil : 

Cetera  per  terras  omnis  animalia  somno 
Laxabant  curas  et  corda  oblita  laborum, 

(;En.,  ix,  222-223.) 
and: 
Nox  erat  et  terris  animalia  somnus  habebat. 

(^£«.,  iii,  147.) 

The  phenomenon  of  the  stars  fading  at  the 
approach  of  dawn  is  common  enough  and  we 
need  not  be  surprised  to  find  parallels  to  the 
Divina  Comntedia,  Par.,  xxx,  7  and  ff.,  not 
only  in  Vergil  (^En.,  iii,  521),  but  also  in  Lucan 
(ii,  72),  Homer  (x.),  Ariosto  (xxxvii,  86)  and 
Tasso  (xviii,  12). »8 

Some  of  the  most  famous  of  Dante's  pic- 
tures, although  in  large  part  made  original  by 

17  Mr.  Ruskin  says  of  this  description  that  there  is  nothing 
like  it  in  all  literature.     Modern  Painters. 

18  Cf.  Magistretti,  //  Fuoco  e  la  Luce  nella  Divina  Uom- 
mtdia.     Firenze,  1888. 


his  own  genius,  are  evidently  reminiscences  of 
Vergil.  This  is  especially  true  of  the  ex- 
quisite figure  of  the  doves  in  the  Inf.  v.  82-84, 
whose  prototype  is  JEn.t  v.  213-217;  and  also 
of  the  famous  metaphor  of  the  souls  prepar- 
ing to  enter  Charon's  boat,  (Inf.,  iii ;  112-114, 
reproducing  the  same  idea  as  that  in  the  &n.t 
vi,  309-312)- 

But  Dante  owes  suggestions  for  metaphors 
taken  from  Nature  to  other  Latin  writers. 
Although  his  references  to  Horace  are  few, 
we  find  a  repetition  of  the  latter's  famous 
figure  of  words  and  leaves  (Ars.  Poet.,  60-62), 
in 

Che"  1'uso  de'  mortali  &  come  fronda 
In  ramo,  che  sen  va,  ed  altra  viene. 

(Par.,  xx vi,  137-138). 

In'similar  manner  we  find  several  metaphors 
of  Nature  which  are  evidently  suggested  by 
Ovid.  LAs  already  noted  the  direct  and  indi- 
rect references  to  this  poet  in  all  of  Dante's 
works  amount  to  about  a  hundred.  For  his 
mythology  Dante  is  chiefly  indebted  to  him, 
and  nearly  all  the  allusions  to  Cerberus,  Phoe- 
nix, and  the  gods  and  goddesses  can  be  traced 
to  the  Metamorphoses.  Portions  of  the  beau- 
tiful scene  in  Purg.  xxviii,  40  and  ff.  may  have 
been  suggested  by  the  story  of  Proserpina  in 
Met.,  v.  388  ff.  Cf.  especially  the  lines : 

Una  Donna  soletta,  che  si  gfa 
Cantando  ed  iscegliendo  fior  da  fiore, 

(xxviii,  40-41.) 

with 

Quo  dum  Proserpina  luco 

'  Ludit  et  aut  violas  aut  Candida  lilia  carpit. 

(v-  391-392.) 

The  words  primaver  and  perpetuttm  ver, 
which  are  found  in  these  passages,  may  be 
taken  as  indicating  some  connection  between 
the  two. 

It  is  probable  that  Dante  also  had  Ovid  in 
mind  when  he  tells  us  how  the  Earth  looked 
when  seen  from  a  starry  sphere  :— 

L'aiuola 

Tutta  m'apparve  da'  colli  alle  foci. '9 

(Par.,  xxii,  151-153-) 
In  the    Metamorphoses    there   are    several 

19  Cf.  also  Par.,  xxvii.  77  and  ff. 


January,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


similar  passages, — chief  among  which  is  that 
where  unlucky  Phaethon  is  described : 

Medio  est  altissima  caelo, 

Unde  mare  et  terras  ipsi  mihi  saepe  videre. 

(Met.,  ii,  64-65.) 

So  also  the  scene  where  Perseus  flies  through 
the  sky  and 

Despectat  terras  totumque  supervolat  orbem; 

(Met.,  iv,  623.) 
and  the  line  : 

Quae  freta,  quas  terras  sub  se  vidisset  ab  alto. 

(Met.,  iv.  786.) 

The  various  scenes  of  the  transformation  of 
snakes  into  men,  and  vice  versa,  are  imitated 
from  Ovid. 

A  very  interesting  verbal  resemblance  is 
seen  in  the  line  in  which  the  dim  light  of  the 
eighth  circle  is  described,  as 

Men  che  notte  e  men  che  giorno, 

(Inf.,  xxxi,  10.) 
with  which  compare  : 

Quod  tu  nee  tenebras  nee  posses  dicere  lucem. 

(Met.,  iv,  400.) 

I  have  already  compared  the  famous  figure 
of  the  leaves  in  the  Inferno  to  Vergil,  but  a 
similar  fiigure  is  also  seen  in  : 
Non  citius  frondes  autumni  frigore  tactas 
lamque  male  haerentes  alta  rapit  arbore  ven- 

tus, 

Quam  sunt  membra  viri  manibus  direpta  ne- 
fandis. 

(Met.,  Hi,  729-731-) 
So,  too,  of  a  falling  star  we  find  : 

Di  prima  notte  mai  fender  sereno, 

(Purg.,  v.  38.) 
whilst  Phaethon  falls  : 

Ut  interdum  de  caelo  Stella  sereno.20 

(Met.,  ii,  321.) 

The  tumbling  of  the  dolphins,  described  as: 

20  This  is  a  very  common  metataphor ;  cf. 

Quam  solet  aethereo  lampas  decurrere  sulco, 

(Lucan,  x.) 
and  also : 

And  with  the  setting  sun 

Dropt  from  the  Zenith  like  a  falling  star. 

(Milton,  Par.  Lost,  i.  744-745.) 
For  other  parallells  see  Magistretti,  /.  c.,  pp.  300-301. 


Come  i  delfini,  quando  fanno  segno 
A'  marinar  con  1'arco  della  schiena, 

(Inf.,  xxii,  19-20.) 
finds  a  parallel  in: 

Nee  se  super  aequora  curvi 

Tollere  consuetas  audent  delphines  in  auras. 

(Met.,  ii.  265-266.) 

So  the  pianta  senza  seme  spoken  of  in 
Purg.,  xxviii.  117,  may  have  been  suggested 
by  the  natos  sine  semine  flores  of  Ovid,  Met., 
i.  108. 

Now  it  may  be  that  these  resemblances  (and 
many  others  which  might  be  mentioned)  are 
mere  coincidences ;  but  we  must  remember 
that  Dante  knew  Vergil  and  Ovid  thoroughly, 
and  it  may  well  be  that  in  all  the  above  cases 
he  was  influenced  more  or  less  consciously  by 
them. 

But  when  we  have  discussed  the  influence  of 
the  Bible  and  the  classics  on  Dante,  we  have 
not  yet  exhausted  the  subject  of  his  conven- 
tionality. He  was  as  ardent  a  scientist  as 
scholar,  philosopher,  theologian  and  poet,  and 
there  is  a  wonderful  blending  of  science  and 
poetry  in  many  of  his  descriptions  of  Nature.21 
We  should  naturally  expect,  then,  to  find  him 
influenced  by  the  books  of  science  of  his  day. 
In  Zoology  and  Mineralogy  these  were  the 
Bestiaries  and  Lapidaries.  It  is  possible 
that  he  had  read  in  French  the  famous  Bes- 
tiaries of  Philippe  de  Thaiin  and  Guillaume  le 
Clerc.22  But  even  if  he  was  not  acquainted 
with  these  popular  treatises,  he  certainly  had 
read  the  Tresor  of  his  master  Brunetto  Latini, 
for  the  last  words  which  came  to  Dante  from 
the  "dear,  paternal  image"  of  him  who  had 
taught  him  come  Fuom  s'eterna,  were  : 
Sieti  raccomandato  il  mio  Tesoro, 

Nel  quale  i'  vivo  ancora r> 

(Inf.,  xv.  119-120.) 

It  is  extremely  interesting  to  compare  what 
Dante  says  of  the  Phoenix,  the  Dragon,  the 
Eagle,  and  other  animals,  with  the  description 
given  by  Brunetto.  Although  Dante  obtained 
his  ideas  of  the  Phoenix  from  Ovid, he  may  have 

21  I  have  discussed  at  length  this  most  interesting  phase  of 
Dante's  treatment  of  Nature  (which  has   hitherto,  I  believe, 
escaped  attention)  in   my  general  discussion  of  this  whole 
subject. 

22  See  Reinsch,  Le  Bestiaire  von  Guillaume  le  Clerc,  p. 
44- 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


still  been  affected  by  the  descriptions  given 
in  the  bestiaries.  Likewise  to  them  many  de 
tails  of  the  more  common  beasts  may  be  due; 
as,  for  instance,  the  picture  of  the  eagle  gazing 
fixedly  into  the  sun  : 

Aquila  si  non  gli  s'afiisse  unquanco.2s 

(Par.,  1.48.) 
whilst  Brunette's  description  is  : 

Et  sa  nature  est  de  esgarder  contre  le  soleil 
si  fermement  que  si  oil  ne  remuent  goute. 

(Trtsor,  i.  5,  97.) 

There  seems  scarcely  any  doubt  that  the 
passage  already  cited , 
Come  i  delfini,  quando  fanno  segno 
A'  marinar  con  Parco  della  schiena, 

(Inf.,  xxii.  19-20.) 

was  also  influenced  by  the  following  descrip- 
tion : 

Et  par  eulx  (dolphins)  apercoivent  li  marinier 
la  tempeste  qui  doit  venir,  quant  il  voient  le 
dolphin  fuir  parmi  la  mer. 

( Trhor,  p.  187.) 

Compare  also  the  following  resemblances: 
E  come  i  gru  van  cantando  lor  lai, 
Facendo  in  aer  di  se  lunga  riga, 

(Inf.,  v.  46-47-) 

and: 

Grues  sont  oisiau  qui  voient  a  eschieles,  en 
maniere  de  chevaliers  qui  vont  en  bataille. 

(Trhor,  p.  215.) 

Si  come  quando  '1  Colombo  si  pone 

Presso  al  compagno,  1'uno  all'altro  pande, 
Girando  e  mormorando,  I'aFezione, 

(Par.,  xxv,  19-21.) 
and: 

E  sachiez  que  la  torterele  est  si  amables 
vers  son  compaignon,  etc.24 

(Trtsor,  p.  220.) 

Com'io  fui  di  natura  buona  scimia, 

(Inf.,  xxix,  139.) 

23  Cipolla  (Studt.  Danteschif'p.  6)  quotes  this  passage  as 
indicative  of  observation  on  the  part   of  the  poet ;  but  the 
reference  in   question   seems   to  me   merely    rhetorical  and 
conventional. 

24  The  affection  of  the  turtle-dove  is  frequently  alluded  to 
in  poetry  ;  cf. : 

Like  to  a  pair  of  loving  turtle-doves 
That  could  not  live  asunder  day  or  night, 

(Shakspere,  / Htnry  IV,  ii.  2.) 

and   also    Winter's    Tale,  iv.  4;  and  Troilus  and  Cresstda, 

iii.  2. 


and: 

Singes  est  une  beste  qui  volentiers  contre 
fait  ce  que  elle  voit  faire  as  homes. 

( Trtsor,  p.  250.) 

Per  la  qual  vedessi 

Non  altrimenti  che  per  pelle  talpe. 

(Pnrg.,  xvii.  2-3.) 
and: 

Et  sachiez  que  taupe  ne  voit  goute,  car 
nature  ne  volt  pas  ovrir  la  pel  qui  est  sor  ses 
oilz. 

(Trtsor,  p.  252.) 

Dante's  use  of  the  panther  is  not  taken  from 
the  bestiaries,  where  it  is  used  symbolically 
for  the  Saviour,  but  rather  from  the  leopard  of 
the  Bible,  swift,  subtle,  fierce  against  men. 

Besides  these  well-known  sources  there  are 
others  which  are  obscure  or  even  wholly  un- 
known to  us,  and  certain  passages  in  Dante 
are  mere  repetitions  of  general  ideas  and 
metaphors  common  to  the  Middle  Ages. 

To  this  class  belong  the  following  parallels  ; 
Plus  tost  c'uns  alerions  (referring  to  an  eagle), 
(Chretien  de  Troyes,  Chev.  au  Lion.) 
and : 

Poi  mi  parea  che,  piu  rotata  un  poco, 
Terribil  come  folgor  discendesse, 

(Purg.t  ix,  28-29.) 
Fiers  par  sanblant  come  lions, 

(Chretien  de  Troyes,  Ibid.} 
and : 

A  guisa  di  Icon,  quando  si  posa. 

(Purg.,  vi,  66.) 

In  his  treatment  of  the  animal  world,  Dante 
must  also  have  been  influenced  by  fables  and 
the  beast  epic,  both  of  which  were  so  popular 
and  wide-spread  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Whether 
he  knew  personally  the  works  of  such  writers 
as  Marie  de  France  and  Walter  of  England, 
or  not,  it  is  at  least  evident  that  he  was  famil- 
iar with  the  subject  matter  of  the  fables  which 
they  treated.  In  the  Middle  Ages  the  names 
of  ^Esop  and  Romulus  were  given  to  almost 
all  collections  of  fables;  in  fact  these  names 
had  become  traditional,  just  as  Faust  and  Don 
Juan  have  became  so  in  later  times.  Hence 
Dante,  in  alluding  to  the  well-known  fable  of 
the  Frog  and  the  Rat,  attributes  it  to 
V61to  era  in  su  la  favola  d'Isopo 


January,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


16 


Lo  mio  pensier,  per  la  presents  rissa, 
Dov'  ei  parld  della  rana  e  del  topo. 

(Inf.,  xxiii,  4-6.) 

Proverbs,  too,  furnished  Dante  with  sup- 
posed characteristics  of  animal  life.  Thus  we 
have  the  thoughtlessness  of  birds  alluded  to 
in  the  following  lines  : 

Come  fe  il  merlo  per  poca  bonaccia,2s 

(Purg.,  xiii,  123.) 
and 

Nuovo  augelletto  due  o  tre  aspetta. 

(Pur£.,  xxxi,  61.) 

Finally,  the  traditional  characteristics  of  the 
cat  and  the  mouse  are  alluded  to  in  : 
Tra  male  gatte  era  venuto  '1  sorco. 

(Inf.,  xxii,  58.) 

Dante's  reference  to  the  cold  nature  of 
Saturn : 

Nell'ora  che  non  pu6  '1  calor  diurno 
Intiepidar  piu  '1  freddo  della  Luna, 
Vinto  da  Terra,  e  talor  da  Saturno  ; 

(Purg.,  xix.  1-3.) 

while  probably  more  directly  connected  with 
that  of  Brunette  Latini : 

Quar  Saturnus,  qui  est  le  soverains  sor  touz, 
est  cruex  et  felons  et  de  froide  nature, 

(Tr£sor,  p.  128.) 

nevertheless  represents  a  widespread  belief  of 
the  day,  as  is  proved  by  the  following  pas- 
sages from  other  writers  : 

Frigida  Saturni  sese  quo  Stella  receptet, 

(Vergil,  Georg.,  i.  336.) 

Stella  Jovis  temeratae  naturae  est.  Media 
enim  fertur  inter  frigidicam  Saturni  et  aestio- 
sam  Marti; 

(Claudius  Ptolemaeus,  as  cited  by  Magistretti) 
and  we  even  find  Saturn  alluded  to  as  eal- 
isig  tungol  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  Metra  xxiv.^ 

There  are  a  number  of  very  interesting  ver- 
bal resemblances  between  Dante  and  other 
Mediaeval  writers,  by  whom  he  could  not 


25  Cf.  Fraticelli,  in  lac.: 


26  See  Lihiing,  Die  Natur  in  der  Altgermanischen  und 
Mittelhochdeutschen  Epik,  p.  66. 


have  been  in  any  way  influenced.  If  these  re- 
semblances are  not  mere  coincidences,  they 
can  be  due  only  to  the  wide-spread  use  of 
conventional  figures  and  metaphors.  Perhaps 
the  most  interesting  of  these  coincidences  is 
the  use  of  the  sea  by  Dante  to  represent  the 
Divina  Commedia  in  the  Paradiso,  ii,  1.  and 
flf.  We  find  exactly  the  same  figure  used  by 
Otfrid : 

Nu  will  ih  thes  giflfzan,  then  segal  nitharlazan, 
Thaz  in  thes  stades  feste  min  ruader  nu  gir- 
e"ste.27 

(Evangelienbuch,  xxv,  5-6.) 

So,   too,   the  passage  describing  the    bird 
waiting  for  the  coming  of  the  dawn : 
E  con  ardente  aflfeto  il  sole  aspetta, 
Fiss  guardando,  pur  che  1'alsa  nasca, 

(Par.,  xxiii,  8-9.) 
finds  a  parallel  in  Middle-High-German  poetry: 

So  vroeut  sich  mln  gemiiete,  sam  diu 

kleinen 
V6gellin,  so  sie  sehent  den  morgenschin  ; 

(Ms.  ii,  io2#.) 

ih  warte  der  vrouwen  mln,  reht  alse  des  tags 
die  kleinen  v6gellin.28 

(HMS.  i,  2ia.) 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  lines  in  the  Divina 
Commedia : 

Par  tremolando  mattutina  Stella, 

(Purg.,  xii,  90.) 

suggests  similar  passages  from  a  variety  of 
sources ;  thus  in  the  Vulgate  we  find  the 
words  : 

Ego  sum  radix  et  genus  David,  stella  splen- 
dida  et  matutina. 

(Apocalypsis,  xxii,  16.) 

and  in  the  Middle-High-German  lines  below, 
Karl's  eyes  are  said  to  shine  like  the  morning- 
star : 

la  luhten  sin  ougen  sam  ther  morgensterre.29 
(Rolandslied,  686-687.) 

27  Cf.  also  Vergil,  Georg.,  iv,  116-117. 

28  See  Liining,  /.  c.,  p.  39;  cf.  also: 

Non  dormatz  plus,  qiTen  aug  chantar  1'auzel 
Que  vai  queren  lo  jorn  per  lo  boscatge. 

(Guirautz  de  Borneill.) 

29  See  Liining,  /.  c.,  p.  17.    So,  too,  does  the  Scotch  poet 
William   Dunbar  sing  of  the  goldyn  candill  matutyne  (see 
Veitch,  /   f.,vol.  i,  p.  226).     Tasso  also  makes  a  beautiful 
use  of  this  figure  in  the  well-known  passage  in  the  Gertts. 
Liber.,  xv,  60. 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


18 


I  have  thus  discussed  (at  too  great  length, 
perhaps)  what  I  have  called  the  Conventional 
Treatment  of  Nature  in  the  Divina  Comrnedia. 
My  object,  however,  has  not  been  to  deny 
Dante's  claim  to  be  considered  a  close  ob- 
server and  a  genuine  lover  of  nature  ;  for  this 
I  believe  to  be  true  of  him  in  an  eminent  de- 
gree, and  I  fully  concur  in  the  opinions  of 
Burckhardt  and  Humboldt,  who  consider  him 
to  be  the  first  poet  to  show  the  modern  ap- 
preciation of  the  world  in  which  we  live.  The 
object  of  the  present  paper  has  been  merely 
to  clear  the  way  for  a  more  intelligent  dis- 
cussion of  Nature  in  the  Divina  Commedia. 


L.  OSCAR  KUHNS. 


Wesley  an  University. 


QUANTITY    MARKS     IN    OLD-ENG- 
LISH   MSS. 

THE  use  of  symbols  for  the  purpose  of  showing 
vowel  length  in  O.K.  manuscript  writing  has 
never  been  subjected  to  an  exhaustive  ex- 
amination. This  has  been  due  to  a  great 
extent  to  the  fact  that  our  knowledge  of  the 
quantity  of  vowels  in  O.K.  depends  by  no 
means  exclusively  on  this  ancient  system  of 
vowel  notation.  Nevertheless  these  marks 
'have  their  importance  for  students  of  Old 
English, — were  evidently  intended  in  most 
cases  to  illustrate  the  application  of  certain 
phonetic  laws,  and  therefore  deserve  careful 
study  and  consideration. 

The  best  short  study  of  O.E.  quantity-marks 
has  been  given  us  by  Henry  Sweet  in  his 
History  of  English  Sounds  (2nd  ed.,  London, 
1888,  pp.  107  ff.).  But  Sweet  directs  his  atten- 
tion to  only  a  few  of  the  most  important  prose 
MSS.,  leaving  the  field  of  poetry  entirely  un- 
touched. Prof  Arnold  Schroer  has  given  the 
subject  of  the  quantity  of  vowels  of  the  O.E. 
Version  of  the  Benedictine  Rule  thorough  con- 
sideration in  his  excellent  edition  of  the  same 
(Bibliothek  der  angelstichischen  Prosa,  ii).  In 
his  Doctor- Arbeit*  the  writer  has  devoted  one 
entire  chapter  to  the  quantity -marks  of  the 
MS.  of  King  Alfred's  Blooms.  Here  the  ac- 
cented vowels  are  alphabetically  arranged  in 
groups,  and  an  attempt  is  made  to  draw  cer- 

i  Die  Sprache  der  Altenglischen  Benrbe.'titng-  der  Sol.'lo- 
quien  Auguitins,  von  \V.  H.  Hulme.  Darmstadt,  1894. 


tain  conclusions  as  to  their  significance  in  this 
text. 

As  a  basis  for  the  present  study,  materials 
have  been  gathered  by  a  personal  examination 
of  several  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum  and 
the  Bodleian  Library,  and  of  a  large  number 
of  facsimiles  and  diplomatic  texts,  embracing 
together  the  majority  of  the  masterpieces  of 
O.E.  literature,  poetry  as  well  as  prose. 

Old-English  scribes  knew  two  ways  of  indi- 
cating long  vowels  in  their  MS.  writing :  (i) 
by  doubling  the  vowel ;  (2)  by  placing  a  mark 
over  the  long  vowel.  The  first  method  was 
used  in  the  oldest  extant  MSS.,  and  was  kept 
up  to  some  extent  throughout  the  O.E.  period; 
that  is,  till  about  the  close  of  the  eleventh 
century.  The  use  of  accents  for  showing 
vowel  length  does  not  seem  to  have  come 
into  vogue  before  the  eighth  century,  the  earli- 
est instances  being  in  the  Corpus  Gloss  of 
first  half  of  eighth  century.  This  accent  mark 
is  the  "  apex  "  of  Latin  inscriptions  and  was, 
according  to  Sweet  (p.  108),  written  upwards  ; 
that  is,  with  an  upward  stroke  of  the  pen. 
The  lower  end  of  the  mark  is  always  pointed, 
the  upper  being  finished  with  a  "tag,"  as  a 
rule, — but  sometimes  having  the  appearance 
of  a  heavy  pen  stroke.  In  some  MSS.  the 
scribes  give  a  slight  downward  curvature  to 
the  upper  end  of  the  stroke  before  adding  the 
characteristic  tag,  thus  giving  the  mark  a 
hooked  appearance.  This  peculiar  mark 
seems  to  have  been  the  only  one  in  general 
use,  but  in  some  of  the  later  MSS.  of  the 
O.E.  period,  for  example  in  that  of  the  Blooms, 
which  belongs  to  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth 
century  (cf.  Hulme,  Einl.  p.  3  and  pp.  97  f.),  a 
simple  stroke  resembling  the  accute  accent 
and  extending  almost  perpendicularly  upward 
from  the  vowel  is  frequently  employed  in  the 
beginning  of  the  MS.  Moreover  the  .horizon- 
tal wave  mark  or  unrolled  scroll  which  is 
regularly  used  in  O.E.  MSS.  to  indicate  an  ab- 
breviation is  now  and  then  employed  by  the 
scribe  of  the  Blooms  to  show  vowel  length. 

For  convenience  sake  the  material  examined 
for  this  paper  may  be  arranged  in  three  di- 
visions, no  account  having  been  taken  of  MSS. 
and  texts  later  than  the  O.E.  period,  prop- 
erly speaking.  These  three  divisions  are  :  (i) 
Glosses,  Inscriptions,  and  Charters ;  (2)  Prose 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES,     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


20 


proper ;  (3)  Poetry. 

No  accents  appear  in  the  earliest  known 
glosses  and  inscriptions,  that  is,  in  the  Epi- 
nal  Gloss  (600-700)2  and  in  the  inscriptions 
on  the  Bewcastle  column  (670  ?)  and  the  Ruth- 
well  Cross  (680?).  But  in  the  Corpus f  Gloss 
(first  half  of  eighth  century)  three  or  four 
accents  occur:  neopouard  (p.  35)  ;3  snlte  (37, 
64);  to  (37,  73) ;  manful  (69,  1069).  The  accent 
in  neopouard  is  evidently  not  intended  to 
indicate  that  the  u  is  long,  but  probably  that 
it  here  has  the  function  of  a  consonant.  In  the 
Codex  Aurens  inscription  (about  870)  there 
are  about  ten  accents,  all  of  which  occur  on 
long  vowels,  if  we  except  m  and  on  (cf.  p.  176). 
The  Durham  Admonition  (end  of  ninth  cent.) 
has  one  accented  word,  to  (p.  176),  as  has 
also  the  Lorica  Gloss  (first  half  of  ninth  cent.); 
namely  wdl  (p.  176).  The  Erfurt  Gloss 
(about  900)  shows  no  accents.  The  Saxon 
Charters  which  begin  with  the  year  692  and 
continue  till  about  the  end  of  the  ninth  cen- 
tury, are  without  accents  till  the  year  831.  In 
an  Oswulf  charter  of  this  date  (MS.  Cott.  Aug., 
ii,  79)  there  are  two  accented  long  vowels  :  &n 
(444,  17);  agcefe  (444,  27).  Then  in  an  Abba 
charter  dated  834  (MS.  Cott.  Aug.,  ii.  64,)  we 
find  three  or  four  accented  vowels,  the  word 
wiif  appearing  three  times  written  with  ii  and 
an  accent  over  the  second  i:  wiif  (447,  9,  14, 
22);  ganganne  (447,  17);  dgefc  (447,  19).  In  the 
Ceolnofr  charter  of  838  two  or  three  accents 
appear;  Ceolnofr*  (MS.  Cott.  Aug.,  ii,  21),  tAn 
(434,  n);  Ceolnodfc  (MS.  Cott.  Aug.,  ii,  20)  tun 
(435,  i),  uuilton  (435,  7),  eadhun  (435,  7),  dsrici 
(435»  9)-  1°  uuilton  the  accent  over  the  first  » 
seems,  as  in  neopouard  above,  to  be  for  the 
purpose  of  showing  that  the  letter  is  here  a 
consonant.  Ceolno#c  (Cott.  Aug.,  ii,  37)  tun 
(435i  13).  uuiltun  (435,  19).  ^Eflelwulf*  (MS. 
Stowe,  16)  of  A.D.  843  has  med  (436,  5),  and 
^Edelwulfa  (MS.  Cott.  Aug.,  ii,  60)  has  stur 
(437,  4).  Another  ^Edelwulf  charter  (MS.  Cott. 
Ch.,  viii,  36),  date  847,  contains  several  ac- 
cents: die  (434,  5,  8,  20);  s<z  (434,  9,  22);  hreod- 
/<$/(434.  l6);  suinhaga  (434,  17);  brdc  (434,  21). 

a  These  approximate  dates  are  given  by  Sweet  in  his  Fac- 
simile Ed.  of  the  Epinal  Gloss.  London  1883,  and  in  hi* 
The  Oldest  English  Texts.  London,  1885,  upon  which  the 
writer  has  had  to  rely  for  the  earliest  sources  of  OE. 

3  References  are  to  The  Oldest  Fnglish  Texts. 


In  J££elberht4  (MS.  Cott.  Ch.,  viii.  32)  of  862 
there  are  wdn  (438,  4);  Cystaninga  (439,  13). 
Finally  yElfred*  (MS.  Stowe,  19),  dated  889 
shows  dn  (452,  28);  hio  (452,  36);  hit  (452,  37) ; 
wisan  (452,  54).  Under  tbis  head  fall  also  a 
few  OE.  proper  names  from  Bede  (Lib.,  i,  7): 
Netlingu&cdester  (133) ;  uuscfrea  (136,  96). 

Of  the  masterpieces  of  O.E.  prose  the  fol- 
lowing have  been  carefully  examined  :  The 
Vespasian  Psalter  (first  half  of  ninth  century), 
the  Pastoral  Care  (end  of  ninth  century),  the 
Orosius  (end  of  ninth  century),  fragment  of 
Alfred's  Book  of  Martyrs,  consisting  of  two 
leaves  of  MS.  Addison  23211  (end  of  ninth 
cent.),  Byrhtferff  s  Handbook  (ed.  Kluge,  An- 
glia  viii,  tenth  century  ?),  the  Blickling 
Homilies  (from  MS.  dated  971),  the  Life  of 
Malchus.  (MS.  Cott.  Otho,  C.i,  fol.  274.  End 
of  tenth  century.)  The  Gospels  (about  1000), 
Das  Leben  des  Chad  (ed.  A.  Napier,  Anglia 
x,  141  f.),  Evangelium  Nicodemi  (MS.  Cott. 
Vitell.,  A  15.  Beginning  of  the  eleventh  cen- 
tury), Aelfric's  Homilies  and  Lives  of  the 
Saints  (MSS.  of  eleventh  cent.),  Libri  Psal- 
morum  (MS.  of  the  eleventh  cent.),  the 
Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle  (parallel  texts  from 
seven  different  MSS.  of  eleventh  and  twelfth 
centuries),  the  Blooms  by  King  Alfred  or  the 
Anglo-Saxon  Anthology  (MS.  Cott.  Vitell.,  A 
15.  Beginning  of  twelfth  cent.).  With  the  ex- 
ception of  the  Vesp.  Psalter,  which  is  without 
accents,  these  MSS.  all  show  an  abundance  of 
quantity-marks.  In  the  Golden  Age  of  O.E. 
prose  literature  ;  that  is,  during  and  just  after 
the  reign  of  King  Alfred  the  Great,  the  ac- 
cents are  confined  with  comparatively  few  ex- 
ceptions to  etymologically  long  vowels.  In 
the  Cura  Past.,  for  instance,  it  is  extremely 
seldom  that  a  short  vowel  is  found  accented. 
Monosyllabic  particles  ending  in  a  single  con- 
sonant, like  is,  on,  un,  up,  ut  occur  very  fre- 
quently with  the  long  mark,  and  the  accenting 
of  these  monosyllables  so  often  in  the  best 
productions  of  Alfred  as  well  as  in  a  number 
of  other  careful  prose  MSS.  would  seem  to 
confirm  Sievers'  assertion  (cf.  Cook-Sievers 
O.  E.  Gram.,  p.  63,  §§122  f.)  that  "there 
is  a  tendency  in  O.E.  to  lengthen  monosyl- 
labic words  ending  in  a  single  consonant." 

Beginning   with    the   ninth  century,  accent 
marks    occur    with    increasing    frequency    in 


21 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


22 


prose  MSS.  till  about  the  beginning  of  the 
eleventh  century.  However,  there  is  no  MS. 
known  which  consistently  marks  its  long 
vowels  throughout.  And  where  there  is 
more  than  one  MS.  of  the  same  production  in 
existence,  accents  usually  occur  with  very  dif- 
ferent degrees  of  frequency.  The  Hatton 
MS.  of  Cura  Past.,  for  example,  is  well  sup- 
plied with  quantity-marks,  while  the  Cotton 
MSS.  of  same  text  have  very  few.  Of  the 
seven  MSS.  used  by  Thorpe  for  his  edition  of 
the  Chronicle,  three  (Cott.  Tiber.  A.  vi., 
Cott.  Tiber.  B.  i,  and  Cott.  Tiber.  B.  14)  have 
a  large  number  of  accents,  in  one  (CCCC.  173) 
they  occur  less  frequently,  and  the  remaining 
three  (Cott.  Domit.,  A.  viii,  Bodl.  Laud.,  and 
Cott.  Otho  B.  xi)  show  accented  vowels  very 
seldom,  and  then  the  accents  are  confined  al- 
most entirely  to  monosyllables.  In  the  Blick- 
ling  Homilies,  the  Chronicle,  the  O.E.  Vers- 
ion of  the  Gospels,  Alfred's  Blooms,  and  a 
few  others  there  are  not  infrequent  instances 
of  words  written  with  double  vowels  which 
have  an  accent  over  each  vowel.  In  words 
like  dd  (Blick.  Horn.  9,  18  ;  29,  32,  etc. 4) ;  ee 
(Chron.,  91,  8,  n  ;  93,  12,  etc.s);  IsA&c  (Gos- 
pels, i,  36);  Nddson  (ibid,  i,  7);  RAdb  (ibid. 
i,  9);  Bethleem  (ibid.  2,  23);  nedr  (Blooms 
349,  137)  it  is  difficult  to  see  just  what  the 
scribes  intended  by  using  the  accents  over 
the  successive  vowels.  In  other  cases,  how- 
ever ;  as  todpea  (for  tohopea,  Blooms  334,  29  ; 
335.  45):  tddpan  (ibid.,  336,  23);  togttnan 
(ibid.,  344,  28);  wilnie  (ibid.,  335,  48)  one  of 
the  two  accents  was  probably  intended  to 
show  that  a  consonant  was  omitted  in  writ- 
ing. It  is  also  possible  that  the  double  accent 
was  intended  in  some  cases  to  serve  the  same 
purpose  as  the  diaeresis  in  modern  English. 
This  is  undoubtedly  the  case  in  ByrhtferW 
where  the  ii  of  the  gen.  sing,  of  the  Latin 
names  of  months  has  the  double  accent.  Cf. 

4  Cf.  The  Blickling  Homilies  of  the  Tenth  century,  ed . 
by   Richard  Morris.     London,  1880. 

5  The  Anglo-Saxon   Chronicle  ace.  to  the  Several  Origi- 
nal Authorities,  ed.  by  Benj.  Thorpe.     London,  1861. 

6  The  Anglo-Saxon    Version  of  the  Holy  Gospels,  «d.  by 
Benj.  Thorpe.     London,  1841. 

7  Blooms  von  Konig  Aelfred,  hrsg.  von  W.  Hulme.     Eng. 
Stud,  xviii,  332  f. 

8  Cf.  F.  Kluge's  edition  Anglia  viii,  pp.  298  f. 


Martii  (Byrht.  306,  10);  ianuarii  (ibid.  314,  28, 
32),  etc.  But  neither  of  these  two  suppositions 
satisfactorily  accounts  for  the  accents  in  <frf, 
tt,  IsAAc,  RdAb,  fdd  (Andreas  15939),  etc. 
Nor  is  the  significance  of  the  accent  on  each 
of  the  syllables  of  words  like  AdAnt  (Evang. 
Nicod.  fol.  72a,  and  frequently  in  prose  and 
poetry)  at  all  clear. 

In  the  later  prose  MSS.  accents  continue  to 
occur, — in  some  like  the  Blooms  MS.  in  pro- 
fusion,— but  the  scribes  are  no  longer  so  care- 
ful to  place  them  over  long  vowels  as  they 
were  in  the  earlier  MSS.  Short  vowels  and 
those  of  unstressed  syllables  are  frequently 
accented.  In  numerous  instances  the  marks 
even  stand  over  consonants,  thus  showing 
general  carelessness,  haste,  or  ignorance  on 
the  part  of  the  scribes.  This  confusion  in  the 
use  of  accents  of  MSS.  of  the  eleventh  and 
twelfth  centuries,  as  well  as  the  frequently 
corrupt  and  almost  illegible  state  of  many  of 
the  texts,  is  attributable  in  great  part  to  the 
fact  that  scarcely  any  of  the  OE.  MSS.  of  this 
period  are  original ;  that  is  to  say,  they  are  all 
copies  of  older  MSS.10  Nevertheless  in  spite  of 
all  this  carelessness  and  confusion  in  the  use 
of  quantity-marks,  the  tendency  is  even  in  the 
most  corrupt  MSS.  to  use  accents  over  etymo- 
logically  long  vowels,  when  they  are  used  at 
all.  In  the  Blooms  MS.  which  belongs  to  the 
beginning  of  the  twelfth  century  and  which 
shows  a  profusion  of  accents,  frequently  in- 
discriminately employed,  the  proportion  of 
long  accented  to  short  accented  vowels,  if  we 
except  monosyllables  in  a  single  consonant,  is 
about  as  7  to  i. 

The  O.E.  poetry  to  which  the  writer  has  had 
access  includes  Zupitza's  Facsimile  edition  of 
the  Beowulf  MS.;  the  socalled  Czedmonian 
poems  (MS.  Bodl.  Jun.,  xi),  the  latter  part  of 
which  (called  usually  Christ  and  Satan}  the 
writer  himself  transcribed ;  Andreas,  Elene 
and  the  other  shorter  poems  which  are  con- 
tained in  Grein-Wiilker,  Bibliothek  der  as. 
Poesie,  bd.  ii,11  in  the  appendix  of  which  Wiil- 
ker  gives  a  list  of  the  accented  vowels  of  these 
MSS. 

9  Cf.  WUlker-Grein.     Bibliothek  der  ags.  f'oes/e   ii,  s  204. 

10  Cf.  "Some  Points  of  English  Orthography  in  the  Twelfth 
Century  "  by  A.  S.  Napier.     Academy,  vol.  37,  pp.  133-4. 

11  Cf.  Die  SPrache  der  ae.  Bttrb.  der  Solil.  Augtistins,  p. 
79- 


11 


January,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


24 


There  are  comparatively  few  accents  em- 
ployed in  the  Beowulf  MS., — about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  all  told — and  these  fall  almost 
without  exception  on  long  vowels.  One  pecul- 
iarity,which  is  rather  striking  in  the  accentu- 
ation of  Beowulf  and  more  so  in  Byrhtferd  is 
that  the  overwhelming  majority  of  the  accents 
fall  near  the  beginning  or  end  of  the  lines  in 
the  MSS.,  or  at  all  events  near  a  break  in  the 
lines.18  The  first  part  of  the  Caedmon  MS., 
that  is,  that  part  which  contains  Genesis, 
Exodus,  and  Daniel  has  numerous  quantity- 
marks  over  short  as  well  as  long  vowels,  their 
indiscriminate  use  here,  as  in  later  prose  MSS., 
indicating  carelessness  or  ignorance  qn  the 
part  of  the  scribe.  This  carelessness  is  also 
discernible  through  a  few  leaves  of  the  second 
part  of  the  MS.,  after  which  the  hand  writing 
changes,  accents  become  less  frequent,  and 
are  only  used  over  long  vowels,  all  showing 
that  this  part  of  the  MS.  was  written  by  a  dif- 
ferent and  more  painstaking  scribe. 

The  MSS.  of  Andreas,  Elene,  etc.,  employ 
quantity-marks  in  abundance,  and  these  are 
confined  almost  without  exception  to  etymo- 
logically  long  vowels. 

To  recapitulate  and  sum  up  the  results  of 
the  examination  of  the  sources  mentioned 
above  :  accents  appear  not  to  have  come  into 
use  in  OE.  MS.  writing  until  the  beginning  of 
the  eighth  century;  they  do  not  appear  with 
frequency  in  any  MS.  before  the  latter  part  of 
the  ninth  century;  from  this  time  till  about  the 
eleventh  century  they  are  used  correctly  with 
increasing  frequency  by  the  majority  of  the 
best  MSS.;  no  attempt  seems  to  have  been 
made  in  any  MS.  to  be  consistent  in  the  use  of 
accents ;  the  MSS.  of  the  later  OE.  period, 
being  copies  of  older  ones,  generally  show 
carelessness  in  employing  accents,  but  even 
here  the  tendency  of  scribes  was  to  mark  only 
long  vowels ;  several  MSS.  show  accents  not 
infrequently  on  each  of  two  successive  vowels 
of  a  word,  the  significance  of  which  in  many 
cases  is  not  at  all  clear  ;  sometimes  the  accents 
seem  to  have  been  thrown  in  for  purposes  of 
ornament,  probably  after  the  page  had  been 
finished;  this  is  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  es- 
pecially in  later  MSS.  the  accents  appear  over 

ia  My  attention  was  called  to  this  peculiarity  by  Prof. 
Hempl  of  the  University  of  Michigan. 


flexional  and  unstressed  syllables,  and  even 
over  consonants.  That  the  accents  of  Beo- 
wulf and  Byrhtferd  fall  in  most  cases  near  the 
beginning  or  end  of,  or,  at  least,  near  a  break 
in  the  (line,  is  probably  accounted  for  by  the 
fact,  that  they  were  dashed  in  by  the  scribe, 
where  they  would  be  most  conspicuous,  after 
the  page  had  been  copied.  This  tendency  is,, 
however,  not  noticeable  in  the  later  MSS.  like 
that  of  the  Blooms,  Evangelium  Nicodemi, 
nor  even  in  the  earlier  Bodl.  Junius  xi,  where 
accents  may  be  found  as  frequently  about  the 
middle  of  the  line  and  not  near  any  break,  as 
near  the  extremities  of  or  breaks  in  the  same. 


WM.  H.  HULME. 


Western  Reserve  University' 


THE    FERRARA    BIBLE.     II. 

DE  CASTRo's1  reasoning  that  the  text  of 
the  Ferrara  Bible  is  based  on  previous  older 
translations  can  not  be  contested.  In  the  in- 
troduction "  al  letor,"  the  publishers,  or  edi- 
tors, of  the  two  identical  editions,  say  ;  "  Fue 
forcado  de  seguir  el  lenguaje  que  los  anti- 
guos  Hebreos  Espanoles  vsaron,"  and  the  evi- 
dence adduced  by  de  Castro  goes  to  show 
that  Pinel  and  Usque  had  at  best  only  re- 
modelled the  language  of  the  manuscripts, 
which  were  several  centuries  older  than  the 
date  of  the  printing  of  the  Ferrara  Bible. 
The  internal  evidence  for  this  supposition  is  to 
be  found  in  the  many  words  used  therein  that 
were  foreign  to  the  writers  of  this  period,  and 
in  the  spelling  which  had  been  abandoned  ere 
this  by  the  Spanish. 

That  the  idiom  used  in  the  Bible  is  not  iden- 
tical with  the  Spanish  spoken  at  that  time 
by  the  Jews  in  the  diaspora  is  proved  by  the 
fact  that  the  Ladino  edition2  of  it  published  in 
Hebrew  characters  fifteen  years  later  at  Sal- 
onichi,  found  it  necessary  to  modify  the  forms 

1  Biblioteca.  Espanola.      Tomo  primero,  que  contiene  la 
noticia  de  los  Escritores   Kabinos   Espanoles  desde  la  epoca 
conocida   de   su   literatura   hasta   el   presente.    SuautorD. 
Joseph  Rodriguez  de  Castro,  Madrid  1781,  p.  410  ff. 

2  Biblioteca  Espanola-Portugueza- yudttica,     Dictionnaire 
bibliographique  des    auteurs  juifs,  de    leurs  ouvrages  espa- 
gnols  et  portugais  et  des  oeuvres  sur  et  centre  les  Juifs    et  le 
JudaTsme.     Avec  un  apersu  sur  la  litu'rature  des   Juifs  es- 
pagnols    et   une  collection  des  proverbes   espagnols  par  M, 
KayserMng.     Strasbourg,   1890,  p.  28. 


12 


25  January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  \. 


26 


of  many  words  ;  even  the  Ferrara  Bible  itself 
had  to  undergo  a  revision,  and  the  reprint  of 
1630,  according  to  De  Rossi, 3  introduced  a 
number  of  new  words  for  those  which  had  be- 
come unintelligible.  The  edition  of  1646  is 
still  further  changed,  and  the  Humas  6  cinco 
libros  de  la  Ley  Divina*  published  in  1665  at 
Amsterdam,  in  its  attempts  to  make  the  lan- 
guage conform  to  the  literary  Spanish  lan- 
guage, has  been  compelled  still  further  to 
modify  the  words.  The  endings  -ays,  -eys  are 
substituted  for  -ades,  -edes ;  for  sobradura, 
arrabalde,  caronal,  ajuntarse  are  substituted 
redano,  arrabal  cercano,  juntarse,  etc. 

While  the  language  of  the  Ferrara  Bible  is 
indubitably  older  than  that  of  the  sixteenth 
century  and,  on  the  whole,  the  vocabulary  is 
the  same  as  that  of  the  Castilian  of  the  period 
of  the  original  manuscripts,  it  is  evident  that 
many  words  owe  their  origin  to  an  attempt  to 
give  exact  equivalents  for  words  in  the  He- 
brew text.  When  Cassiodoro  de  Reynas  trans- 
lated the  Bible  a  very  short  time  later,  he 
also  was  confronted  with  the  task  of  creating 
new  words.  His  innovations  have  found  their 
way  into  the  literary  language,  and  the  corre- 
sponding ones  of  the  Ferrara  Bible  have  been 
permanently  added  to  the  language  of  the 
Spanish  Jews. 

Reyna  acknowledges  his  obligations  to  the 
Ferrara  Bible  in  the  following  words  : 

De  la  vieja  Translacion  Espanola  del  Viejo 
Testamento,  impressa  en  Ferrara,  nos  a- 
uemos  ayudado  en  semejantes  necessidades 
mas  que  de  ninguna  otra  que  hasta  aora 
ayamos  visto,  no  tanto  por  auer  ella  siempre 
acertado  mas  que  las  otras  en  casos  seme- 
jantes, quanto  por  darnos  la  natural  y  primera 
significacion  de  los  vocablos  Hebreos,  y  las 
differencias  de  los  tiempos  de  los  verbos, 
como  estan  en  el  mismp  texto,  en  lo  qual  es 
obra  digna  de  mayor  estima  (a  juyzio  de  todos 
los  que  la  entienden)  que  quantas  hasta  aora 
ay:  y  por  esta  tan  singular  ayuda,  de  la  qual  las 

3  DeTypographia  Hebraeo-P"errar:ensi  Cemmentarius  His- 
toricus,  quo  Ferrarienses  Judaeorum  editiones  Hebraicae 
Hispanicae  Lusitanae  recensentur  et  illustrantur.  Parmae: 
Ex  regie  Typographeo,  1780. 

4  Biblioteca  Espanola-Portugueza-yudnica,  etc.,  p.  19. 

5  On   the   relation   that  this  translation  and  the  identical 
edition  of  Cipriano  de  Valera  bear  to  previous  translations, 
read   Castro,    Biblioteca   Espeirtola,  vol.    i,  pp.  465  ff.     The 
corresponding  notices  in  Brunei,  Didot's  Nouvelle  Biogrnphie 
Universelle  and  the  Catalogue  of  the  Boston  Public  Library 
are  wrong  and  misleading. 


otras  translaciones  no  ha  gozado,  esperamos 
que  la  nuestra  por  lo  menos  no  sera  inferior 
a  ninguna  de  ellas. 

He  excuses  himself  for  differing  from  the 
Ferrara  version  in  the  use  of  certain  words  : 

Los  vocablos  Reptil,  y  Esculptil,  y  Esculp- 
tura  de  q  algunas  vezes  auemos  vsado,  nos 
parece  q  tiene  tabien  alguna  necessidad  de 
desculpa  por  ser  estranos  de  la  legua  Esp. 
Reptil,  es  animal  q  anda  arrastrado  el  pecho 
y  vietre,  como  culebra,  lagarto.  propiamete 
pudieramos  dezir  serpiente,  si  esto  vocablo  no 
estuuiesse  ya  e  significacio  muy  differete  del 
inteto.  La  de  Ferrara  fingi6,  como  suele,  un 
otro  vocable  a  mi  parecer  no  menos  estrano, 
Remouilla.  Los  otros  dps  Esculptil  y  Esculp- 
tura,  quiere  dezir  imagines  esculpidas  a  sin- 
zel  6  buril.  La  Escriptura  por  mas  afear  la 
idolatria  llama  los  idolos  las  menos  vezes  de 
los  nobres  proprios  que  tenia  entre  los  q  los 
horraua.  mas  comunmete  los  llama  del  nobre 
de  la  materia  de  que  'se  hazen,  palo,  piedra, 
oro  o  plata  &c.  otras  vezes  de  la  forma,  obra 
de  manos  de  hobres.  lo  mas  ordinario  de  to- 
do  es  llamarlos  del  modo  con  que  se  hazen, 
Fundiciones,  o  Vaziadizos,  o  cosas  hechas  & 
buril  o  sinzel :  que  es  lo  que  nosotros  retuui- 
mos  del  Latin  (por  no  hallar  vn  vocablo  solo 
espafiol)  Esculptura  :  la  de  Ferrara,  Doladizo, 
que  es  como  dixera,  Acepilladizo,  lo  qual  es 
menos  de  lo  que  se  pretende  significar.  Esto 
quanto  a  los  vocablos  nueuos  de  que  auemos 
usado  en  nuestra  version,  acerca  de  los  quales 
rogamos  Ji  la  Iglesia  del  Senor  y  singularmente 
a  cada  pio  lector,  que  si  nuestra  razon  no  le 
es  bastante,  nos  escuse  y  supporte  con  su 
Charidad. 

A  number  of  words  referring  to  religious 
observances  are  untranslated  in  the  Ferrara 
Bible  and  have  been  perpetuated  in  the  Lad- 
iho ;  such  are:  Debir  Sanctum  Sanctorum, 
mamzer  bastard,  zizith  fringe  of  the  Scarf, 
pesah,  Passover,  bamah  altar,  roshodes  first  of 
the  month,  pasuqnim  verses,  sabat  Sabbath, 
aphthora  division  of  the  prophets  read  on  the 
Sabbath,  quipur  atonement,  minhah .  after- 
noon prayer,  subuot  feast  of  Weeks,  roz  asana 
New  Year,  sucot  feast  of  the  Tabernacles,  por- 
im  feast  of  Purim.6 

The  editors  claim  to  follow  Santes  Pagnino 

6  Another  word  is  Torn  for  Holy  Writ,  but  it  does  not 
occur  in  the  Bible:  otro  q  lo  signifique  todo,  y  por  no  ser 
entedido  del  comu.  pueda  venir  en  abuso,  como  los  vocablos 
Tora,  y  Pacto,  vsados  delos  ludios  Espafioles  el  primero  por 
la  Ley,  y  el  Segudo  por  el  Cflcierto  de  Dios  por  los  quales 
nuestros  Espafioles  les  leuantaufl  que  tenift  Una  tora  o  bezerra 
pintada  en  su  sinoga  (sic  !)  que  ndorauan  :  y  del  Pacto  sa- 
caron  por  refran  cfttra  ellos,  Aqui  pagareys  el  pato.  Reyna. 


January,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  I. 


28 


in  the  elucidation  of  doubtful  words,  to  which 
Castro7  says : 

Que  esta  edicion  de  Ferarra  se  hizo  por  los 
MSS.  antiguos  Espanoles,  se  confirma  con  la 
autoridad  de  Ricardo  Simon  que  en  el  cap. 
14  de  su  Disquis.  crit.  de  variis  Blbl.  edith. 
assegura,  que  los  Judios  de  Ferrara  no  si- 
guieron  en  su  Traduccion  Espanola  la  version 
de  Xantes  Pagnino,  como  ellos  dicen  en  el 
prologo,  sino  las  de  R.  Qimchi,  y  R.  Abraham 
Aben  Hezra,  y  otros  Judios  Espanoles  anti- 
guos, que  fueron  Maestros  ptiblicos  de  la  Ley 
en  las  Synagogas  de  Espana. 

It  was  a  good  stroke  of  policy  to  claim  to 
follow  Pagnino  who  was  regarded  as  an  au- 
thority in  the  Roman  Church  (tan  accepta  y 
estimada  en  la  Curia  Romana);  besides,  they 
could  do  so  in  most  cases  without  any  danger 
of  heresy,  for  Pagnino  himself  in  his  Thesau- 
rus Linguae  Sanctae  gives  in  every  doubtful 
case  the  opinion  of  the  Jewish  authorities 
mentioned  by  Simon,  and  R.  of  Salomon. 

Whatever  may  be  the  origin  of  the  words 
preserved  through  the  translation  of  the  Fer- 
rara Bible,  they  have  perpetuated  themselves 
in  the  language  of  many  a  Spanish  writer  of 
Jewish  faith.  In  speaking  of  the  metrical 
rendering  of  the  Psalms  by  David  Abena- 
tar  Melo — of  whom  Amador  de  losRios8  says, 
that  "  su  alma  estaba  dotada  de  un  temple 
superior." — the  Spanish  historian  uses  the 
following  words : 

En  ellos  se  encuentran  alteradas  algunas 
frases  y  palabras,conserv&ndose  otras  antiguas, 
y  desterradas  ya  del  lenguage  yadmiti£ndose, 
en  fin,  otras  de  diferentes  idiomas  y  en  espe- 
cial del  italiano.  Estas  observaciones  que  en 
parte  quedan  comprobadas  en  los  trozos  ar- 
riba  trascritos,  manifiestan  el  estado  en  que  se 
hallaba  la  lengua  espanola  entre  los  hebreos, 
&  principios  del  siglo  xvii,  bien  que  como  en  su 
lugar  observaremos,  no  faltaron  en  este  tiempo 
doctos  cultivadores  del  habla  castellana  entre 
los  escritores  de  aquella  raza.  Llaman,  no 
obstante,  la  atencion  el  uso  de  ciertos  verbos, 
olvidados  ahora,  que  dan  mucho  vigor  &  la 
frase,  prestando  no  poco  nervio  &  las  locucio- 
nes  poeiicas.  Entre  otros  citaremos  los  si- 
guientes:  soberviar,  por  ensobervecerse;  bizar- 
rear,  por  ser  bizarro ;  envoluntar,  por  tener 
aprecio ;  aviltar,  por  envilecer;  tempestear, 
por  haber  tempestad,  etc.,  todo  lo  cuaj,  contri- 
buye  en  los  Salmos  de  Melo  a  producir  cierto 
movimiento  en  el  lenguage,  que  les  infundeun 

7  Biblioteca  Espanola,  vol.  i,  pp.  408-409. 

8  Estudios  historicos,  politicos  y  literarios  sobre  los  Judios 
de  Espafla  por   D.  Josj  Amador  de  los  Rios.     Madrid,  1848, 
p.  531. 


caracter  determinado. 

A  reference  to  the  vocabulary  will  show 
that  all  words  except  bizarrear  are  not  new 
creations  of  the  poet  and  that  the  latter  is 
formed  in  strict  analogy  with  amananear, 
atardcar,  atercear,  nadear,  tempestear.  The 
Italian  influence  of  which  de  los  Rios  speaks, 
is  a  mere  fiction ;  the  divergence  of  Melo's 
diction  from  the  common  Castilian  form  is  due 
to  the  influence  of  the  Ferrara  Bible  and  prob- 
ably of  the  Ladino  spoken  by  the  Jews.  So 
again  in  referring  to  David  Cohen  de  Lara, 
who  wrote  in  the  seventeenth  century,  de  los 
Rios  says  :9 

David  Cohen  de  Lara  usa  con  frecuencia  de 
giros  y  palabras  anticuadas  ya  en  la  £poca  en 
que  escribia,  tales  como  espandimiento,fon- 
sado,  encomendanza,  afermosiguar,  tranzar, 
etc.  Esto  produce  cierto  amaneramiento  en 
su  estilo,  generalmente  hablando,  si  bien  no 
carece  de  vigor  y  sencillez  su  lenguage,  como 
demuestra  el  trozo  que  dejamos  copiado. 

Here  again  the  words  in  italics  will  be  found 
in  the  vocabulary  of  the  Ferrara  Bible,  and 
the  accusation  of  mannerism  is  unjust.  Brought 
up,  as  were  the  Jewish  writers  of  Spain,  under 
the  influence  of  the  Jewish  faith  which  found 
its  expression  in  Spanish  through  prayerbooks 
and  rituals  whose  language  is  based  on  that  of 
the  Ferrara  Bible,  it  was  natural  for  them  to 
imbibe  and  perpetuate  the  diction  contained 
in  the  Bible.  This  same  spirit  of  religious  in- 
spiration prevades  and  modifies  to-day  the 
living  idiom  as  spoken  in  the  Levant,  when  it 
is  used  for  literary  purposes,  hence  a  full  ap- 
preciation of  the  language  of  the  Ferarra 
Bible  is  necessary,  if  one  wishes  to  investigate 
the  fate  of  the  Castilian  tongue  when  carried 
abroad  by  the  Jews  of  Spain. 

It  has  been  impossible  to  obtain  the  first 
edition  of  the  Ferrara  Bible  of  1553.  There 
is  but  one  copy  of  it  in  this  country,  forming 
part  of  Prof.  Knapp's  library,  now  in  the 
possession  of  Mr.  Huntington  of  Worcester, 
N.  Y.;  my  investigation  is  therefore  based  on 
that  of  1630.  De  Rossi  claims  that  ,  some 
words  in  this  edition  have  been  substituted 
for  older  forms,  and  that  otherwise  changes 
have  been  made.  These  changes  are,  how- 
ever, so  irregular  and  imcomplete  that  prob- 
ably but  few  words  have  escaped  me  by  not 

9  Ibid.;  p.  567. 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


using  the  first  edition.  So,  while  /has  gener- 
ally been  changed  to  h,  it  remains  unchanged 
in  Job  xxxii-xxxvi ;  in  Leviticus  removable  is 
used  for  removilla  in  Genesis ;  in  Ezekiel 
canton  is  used  for  rincon  elsewhere,  umbral 
or  ombral  for  lumbral,  alimaria  for  animalia 
or  alimana. 

In  the  vocabulary  I  have  generally  given 
the  equivalent  of  the  words  in  the  Reyna 
translation  and  quote  some  one  verse,  as  a 
rule  the  first  occurrence  of  the  word  ;  where 
no  exact  correspondence  in  Spanish  can  be 
established,  an  English  translation,  for  the 
most  part  that  of  the  Revised  King  James 
Bible,  is  given.  Where  such  a  translation  is 
not  to  be  regarded  as  a  correct  rendition  of 
the  Spanish  original,  the  word  is  enclosed  in 
parentheses,  and  an  ambiguous  Spanish  trans- 
lation is  followed  by  an  English  equivalent.™ 

Before  passing  to  the  vocabulary,  a  few 
grammatical  additions  to  the  first  chapter 
must  be  made.  Accented  final  e  is  written  ee: 
see,  esperee,  esclamee,  tajee.  The  future  of 

IO  ABBREVIATIONS. 

AcaJ.=-D\cc\ona.r\o  de  la  Lengua  Castellana  por  la  Rea- 
Academia  Espaftola.     Duodecima  Ediciun,  Ma- 
drid, 1884. 
Bibl.  £'f/.=  Biblioteca  de  Autores  Espafioles  desde  la  forma- 

cion  del  lenguage  hasta  nuestrosdias. 
CWr»0=Diccionario  de  construcci6n  y   regimen   de  la 
lengua  Castellana.     Por  R.    J.  Cuervo,  Paris, 
i886,rl93. 

Hunt.  =Humas  o  cinco  libros  de  la  Ley  Divina.  juntas 
las  Hapharoth  del  anno,  etc.    Amsterdam,  5415 
=1655,  A.  D.    Cf.   Kayserling,  Biblioteca  Es- 
pafiola-Portugueza-Judaica,  p.  26. 
Lane—A.n  Arabic-English   Dictionary,  etc.,   London,' 

1883-1893. 

/Vj/?*.=Epitome  Thesavri  Lingvae  Sanctae,  Avctere 
Sante  Pagnino  Locensi.  Tertia  Editio.  An- 
tverpiae:  Ex  officina  Christophori  Plantini,  Ar- 
chitypographi  Regij,  1578. 

Ptnt.-=B\b\ia  Pentapla,  das  ist,  Die  Bflcher  der  heili- 
gen  Schrift,  nach  fflnffacher  deutscher  Verdol- 
metschung.  Hamburg,  1711.  The  references 
are  to  the  Judeo-German  translation  by  Witz«n- 
hausen. 

^?.=La  Biblia,  qve  es,  los  Sacros  Libros  del  Viejo  y 
Nuevo  Tcstamento.  Trasladado  en  Espaflol. 
(Cassiodoro  de  Reina)  1569. 

5«/.=Nuevo  diccionario  de  la  Lengua  Castellana  por 
Don  Vincente  Salva,  Septima  edicion,  Paris 
1865. 

Other  abbreviation!  are  those  generally  used,  and  will  be 
easily  understood  ;  a  dash  means  the  repetition  of  the  word 
in  question. 


verbs  in  -ner  ends  in  -me :  pornc,  ntanternf, 
verne.  The  subjunctive  of  yazer  is  yaza,  of 
caer  caya.  The  feminine  of  adjectives  in  -dor 
ends  in  -dera :  alborotador  alborotodera,  mo- 
rador,  moradera. 

A. 

ABASTADO.adj.  Todopoderoso,R.  Gen.  xvii,  i. 

The  nearest  approach  to  this  meaning 

is   that   given   by    Cuervo:    "Rico    y 

abundantemente  provisto." 
ABASTAR,  v.  Bastar,  R.  Num.  xi,  22.  Cuervo, 

same. 
ABAXAMIENTO,  n.    Baxeza,    R.    Eccl.    xii,  4. 

Acad. — ant.  acci6n  y  efecto  de  abajar.  It 

has  the  latter  meaning. 
ABAXAR,  v.  Abatir,  R.   Psalms  cvii,  39.  Cf. 

abassar  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii.  Acad. — ant.  ba- 

jar. 
ABAXARSE,  v.  Ser  abajado,  R.  Is.  v.  15.  Bibl. 

Esp.  Ivii.  Sal. — ant.  reducirse  &.  me"nos. 
ABEZADOR,  n.  Ensenador,  R.  Chron.  2  xv,  3. 

See  abezar. 
ABEZAR,    v.    Ensenar,    R.  Chron.    2  xvii,  9. 

Cuervo  avezar  ant. — . 
ABILTAR,  v.  Envilecer,  R.  Gen.  xlix,  4.    Bibl. 

Esp.  li  and  Ivii  Acad. — ant. — 
ABIVIGUANCA,  n.  Vida,  R.  Ez.  \x,g.     It  means 

'bringing  to'  or  'giving  life."    See  abivi- 

guar. 
ABIVIGUAR,   v.  Tener  vida,  R.   Gen.  vi,   19. 

More  generally — '  to  give  life ; '  from  a 

-\-vivificare. 
ABONDO,  n.  A  saz,  R.  Lev.  xii,  8.    Cf.  Cuervo, 

abondar.    Acad. — ant.  abundancia. 
ABONIGUAR,  v.    Hacer  bien,  R.  Gen.  iv,  7. 

From    a+bonificare.    Acad.  has   even 

bonificar,  ant.  abonar. 

ABORRICION,  n.  Enemistad,  R.  Num.  xxxv,  22. 
ABORTADURA,  n.  First  birth,  Ex.  xiii,  12. 

Acad — ant.   aborto,  but  it  always  has 

the  meaning  of  'first,'  not  'premature 

birth.' 
ABOSTILLAR,  v.  (Pelar),  R.  Is.  iii,  17.    Since 

Pagn.  has  scabie  afficere  and  Pent,  grin- 
dig   machen,   the    word    is=apostillar; 

the  change  of  p  to  b  is  normal. 
ABREVADERA,     n.    Pila,    R.    Gen.    xxiv,    20. 

Trough.    A  feminine  form  of  abrevador. 
ABREVAR,  v.  Dar  &  bever  (of  man),  R.  Gen. 

xxiv,  17.     Given  in  Cuervo,  but  not  in 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     VoL  xi,  No.  i. 


Acad.  or  Sal. 

ABSTINADO,  adj.  Inconstante,  R.  Ezek.  xvi,  30. 
Blitz  giswecht,  hence  it  is  a  past  parti- 
ciple of  abstener.  Such-ado-forms  of 
-verbs  not  in  -ar  are  not  uncommon  in 
the  Bible. 

ABUTRE,  rj.  Bueytre  (i.e.  buitre),  R.  Deut.  xiv, 

13- 

ACALCEAR,  v.  Allanar,  R.  Is.  Ivii,  14.  Formed 
from  #+verb  calcear,  derived  from 
calzada ;  a  few  infinitives  in  -ear  for 
-ar  occur. 

ACANTONADO,  adj.  En  los  rincones,  R.  Ezek. 
xlvi,  22.  From  acantonar  with  primitive 
meaning. 

A£ECALAR,  v.  Acicalar,  R.  Gen.  iv,  22.  Sal. — 
ant. — 

ACELADAR,  v.  Asechar,  R.  Hos.  vii,  6.  Etym. 
a+verb  celadar  formed  from  celada,  em- 
boscada  de  gente  armada,  etc.  Acad. 

ACIMENTARSE,  v.  Fundarse,  R.  Ex.  ix,  18. 
Acad. — ant.  establecerse  6  arraigarse  en 
algun  pueblo. 

ACLARAMIENTO,  n.  Pronunciacion,Hum.  Num. 
xxx,  7.  Formed  from  aclarar  in  the 
sense  of  poner  en  claro,  declarar,  mani- 
festar,  explicar.  Acad. 

ACOGEDIZO,  n.  Vulgo,  R.  Num.  xi,  14.  Cf. 
Acad. — adj.  lo  que  se  recoge  facilmente 
y  sin  eleccion. 

ACCOSTAR,  v.  Irse,  R.  Gen.  xxxviii,  i.  Ac- 
cost. The  neuter  not  in  Cuervo,  but 
cf.  acostando,  acercando,  aproximan. 
dose  in  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii. 

ACUNADAR,  v.  Hacer  parentesco  R.  Gen. 
xxxviii,  8.  Etym.  a+verb  formed  from 
cunado,ant.  pariente  porafinidad  en  cual- 
quier  grado.  Acad. 

ADERECHAR,  v.  Ir  a  la  derecha,  R.  Gen.  xiii, 
9.  Formed  in  analogy  with  Hebrew 
y'dymhicih  from  a-fverb  from  derecho. 

ADEUDAR  (una  deuda),  v.  Dar  emprestada  al- 
gunacosa,  R.  Deut.  xxiv,  10.  ADEUDAN, 
usurero,  R.  Ex.  xxii,  25.  Cf.  Acad. — 
ant.  obligar,  exigir ;  evidently  a  has 
here  a  causative  meaning. 

ADO,  adv.  Donde,  R.  Gen.  iii,  9.  Acad. — ant. 
adonde. 

ADOBER  (adobes),  v.  Hacer  el  ladrillo,  R.  Ex. 
v,  7.  ADOBEAR,  ibid,  v,  14.  Formed  by 
analogy  with  Hebrew  Iilb6n  halbhenim 


from  adobe.    Pagn.  has  it :  "ad  laterifi- 
candum  lateres." 
ADOLAR,  v.  Alisar,  R.  Ex.   xxxiv,  i.    Etym. 

a+dolar. 

ADOLME,  n.  Afrenta,  R.  Gen.  xvi,  5,    Hum. 
agravio.     Etym.    from    Arab,    thalima 

'  wrong  doing,'  or  more  correctly  from 
plural   thulmat  'unrighteousness,'  with 

prefixed  article  al. 

ADOLORIAR,  v.  Atormentar,  R.  Lev.  xxvi,  16. 
ADORMIDURA,  n.  Suefio,  R.  Gen.  ii,  21.    Cf. 

Acad.    adormimiento,    ant.    adormeci- 

miento. 
ADUFLAR,  v.  Danzar,  R.  Is.  iii,  16.  Properly, 

'walk  by  the  sound  of  the  adufle,'  q.  v. 
ADUFLE,  n.  Tamborino,  R  .Gen.  xxxi,  27.  This 

form  alone  occurs  for  adufe. 
ADUL?ARSE,   v.   Endulzarse,   R.   Ex.  xv.  25. 

Cf.  Acad.  adulzar,  ant.  endulzar. 
AFEDECER,   v.   Corromperse,   R.   Ex  vii,  21. 

Etym.  a-\-fedecer  from  heder. 
AFEDENTAR,   v.   Hacer  heder,  R.  Ex.  v,  21. 

Cf.  Acad.  hedentina,  olor  malo  y  pene- 

trante,  which  contains  the  stem  hedent 

of  this  verb. 
AFERMOSIGUAR,    v.  Honrar,  R.  Ex.  xxiii,  3. 

Original  meaning  is  '  to  make  beautiful.' 

Etym.  a-\-fermosificare. 
AFIGURAR    v.    Hacer,    R.    Kings    i,  vii,  15. 

Cast  (columns).     Etym.  a-\-figurar. 
AFINAMIENTO   (de  ojos),   n.   (Caimiento),  R. 

Deut.     xxviii,    65,    Hum.    consuncion ; 

Pent.  Finsternisz.     Hence  the  meaning 

is  '  destruction  ' ;  see  also  afinar. 
AFINAR,  v.  Desfallecer,  R.  Deut.  xxviii,  32. 

This  meaning  is  not  in  Cuervo. 
AFLACAR,  v.  Deshacer,  R.  Ex.  xvii,  13.    Acad. 

.   — ant.  enflaquecer. 
AFLAMEAR,  v.  Consumir,  R.  Joel  i,  19.     Poner 

fuego,  R.  Is.  xlii,  23.    Acad.  aflamar,  ant. 

inflamar.     Cf.    Bibl.   Esp.  Ivii,  flamear. 

For-^ar  for-ar,  cf.  acalcear. 
AFLITO,  adj.  Pobre,  R.  Psalms  ix,  9.     Part,  of 

afligir. 
AFONDEAR,  v.  tirar  con  la  honda,  R.  Jud.  xx, 

16.     Etym.  a+verb  from    honda    (Lat. 

fundd). 
AFONSADAR,  v.  Pelear,  R.  Num.  xxxi,  7.    Aco- 

meter,   R.   Gen.    xlix,    19.     Etym.    a-{- 

verb  homfonsado.  q.  v. 
AFORMAR,  v.  Formar,  R.  Ex.  xxxii,  4.     Bibl. 


16 


33 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.    Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


34 


Esp.  Ivii,  aflbrmado,  formado.    Sal. — 
ant. — . 

AFREIR,  v.  Humillar,  R.  Jud.  xix,  24.  Pent, 
peinigen.  Etym.  probably  a-\-freir. 

AFUERAS,  adv.  Allende,  R.  Gen.  xxvi,  i. 
Hum.  adenias.  Cf.  Acad.  afueras  de 
ant. 

AGUADUCHO,  n.  Regadera,  R.  Kings  i,  xviii, 
32.  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii — conducto,  avenida 
de  agua,  corriente  del  rio.  Acad. — ant. 
acueducto,  of  which  it  is  a  popular  form. 

AGUELA,  n.  La  que  me  engendr6,  R.  Song. 
Hi,  4.  I  cannot  account  for  this  meaning 
of  abuela.  Cue  for  bue,  that  is,  v ue,  be- 
comes more  common  in  Ladino. 

AHINOJARSE,  v.  Abatirse,  R.  Psalms  xlvi,  i. 
Acad. — ant.  arrodillarse. 

AHOLGANTAMIENTO,  n.  Reposo,  R.  Chron.  i, 
vi,  31.  Noun  from  following  verb. 

AHOLGANTAR,  v.  Dar  reposo,  R.  Deut.  xii, 
10.  Etym.  a+verb  from  holganza. 

AYNA,  adv.  Presto,  R.  Ex.  xxxii,  8.  Bibl. 
Esp.  li. 

AJUNTAR,  v.  Juntar,  R.  Ex.  xxxvi,  10.  Bibl. 
Esp.  Ivii.  Acad. — ant. — 

AJUNTARSE,  v.  Juntarse,  R.  Gen.  xlix,  2. 
Acad. — ant. — 

ALADERA,  n.  Bosque,  R.  Ex.  xxxiv,  13.  Prob- 
ably derived  from  aladierna  (from  Lat. 
alaternus):  cf.  also  Acad.  aladrero  car- 
pintero  que  labra  las  maderas  para  la 
entibaci6n  de  las  minas,  which  presup- 
poses this  word. 

ALAMBAR,  n.  Cassia,  R.  Ex.  xxx,  24.  It  is  no 
doubt  the  same  as  ambar  in  meaning, 
though  Hum.  and  Pent,  give  cassia. 

ALARZE,  n.  Cedro,  R.  Lev.  xiv,  4.  It  is  the 
translation  of  Hebrew  'erez,  but  evi- 
dently derived  from  Arab.  al-J-'arz  with 
the  same  meaning. 

ALASSARSE,  v.  Cansarse,  R.  Sam.  i,  xiv,  31. 
Cf.  Acad.  lasarse, — ant.  fatigarse,  can" 
sarse. 

AL^ACION,  n.  Holocausto,  R.  Gen.  viii,  20. 
This  verbal  noun  from  afyar  is  due  to 
Hebrew  vaya'hal  'h616th,  which  is  liter- 
ally translated  y  alcjo  alcaciones. 

ALCUNAR,  v.  Hablar  lisonjas,  R.  Job  xxxii, 
22.  Pent,  einen  Zunahmen  gebrauchen, 
which  at  once  indicates  its  origin  from 
alcnna  ant.  alcurnia,  Acad. 


ALCU^ARSE,  v.  Ponerse  por  sobrenombre,  R. 

Is.  xliv,  5;  see  alcunar. 
ALECHADERA,    n.    Ama,    R.  Gen.  xxiv,  59. 

Nurse.     Feminine  of  alechador. 
ALECHADOR,  adj.  Camellas  alechaderas  'milch 
camels,'  Gen.  xxxii,  15.    Formed  from 
the  verb  alechar. 

ALECHAR,  Dar  leche,  R.  Gen.  xxi,  7.    Criar 
('bring  up'),   R.  Ex.  ii,    9.    Mamar,  R. 
Psalms  viii,  3.     Cf.  the  two  meanings  of 
Eng.   suckle  (suck  and  give  to  suck). 
Etym.  a-fverb  from  leche. 
ALETANTAMIENTO,  n.  No  sera — ,  no  podreis 
resistir,  R.  Lev.  xxvi,  37.    Acad — ant. 
levantamiento. 
ALEVANTAR,  v.  Levantar,  R.  Ex.  xl,  2.  Acad, 

— ant. — . 

ALFORRIA,  n.  Freedom,  emancipation  Ex. 
xxi,  2.  Etym.  Arab.  al-(-'hurriyah,  the 
state  of  freedom,  Lane.  The  retro- 
gressive change  of  h  to  /  is  not  un- 
common ;  cf.  Libra  de  Cantares  del 
Arfipreste  de  Fita,  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii  afor- 
rar,  ahorrar,  libertar,  redimir. 
ALIMPIADERA,  n.  Tazon,  R.  Ex.  xxv,  29.  Cf. 
Sal.  alimpiadero  ant.  el  paraje  por  donde 
se  limpia  6  purga  alguna  cosa,  emunc- 
torium,  but  it  is  probably  a  literal 
translation  of  Hebrew  mSnaqUh  from 
naqah  'to  be  pure.' 

ALIMALIA,  n.  Bestia,  R.  Kings.  2,  xiv,  9. 
This  metathesis  for  animalia  is  still 
further  changed:  Alimana,  Psalms  1,  10. 
Alimaria,  Ex.  xxiii,  n  and  always  in 
Ezekiel.  Animalia  occurs  in  Gen.  xxxvii, 
20.  Alimaria  not  in  the  dictionaries. 
ALINAJAR,  v.  Juntar  (por  linajes),  R.  Num.  i, 

18.     Etym.  fl+verb  form  linaje. 
ALISAMIENTO,  n.  Halago,  R.  Is.  xxx,  10. 
ALIVIANAR,   v.   Aflojar,   R.   Chron.   2,    x,    4. 

Acad. — ant.  aliviar. 

ALIZAR,  v.  Lisonjear,  R.  Psalm  v.  9.     A  figur- 
ative meaning  of  alisar. 
ALMENARA,  n.  Candelero,  R.  Chron.  i,  xxviii, 

15.     Acad. — ant. — 
ALMIZQUE,   n.   Almizcle,   R.   Psalms    xiv,   8. 

Acad. — ant. — 

ALMIZCLERA,  n.  Bujeta,  R.  Is.  iii,  19.  Pent. 
Biesemknopf.  Sal. — botecito  de  Almiz- 
cle. The  latter  is  probably  the  mean- 
ing here.  Almizcrera,  Jud.  viii,  26. 


35 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


ALONGAMIENTO  (de  furores),  n.  Luenga  pa- 

ciencia,  R.  Prov.  xxv,  15.    See  alongar. 
ALONGAR,  v.  Alegar,  R.  Prov.  xxii,  15.    Bibl. 

Esp.  Ivii.    Sal.  — ant. — 
ALTIUIDAD,    n.    Soberbia,  R.  Lev.  xxvi,   9. 

Acad. — ant.  altivez. 
ALUTARSE,  v.  Llorar  R.  Sam.  i,  xvi,  i.  Etym. 

o+verb  from  luto. 
ALLEGACION,  n.  Ofrenda,  R.  Lev.  i,  2.    A 

literal    translation    of  Hebrew    qorban 

oblatio    from    garabh     appropinquare, 

Pagn. 
ALLEGAR,  v.  Ofrecer,  R.  Lev.  i,  2.    Like  the 

above,  a  literal  translation  of  yaqribh 

from  qorabh  appropinquare,  Pagn. 
AMAJARSE,  v.  Encogerse,   R.  Psalms  x,  10. 

Etym.  a+majarse. 
AMANANEAR,  v.  Madrugar   a  buscar,   R.  Is. 

xxvi.    Etym.  a-\-mananear. 
AMARGARSE  (con  lloro),  v.  Llorar   amarga- 

mente,   R.   Is.   xxii,  4.    Translation  of 

Hebrew  'amare'r:  but  cf.  Acad.  amargar, 

causar  aflicci6n  6  disgusto. 
AMARIDAR,  v.  Tomar  mujer,  R.  Deut.  xxiv,  4. 

Etym.  a-\-maridar  (poco  usado)  casarse. 

Sal. 
AMATARSE,   v.    Apagarse,    R.    Lev.    vi,    12. 

Acad. — ant.  confundir,  borrar. 
AMEDIAR,  (sus  dias),  v.  Llegar  a  la  mitad  de 

— R.  Psalms  Iv,  23.     Como — la  noche,  a 

la  media  noche,  R.  Ex.  xi,  12.     Etym. 

a+verb    from    media,    but,    cf.    Acad. 

mediar  llegar  a  la  mitad    de    alguna 

cosa. 
AMOSTRADOR,  n.  Ensefiador,  R.  Joel  ii,   23. 

See  amostrar. 
AMOSTRAR,  v.  Mostrar,  R.  Gen.xli,  28.  Acad. 

— ant. — 
AMPARANC/A,  n.  Cubierta  R.  Psalms  cv,  39. 

In  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii — amparo,  but,  in  the 

Poema  del  Conde  Fernan  Gonzalez,  586, 

it  has  the  meaning  of  cubierto  or  pro- 

tecci6n  and  not   of  apoyo,  amparo   as 

given  in  the  glossary  : 

Matandose  el  mismo  con  su  mat  andanca, 
Non  pudo  tomar  escudo,  nin  pudo  tomar  lanca, 
Fuyo  a  vna  ermita,  ella  fue  su  anparanca 
De  mannana  fasta  noche,  alii  fue  su  estunga. 

Du  Cange  has  amparantia  tutela,  protec- 
tio  and  Godefroy  emparance  fortifica- 
tion, defence,  from  which  the  Spanish 


meaning  is  easily  developed. 

AMPARO,  n.  Manta,  R.  Sam.  2,  xvii,  19.  Like 
the  foregoing,  it  is  evolved  from  am- 
parar,  for  which  Cuervo  gives  as  primi- 
tive meaning,  defender  cubriendo;  gen- 
erally antipara  is  used  in  the  Bible,  and 
amparo  might  be  a  contraction  of  it  with 
the  tendency  to  liken  it  to  amparo,  help. 

AMURCHARSE,  v.  Fatigarse,  R.  Jer.  xvii,  8. 
Etym.  a+verb  from  murcho,  q.  v.. 

ANDADURA,  n.  Paseadero,  R.  Ezek.  xlii,  4. 
Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii. 

ANDAMIENTO,  n.  Prov.  xxx,  29.  Acad. — ant. 
modo  de  proceder  6  portarse. 

ANDAR,  n.  Suelo.  Gen.  vi,  16.  Pent.  Boedem. 
Acad. — ant. — 

ANICHILARSE,  v.  Hacerse  vano  R.  Kings  2, 
xvii,  15.  Probably  misprint  for  anihil- 
arse. 

ANOCHECIMIENTO,  n.  Growing  night.  Job. 
xxiv,  15. 

ANTIPARA,  n.  Velo,  R.  Ex.  xxvi,  31.  Either 
as  the  Acad.  surmises,  it  is  from  Low 
Latin  antiparies,  or  it  is  an  evolution  of 
amparo  through  a  learned  etymology. 

ANUVAR,  v.  Anublar,  R.  Gen.  ix,  14.  Etym. 
a+verb  from  nube. 

ANAZME,  n.  Zarcillo,  R.  Jud.  viii,  25.  Acad. — 
ant.  ajorac. 

ANIDAR,  v.  Hacer  el  nido,  R.  Jer.  xxii,  23. 
The  n  is  due  to  the  following  i. 

APALPAR,  v.  Palpar,  R.  Ex.  x,  21.  Sal. — 
ant. — 

APANAMIENTO,  n.  Ayuntamiento,  R.  Gen.  i, 
10.  Apafio  (given  in  the  Acad.)  has  not 
the  same  meaning.  Cf.  apanarse. 

APANARSE,  v.  Juntarse,  R.  Gen.  i,  9.  The 
Acad.  gives  as  its  etymology  <appan- 
gere,  juntar,  reunir  ?  The?  would,  per- 
haps,be  omitted, if  this  primitive  meaning 
were  noticed.  Cf.  Port,  apanharse  with 
the  same  meaning. 

APENORAR,  v.  Tomar  por  prenda,  R.  Deut. 
xxiv,  17.  Acad.  penorar,  ant.  pignorar. 

APERFICIONAR,  v.  Hacer  perfecto,  R.  Job 
xxii,  3. 

APARTADURA,  n.  Apartamiento,  R.  Ex.  xxix, 
28.— Ofrenda,  R.  Ex.  xxv,  2.  The  latter 
is  a  translation  of  Hebrew  te'rumah 
Oblatio,  sic  appellata,  (vt  quibusdam 
placet)  quod  sursum  et  deorsum  mouer- 


18 


37  January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


etur  aut  eleuaretur.  Separatioi.  oblatio 
nempe  separata  a  communi  vsu.  Pagn. 

APEGAR,  v.  Pegar,  R.  Gen.  xix,  19.  See 
Cuervo,  ape  gar. 

APENAR,  v.  Penar  (i,  e.  imponer  pena),  R.  Ex. 
xxi,  22.  This  meaning  is  not  in  Acad. 

APENDONEAR,  v.  Senalar,  R.  Songs  v,  10. 
Etym.  a+verb  from  pendon. 

APETITE,  n.  Intento,  R.  Gen.  viii,  21. 

APIADAR,  v.  '  Give  graceously,'  Gen.  xxxiii,  5. 

APIADARSE,  v.  Rogar,  R.  Gen.  xlii,  21.  Be- 
seech. 

APLAZADA,  n.  Ramera,  R.  Gen.  xxxviii,  21. 
This  participial  form  from  aplazar,  to 
appoint  (a  trysting  place),  must  have 
acquired  a  full  nominal  meaning,  as  is 
to  be  judged  from  the  peculiar  meaning 
of  the  masculine  aplazado, 

APLAZADO,  n.  Impuro,  R.  Kings  i,  xv,  12. 
Valera,  sometico. 

APLAZAR,  v.  Desposar,  R.  Ex.  xxi,  9.  In 
Cuervo:  Siglo  xiii :  "La  aplasd  "=sin 
filio  suo  despondent  earn.  The  usual 
meaning  of  convocar  occurs  in  Ex. 
xxv,  22. 

APOCAR,  v.  Ser  pequeno,  R.  Ex.  xii,  4.  Cf. 
Acad.  apocarse,  humillarse,  abatirse, 
tenerse  en  poco. 

APODRECERSE,  v.  Pudrirse,  R.  Joel  i,  17. 
Acad.  apodrecer,  ant.  podrecer. 

APORTILLADOR,  n.  Disipador,  R.  Dan.  xi,  14. 
From  aportillar,  which  in  the  Bible  oc- 
curs only  in  the  sense  of  '  destroy.' 

APOZADERA,  n.  Woman  who  draws  water, 
Gen.  xxiv,  n.  A  feminine  form  of 
apozador  from  apozar,  q.  v. 

APOZADERO,  n.  Acetre,  R.  Is.  xl,  15.  Formed 
from  the  following  verb. 

APOZAR,  v.  Draw  water  (from  well),  Gen.  xxiv, 
13.  Etym.  a-j-verb  from  pozo. 

APREGONAR,  v.  Pregonar,  R.  Gen.  xli,  43. 
Acad. — ant. — 

APREMIRSE,  v.  Ser  humillado,  R.  Is.  v,  15. 
APRIMIRSE  abajarse,  R.  Psalms,  x,  10. 
Cuervo:  "Usabase  ademas  en  el  siglo 
xiii  apremer,  apremir  comp.  de  premer." 

APRESSURAN£A,  n.  Con— ,  Apresuradamente, 
R.  Ex.  xii,  ii. 

APRESSUROSO,  adj.  Presuroso,  R.  Hab.  i,  16. 
Acad. — ant. — 

APUNEAR,  v.  Tomar  el  puno  lleno  de — ,    R. 


Lev.  ii,  2.     Cf.  Acad.  apufiar. 
AQUEDARSE,   v.    Estar  quieto,  R.  Chron.  2, 

xiv,  5.     Cf.  Acad.— ant.  dormirse. 
AQUETADO,  adj.  Quieto,  R.  Job  xxi,  23.    It  is 

really  a  participle  of  a  verb  aquetar. 
AQUINTAR,  v.  Quintar,  R.  Gen.  xli,  34. 
ARDEDOR  abolan,  n.  Ceraste  voladar,  R.  Is. 

xiv,   29.     Pent,  springendige,  brennen- 

dige  Otter.     Hence  it  is  equivalent  to 

ardor,  'burning  heat;'  the  form  is  due  to 

ardedura,  a  noun  from  order. 
ARDEDURA,  n.  Fuego,  R.  Gen.  xi,  3.    A  trans- 
lation of  Hebrew  vgnisrgphah  lisr£phah 

y  ardamos  por  ardedura. 
ARDER,  v.  Cocer,  R.  Gen.  xi,  3.    Cuervo — 

abrasar. 
ARINCONAR,  v.  Echar  del  mundo,  R.  Deut. 

xxxii,  26.     Etym.  a-(-verb  from  rincon. 

Cf.  Cuervo  arrinconar. 
ARMADOR,  n.  Flechero,  R.  Jer.  ii,  3. 
ARRABALDE,    n.    Ejido,    R.    Num.    xxxv,    3. 

Bibl.  Esp.   Ivii  arabalde.      Acad. — ant. 

arrabal. 
ARRABDONAR,  v.  (Sobrepujar),  R.   Is.  viii,  8. 

Overflow.      Etym.    a-(-verb    from    rab- 

don,  q.  v. 
ARRABDON,    n.    Turbion,   R.   Is.   iv.   6.     See 

rabdon. 
ARREBATADURA,  n.  That  which  is  torn,  Gen. 

xxxi,  39. 

ARREDAR,  v.  Ir.,  R.  Ex.  iii,  3  Pent,  sich  wen- 
den.      Cuervo  mentions  this  form    for 

arredrar. 
ARREDARSE,    v.  apartarse,   R.  Gen  xlii,  24. 

See  arredar. 
ARREGISTRARSE,  v.  Avergonzarse,  R.    Is.  xx, 

5.     Etym.  a+verb  from  registro,   q.  v. 
ARREMATAR,  v.  (Raer),  R,  Gen.  vi,  7.   Destroy. 

Probably  the  same    as  arrebatar  with 

the  popular  etymology  of  matar. 
ARRODEARSE,  v.  Volverse.  R.  Ezek.  xli,  24. 
ARRODEO  (del  ano),  n.  Vuelta — R.  Ex.  xxxiv, 

22. 
ASABENTARSE,   v.   Ser.  sabio,   R.   Ex.   i,   10. 

Etym.  a -(-verb  from  ^rt^//«"a=sabiduria. 
ASABORARSE,  v.  Ser  sabroso,  R.  Jer.  xxxi,  26. 

Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii.     Cf.  Acad.  asaborar,  ant. 

saborear. 

ASADURA,  n.  Asado,  R.  Is.  xliv,  16. 
ASAZONAR,   v.  Mirar  en  tiempos,  R.  Kings  2, 

xxi,    5.     Pent.    "  er    hat    gestiindeh." 


39 


January, 


MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


40 


Pagn.  translates  the  Hebrew  vS'hdne'n 

by    qui    computat    tempora  -et    horas. 

Etym.  a+verb  from  sazon. 
ASEDERSE,  v.  Tener  sed,  R.  Jud.  iv.  19.  Asede- 

scerse,  morir  de  sed,  R.  Job.  xxiv,  n. 

Etym.  a+verb  from  sed. 
ASEGUN,  prep.    Segun,  R.  Ex.  xvi,  16. 
AsEftALAR,  v.  (Tornar),  R.  Jos.  xviii,  17.  Pagn. 

translates  vStha'ar  by  et  circuibit,  but 

under   ta'ar   he   gives  aptare,  signare, 

hence  the  meaning  is  senalar. 
ASESTAR,  v.   Ofrecer  la  sexta  parte,  R.  Ezek. 

xlv,  13.    Etym.  a  f  verb  from  sesto. 
ASIMENTAR,  v.  Hacer  (simiente),  R.  Gen.  i, 

ii.     Translation  of  Hebrew    mazri'ha 

zer'ha. 
ASOLOMBRARSE,  v.  Ponerse  a  la  sombra,  R. 

Dan.  iv,  9.     Etym.     a+verb  from  solo- 

mbra,  q.  v. 

ASOPLAR,  v.   Soplar,  R.  Ex.  xv,  10. 
ASTUCIAR  (astucia),  v.   Serastuto,  R.  Sam.  i, 

xxiii,   22.    Translation  of  Hebrew  'ha- 

r6m  ya'hrim. 
ASUFRENCIA,   n.  Fuerza,  R.  Ezek.    xiv,    13. 

ASUFRIENCIA,  bordon,    R.  Ex.  xxi,  19. 

These  meanings  are  evolved  from  the 

different  meanings  of  asufrir,  q.  v.     In 

El  libro  de  Alexandre,  stanza  6  runs  as 

follows : 

Del  prin9«pe  Alexandre  que  fue  rey  de  Grejia, 
Que  fue  franc  e  ardit  e  de  grant  saben^ia, 
Ven9ij  Poro  e  D.irio  dos  reys  de  grant  potenyia, 
Nunca  connos^io  omne  su  par  en  la  sufrenf  ia. 

In  the  glossary  sufren?ia  is  translated 
by  sufrimiento  which  makes  no  sense  ; 
it  ought  to  befuerza,  namely  :  '  No  man 
ever  knew  his  equal  in  power.' 

ASUFRIR,  v.  Sustentar,  R.  Gen.  xviii,  5. — la 
mano,  poner  la  mano,  R.  Ex.  xxix,  10. 
— el  cora^on,  confortar,  R.  Jud.  xix, 
5.  (Detenir),  R.  Prov.  v,  22.  Pent,  ge- 
hangen,  which  indicates  that  it  means 
'  lifted  up  '  in  the  last  case.  All  these 
meanings  are  easily  evolved  out  of  the 
one  given  in  Sal.  for  sufrir  sostener,  re- 
sistir  y  llevar  algun  peso. 

ASUFRIRSE,  v.  Recostarse  R.  Gen.  xviii,  4. 
Estribarse,  R.  Prov.  iii,  5.  Pent,  sich 
verlassen.  The  evolution  of  meaning 
from  that  of  asufrir  is  natural. 

ATADERO,  n.  Trapo,  R.  Gen.  xlii,  25. 


ATAMARAL,  n.  Palma,  R.  Lev.  xxiii,  40.  Etym. 

a+tamaral,  q.  v. 
ATAMIENTO,  n.   Coyunda,  R.   Psalms   ii,  3. 

Acad. — ant.  atadura. 
ATARDEAR,  v.   El  dia  declina,  R.  Jud.  xix,  9. 

Etym.  a+verb  from  tarde. 
ATEMAR,    v.    Acabar,   R.   Gen.   ii,  i.     From 

Arabic    'hatama    'finished,'   but    Dozy 

gives    tama    for  tamar  with  the  same 

meaning;  I  prefer  the  first,  since  tamar 

does  not  occur  in  the  Bible,  and  even 

the  noun  preserves  the  a. 
ATEMO,  n.  Fin,  R.  Zach.  ix,  10.     See  atemar. 
ATENDEAR,  v.  Poner  tiendas,  R.  Gen.  xiii,  12, 

Cf.  Acad.   atendar,   ant.    acampar,   ar- 

mando  las  tiendas  de  campana. 
ATERCEADO,  adj.  De  tres  anos,  R.  xv,  9.    See 

atercear. 
ATERCEAMIENTO,   n.  Desde  &  tres  meses,  R. 

Gen.  xxxviii,  24.     En — ,  de  tres  en  tres, 

R.  Ezek.  xlii,  3,     Formed  from  atercear. 
ATERCEAR,  v.  Estar  tres  dias,  R.  Sam.   i,  xx, 

19.     ATERCIAR,  partir  en  tres  partes,  R. 

Deut.  xix,  3.     Cf.  Acad.  terciar. 
ATERMINAMIETNO,  n.     Ending,  Ex.  xxviii,  22. 

See  aterminar. 
ATERMINAR,  v.    Senalar  termino,  R.  Ex.  xix, 

12.     'Place  in  the  end,'  Ex.  xxviii,  14. 
ATORCEDOR,  adj.  Contumaz,  R.  Deut.  xxi,  18. 

Adversario,  R.  Num.  xxii,   22.     Satan, 

R.  Zach.  iii,  3.     From  atorcer,  q.  v. 
ATORCER,  v.     Hacer  tuerto,  R.  Ex.  xxiii,  2. 
ATORCIMIENTO,  n.  Perversidad  R.  Is.  xix,  14. 

See  atorcer. 
ATREBEJAR,  v.  Jugar,  R.  Jud.   xvi,    25.      Cf. 

Acad.  trebejar  ant.  travesear,  enredar, 

juguetear.     Cf.   Trebejar. 
ATRISTARSE,   v.   Pesar,   R.   Gen.   vi,   6.     Cf. 

Acad. — ant.  entristecerse. 
ATRONAR,   v.   Tronar,   R.   Psalms,   xviii,    13. 

Acad. — ant. — 
ATUENDO,  n.  Vaso,  R.  Gen.  xiv,  53.     Acad.— 

aparato,   ostentaci6n.     In  the    Bible  it 

always  means  '  vase.' 
ATURBAR,  v.  Turbar,  R.  Job.  xxii,  10. 
AUBLACION,  n.  Jubilacion,  R.  Lev.  xxiii,  24. 

From  aublar,  q.  v. 
AUBLAR,  v.  Jubilar,  R.  Psalms  Ixvi,  i.     Etym. 

a-\-jubilar. 
AUNAR,  v.  Echar  ufias,  R.  Psalms,  Ixix,  31. 

Translation  of  Hebrew  maphrim. 


20 


January,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


AVANTAJADO,  adj.  Mas  excelente,  R.  Is.  Ivi, 

12.     Cf.  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii  avantaja.     Part- 

of  a  verb  avantajar. 
AVERANAR,  v.  Tener  el  verano  R.  Is.  xviii,  6. 

Pagn.  aestivare. 
AVICIARSE,  v.  Engordarse,  R.  xiii,  4.     Delei- 

tarse  R.  Is.  Iviii,  14.     Ser  maligno,  R. 

Deut.  xxviii,  56.     For  the  latter  meaning 

Cf.  Acad. — ant.  enviciarse;  for  the  other 

meanings  see  vicio. 
AVIGAMIENTO,  n.  Techumbre,  R.  Kings  i,  vi, 

15.     From  avigar,  q.  v. 
AVIGAR,  v.  Cubrir  de  tijeras,  R.  Kings  i,  vi, 

9.     Etym.  a+verb  from  viga. 
AYUNTADERA,    n.    Juntura,    R.   Ex.   xxvi,  4. 

From  ayuntar,  q.  v. 
AYUNTAR,  v.  Juntar,  R.  Ex.  xxvi,  3:  Acad. — 

ant. — 

B. 

BALDADURA,  n.  Lo  que  holg6,  R.  Ex.  xxi,  19. 
'Loss  of  time.'  Cf.  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii,  bal- 
dero,  ocioso  and  baldado  gastado  en 
balde. 

BALDAR,  v.  (Hacer  que  no  haya),  R.  Ex.  xii, 
15.  'Be  without.' 

BANQUETEAR,  v.  Hacer  banquete  R.  Job.  xl. 
25.  Sal. — ant.  dar  banquetes. 

BARAJA,  n.  Contienda,  R.  Gen.  xiii,  7.  Esp. 
Bibl.  Ivii,  Acad. — ant.— 

BARRACAN,  adj.  Valiente,  R.  Gen.  vi,  4. 
Acad. — ant. — 

BARRAGANIA,  n.  Mastery.  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii — 
fortaleza,  valor. 

BARVEZ,  n.  Carnero,  R.  Gen.  xv,  9.  Etym. 
Lat.  berbicem. 

BASTAJE,  n.  Los  que  Jlevan,  R.  Neh.  iv.  10. 
Acad.— Ganapan.  Here  it  preserves 
the  original  meaning,  as  its  etymology 
from  Greek  fta6id^oa  indicates. 

BATEDERO,  n.  Bate,  R.  Ex.  xii,  7.    Post. 

BATEHA,  n.  Melon,  R.  Num.  xi,  5.  Transla- 
tion of  Hebrew  ha'abhatti'hlm,  but  evi- 
dently—Arab, bitti'hun,  "vulgarly  and 
incorrectly  pronounced  batti'hun",Lane; 
it  has  the  same  meaning. 

BATIDIZO,  n.  De  martillo,  R.  Ex.  xxxvii,  7. 
Beaten  work.  BATIDO,  de  martillo,  R. 
Ex.  xxv,  18.  From  batir. 

BAUEAR,  v.  Distillar,  R.  Lev.  xv,  3. 

BAXEZA,  n.  Lo  bajo,  R.  Ex.  xix,  17.  Acad.— 
ant.  lugar  bajo  y  hondo. 


BAXURA,  n.  Campo,  R.  Kings  i,  ix,  27.  Acad. 
— lugar  6  sitio  bajo. 

BESTIAME,  n.  Bestias,  R.  Num.  xx,  8.  Acad. 
— ant.  bestiaje. 

BTENAVENTURAR,  v.  Gobernar,  R.  Is.  ix,  16. 
Pent,  die  das  dasige  Volk  billigsoellten 
in  den  rechten  Weg  treten.  Cf.  Acad. 
— ant.  hacer  bienaventurado  a  uno. 

BLANDIMIENTO,  n.  Blandeamiento,  R.  Job. 
xii,  20.  Pent.  Sturmen.  It  means  here 
'brandishing,'  from  blandear,  moverse 
de  una  parte  &  otra. 

BOCHORNARSE,  v.  Secarse,  R.  Is.  xxxvii,  27, 
From  bochorno,  aire<:aliente,  Acad. 

BOLTAR,  v.  Bolver,  R.  Chron.  2,  vi,  3.  If  not 
a  misprint,  this  aita$  eipijuivov  must 
be  Lat.  volutare,. 

BONIGA,  n.  Estiercol  (of  man),  R.  Ezek.  iv, 
12.  BONIGNA,  estiercol,  R.  Zeph.  i,  17. 
Acad.  gives  boiiiga,  excremento  del 
ganado  vacuno  y  de  otros  animales,  and 
for  its  etymology,  Lat.  bovinica.  But  it 
seems  more  natural  to  refer  it  to  the 
same  stem  as  Prov.  boulega,  bulinga,  re- 
muer,  bouger,  mouvoir,  emouvoir,  agi- 
ter  (Mistral) ;  cf.  also  in  Godfrey  bou- 
nenc,  estomac. 

BROSLADOR,  n.  Artificer,  Ex.  xxvi,  31.  Acad. 
— ant.  bordador. 

BROSLADURA,  n.  Bordada,  R.  Jud.  v.  30. 
Acad. — ant.  bordadura. 

BROSLAR,  v.  Bordar,  R.  Ex.  xxviii,  39.  Acad. 
— ant.  bordar.  For  Etym.  see  Cuervo, 
b  or  dar. 

BROTADURA,  n.  Botones,  R.  Kings,  i,  vi,  18. 

BUEYTRE,  n.  Buitre,  R.  Lev.  xi,  14.  Probably 
a  popular  etymology  connecting  it  with 
buey. 

BUFANO,  n.  Bufalo,  R.  Deut.  xiv,  5.  Acad. 
— ant.  bufalo. 

BUSQAMIENTO,  n.  Freno,  R.  Psalms,  xxxix,  2. 
In  El  Salterio  traduzido  del  Hebreo  en 
Romance  Castellano  por  Juan  de  Va1de"s, 
Bonn,  1880  (edited  by  Ed.  Boehmer)  the 
corresponding  word  is  bo(al,  hence  it  is 
=bo2al  with  the  same  -meaning. 

LEO.  WIENER. 

Boston,  M<iss. 


2-1 


43 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


44 


MEXICAN  VERSIONS  OF  THE 
"BRER  RABBIT"  STORIES. 

THE  following  stories  form  part  of  a  collection 
of  folk-tales  made  during  a  summer  spent  in 
the  City  of  Mexico.  They  were  taken  down 
word  for  word  from  the  mouths  of  Indians  (of 
more  or  less  mixed  blood),  who,  however, 
spoke  the  language  of  the  country.  The  fact 
that  these  stories  were  dictated,  will  account 
for  the  condensed  form  of  narration  in  the 
specimens  here  given,  for  the  writer  has 
deemed  it  expedient  to  transmit  them  as  re- 
ceived, not  even  correcting  the  most  obvious 
syntactical  errors. 

The  two  features  which  render  the  Mexican 
stories  of  especial  interest  to  students  of 
American  folk-lore  are,  in  the  first  place,  that 
it  is  the  rabbit  who  deceives  the  other  animal 
(the  coyote);  in  the  second  place,  that  the 
means  employed  in  accomplishing  this  decep- 
tion, corresponds  to  those  used  by  the  rabbit  in 
the  negro  stories  of  the  South.  I  am  unable  to 
say  to  what  extent  these  stories  are  current  in 
Mexico,  but  the  four  specimens  which  follow 
are  known  in  Puebla,  Mexico  City  and  Gua- 
najuato. 

I.  Est'era  un  Coyote  y  un  Conejo.  Andaba 
el  Conejo  buscando  que  comer  en  el  campo. 
Lo  vi6  el  Coyote  y  le  dijo  que  se  lo  iba  comer, 
y  el  Conejo  le  suplic6  que  no,  que  le  prome- 
teria  trairle  una  gayina  pa  que  se  la  comiera. 
Y  el  (el  coyote)  le  dijo  que  se  la  juera  trair, 
que  lo  esperaba  ayf.  Se  jue"  el  Conejo  y  no 
iso  a  presio  £  yevarle  la  gayina. 

Luego  qu'el  Coyote  se  fastidi6  d'estar  es- 
perando  el  Conejo,  se  ju6  a  buscarlo  y  lo 
mcontr<5  y  le  dijo:  "Ora  si  te  como  porque 
m'enganaste."  Y  le  dijo  61 :  "No  t'engane'  si 
no  me  dijeron  que  tuviera  esta  pena,  porque  si 
la  soltaba  si  acabarfa  el  mundo.  Tenla  til, 
mientras  que  yo  voy  &  trairle  que  comas."  El 
Coyote  se  qued6  teniendo  la  pena.  Luego 
que  ya  cans6  d'estar  tenie"ndola,  dijo :  "  Yo  la 
voy  a  soltar ;  no  me  importa  que  si  acabe  el 
mundo."  Se  ju6  a  buscar  al  Conejo. 

The  deception  practiced  on  the  Coyote  is 
brought  out  more  clearly  in  the  following  ex- 
planatory passage,  which  occurs  in  another 
version  of  the  same  story:  "Y  como  ese  tiempo 
estaban  pasando  las  nubes  en  el  aire,  pensaba 
(el  coyote)  que  venia  la  pena  ensima,  pero 
como  no  er'asi,  el  Conejito  le  disc  al  Coyote : 
"Atranca  uste1  juerte,  mientras  voy  a  trair  el 
desayuno."  Se  qued6  el  Coyote  atracado  en 


la  pefia." 

It  is  strange  that  folk-lore  has  not  made  more 
frequent  use  of  the  startling  effect  produced 
by  clouds  passing  over  a  tall  rock  or  tree. 
There  may,  however,  be  a  suggestion  of  it  in 
the  Kaffir  tale  of  the  Leopardess  who  runs 
under  a  large  rock  and  cries  out  to  her  pursuer 
"Do you  not  see  the  rock  falling."1  In  "Daddy 
Jack's "  story,  the  rabbit  fleeing  from  the 
wolf,  becomes  so  tired  that  he  runs  under  a 
leaning  tree  and  calls  to  the  wolf  to  hold  it 
while  he  (the  rabbit)  props  it  up.  Here  the 
use  of  a  leaning  tree  makes  it  evident  that  the 
phenomenon  of  passing  clouds  had  no  part  in 
the  deception.  There  is  in  Mexico  a  saying 
more  or  less  common,  which  is  used  in  regard 
to  a  person  who  has  been  badly  fooled  :  "Tu 
quedas  como  el  coyote  atracando  la  pena." 

II.  El  mezmo  Conejo  estaba  ensima  di  un 
nopal   y    lo    incontr6  el    Coyote.      Le  disc : 
"  Amigo,  qu'estas  asiendo?" — "Tio,   disc  el 
Conejito,    aqui  comiendo    tunas" — "Ora    te 
tengo    ganas    de    comerte " — "Pero    porque" 
Tio?" — "Porque    me    dejaste    atracando    la 
pena." — "Ay!   Tio,  no  soy  yo;   somos  siete 
ermanos,   uno  d'eyos  abra    sido,    yo  no." — 
"  Pero,  si,  te  tengo  ganas  de  comerte  " — "  No 
Tio,  voy  a  darle  a  ust6  una  tuna.     Sierra  uste" 
los  ojos  y  abre  la  boca."  Entonses  se  pone  el 
Coyote  con  la  boca  abierta  y  el  Conejito  li 
avienta  un  puno  d'espinas  y  corre. 

A  variant  of  this  story  omits  the  point  that 
there  are  seven  brothers,  and  that  it  must  have 
been  one  of  the  other  six  who  played  the 
former  trick  on  the  Coyote. 

III.  Estaba  el  Conejito  sentado  debajo  di 
un  arbol  tejiendo  una  rede,  cuando  yeg6  el 
Coyote.    El   Coyote  le  disc:  "•  Amigo,   pide 
perdon,  porque  tengo  ambre ;    quero  comer 
carne."   El  Conejo    le  dise :    "Ay!    Tio,    es 
vigilia,  la  carne  flaca  no  engordai."  El  Coyote 
dise:    "Tu  ti  as  burlado  de  mi." — Tio,  no 
1'echo  nada ;   scran  mis  ermanos,  que   no   si 
acuerda    ust6   que    somos    siete   ermanos?" 
Quen  sabe  quen   d'eyos   hiso    ast6    el    mal ! 
Venga  uste\  vamos  d  tejeY  esta  rede  y  acl  nos 
metemos  porque  oy  va  venir  un  deluvio  y  una 
granisada  de  piedras  "  "Si,  dise  el  Coyote,  te 
voy  ayudar." 

Empesarpn  &  tejeY  la  rede.  En  canto  si 
acab6,  le  dijo  el  Conejo  al  Coyote  :  "Tio,  suba 
uste"  al  arbol  y  yo  le  dare1  aste'  la  lia  y  amarra 
ust6  bien  a  la  rama,  mientras  yo  amarro  aca  a 
la  rede."  Se  subi6  el  Coyote  al  arbol  y  el 
Conejo  qued6  abajo.  Entonses  el  Conejo  le 

i   Uncle  Remus,  p.  xvii. 


45 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


46 


disc:  "Tio,  baja  uste"  y  me'tase  &  la  rede  porque 
va  empesar  &  cdir  granisada." 

Se  baja  el  Coyote  y  se  mete  &  la  rede  y  el 
Coyote  jala  el  mecate  y  si  apret6  muy  bien  la 
rede  donde  el  Coyote  s'enserrd  ;  y  empeisa  el 
Coneja  a  echarle  piedras.  Entonses  el  Coyote 
empiesa  gritar  "Ay!  Ay!  me  muero.!  "  El 
Conejo  disc:  "  muerase  uste",  ora  es  vigilia, 
coma  uste  carne  asta  donde  se  yena.  Y 
echandole  mas  piedras  asta  que  se  priv6  el 
Coyote,  y  corrio  el  conejo. 

In  a  variant  of  this  story  the  Rabbit  calls 
Mr.  Man  and  gets  him  to  make  two  bags.  He 
then  puts  the  Coyote  in  one  of  them,  hangs 
him  up  the  tree  and  gets  the  man  to  beat  him. 
By  using  this  variant,  there  is  a  more  striking 
resemblance  to  Uncle  Remus'  story  in  which 
Mr.  Man  catches  Brer  Rabbit  and  hangs  him 
up  the  tree  to  await  punishment.  The  Rabbit 
however,  gets  out  by  pursuadingthe  Opossum 
to  get  in  and  hear  angels  sing.  The  man  of 
course  returns  and  beats  the  Opossum. 

IV.  El  Conejo  estaba  en  un  carrisal.  Yega 
el  Coyote  y  le  disc:  "Sobrino,  qu'estas  asiendo 
aqui." — "  Ah,  Tio,  oy  es  un  dia  de  fandango; 
se  cas6  mi  ermano  el  mayor  y  ay  nesesida  de 
formar  un  baile,  y  quero  tambien  disponer  di 
un  mtisica.  Quere  uste"  acompaflarme  a  com- 
poner  un  violin  ?  Ust£  tiene  buen  pecho  pa 
cantar;  uste"  con  el  violin  con  la  vos  alta  y  yo 
con  el  violin  bajo,  y  acemos  un  armonfa." 

Agarra  el  Coyote  dps  carrisos  y  ase  una 
flan ta  y  el  Conejito  le  disc:  "Aguardame  uste", 
voy  alcansar  a  los  novios  y  asi  que  oiga  uste", 
esta  que  mando  cuetes,  empiesa  uste  a  tocar 
la  flauta."  Se  va  el  Conejito  y  coje  un  pedaso 
de  pajuela  y  prende  en  la  lumbre  y  empiesa  a 
quemar  el  carrisal.  Trena  los  carrisos  y  em- 
pieza  el  Coyote  a  tocar  un  armonfa  de  Petenera, 
bailando.  Cuando  se  li  aserc6  la  lumbre  todo 
alrededor,  entonses  quiso  salir,  y  tiro  la  flauta, 
se  metio  al  juego  y  salio  chamuscado,  y  el 
conjo  corri<5. 

This  idea  of  surrounding  an  unsuspecting 
enemy  by  fire,  occurs  in  two  of  Uncle  Remus' 
stories.  In  the  first  it  is  the  Terrapin  who  is 
fooled  by  the  Fox,  and  in  the  second  entitled 
"why  the  Aligator's  back  is  rough,"  the  Ali- 
gator  is  fooled  by  the  Rabbit.  The  Mexican 
version  adds  a  new  element,  in  that  the  Coyote 
does  not  suspect  trouble  when  he  first  hears 
the  crackling  of  the  flames,  for  the  Rabbit  had 
led  him  to  believe  that  it  was  fire-works 
(cuetes)  in  honor  of  the  wedding. 

The  four  cuentos  related  above  will  serve  to 
illustrate  the  general  character  of  the  Mexican 
Rabbit-stories.  Doubtless  many  more  exist, 


and  my  own  collection  numbers  eleven  in- 
cluding variants.  In  addition  to  these  there 
are  many  stories  in  which  the  rabbit  does  not 
figure,  but  which  bear  a  marked  resemblance 
to  some  of  the  other  Remus-tales. 

It  is  worthy  of  note  that  the  four  stories 
here  given  were  also  related  to  me  by  an  old 
inhabitant  of  Guanajuato  who  substituted  the 
fox  (Zorra)  for  the  rabbit. 

As  to  the  origin  of  these  stories,  nothing 
definite  can  be  said.  They  may  be  indigenous, 
they  may  be  borrowed  from  the  negroes  of 
Texas  and  other  Southern  States,  they  may 
represent  folk-lore  of  the  West  Indies,  or  they 
may  be  popular  versions  of  the  European 
collections  which  were  introduced  by  the 
Spaniards.  But  whichever  of  these  theories 
be  the  true  one,  it  is  evident  that  no  definite 
origin  can  be  assigned' to  the  negro  stories  of 
the  South,  until  there  has  been  a  careful  col- 
lection and  study  of  the  Mexican  versions. 
In  the  meantime  I  offer  the  present  article  as 
a  small  contribution  to  the  existing  folk-lore 
material. 

C.  C.  MARDEN. 

Johns  Hopkins  University. 


AN  EARLY"   GERMAN  EDITION  OF 
&SOFS  FABLES. 

AMONG  the  more  valuable  books  of  the  large 
collection  bequeathed  to  the  Johns  Hopkins- 
University  by  the  late  John  VV.  McCoy,  is 
an  edition  of  sEsop's  Fables  translated  into 
German  by  the  celebrated  Dr.  Hainricus  Stain- 
howel.  The  editio princeps  of  this  collection 
of  fabels  appears  to  be  that  printed  at  Ulm  by 
Johannes  Zeiner  about  the  year  1475,  a  folio 
volume  of  288  leaves, containing  both  the  Latin 
text  and  Stainhowel's  German  translation. 
This  work  was  frequently  reprinted  during  the 
fifteenth  century  and  the  edition  here  described 
is  undoubtedly  a  reprint  of  the  German  text 
alone,  a  policy  first  instituted,  it  seems,  by 
Guentherus  Zainer  in  his  folio  edition  of  167 
leaves,  printed  probably  at  Augsburg  about 
1480.  There  were  also  other  editions  of  the 
same  German  text  by  various  printers,  and 
hence  the  most  that  can  be  claimed  for  the 
present  one  is  that  it  is  the  oldest  edition  whose 
date  is  certain. 


47 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


48 


M.  Leopold  Hervieux  states1  that  he  has 
seen  but  two  copies  of  this  edition,  one  of 
which  is  in  the  private  library  of  the  King  of 
Wiirtemberg  at  Stuttgart,  and  the  other  in  the 
public  library  of  Linz  (Austria)  where  it  is 
numbered  D.  iv.  9.  According  to  his  descrip- 
tion, the  book  is  a  folio  of  169  leaves  of  which 
the  Life  of  ^Esop  and  the  text  of  the  fables 
occupy  the  first  154  leaves,  while  the  remainder 
contain  a  work  entitled  Historia  Sigismunde. 
The  McCoy  copy  is  unfortunately  not  entire- 
ly complete,  though  the  lacunae  are  of  no 
great  extent.  The  first  thirty-four  leaves  con- 
tain the  Life  of  ^Esop  already  mentioned  and 
are  preceded  by  a  full-page  portrait  headed 
Esopus.  This  portion  appears  to  be  complete, 
except  for  the  fact  that  the  portrait  in  question, 
as  well  as  the  first  five  leaves  of  the  text,  has 
suffered  a  partial  loss  in  its  lower  corner,  ap- 
parently due  to  the  depredations  of  rodents. 
There  then  follow  120  numbered  leaves  con- 
taining the  text  of  the  fables,  but  of  this  se- 
ries the  fifth  and  sixth  leaves  are  missing. 
Finally  there  comes  a  series  of  only  eight  ad- 
ditional unnumbered  leaves  containing  a  table 
of  contents,  a  portion  of  the  Historia  Sigis- 
munde  and  the  printer's  colophon.  The  next 
to  last  leaf  breaks  off  abruptly  thus: 
sy  inwendigen  allein  dye  thiir  auf  vnnd  nam 

alldo— 

At  the  top  of  the  recto  of  the  last  leaf  there 
occurs  a  colophon  worded  thus  : 

Esopus  der  hochberiimbt  fabeltichter — mit 
etlichen  zuogelegten  fabeln  Rimicy  vund 
Auiani — vnd  d'  histori  sigismunde  der  toh- 
ter  des  fiirsten  Tancredi  vnd  des  iiinglin 
ges  Gwisgardi  enndet  sich  hie — Gedruckt 
vnd  vollendet  in  der  hochwirdigen  vnnd 
keiserlichen  stat  Augspurg — von  Antho- 
nio  Sorg  am  montag  nach  Agathe  Da 
man  zalt  nach  Cristi  geburt — M — CCCC 
vnd  in  dem— LXXXIII— lar— 
The  remainder  of  the  leaf  is  blank,  and  on 
its  verso  there  is  written  in  pale  black  ink  the 
name  Johannes  Schauffhaiiser,  probably  one 
of  the  early  owners  of  this  copy. 

The  present  size  of  the  leaves  is  about  seven 
inches  by  ten,  the  type  used  is  the  Gothic, 

i  Les  Fabulistes  Latins,  vol.  i,  pp.  357-358;  2d  ed.,  pp. 
394-395.  See  also  Brunei,  Manuel  du  Libraire,  5th  ed., 
vol.  i,  col.  101. 


and  the  whole  work  is  adorned  by  numerous 
rudely  executed  wood-cuts.  The  normal 
number  of  lines  on  full  pages  appears  to  be 
36,  although  some  have  only  35  ;  it  is  also  to 
be  noted  that  the  following  leaves  are  wrongly 
numbered  :  leaf  xii  is  given  as  xiii ;  leaf  liiii 
has  no  number ;  leaf  Ivi  is  given  as  li ;  leaf 
xci  is  given  as  ci ;  and  leaf  cxv  is  given  as  cv. 

A  note  in  pale  black  ink  on  the  upper  mar- 
gin of  leaf  xvi  gives  evidence  of  trimming  by 
the  binder,  who  appears  to  have  greatly  re- 
duced what  was  originally  a  wide  margin. 
The  verso  of  this  same  leaf  has  had  an  extra 
illustration  pasted  over  the  one  originally 
printed  in  the  text,  and  as  the  superimposed 
wood-cut  suits  the  accompanying  text  yet  ap- 
pears to  be  wholly  different  from  the  one  be- 
neath, though  in  the  same  style  as  the  remain- 
ing illustrations,  we  may  suppose  that  the 
printer  erroneously  inserted  an  irrelevant 
wood-cut  in  his  text  at  this  point,  and  dis- 
covering this  fact  after  the  leaf  was  printed 
struck  off  special  copies  of  the'proper  illustra- 
tion .and  thus  corrected  his  original  error  as 
well  as  he  could.  It  would  be  of  interest  to 
note  whether  the  same  thing  was  done  in  the 
case  of  the  other  two  copies  mentioned  above. 

Many  of  the  illustrations  have  been  touched 
up  with  either  black  or  red  ink,  and  various 
marginal  notes  and  other  marks  are  to  be 
found  which  are  evidently  due  to  some  one  or 
more  of  the  early  possessors  of  this  rare  old 
book. 

A  point  worthy  of  note,  and  one  which 
would  probably  suffice  easily  to.  identify  all 
the  extant  copies  of  this  edition,  is  that  in  cer- 
tain cases  a  blank  space  has  been  left  in  the 
body  of  the  text  which  should  ha.ve  been 
filled  out  by  some  word  not  inserted  by  the 
printer.  Thus  among  the  unnumbered  leaves 
at  the  beginning  of  the  book  there  is  a  blank 
space  in  the  last  line  of  the  verso  of  the 
twenty-first  leaf,  and  on  the  recto  of  the 
second  numbered  leaf  there  are  three  such 
spaces,  the  first  of  which  has  been  filled  in 
with  a  pen,  the  second  crossed  out,  and  the 
third  left  blank.  These  are  the  only  cases  of 
blank  spaces  which  I  have  been  able  to  find, 
and  they  constitute  perhaps  the  most  curious 
feature  in  the  whole  book. 

GEORGE  C.  KEIDEL. 
Johns  Hopkins  University. 


49         '    January,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.   r. 


FOLK-TALES. 
Louisiana  Folk-  Tales  in  French  Dialect  and 
English  Translation,  collected  and  edited 
by  Alce"e  Fortier,  Professor  of  Romance 
Languages  in  Tulane  University,  Louisiana. 
Vol.  ii  of  the  Memoirs  of  the  American 
Folk-Lore  Society.  Boston  and  N«w  York  : 
Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Co.,  1895.  Cloth, 
large  8vo,  xii,  122  pp. 

THE  pioneer  among  the  collectors  and  editors 
of  negro  folk-lore  in  this  country  has  been 
unquestionably  Joel  Chandler  Harris,  whose 
justly  celebrated  Uncle  Remus  has  become  a 
household  book,  and  whose  Nights  with  Uncle 
Remus  and  Uncle  Remus  and  His  Friends 
have  found  thousands  of  appreciative  readers. 
His  attitude  towards  comparative  folk-lore  is, 
however,  very  curious :  in  his  first  two  books 
he  shows  much  interest  in  this  field  of  investi- 
gation, but  in  his  third  book  he  changes  his 
attitude  towards  this  question  and  ridicules 
his  own  former  views,  professing  '  utter  ignor- 
ance '  on  the  subject  '  without  a  pang.'  Per- 
haps this  sudden  indifference  to  the  scientific 
aspect  of  his  work  may  account  for  the  fact 
that  the  contents  of  a  Japanese  leaflet  have 
found  a  place  in  Uncle  Remus  and  His 
Friends. 

While  Mr.  Harris'  collections  present  a 
really  excellent  picture  of  the  old  plantation 
life  of  the  South,  especially  the  one  just  men- 
tioned, they  should  not  be  used  by  the  student 
of  folk-lore  without  the  exercise  of  due  caution. 
Thoroughly  reliable  material  of  a  similar  sort 
is,  however,  offered  by  the  following  works : 
Hon.  Charles  C.  Jones,  Jr.'s  Negro  Myths ; 
Mrs.  A.  M.  H.  Christensen's  Afro-American 
Folk- Lore ;  and  Prof.  Charles  L.  Edwards' 
Bahama  Songs  and  Stories.*  A  most  valuable 
addition  to  this  latter  class  is  the  present 
volume  by  Prof.  Fortier. 

Having  long  been  among  the  leading  mem- 
bers of  both  the  Modern  Language  Associ- 
ation of  America  and  the  American  Folk- 
Lore  Society,  Prof.  Fortier  needs  no  introduc- 
tion to  the  readers  of  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES  ; 
for  many  years  he  has  been  engaged  in  the 
study  of  his  native  state,  and  his  Louisiana 
Studies :  Literature,  Customs  and  Dialects, 

i  Vol.  iii,  of  the  Memoirs  of  t/u'  American  Folk-Lore 
Society. 


History  and  Education  were  noticed  in  this 
journal  as  recently  as  the  June  number  of 
1894.  He,  therefore,  was  particularly  well 
qualified  to  collect  and  edit  the  negro  tales  of 
Louisiana,  and  we  may  congratulate  ourselves 
that  he  has  refrained  from  giving  them  any 
embellishment,  or  setting,  as  by  so  doing  he 
would  have  been  apt  to  impair  their  absolute 
fidelity  for  the  sake  of  enhancing  their  interest 
for  the  general  reader.  We  find  with  pleasure 
that  even  the  name  of  the  informant  is  given 
in  every  case. 

Prof.  Fortier's  book  consists  of  a  short  In- 
troduction, followed  by  twenty-seven  hitherto 
unpublished  stories  given  in  the  Creole  dialect 
of  Louisiana,  with  an  English  translation  on 
the  opposite  page ;  these  are  in  turn  followed 
by  a  few  Notes,  and  an  Appendix  containing 
fourteen  additional  tales  which  had  been  pre- 
viously published  by  the  author  and  which 
are  given  in  English  translation  only.  Some 
general  remarks  on  the  Louisiana  Creole 
dialect  and  also  on  the  tales  themselves,  oc- 
cupy the  space  allotted  to  the  Introduction, 
whilst  for  a  more  detailed  account  of  the 
former  the  reader  is  referred  to  the  Louisiana 
Stttdies.  In  this  connection  attention  may  be 
called  for  purposes  of  comparison  to  the  Creole 
studies  of  R.  de  Poyen-Bellisle,*  whose  phi- 
lological treatment  of  the  dialect  under  inves- 
tigation is  followed  by  a  few  dialect  texts 
among  which  we  find  given  an  animal  tale. 

Prof.  Fortier's  new  stories  comprise  both 
animal  tales  and  miirchen,  but  it  is  to  be  noted 
'  that  the  second  and  fifth  stories  <lo  not  prop- 
erly belong  to  the  first  category,  if  we  may 
define  an  animal  tale  to  be  a  story  in  which 
either  all  the  actors,  or  at  least  the  principal 
one,  are  animals.  Jean  Malin  is  the  principal 
character  of  the  second  story,  whilst  Compair 
Taureau  is  merely  a  kind  of  werwolf;  in 
the  fifth,  the  Irishman  who  is  too  drunk  to 
understand  the  frogs  is  practically  the  sole 
actor.  On  the  other  hand,  the  author  was 
surely  right  in  excluding  the  eighteenth  from 
his  animal  tales,  although  Mozarovskijs  has 
embodied  a  similar  story  in  his  animal  epic 

2  Les  Sons  et  Its  Formes  du   Creole  dans  les  Antilles. 
Baltimore:  John  Murphy  and  Co.,  1894. 

3  Transactions  of  the  Modern  Language  Association  of 
America,  Vol.  vi,  Part  2,  pp.  95  and  f. 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


entitled  Lisa  Patrikjevna.  It  may  be  noted 
that  Prof.  Fortier  has  taken  the  term  mcirchen 
in  its  most  comprehensive  sense,  and  that  a 
few  of  those  given  resemble  in  their  general 
character  the  Old-French  fabliaux. 

The  Notes  are  few  but  judicious  ;  extensive 
comparisons  are  not  made  because  of  the  fact 
that  another  Memoir  of  the  Society  will  be 
especially  devoted  to  this  purpose.  Very 
happy  was  Prof.  Fortier's  discovery  that  the 
name  of  Compair  Bouki,  the  common  dupe  of 
Compair  Lapin,  signifies  hyena  in  the  Ouolof 
language  on  the  Senegal.  The  stories  found 
in  the  Appendix  have  been  reprinted  merely 
for  convenience'  sake:  the  first  ten  originally 
appeared  in  the  Transactions  before  men- 
tioned, Vol.  iii,  pp.  100  and  ff.;  the  last  four  in 
the  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  1888. 

Space  does  not  permit  me  to  dwell  at  any 
great  length  on  the  contents  of  the  stories 
themselves  :  the  first  tale  of  the  Elephant  and 
the  Whale  is  a  variant  of  the  twenty-sixth  in 
Uncle  Remus,  but  is  a  more  complete  form, 
as  is  proved  by  a  corresponding  Brazilian  tale; 
the  story  of  the  cask  of  butter  which  is  eaten 
while  its  owner  is  at  work  appears  both  in  the 
fourth  and  in  the  thirteenth  tales,  but  contrary 
to  the  ordinary  outcome  Compair  Lapin  does 
not  succeed  in  putting  the  blame  upon  some- 
one else;  very  singular  also  is  Compair  Lapin's 
stupidity  in  the  seventh,  where  he  beheads 
himself  because  he  thinks  that  Mr.  Turkey 
takes  off  his  head  when  he  goes  to  sleep  ;  the 
fifteenth  story  includes  a  great  many  incidents 
and  is  as  long  as  the  nine  preceding  tales  put 
together;  the  part  played  by  Jupiter  in  this 
story  and  that  of  the  Mephistophelian  devil  in 
the  third,  give  clear  evidence  of  influence  by 
white  population,  and  the  twenty-third  is  but 
a  variant  of  the  well-known  mcirchen  of  the 
Seven  Ravens  and  Their  Sister,  which  has 
been  so  beautifully  illustrated  in  the  water- 
color  drawings  of  Moritz  von  Schwind  now  in 
the  museum  of  Weimar.  In  connection  with 
the  Tar-Baby  story,  as  given  in  the  first  num- 
ber of  the  Appendix,  it  is  interesting  to  note 
that  in  the  Louisiana  Stories*  a  case  is  men- 
tioned in  which  a  negro  musician  beats  the 
hide  on  a  barrel  with  his  hands  and  feet,  and 

4  Pp.  126  and  f. 


sometimes,  when  quite  carried  away  with  en- 
thusiasm, even  with  his  head. 

A.  GERBER. 
Earlham  College. 


GOTHIC    GRAMMAR. 

+ 

Gotische  Grammatik  mit  einigen  Lesestiicken 
und  Wortverzeichnis,  von  WILHELM  BRAUNE 
Vierte  Auflage.  Halle :  Max  Niemeyer. 
1895- 

A  Gothic  Grammar  with  selections  for  read- 
ing and  a  glossary,  by  WILHELM  BRAUNE. 
Translated  (from  the  fourth  German  edition) 
and  edited  with  explanatory  notes,  complete 
citations,  derivations,  and  correspondences, 
by  GERHARD    H.   BALG.    Second    edition. 
Milwaukee,  Wis.:  the  Author.     New  York  : 
B.   Westermann    &  Co.;    London:    Kegan 
Paul,  Trench,  Truebner  &  Co. 
THE  new  edition  of  Braune's  Gothic  grammar 
is  a  very  welcome  book.    Although  the  eight 
years  that  have  passed  since  the  third  edition 
appeared   have   not  materially  changed   our 
knowledge  of  elementary  Gothic,  addenda  of 
value  to  the  philologist  have  become  suffi- 
ciently numerous  to  make  a  new  edition  de- 
sirable. 

Adhering  to  his  principle  followed  in  previ- 
ous editions,  Braune  has  not  introduced  any 
comparative  material  in  the  present  issue; 
the  references,  with  an  occasional  exception 
of  Brugmann's  Grundriss,  have  been  kept 
within  the  same  limits  as  in  the  previous  edi- 
tions. Aside  from  numerous  minor  details 
that  make  the  book  the  standard  grammar  of 
the  Gothic  language,  two  new  sections  have 
been  inserted  :  §88a,  on  nominal  composition, 
and  §224,  containing  a  bibliography  of 
Gothic  syntax.  As  might  be  expected  of 
such  a  careful  worker  as  Braune,  and  of  a 
grammar  that  has  stood  the  test  for  many 
years,  very  little  remains  to  be  said  by  the 
reviewer.  The  following  lines  are,  therefore, 
intended  mainly  to  call  attention  to  an  oc- 
casional misprint,  or  to  omissions  that  may 
have  been  intentional  on  the  part  of  the  au- 
thor: §12,  anm.  3,  read  funins  torfuninsl. — 
§17,  anm.  i,  Joh.  10,  16  instead  of  Joh.  16,  16. — 
§29,  anm.  4,  add  BB.  12,  211 ;  14,  160 ;  18,  407; 
Brugmann  ii,  139.— §52.  fimf,  hamfs  hardly 


26 


53 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  x,  No.  i. 


54 


CORRESPONDENCE. 


prove  the  bilabial  pronunciation  of  Gothic  f; 
these  words  are  assimilations  and  prove  noth- 
ing for  either  the  nasal  or  the  spirant.  Ulfila's 
spelling  may  have  been  partly  phonetic; 
greater  accuracy  would  have  required  an  af- 
fricate.— §56,  anm.  i.  gadob  occurs  four  times 
in  Skeireins,  which  gives  twenty-two  cases  of 
final  b. — §60  qrammipa  calls  for  a  note. — §62 
anm.  5,  read  :  s.  §583  2. — §  103  anm.  i,  read  : 
2  Cor.  u,  9,  instead  of  2  Cor.  n,  8.—  §  22ob, 
anm.  4.  As  the  reviews  of  important  works 
are  given  as  a  rule,  Wrede's  Sprache  der 
Wandalen  might  have  received  the  same  con- 
sideration. I  give  the  references  here :  Lt. 
Ctbl.  1887, 1009;  D.  Ltz.  1887,1548:  Ltbl.  1887,467;  | 
A.f.d.A.  14,  32:  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES  1888,  99; 
Germania  33,  122. — §22oa,  anm. 3  add:  Ltbl. 
1891,  no.  i  ;  D.  Ltz.  1891,  no.  12. — §224.  to  the 
list  of  monographs  on  Gothic  should  be  added 
Ribbeck,  Die  Syntax  des  Ulfila,  Hagen's 
Germania  i,  39 — sub  Klinghardt,  add  :  rec. 
Germ.  21,  28. — sub  Lucks,  add  :  Z.f.d.Ph.  9, 
383  ;  Germ.  23,  242. 

Dr.  Balg's  painstaking,  close  translation  ap- 
peared almost  at  the  same  time  with  the  Ger- 
man original ;  this  may  excuse  the  repetition 
of  most  of  the  misprints  pointed  out  before. 
To  the  above  list  we  may  here  add — §216, 
note  :  gaulaubjats,  for  galabjats,  which  oc- 
curs in  Matt.  9,  28,  not  Mark. — The  references 
to  Brugmann,  English  edition,  are  not  always 
correct. 

H.  SCHMIDT-WARTENBERG. 
University  of  Chicago. 


GOETHE  AND  MANTEGNA. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS: — In  vol.  i.  of  the  Harvard  Studies 
and  Notes  in  Philology  and  Literature, 
1892,  there  were  published  a  few  remarks  of  j 
mine  on  the  influence  exerted  by  Mantegna's 
Triumph  of  Caesar  on  the  Mummenschanz- 
scene  in  the  Second  Part  of  Faust.  While 
the  conclusions  of  this  article  have  been  ac- 
cepted by  W.  von  Biedermann,  Seuffert, 
Geiger,  and  others,  as  in  the  main  well 
founded,  Professor  Veil  Valentin  of  Frank- 


furt, in  vol.  moflhtjahresberichtefiirneuere 
deutsche  Litteraturgeschichte  (iv,  8a,  51)  pro- 
nounces my  whole  paper  as  altogether  fanciful 
and  unscientific*  Without  desiring  to  enter 
into  the  amenities  of  the  sort  of  polemics  in 
which  Professor  Valentin  seems  fit  to  indulge, 
I  wish  to  state  that  his  criticism  is  based  on  a 
complete  misrepresentation  of  my  remarks. 

Prof.  Valentin  represents  me  as  maintaining 
that  a  number  of  groups  in  the  Mummen- 
schanz  were  copied  horn  certain  groups  in  the 
Triumph  of  Caesar.  What  I  did  (and  do) 
maintain  was  that  in  a  number  of  groups  in 
the  Mummenschanz  there  are  traces  to  be 
found  of  certain  groups  .in  the  Triumph  of 
Caesar;  that  is,  that  Goethe's  imagination  was 
stimulated  by  Mantegna's  figures  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  produce  certain  other  figures 
which,  while  being  most  undoubtedly  Goethe's 
own,  at  the  same  time  bespeak  an  affinity  with 
Mantegna. 

As  a  most  conspicuous  proof  of  this  influence 
exerted  by  Mantegna  I  singled  out  the  de- 
scription of  the  elephant  in  the  Mummen- 
schanz : 

Ihr  seht  wie  sich  ein  Berg  herangedrj'ngt, 

Mil  bunten  Teppichen  die  Weichen  stolz  behiingt ; 

Ein  Haupt  mit  langen  Zuhnen,  Schlangenr":ssel, 

Geheimnisvoll,  doch  zeig'ich  euch  deu  Schllissel. 

Im  Nacken  sitzt  ihm  zierlich-zarte  Frau, 

Mit  feinem  Stabchen  lenkt  sie  ihn  genau — 

a  description  which  tallies  in  a  remarkable 
manner  with  the  appearance  of  the  elephant 
in  Mantegna's  Triumph,  with  his  long  serpen- 
tine trunk,  his  flanks  covered  with  richly 
ornamented  tapestry,  a  youth  riding  on  'his 
neck  and  guiding  him  with  a  slender  wooden 
hammer.  This  similarity  seems  to  have  es- 
caped Professor  Valentin  altogether,  as  he 
does  not  even  mention  it. 

I  supported  my  view  by  pointing  out  certain 
similarities  of  language  between  Goethe's  own 
description  of  Mantegna's  work  and  various 
passages  of  the  Mummenschanz.  Since  Pro- 
fessor Valentin  entirely  fails  to  take  into  ac- 
count this  consonance  between  Goethe  the 
interpreter  of  Mantegna  and  Goethe  the  poet 
of  the  Mummenschanz,  I  shall  place  here 
side  by  side  the  most  striking  of  the  passages 
in  question. 


27 


55 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


GOBTHB'S  DESCRIPTION  OF  MANTKGNA'S  Triumph. 
Zunachst  gegen  den  Zuschauer  geht  ein  Frdulchen  von  8 
bis  10  Jahren  an  der  Mutter  Seite,  so  sckmuck  und  zierlieh 
alo  bet  dem  anstandigsten  Fcstc. 


Misgestaltete  Narren  und  Possenreister  schleichen  sich 
heran  und  verhohnin  die  edlen  .  .  . 


Ein  wohlbeha flicker,  hubscher  Jiinglinf  in  langer,  fast 
tueiblicher  Kleidung  singt  zur  Leier  und  scheint  dabei  zu 
springen  und  tu  gestikulirtn. 


In  all  this,  as  I  said  before,  I  am  far  from 
seeing  identity ;  what  I  do  see  is  affinity  ;  and 
I  am  entirely  satisfied  with  the  statement  into 
which  G.  Witkowski,  strangely  enough  in  the 
same  volume  of  the  Jahresberichte  (iv  8e,  103), 
compresses  the  gist  of  my  article  :  "  Am  Mum- 
menschanz  zeigt  F.  Anlehnung  einzelner  Stel- 
len  an  den  von  Goethe  behandelten  'Triumph- 
zug  Julius  Caesars  '  von  Mantegna." 

KUNO  FRANCKE. 
Harvard  University. 


A  NO  TE  ON  THE  PUNCTUA  TION  OF 

L  YCIDAS. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES. 

SIRS  : — The  traditional  punctuation  of  the 
following  two  lines  in  Lycidas  has  always 
seemed  to  me  to  imply  a  total  misunderstand- 
ing of  the  poet's  obvious  meaning  : 

"Ay  me!  I  fondly  dream! 

Had  ye  been  there — for  what  could  that  have  done  ?  '* 

It  is  easy  to  see  that  the  editors  who  thus 
punctuate  these  two  lines  detect  no  syntactic 
relationship  between  them,  and  regard  the 
second  line  as  a  palmary  example  of  aposiope- 
sis.  Indeed,  Prof.  Gummere  (Handbook  of 
Poetics,  p.  125)  quotes  these  lines,  following 
the  traditional  punctuation,  and  classes  them 
with  Vergil's 

"Quos  ego — sed  motos  praestat  componere  fluctus,'' 

prefacing  his  quotations  with  these  words : 


GOBTHB'S  Mummenschanz. 
Mutter  und  Tackier. 

MUTTER ; 

Miidchen,  als  du  kamst  aus  Licht 
Schmiickt  ich  dich  im  Haubchen, 
Warst  so  lieblich  von  Gesicht 
Und  so  zart  am  Leibchen. 
Dachti  dich  sogltich  als  Braut 

Welches  Fes t  man  auch  ersann  .  .  . 

Zoilo-  Thersitet : 

Hu !  hu  !  da  komm'ich  eben  recht. 
Ich  schelf  euch  allzusiimmen  schlecht. 

Und  welch  ein  ziirliches  Gewand 
Fliesst  dir  von  Schultern  zu  den  Socken, 
Mit  Purpursaum  und  Glitzertand  ! 
Man  konnte  dich  tin  Mddchen  schelten. 

Bin  die  Verschwtndung,  bin  die  Poesie 
Beleb'und  schmiicK'ihm  Tanz  und  Schmaus. 


"Finally,  the  most  abrupt  contrast  arises 
when  the  construction  comes  suddenly  to  an 
end,  is  broken  off  violently,  and  a  new  sen- 
tence begins  in  a  new  direction." 

And  even  Prof.  Masson,  the  veteran  Miltonian, 
breaks  the  second  line  with  marks  of  ellipsis 
after  "there,"  implying  that  the  poet's  thought 
makes  a  sudden  and  violent  turn. 

Now,  I  cannot  believe,  from  the  context, 
that  Milton  intended  any  such  meaning  to 
attach  to  these  simple  words.  If  so,  he  would 
surely  have  used  "  but  "  instead  of  "  for,"  the 
former  being  the  almost  preempted  word  in 
such  constructions.  The  true  meaning  would 
seem  to  be,  "  It  is  foolish  [fond]  in  me  to  keep 
imagining  'Had  ye  been  there,'  for  what 
could  your  presence  have  done?  " 

The  clause  "Had  ye  been  there."  is  the 
cognate  object  of  "dream"  and  should  not 
be  separated  from  "dream"  by  any  mark 
of  punctuation,  though  a  comma  may  be 
employed  in  such  cases.  The  concluding 
clause,  "for  what  could  that  have  done?," 
only  amplifies  the  general  idea  involved  in 
"fondly,"  which  here,  of  course,  means  "fool- 
ishly." 

I  propose,  therefore,  the  following  punctu- 
ation : 

"  Ay  me  !  I  fondly  dream 

•  Had  ye  been  there,'  for  what  could  that  have  done  ?  " 

C.  ALPHONSO  SMITH. 

Louisiana  State  University. 


28 


57 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


TO    DRINK   EISEL. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS  : — Prof.  Tolman's  paper  on  eisel,  esile, 
in  Hamlet  v.  i,  is  correct,  and  the  concluding 
suggestion:  "that  the  expression  to  drink 
eisel  passed  into  proverbial  use"  is  close  to 
the  mark,  especially  if  for  "  proverbial  "  we 
substitute  "  common."  I  have  just  stumbled 
upon  the  use  of  eisel  in  a  book  which  brings 
us  nearer  to  Shakespeare's  times  than  do  the 
older  church  plays.  Namely  in  the  Calender 
of  Shepeardes,  Sommer's  reprint  of  the  London 
ed.  of  1506,  vol.  iii,  p.  156/6:  "and  than  was 
he  nayled  on  the  crosse  and  late  fall  in  the 
mortis  and  than  gaue  hym  eysell  and  gall  to 
drynke."  The  Kalender  was  a  popular  book, 
appearing  in  many  editions  in  the  sixteenth 
century.  See  Sommer,  i,  p.  57. 

J.  M.  HART. 

Cornell  University. 

MERCHANT  OF  VENICE,  II,   2,    u. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS  : — The  Variorum  Shakespeare  in  a  note 
on  Merchant  of  Venice,  ii,  2,  n.  mentions  a 
rather  foolish  criticism  passed  upon  the  phrase 
'  'for  the  heavens, ' '  put  by  Launcelot  Gobbo  into 
the  mouth  of  the  fiend ;  namely,  that  it  is  an 
impropriety.  In  this  connection  it  seems  some- 
what singular  that  no  note  is  made  of  an  al- 
most precisely  similar  expression  which  oc- 
curs in  Cervantes,  and  in  the  mouth  of  a 
character  not  wholly  unlike  Launcelot.  In 
Don  Quixote,  Part  ii  chap.  34(Ormsbee's  trans- 
lation, iii,  384),  occurs  the  following: 

"By  God  and  upon  my  conscience"  said 
the  devil,  "I  never  observed  it,  for  my  mind 
is  occupied  with  so  many  different  things  that 
I  was  forgetting  the  main  thing  I  came  about." 

"  This  demon  must  be  an  honest  fellow  and 
a  good  Christain,"  said  Sancho,  "for  if  he 
wasn't  he  wouldn't  swear  by  God  and  on  his 
conscience ;  I  feel  sure  there  must  be  some 
good  souls  even  in  hell  itself." 

The  parallel  is  obvious. 

JOHN  E.  COLBURN. 

University  of   Vermont. 


E  VA  NG  EL  INE :  A  UCASSIN  E  T  N I  CO- 
LET  E. 

To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 
SIRS: — The  circumstances  that  gave  rise  to 


Longfellow's  Evangetine  are  recorded,'  and 
there  can  be  no  boubt  that  the  poet  built  up 
his  story  on  the  facts  as  related. 

Yet  there  is  a  similarity  in  some  of  the  de- 
tails between  Evangeline  and  the  Old-French 
romance  Aucassin  et  Nicolete  that  may  be 
worth  noting,  though  the  two  works  are,  in 
the  main,  utterly  dissimilar. 

The  unique  manuscript  of  Aucassin  et  Nico- 
lete is  in  the  National  Library  at  Paris,  and 
this  chantefable,  as  it  is  called,  has  been  edited 
seven  times — in  1809,  1829,  1842,  1856,  1866, 
1878,  besides  one  edition  without  date. 

With  possibly  one  exception,  there  is  no 
similarity  of  mere  expression,  and  this  excep- 
tion is  perhaps  the  resemblance  between  the 
following  passages  : 

Aucassin  et  Nicolete,  §  i,  vv.  1-9 : 

Qui  vauroit  bons  vers  olr 
del  deport  du  viel  caitif, 
de  deus  biax  enfans  petis, 
Nicholete  et  Aucassins, 
des  grans  paines  qu'il  soufri 
et  des  proueces  qu'il  fist 
por  s'amie  o  le  cler  vis  ? 
Dox  est  Ii  cans,  biax  Ii  dis 
et  cortois  et  bien  asis. 

and  Evangeline,  vv.  16-19 : 

Ye  who  believe  in  affection  that  hopes,  and  endures,  and  is 
patient, 

Ye  who  believe  in  the  beauty  and  strength  of  woman's  de- 
votion, 

List  to  the  mournful  tradition  still  sung  by  the  pines  of  the 
forest  ; 

List  to  a  tale  of  love  in  Acadie,  home  of  the  happy. 

Similarities  of  plot,  on  the  other  hand,  are 
rhore  numerous  as  we  see  from  the  fact  that: 

In  each  story  the  lovers  are  brought  up  to- 
gether in  a  village. 

In  each  they  are  separated  by  capture,  being 
taken  away  on  different  ships,  though  this  is 
not  quite  clear  in  Evangeline. 

In  each  the  lover  after  the  separation  makes 
no  effort  to  seek  his  sweetheart,  though  he 
still  loves  her  dearly. 

In  each  during  the  separation  the  maiden  is 
unsuccessfully  urged  by  others  to  accept  an- 
other suitor. 

In  each  the  maiden  sets  out  to  seek  her 
lover  and  in  the  end  finds  him. 

In   view  of   the   evidence   of  Hawthorne's 


i  See  Hawthorne's  Amer.    Note-Book,  Oct.  24, 
Longfellow's  yournul,   Vol.   ii,  p.  70. 


3,  and 


59 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


60 


Note-Book  and  Longfellow's  Journal,  it  is 
quite  certain  that  these  are  only  coincidences; 
but  that  the  two  works  should  run  parallel  in 
so  many  details,  and  in  such  important  details 
as  some  of  them  are,  is  none  the  less  remark- 
able. It  may  be,  moreover,  that  our  poet  was 
familiar  with  the  Old-French  story,  and  ad- 
mired it  for  its  simple  beauty;  for,  despite  its 
vein  of  keen  ridicule,  it  is  just  such  a  pretty 
little  tale  as  would  strike  his  fancy.  This  may 
help  to  explain  his  eagerness  to  appropriate  a 
similar  plot  as  soon  as  one  presented  itself  on 
American  soil.  His  long  studies  in  general 
literature,  his  frequent  stays  in  Europe,  and 
his  intercourse  with  European  men  of  letters, 
lend  color  to  the  suggestion. 

J.  W.  PEARCE. 
New  Orleans. 


THE  ORIGINAL  MEANING   OF 

' Dunce' 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES. 

SIRS: — Etymologists  tell  us  that  the  word 
dunce  originated  in  the  phrase  Duns  man, 
Duns-man,  to  denote  a  follower  of  Duns 
(Dunse,  Dunce)  whose  full  name  was  John 
Duns  Scotus.  The  epithet  was  probably  ap- 
plied in  the  first  instance  by  his  philosophical 
opponents,  the  Thomists,  or  followers  of 
Thomas  Aquinas.  Presently  it  came  to  mean 
any  sophistical  opponent,  and  so  degenerated 
to  its  common  signification,  '  a  dull,  obstinate 
person.' 

The  Century  Dictionary  refers  to  Tyndale 
for  the  primary  meaning,  but  offers  no  quota- 
tion, except  a  definition  of  the  Italian  word 
Scotista,  from  Florio's  A  Worlde  of  Wordes. 

I  have  come  across  the  word  in  its  original 
sense  in  Marston's  comedy,  What  You  Will, 
printed  in  1607.  Marston  is  describing  the 
research  into  An  sit  animaf  Whether  there 
be  a  soul,  and  if  so,  what  are  its  nature  and 
attributes : — 

Lampatho.     "  I  was  a  scholar :  seven  useful  springs 
Did  I  deflower  in  quotations 
Of  crossed  opinions  'bout  the  soul  of  man. 
The  more  I  learnt  the  more  I  learnt  to  doubt : 
Knowledge  and  wit,  faith's  foes,  turn  faith  about. 

Simplicius .    "  Nay,    come,    good    Senior,    I    stay  all    the 


gentlemen  here.     I  would  fain  give  my  pretty 
page  a  pudding  pie." 

Lampatho.     "  Honest  epicure  I  Nay,  mark,  list,  Delight. 

Delight,  my  spaniel  slept,  whilst  I  baused  leaves, 
Tossed  o'er  the  dunces,  pored  on  the  old  print 
Of  titled  words;  and  still  my  spaniel  slept; 
Whilst  I  wasted  lamp  oil,  'bated  my  flesh, 
Shrunk  up  my  veins ;  and  still  my  spaniel  slept. 
And  still  I  held  converse  with  Zabarell, 
Aquinas,  Scotus,  and  the  musty  saw 
Of  antique  Donate:  still  my  spaniel  slept. 
Still  on  went  I :  first,  an  sit  anima  ? 
Then  an  it  were  mortal.     O,  hold,  hold  I 
At  that  they're  at  brain-buffets,  fell  b/  the  ears 
A  main  pell-mell  to-gether;    still  my   spaniel 

slept. 

Then  whether  'twere  corporeal,  local,  fixt, 
Ex  traduce,  but  whether  't  had  free  will 
Or  no,  ho,  philosophers 

Stood  banding  factions,  all  so  strongly  propt, 
I  staggered,  knew  not  which  was  firmer  part, 
•  But  thought,  quoted,  read,  observed,  and  pried, 
Stuft  noting-books;  and  still  my  spaniel  slept. 
At  length  he  waked,  and  yawned,  and,  by  yon 

sky, 
For  aught  I  know,  he  knew  as  much  as  I.'' 

What  You  Will,  Act  ii,  Scene  i. 

The  quotation  is  interesting,  not  only  be- 
cause it  presents  a  common  word  in  its  very 
uncommon  first  meaning — I  know  of  no  other 
instance  of  this  usage — but  because  it  furnishes 
a  good  illustration  of  the  satiric  style  of  the 
dramatist.  What  You  Will  is  Marston's  most 
pleasing  play.  I  may  add  that  in  this  same 
act  and  scene,  Lampatho,  the  speaker,  is 
called  Don  Kynsader,  which  identifies  him 
with  Marston  himself. 

MARY  AUGUSTA  SCOTT. 
Baltimore,  Md. 


BRIEF  MENTION.       ^ 

We  are  glad  to  know  that  some  of  our  Naval 
Officers  do  good  work  in  addition  to  their 
routine  service.  Surgeon  T.  B.  Stephenson, 
U.  S.  N.,  has  lately  furnished  translations 
from  several  Russian  publications.  Dr.  Steph- 
enson made  use  of  his  opportunities  to  ad- 
vantage in  gaining  a  practical  knowledge  of 
the  language  of  this  nation — so  rapidly  grow- 
ing in  strength  and  influence.  Dr.  Stephen- 
son  is  a  member  of  the  Societi  d'anthro- 
pologie  de  Paris  and  of  The  Asiatic  Society 
of  Japan,  Tokyo. 


6i 


January,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  r. 


62 


PERSONAL. 

Mr.  Raymond  Weeks  has  recently  been  ap- 
pointed Professor  of  Romance  Languages  in 
the  University  of  Missouri,  Columbia.  Having 
taken  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts  at 
Harvard  University  in  1890,  he  spent  a  year 
abroad  in  study  at  the  Universities  of  Paris 
and  Berlin  and  was  granted  the  degree  of 
Master  of  Arts  by  his  alma  mater  in  1891. 
For  the  next  two  years  he  was  Instructor  in 
French  at  the  University  of  Michigan,  and  has 
published  the  following :  A  Method  of  Re- 
cording Movements  of  the  .Soft  Palate  in 
Speech;  Dialect  Notes  from  Missouri;  Pho- 
netique,  being  experiments  made  with  the 
spirograph  on  the  South-German  pronuncia- 
tion of  dentals,  labials  and  gutturals  (Annee 
Psychologique,  1895). 

In  addition  to  these  there  have  appeared  by 
his  pen  numerous  contributions  to  the  Maltre 
Phonetique. 


OBITUARY. 


ANATOLE    DE    GOURDE    DE   MON- 

TAIGLON. 

STUDENTS  of  French  art  and  literature  have 
learned  with  regret  of  the  death  at  Tours, 
Sept.  i,  of  Anatole  de  Gourde  de  Montaiglon. 
Born  at  Paris  in  1824,  he  completed  his  three 
years'  work  at  the  Ecole  des  Chartes  and  re- 
ceived his  diploma  as  archiviste  paleographe 
in  1850.  Connected  at  first  with  the  depart- 
ment of  drawings  and  designs  at  the  Louvre, 
and  later  successively  as  attache  with  the 
Bibliotheque  de  1'Arsenal  and  the  Bibliotheque 
Ste.  Genevieve,  he  was  called  back  before 
many  years  to  the  Ecole  des  Chartes  where 
he  remained  until  the  day  of  his  death  as 
Professor  of  Bibliography.  His  courses  were 
always  popular  and  valuable,  and  his  methods 
of  investigation  did  much  to  build  up  the 
reputation  for  accurate  and  scholarly  work 
which  the  schoo?  to-day  enjoys.  His  lectures 
for  first-year  students  were  entitled  Biblio- 
graphie  et  classement  des  Biblioth'eques,  while 
the  course  for  the  second  year  was  called 
Classement  des  archives. 

An  incessant  and  prodigious  worker,  Prof. 
Montaiglon  had  amassed  a  great  quantity  of 
valuable  notes,  and  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  he 
never  wrote  the  books  which  he  was  so  well 
prepared  to  write.  Devoting  himself  to  the 
task  of  editing,  he  seemed  all  his  life  to  be 
preparing  the  way  for  his  successors  in  the 
same  field  of  study.  His  careful  editions  of 
old  texts  and  documents  and  his  many  short 
articles  regarding  the  origins  of  French  art, 
the  early  French  artists,  archaeology  and  lit- 
erary history,  help  to  show  that  the  French 
scholar  has  put  aside  his  national  tendency 


towards  broad  generalizations,  and  that  his 
work  is  now  as  scientific  and  analytic  as  the 
most  fervent  member  of  the  German  cult  can 
desire. 

In  1891,  the  old  pupils  and  friends  of  Prof. 
Montaigton  published  privately  an  elegantly 
printed  bibliography  of  his  works  which  con- 
tains six  hundred  and  eighty-four  numbers 
under  the  respective  heads  of  Beaux-arts, 
Archeologie,  Histoire  Litteraire,  Guriosites 
and  Palsies — and  if  his  publications  since  that 
date  should  be  added  to  the  list  their  total 
number  would  be  quite  considerably  increased. 
Passing  over  his  researches  regarding  the  fine 
arts  and  archaeology  it  may  be  of  special  in- 
terest to  recall  some  of  his  work  in  the  domain 
of  literary  history. 

In  i849,while  he  was  yet  a  student,  there  ap- 
peared a  little  book  entitled  Huit  sonnets  de 
Joachim  du  Bellay,  gentilhomme  angevin, 
public's  pour  la  premiere  fois,  d'aprds  un  man- 
uscrit  de  la  Bibliotheque  nationale,  par  Anatole 
de  Montaiglon. 

In  1855,  he  published  the  editio  princeps  of 
one  of  the  older  writers  under  the  heading 
Chansons,  Ballades  et  Rondeaux  de  Jehannot 
Lescurel,  potte  francais  du  xive  si'ecle. 

Between  1855  and  1878  appeared  the  thirteen 
volumes  of  the  Recueil  des  poesies  Jranfoises 
des  xve  et  xvi'  siecles;  morales,  facetieuses, 
historiques;  re"unies  et  annote"es  par  M.  Ana- 
tole de  Montaiglon  (and  beginning  with  the 
tenth  volume  by  himself  and  M.  James  de 
Rothschild). 

With  the  aid  of  M.  Ch.  Brunei  he,  in  1856, 
published  the  first  complete  edition  of  Li 
Romans  de  Dolopathos,  and  between  1868  and 
1872,  there  appeared  Les  Quatre  Livres  de 
maistre  Francois  Rabelais,  suivis  du  manu- 
scrit  du  cinquitme  livre  ;  public's  par  lessoins 
de  MM.  A.  de  Montaiglon  et  Louis  Lacour. 

The  six  volumes  of  the  Recueil  general  et 
complet  dest Fabliaux  des  xiiie  et  xiv  siecles 
appeared  between  1872  and  1890,  M.  Gaston 
Raynaud  assisting  in  the  work  of  publication 
after  the  second  volume. 

In  1881,  Prof.  Montaiglon  edited  for  the 
Societe  des  Anciens  Textes  Francais  the 
volume  containing  L'amant  rendu  cordelier  a 
robservance  d'awours,  a  poem  attributed  to 
Martial  d'Auvergne. 

Besides  the  volumes  which  he  has  edited  for 
the  Bibliotheque  Elzevirienne,  he  did  the 
greater  part  of  the  work  on  the  first  complete 
edition  of  the  works  of  Gringoire  and  wrote 
the  notes  for  a  twenty-volume  edition  of 
Moliere  which  appeared  from  1882  to  1891. 

This  brief  account  can  necessarily  give  but 
a  faint  idea  of  the  wonderful  activity  of  M.  de 
Montaiglon,  and  yet  it  is  doubtful  whether  his 
worth  will  be  fully  appreciated  in  the  future, 
for  he  worked  quietly,  was  troubled  little  by 
the  French  thirst  for  glo ire,  and  accomplished 
far  more  for  others  than  he  ever  did  for  him- 
self. 

JOHN  R.  EFFINGER,  JR. 

Paris. 


January,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  i. 


64 


JOURNAL  NOTICES. 
KRIT ISCHER  JAHRESBERICHT  UEBER  DIE  FORT- 

8CHRITTE  DER  ROMANISCHEN  PHILOLOGIE,  her- 
ausgegeben  von  Karl  VollmOller  und  Richard  Otto. 
I.  Jahrgang  (1890),  Hefte  1-4  (appeared  1892-1894). 
Contents:  Seelmann,  E.,  Phonetik.— Skutsch,  P.,  Seel- 
maun,  K.,Scliniiil/,  J.  H.,Thlelmann,Ph.,Traubc, L.,und 
Relnhardstoettner,  Lateinische  Sprache  und  Litera- 
tur.— Meyer-Luebke,  W.,  Vergleichende  Romanische 
Grammatik.— Meyer- Luebke,  W.,  Salrloni,  ('.,  Monad, 
E.,  Schneegans,  H.,  undGuarnerlo,  P.  E.,  Italienische 
Sprache.— Koertlng,  G.,  Encyklopttdie  und  Methodolo- 
gie  der  Romanischen  Philologie.— Koertlng,  G.  und 
Wet/,  W.,  Literatnrwissenschaft.— Stengel,  E.,  Fran- 
zOsische  Literatur  von  1500-1639.— Mahrenholtz,  It.  und 
Knoerlch,  W.,  FranzBsische  Literatur  von  1630-1700.— 
Mahrenholtz.R.,  und  v.  Sallwuerk,  E.,  XVIII.  Jahr- 
hundert  und  Revolutionszeit.— Sarrazin,  J.,  FranzO- 
sische  Literatur  von  1800-1889.—  Heller,  H.  J.,  Zeit- 
genBssische  FranzOsische  Literatur.— Loth,  J.,  Kelt- 
ische  Sprache. — Loth,  J.,  Keltische  Literatur. — Sten- 
gel, E.,  Romanische  Metrik.— Stengel,  E.,  Altproven- 
zalische Sprache.—  Slimming,  A.,  Altprovenzalische 
Literatur.— Levy,  E.,  Altprovenzalische  Texte.— Neu- 
mann, P.,Historische  FranzSsische  Laut-  und  Formen- 
lehre.— 8tlmmlng,A.,Historische  Franzo'sische  Syntax. 
— Koschwltz,  E.,  Neufranzo'sische  Grammatik.— Pass, 
Chr.,  Franzb'sische  Volksetymologie— Sachs,  K..  Fran- 
zo'sische Lexikologie.— Behrens,  I).,  Wllmotte,  M., 
Horning,  A.,  Cledat,  L.,  Goerlich,  E.  und  Vising,  J., 
Franzo'sische  und  Provenzalische  Dialekte.—  Altfran- 
zosische  Literatur:  Vollmoeller,  K.,  Volksepos.— Voll- 
moeller,  K.,Historische  Literatur.— Prey mond,  E.,  und 
v.  Zlngerle,  W.,  Kunstepos.— Langlols,  E.  und  Mann, 
M.  P.,  Didaktische  Literatur.— Jeanroy,  A.,  Lyrik.— 
Bonnard,  J.,  Religiose  Literatur.—  Cloetta,  W.,  Fran- 
zBsischea  Drama  im  Mittelalter. — Italienische  Litera- 
tur :  Percopo,  E.,  Antica  Poesia  Religiosa  Italiana.— 
Monacl.E.,  Xlteste  Italienische  Prosaliteratur.—  Barbl, 
M  ,  Dante.— MazzonL  6.,  La  Letteratura  Petrarchesca 
nel  1890.— Cresclnl,  V%  Giovanni  Boccaccio.— Kajna,  P., 
II  Romanzo  Cavalleresco  Presso  gl'Italiani.— Renter, 
It.,  Italienische  Literatur  von  1400-1540.— Rossi,  V., 
Letteratura  Italiana  dal  1540  al  1690.—  Stiefel,  A.  I.,  Ital- 
ienisches  Theater  im  xvi.  und  xvii.  Jahrhundert.— 
Wlese,  B.,  Monti,  Foscolo,  Leopardi. 

REVUE  DES  LANQUES  ROMANES.  PUBLIEE  PAR 
LA  SOCIETE  POUR  L'ETUDE  DES  LANQUES  RO~ 

MANES.  TOME  XXXVIII  (1895),  NOS.  1-6.  Con- 
tents :  Codornlu,  Ch.,  Des  Origines  de  la  Langue  et  de 
la  LitteratureEspagnoles  (deuxieme  article).— Barbier, 
Ch.,  Le  Libre  de  Memorias  de  Jacme  Mascaro  (suite).— 
Camus,  Jules,  Un  Manuscrit  Namurois  du  xve  Siecle 
— Bibliographic.- Errata.— Berthele,  Jos.,  Du  R61e  de 
1'EnseigHement  Paleographique  dans  les  Facultes  de 
Lettres  (premier  article).— Itevlllout,  Ch.,  La  Ldgende 
de  Boileau  (huitieme  article).— Mahul,  Alph.,  Souve- 
nirs d'unCollegien  du  Temps  de  I'Empire  (p.  p.  L.-G.- 
P.:  suite).— Joret,  Charles,  L'Hippoglossum  Valen- 
tinum  de  Clusius. — Bibliographic.— Chronique. — Ber- 
thele, Jos.,  Du  R61ede  1'Enseignement  Paleographique 
dans  les  Facultes  de  Lettres  (deuxieme  article).— 
Donals,  C.,  Poesies  ou  Prieres  a  la  Vierge  (xie  et  xiie 


Siecle).— Rerillout,  Ch.,  La  Legende  de  Boileau  (neu- 
vieme  article).— Mahul,  Alph.,  Souvenirs  d'un  Colle- 
gien  du  Temps  de  I'Empire  (p.p.  L.-G.-P.:  fin). — 
Bibliographic.— Chronique.—  Camus,  Jules,  Un  Manu- 
scrit Namurois  du  xve  Siecle  (deuxieme  article). — 
Rlgal.  Eugene,  Corneille  et  1'fivolution  de  la  Tragedie 
en  France  (premier  article).— Buche,  Joseph,  Lettres 
inddites  de  Jean  de  Boysson^  et  de  ses  Amis  (premier 
article).— Dumas,  A.,  et  Coppee,  Frangols,  L'Academie 
et  le  Baccalaureat  (lettres).  —  Chronique.  —Camus, 
Jules,  Un  Manuscrit  Namurois  du  xve  Siecle  (suite  et 
fin). — Barbier,  Ch.,  Le  Libre  de  Memorias  de  Jacme 
Mascaro  (suite).—  Revlllout,  Ch.,  La  Legende  de  Boi- 
leau(dixieme  article).— Palllet,William,Un  Rapproche- 
ment entre  La  Fontaine  et  Victor  Hugo.— Riviere, 
Maurice,  Rigaudons  Chantes  Autrefois  ft  Saint-Mau- 
rice-de-1'Exil  (Isere).— Deux  Carnavals  Beiges  (d'apres 
le  Temps).— Chronique.— Rlgal,  Eugene,  Corneille  et 
revolution  de  la  Tragedie  en  France  (deuxieme  arti- 
cle).—Revlllout,  Ch.,  La  Legende  de  Boileau  (onzieme 
article).— Buche,  Joseph,  Lettres  inedites  de  Jean  de 
Boyssone  et  de  ses  Amis  (deuxieme  article).— Keldel, 
George-C.,  Note  sur  le  Ms.  205  de  Berne  (Bibliotheca 
Bongarsiana).— Riviere,  Maurice,  Chansons  Patoises 
qui  se  chantaient  ft  Saint-Maurice,  autrefois. — Chro- 
nique. 

ROMANIA:  RECUEIL  TRIMESTRIEL  CONSACRE  A 
L'ETUDE  DES  LANGUES  ET  DES  LITTERATURES 
ROMANES,  public  par  Paul  Meyer  et  Gaston  Paris. 
TOME  XXIV  (1895),  NOS.  93-94.  Contents :  Prledel, 
V.,  Deux  Fragments  du  Fierabras:  etude  critique  sur 
la  tradition  de  ce  roman.— Boser,  C.,  Le  Remaniement 
Proven9al  de  la  Somme  le  Boi  et  ses  Derives.— Cuerro, 
R.-J.,  Los  Casos  Encliticos  y  Procliticos  del  Pronombre 
de  Tercera  Persona  en  Castellano.— Cornu,  J.,  Combre 
et  Derives.— Thomas,  A.,  Fr.  Cormoran,Gir(ntette,  Hampe: 
Pr.  Mod.  Gamo,ffamoun.—  Jusserand,  J.  J.,  LesContes  ft 
Rire  et  la  Vie  des  Recluses  au  Moyen  Age.— Meyer,  P., 
Guillemd'Autpolet  Daspol. — Paris, (i..  La  Dance  \faca- 
bre  de  Jean  Le  Fevre.—  Crescini,  Manualetto  Proven- 
zale  (c.  r.  P.  Meyer).— Bedier,  Les  Fabliaux  (c.  r.  Ch.-M . 
Des  Granges).— Merlini,  La  Satira  Contro  il  Villano 
(c.  r.  G.  Paris).— Chronique.— Meyer.  P.,  Anciennes 
Closes  Franyaises.— Morf,  H.,  Notes  pour  Servir  ft 
1'Histoire  de  Troie  en  Italie  (suite  et  Jin).— Meyer,  P.  et 
Valois,  N.,  Poeme  en  Quatrains  sur  le  Grand  Schisme 
(1381).— Cuervo,  R.-J.,  Los  Casos  Enclfticois.  y  Proclfti- 
cos  del  Pronombre  de  Tercera  Persona  en  Castellano 
(Jin).— Thomas,  A.,  Etymologies  Franfaises :  aochier; 
artiller,  artilleur,  artillerie;  ffoupillon,  hausse-col,  pen- 
ture,  rature,  ratoir,  ratoire,  rader,  radeur,  radoire;  rest. 
—Paris.  G.,  Fr.  dorm.— Toynbee,  Paget,  Jean  de  Meun's 
Account  of  the  Spots  on  the  Moon.— Hervieux,  Les 
Fabulistes  Latins,  2e  edition  (c.  r.  L.  Sudre)— Etienne, 
Essai  de  Grammaire  de  1'  Ancien  Francais  (c.  r.  G. 
Paris).— SchlSger,  Studien  Uber  das  Tagelied  (c.  r.  A. 
Jeanroy). — L' Espurgatoire  de  Seint  Patriz,  published 
by  Jenkins  (c.  r.  G.  Paris).—  The  Recnyell of  thi  His- 
toryes  of  Troye  . . . ,  translated  by  W.  Caxton.  repro- 
duced by  O.  Sommer  (c.  r.  G.  Paris).— Araujo,  Estu- 
dios  de  Fonetica  Castellana  (c.  r.  J.  Saroihandy.— 
Saincnu,  L.,  Basmele  Romane  (c.  r.  Paris).— Periodi- 
ques.— Chroniques. 


MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES. 


Baltimore,  February,    1  SIM;. 

THE   THIRTEENTH  ANNUAL    CON- 
VENTION OF  THE  MODERN  LAN- 
GUAGE ASSOCIA  TION  OF 
AMERICA. 

THE  thirteenth  annual  meeting  of  the  Modern 
Language  Association  of  America  was  held 
at  Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Connecticut, 
on  Thursday,  Friday,  and  Saturday,  Decem- 
ber 26,  27,  and  28,  1895.  The  time  was  felt  to 
be  somewhat  unfavorable,  since  Christmas  fell 
in  the  middle  of  the  week,  for  this  made  it 
inconvenient  to  those  at  a  distance  wishing 
either  to  come  at  all  or  to  be  present  promptly 
on  the.  opening  day.  It  was  a  happy  choice, 
therefore,  that  the  place  of  meeting  was  New 
Haven,  located  centrally,  for  the  largest  por 
tion  of  membership  in  the  New  England  and 
Middle  States.  From  this  point  of  view  the 
attendance  was  both  large  and  representative. 
The  Association  was  called  to  order  at  10 
A.  M.,  Thursday,  in  Osborn  Hall.  After  the 
reading  of  the  reports  of  the  Secretary  and 
the  Treasurer,  and  the  announcement  of  com- 
mittees, the  most  important  business  of  the 
meeting  came  up  in  the  nature  of  a  communi- 
cation from  Mr.  H.  Schmidt-Wartenberg  of 
Chicago,  the  Secretary  of  the  newly  formed 
Central  Modern  Language  Conference.  In 
this  letter  were  proposed  two  plans  of  cooper- 
ation and  union  ;  and  the  matter  was  referred 
to  Mr.  Kittredge  (Harvard),  Mr.  Bright  (Johns 
Hopkins)  and  Mr.  Hart  (Cornell)  as  committee 
to  report  thereon.  This  report  was  brought 
in  by  Mr.  Kittredge  on  Friday  afternoon  and 
unanimously  adopted.  It  provided  that  the 
Secretary  send  the  communication  to  the  Cen- 
tral Mod.  Lang.  Conference,  and  that  the 
committee,  with  the  addition  of  Mr.  Tolman 
(Chicago),  be  empowered  to  act  upon  the  con-' 
elusions  reached.  Four  propositions  were 
involved  :  i.  That  the  Central  Mod.  Lang. 
Conference  be  a  branch  of  the  Modern  Lan- 
guage Association  of  America,  all  members  of 
the  former  being  ipso  facto  members  of  the 
latter.  2.  That  the  fees  be  paid  to  one 
Treasurer,  and  that  the  Trea?urer  of  the 


Central  Conference  have  authority  to  draw  for 
necessary  expenses.  3.  That  the  Central 
Conference  elect  its  own  officers.  4.  That  the 
publications  be  edited,  as  hitherto,  under  the 
supervision  of  an  editorial  committee  of  which 
the  Secretary  of  the  Central  Conference  shall 
be  one. 

The  social  features  of  this  meeting  was  one 
of  its  most  delightful  marks.  In  contrast  with 
the  meeting  held  the  year  before,  when  the 
hotels  were  in  one  part  of  the  city  and  the 
University  buildings  in  quite  another,  and  one 
indulged  in  magnificent  distances,  everything 
in  New  Haven  was  centred  about  one  spot — 
the  green  or  common,  distinguished  by  its 
rows  of  stately  elms  and  its  three  churches, 
standing  side  by  side.  Every  one,  therefore, 
wherever  his  hotel  or  domicile,  touched  elbows 
constantly  with  all  the  others.  Those  present 
did  not  simply  meet ;  they  remained  together 
for  two  or  three  days  in  closest  intercourse, 
catching  from  the  physical  surroundings  even, 
as  well  as  from  the  atmosphere  everywhere 
pervading,  something  of  the  genial  and  cor- 
dial Yale  spirit.  The  place  of  constant  ren- 
dezvous for  the  gentlemen  of  the  Association 
was  the  Graduates  Club  House,  the  central 
point  whither  all  the  streams  of  social  inter- 
course converged,  and  whence  the  seemingly 
inexhaustible  stores  of  a  most  generous  hos- 
pitality were  ever  dispensed.  For  the  ladies' 
welfare  there  was  a  reception  home,  furnished 
with  no  less  warm  heartiness  by  the  woman 
members  of  the  Modern  Language  Club  of 
Yale.  Besides  all  this,  many  of  the  hospitable 
private  homes  of  the  city  were  opened  to 
many  of  the  visitors,  and  on  Friday  evening 
President  and  Mrs.  Dwight  extended  their 
doors  wide  for  all  the  attending  members, 
with  many  invited  guests. 

The  address  of  the  President  of  the  Associ- 
ation was  assigned  for  Thursday  evening. 
The  President's  address,  possibly,  may  be 
considered  as  one  of  the  permanent  features 
of  each  meeting,  so  long  as  the  present  plan 
obtains  of  having  a  new  presiding  officer  for 
each  year.  The  President  for  this  year  feeling 
that  he  represented  the  English  division  of 
the  Association,  selected  his  subject  with  a 


33 


67 


February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


68 


view  to  practical  considerations  and  a  criticism, 
in  part,  of  existing  conditions. 

President  Timothy  Dwight  of  Yale  Univer- 
sity was  first  introduced,  who  extended  a 
hearty  welcome  to  the  Association  on  be- 
half of  Yale  University  to  its  buildings  and 
grounds.  He  expressed  gratification  that  the 
Association  had  honored  Yale  with  its  pres- 
ence and  was  glad  that  so  many  were  present. 
It  was  a  pleasure  to  state  that  Yale  was  giving 
more  attention  to  the  English  science  than 
ever  before,  and  he  congratulated  all  that  the 
English  studies  were  taking  a  place  that  a 
generation  ago  did  not  know.  He  trusted 
that  this  meeting  would  strengthen  the  en- 
thusiasm of  all  in  attendance,  and  that  the 
results  would  be  in  furtherance  of  English 
studies  everywhere  in  this  country. 

Mr.  Thomas  R.  Lounsbury  next  welcomed 
the  Association  on  behalf  of  the  Modern  Lan- 
guage Club  of  Yale.  What  more  striking 
example  of  the  complete  change  that  had 
occurred  could  be  presented  ?  Thirty  years 
ago  such  an  assemblage  would  have  been  im- 
possible, and  forty  years  ago  it  would  have 
been  difficult  to  persuade  any  one  that  it  could 
ever  be  possible.  It  is  difficult  for  the  younger 
generation  to  know  the  obstacles  that  were  in 
the  way.  There  had  been  a  petty  smuggling 
trade  in  modern  languages  going  on,  which 
was  winked  at  by  the  custom-house  officials, 
so  long  as  it  was  not  too  active.  But  the  only 
linguistic  wares  that  passed  unchallenged  in 
the  ports  of  the  collegiate  degree  were  Latin 
and  Greek.  The  speaker  affirmed  that  the 
study  of  English  is  not  only  a  revolution — the 
simple  fact  is  that  it  has  been  created.  In 
his  own  college  course  he  never  once  heard 
the  name  of  a  single  English  author.  The 
only  book  he  had  studied  under  the  Professor 
of  English  Literature  was  Demosthenes  on 
the  Crown,  in  the  original  Greek.  The  modern 
languages  to-day  occupy  their  proper  place  in 
the  curriculum  not  in  derogation  of  other 
studies,  but  as  contributing  to  the  general 
good;  and  much  of  this  was  due  to  the  men 
now  present.  With  hearty  congratulations  on 
.  what  the  Association  had  done  in  the  past  and 
what  it  promised  for  the  present,  he  yielded 
to  one  of  the  oldest  of  these  pioneers  from 
one  of  the  youngest  of  the  institutions,  who, 


he  understood,  was  to  stretch  forth  the  chas- 
tening rod  over  all. 

The  President  of  the  Association,  Mr.  James 
Morgan  Hart  of  Cornell,  then  delivered  his 
address  on  "  English  as  a  Living  Language." 
The  prophet  Joel  had  declared:  "Your  old 
men  shall  dream  dreams,  your  young  men 
shall  see  visions."  The  present  season  was 
favorable,  and  he  wished  to  unroll  a  vision  to 
sympathetic  gaze, — not  one  of  text-book  and 
ritual,  but  a  vision  of  every-day  homespun. 
'English  is  a  Living  Language,'  the  profes- 
sors, and  the  newspaper  editors  say.  What  is 
a  living  language  ?  Certainly,  not  one  that 
lives  upon  the  past.  English  is  our  living 
language,  but  how  and  why  do  we  use  it?  as 
masters  at  will,  or  because  we  have  no  other 
medium  of  possible  expression  ?  We  are  con- 
nected with  schools  and  colleges,  and  every 
one  of  these  has  its  official  catalogue.  Is  the 
tone  of  these  falling  off?  Do  we  say  our  say 
in  clear  idiomatic  English,  or  does  it  bear  the 
earmarks  of  haste  and  crudity? 

Our  college  life  of  to-day  has  been  made  far 
more  attractive  by  its  undergraduate  work,  its 
fraternities,  and  its  classes  ;  but  does  the  end 
of  the  century  express  itself  better  than  in  the 
sixties  ?  The  speaker  believed  that  the  general 
average  had  fallen  off  in  thirty  years.  He 
had  two  grounds  for  thinking  so;  the  one, 
general,  and  the  other,  personal.  First,  there 
were  the  Harvard  reports.  Our  oldest  and 
largest  seat  of  learning,  and  the  one  most 
closely  related  to  American  letters,  had  to  say 
that  a  large  percentage  of  its  students  are 
ignorant  of  English.  Would  the  Harvard  of 
the  sixties  have  had  to  do  that  ?  Second,  there 
were  personal  reasons.  He  had  been  instruc- 
tor in  French  and  German  for  a  short  time  at 
Cornell ;  returning  after  eighteen  years  he  had 
noted  differences.  They  now  rejected  students 
at  Cornell  notably  deficient ;  but  what  a  strug- 
gle it  had  cost  to  make  the  reform  !  Cornell 
had  more  than  six  instructors  in  English  and 
payed  them  several  thousand  dollars  a  year  to 
do  what  can  be  done,  and  ought  to  be  done, 
elsewhere  in  the  schools ;  the  system  was 
wasteful  in  the  extreme. 

Looking  next  at  the  schools,  were  professors 

ever  satisfied  with  their  preparatory  students? 

|  The  English  question  is  wide,  more  compli- 


34 


February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


70 


cated  and  more  subtle  than  that  in  Latin  or  in 
Mathematics.  Clear  formulation  in  Latin  is 
possible ;  but  no  such  formulation  can  be 
made  in  English.  The  professors  in  the  col- 
leges have  no  uniform  standards  of  prepara- 
tion, and  they  have  none  at  all  in  the  schools. 
Instances  were  furnished  by  the  speaker  in- 
dicating the  demoralizing  attitude  of  many  of 
the  schools.  No  candidate  deficient  in  English 
should  enter  any  department ;  the  true  princi- 
ple is  to  make  English  a  part  of  every  study 
and  let  it  dominate  all. 

A  poor  writer  is  a  poor  thinker  and  to  make 
a  matter  intelligible  is  a  part  of  the  knowledge 
of  any  subject.  We  have  to  admit  frankly 
that  we  are  all  hampered  by  the  constant 
necessity  of  deciphering  hieroglyphics;  that  the 
medium  of  communication  is  deficient ;  and 
this  defect  in  English  vitiates  knowledge  in 
every  department,  and  defeats  the  ideals  in 
culture  towards  which  we  are  striving.  The 
school  ought  to  give  this  knowledge  of  Eng- 
lish, not  because  it  is  needed  in  college,  but 
because  it  is  needed  whether  one  go  to  college 
or  not.  'Sacred  to  English'  should  stand 
over  the  door  of  every  department. 

Why  should  English  thus  dominate  all 
others?  Why  should  it  have  the  veto  power? 
The  answer  is  a  seeming  paradox :  because 
English  is  not  a  study,  but  an  act  of  acquisi- 
tion, slow  and  not  easy  of  attainment.  The 
sense-power  of  most  persons  is  obtuse.  This 
obtuseness  is  Anglo-American,  generally,  but 
it  is  essentially  American ;  there  is  an  impa- 
tience at  etiquette  and  at  all  form,  and  one 
personally  resents  correction  as  one  would  a 
slur. 

This  is  a  manly  age,  and  it  is  almost  treason 
to  utter  the  sentiment  in  the  very  citadel  of 
athletics :  but  this  fever  for  athletics  is  hard 
for  the  speaker  to  understand.  He  hazarded 
the  prophecy  that  the  twentieth  century  would 
be  with  him  and  not  with  the  present  ideals. 
The  athletic  field  was  furnishing  the  occasion 
for  slang  and  tended  to  blunt  the  sense  of 
delicacy. 

The  report  of  the  Committee  of  Ten  had 
not  been  overlooked.  The  results  were  a 
long,  a  very  long,  step  towards  the  goal,  but 
they  were  not  final.  This  report  suggests  uni- 
formity of  requirements,  but  it  does  not  pre- 


clude 'cram,'  and  it  does  not  prescribe  method. 
In  one  reply  from  a  well-known  city  school  he 
found  that  teacher  and  pupils  had  to  rush 
through  all  ten  books  of  the  course  in  one 
year.  If  this  perversity  was  in  the  city,  what 
of  the  back  districts  ?  Some  of  the  selections 
on  the  committee's  list  were  to  be  criticised ; 
there  were  De  Quincey's  Flight  of  a  Tartar 
Tribe  and  Burke's  Speech  on  Conciliation 
with  America.  De  Quincey  is  generally  too 
highly  cultivated  an  author  for  this  purpose ; 
but  if  he  be  chosen,  why  not  take  his  auto- 
biographical pieces  or  something  more  typical? 
The  Tartar  Tribe  is  not  historic  and  has  no 
peculiar  humor.  Burke  is  altogether  too  ab- 
struse, except,  perhaps,  with  a  class  of  college 
men.  Some  would  say  they  wished  to  make 
English  difficult ;  but  why  should  it  be  made 
difficult  when  it  is  no  'mystery,'  as  other 
studies  are,  but  an  art,  and  a  gift?  The  task 
set  is  to  attain  to  suitable  expression,  and  for 
this  purpose,  the.  value  of  a  course  in  argumen- 
tative writing  is  very  doubtful. 

Thus  far  were  perhaps  nightmares  ;  and  now 
appeared  a  rose-colored  vision.  The  speaker 
then  outlined  the  course  for  preparation  which 
he  would  recommend  ;  and  in  his  suggestions 
he  wished  to  acknowledge  that  he  had  bor- 
rowed more  than  one  idea  from  the  city  of 
Brooklyn,  and  the  system  now  in  operation 
under  Mr.  Maxwell,  the  Superintendent  of 
Schools. 

Upon  the  conclusion  of  the  President's  ad- 
dress, the  Association  was  tendered  a  recep- 
tion by  the  Board  of  Govenors  and  members 
of  the  Graduates  Club;  and  again,  on  the 
following  evening,  after  other  engagements 
had  been  fulfilled,  yet  another  informal  recep- 
tion was  held,  and  open  house  maintained  for 
all  visitors. 

The  programme  for  the  meeting  was  unus- 
ually wide  in  character  and  extent,  embracing 
not  only  a  large  number  of  papers,  indeed, 
perhaps  too  large  for  the  limited  time,  but 
presenting  an  unusual  degree  of  diversity  in 
manner  and  method.  Two  marked  features 
of  the  English  work  was  the  presentation  of 
four  papers  on  Chaucer,  and  of  a  much  larger 
proportion,  than  in  other  years,  of  questions 
connected  with  the  study  of  literature.  The 
interest  in  Chaucer  was  unquestionably  a 


35 


February,  1896.-    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


tribute  to  the  work  and  presence  of  Professor 
Lounsbury  and  to  the  attraction  of  the  poet's 
personality,  growing  more  and  more  strong, 
as  the  century  draws  to  a  close  and  brings  the 
five  hundredth  anniversary  of  his  death.  The 
character  of  many  of  the  literary  papers,  too, 
showed  that  there  were  fewer  of  the  sort 
which  treated  of  literature  in  formal,  and  even 
commonplace,  language,  on  subjects  naturally 
fit  for  inspiration ;  and  that  there  was  more 
hope  for  the  literary  work  of  the  American 
university  professor  in  the  flavor  and  spirit 
caught  from  more  than  one  of  these  papers. 

The  motion  for  the  limitation  in  time  which 
was  made  by  Mr.  J.  B.  Henneman  (University 
of  Tennessee)  that  papers  should  not  exceed 
twenty  minutes  nor  individual  discussions  five, 
was  a  necessity  in  the  case  and  proved  just  to 
the  largest  number,  though  it  worked  to  the 
detriment  of  a  few  papers  where  the  final 
results  could  not  be  clearly  reached. 

For  purposes  of  lucidity,  in  order  better  to 
indicate  the  scope  and  nature  of  the  papers 
read,  they  are  treated  not  in  the  order  of  the 
sessions,  but  divided,  according  to  their  nat- 
ural subject-matter,  under  three  heads  : 

I.     Romance  languages,  philology  and  liter- 
ature. 

II.     German-philology  and  literature. 
III.     English,  a.  Phonetics  and  philology. 

b.  Chaucer. 

c.  General  literature. 
I.     Romance  Languages. 

The  first  paper  of  the  first  morning  session 
was  read  by  Mr.  P.  B.  Marcou  (Harvard)  on 
"The  origin  of  the  rule  forbidding  hiatus  in 
French  verse."  He  found  this  in  the  peculiar 
nature  of  the  principles  of  accentuation  in  the 
French  language  and  seemed  to  restrict  the 
use  of  hiatus  to  certain  modern  learned  words. 
Mr.  E.  S.  Sheldon  (Harvard)  wished  to  accord 
more  liberty  to  its  occurrence. 

In  a  paper  on  "  The  etymology  of  Provencal 
estra  and  Old  French  estre,"  Mr.  H.  R.  Lang 
(Yale)  sought  to  clear  up  the  history  of  certain 
words  of  which  no  satisfactory  explanation 
had  hitherto  been  given ;  there  were  certain 
confusions  from  different  words  having  as- 
sumed the  same  form,  yet  with  a  difference  of 
meaning.  Mr.  H.  A.  Todd  (Columbia),  while 
finding  it  impossible  not  to  agree  with  the 


general  conclusions,  expressed  a  caution  in 
not  considering  semasiology  as  yet  worthy  of 
the  name  of  a  science. 

The  paper  on  "The  chansons  of  La  Chi^vre, 
French  poet  of  the  twelfth  century,"  by  Mr. 
A.  B.  Simonds  (Columbia)  was  omitted  in  the 
absence  of  the  writer. 

Belonging  rather  to  the  sphere  of  literary 
history  and  interpretation  were  the  three  re- 
maining papers  on  Romance  subjects.  The 
first  of  these  was  by  Mr.  L.  O.  Kuhns  (Wes- 
leyan)  on  the  "Treatment  of  Nature  in  the 
Divine  Comedy."  This  he  limited  to  the  con- 
sideration of  certain  physical  characteristics 
of  Dante's  landscape,  particularly  those  of 
the  sea.  Mountain  beauty  had  been  revealed 
by  Rousseau  and  was  a  modern  discovery. 

The  second  paper  was  by  Miss  M.  A.  Scott 
(Baltimore)  on  "The  Italian  Novella."  The 
purpose  was  to  take  some  of  these  story  books 
down  from  their  shelves,  and  dust  them,  see 
what  the  Novella  is  like,  how  its  character 
changed,  and  indicate  the  extent  to  which 
fully  one-half  of  the  plays  in  the  Elizabethan 
drama  are  indebted  thereto  for  their  sources. 
The  narrative  and  dramatic  elements  were 
distinguished  ;  love  and  jealousy  were  the  two 
main  subjects  treated  ;  the  feeling  for  nature 
was  very  striking — there  were  flowers  and 
grass  and  birds,  and  there  was  always  plenty 
of  sunshine  ;  and  of  '  moonshine  '  too.  The 
novella  was  the  literary  form  in  which  the 
genius  of  the  Italian  Renaissance  had  best 
expressed  itself.  Its  spirit  had  usually  been 
called  '  pagan,'  but  the  '  humanists  '  had  never 
been  fair  to  the  'pagans.' 

The  third  paper  was  that  of  Mr.  B.  \V. 
Wells  (Sewanee,  Tenn.).  Reference  h5d  al- 
ready been  made  to  Rousseau  and  Romanti- 
cism by  other  speakers,  and  the  object  of  this 
paper  was  to  show  how  and -why  literary 
'  cosmopolitanism  '  began  in  France,  and  what 
part  two  important  figures  played  in  the  evo- 
lution— with  apologies  to  the  paper  of  Mr. 
Marsh  (Harvard)  for  the  use  of  the  word  'evo- 
lution.' The  qualities  of  Richardson's  style 
were  set  forth,  among  other  things  it  being  said 
that  'he  accumulated  huge  masses  of  the  insigi  i- 
ficant ; '  and  the  ground  for  his  popularity  was 
sought, not  in  the  fact  that  he  was  first  and  great- 
est, but  that  he  was  the  most  'cosmopolitan.'  It 


73 


February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


74 


was  not  long  before  Richardson's  Cfarissa 
was  eclipsed  by  Rousseau's  La  Nouvellc 
Heloise,  '  the  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  of 
a  private  tutor.'  Rousseau  reaped  the  first 
fruits  of  '  cosmopolitanism  '  and  became  the 
herald  of  romanticism  in  France.  Certain 
points  in  the  paper  were  discussed  by  Mr. 
A.  Cohn  (Columbia)  and  Mr.  H.  Wood 
(Johns  Hopkins).  Mr.  Cohn  referred  to  Erich 
Schmidt's  monograph  on  Richardson,  Rous- 
seau, and  Goethe,  and  then  desired  light  on 
the  astounding  popularity  of  Clarissa.  He 
was  one  of  the  men  who  had  tried  to  read 
Clarissa.  Missionary  work  was  hard  to  esti- 
mate, but  he  believed  that  not  only  Clarissa, 
but  also  the  Heloise  was  a  work  of  the  past. 
An  impression  was  produced  and  it  lasted 
until  after  1830.  Mr.  Wood  called  attention  to 
a  comparative  illustration  in  a  reference  to 
'  Grandison '  in  German  literature ;  he  con- 
sidered Romanticism  a  sickness,  and  this  illus- 
tration was  an  example  of  very  quick  and 
sudden  contagion. 

Two  other  papers  were  announced  by  title 
only:  "A  phonetic  transcription  of  a  Louis- 
iana folk-lore  tale"  by  Mr.  A.  Fortier  (Tulane), 
and  "  Some  unpublished  poems  of  Fernan 
Perez  de  Guzman"  by  Mr.  H.  A.  Rennert 
(Univ.  Penn.)- 

While  the  papers  on  Romance  topics  were 
not  so  numerous  as  those  in  German  and  in 
English,   yet  almost  each    one  was  followed 
by  an  interesting  discussion,  such  as  but  rela- 
tively few  of  the  entire   number  of   papers  , 
could  receive,  owing  to  the  very  perceptible 
feeling  of  constant  pressure  for  time. 
II.     German. 

To  what  extent  is  it  possible  to  recast  in  a 
higher  mood  the  early  legends  of  the  German 
race,  was  asked  by  Mr.  G.  Gruener  (Yale)  in  a 
paper  on  "The  Nibelungenlied  and  sage  in 
modern  poetry."  Each  of  the  four  modern 
versions  was  discussed,  but  despite  certain 
excellencies  in  every  case,  the  subject  was  still 
waiting  for  the  coming  of  the  poet  to  give  it 
final  form.  There  were  inherent  difficulties 
involved  :  the  necessity  of  transforming  naive 
sentiments  and  characters  into  complex  ;  the 
delineation  of  Siegfried's  character;  and  the 
proper  condensation  of  the  epic  elements. 
These  difficulties  were,  however,  not  insur- 


mountable, but  there  seemed  to  be  connected 
with  the  subject  a  lack  of  imagination  and  of 
poetic  invention.  It  were  best,  therefore,  to 
let  the  matter  rest  and  not  have  still  another 
unsuccessful  attempt  to  catalogue.  No  really 
great  poet  had  yet  been  attracted  by  the  sub- 
ject; and  even  could  there  be  another  Shake- 
spere  he  would  seek  out  other  material. 

Mr.  H.  S.  White  (Cornell)  presented  anew 
the  evidence  as  to  "The  home  of  Walther  von 
der  Vogelweide."  The  details  of  his  life 
were  given  so  far  as  known,  the  various  refer- 
ences in  his  works  and  other  testimony  extant 
were  considered,  and  the  nature  and  value  of 
the  speculation  rife  concerning  the  poet  and 
his  birthplace.  Walther  is  the  property  of  the 
entire  German  race;  many  lands  and  cities 
claim  him;  two  monuments  have  been  erected 
to  his  memory  in  different  spots,  and  he  is  a 
good  reminder  how  intellectual  life  is  not 
without  national  recognition. 

"  Hiibsche  Historic  von  einem  Ritter  wie  er 
biisset:  a  manuscript  of  the  fifteenth  century," 
was  the  subject  of  a  paper  by  Mr.  F.  G.  G. 
Schmidt  (Johns  Hopkins). 

Three  papers  were  presented  on  Goethe, 
corresponding  somewhat  with  the  multiplicity 
of  Chaucer  subjects  in  English.  The  first,  by 
Mr.  R.  N.  Corvvin  (Yale),  treated  "Goethe's 
attitude  toward  contemporary  politics."  It 
was  contended  that  the  unfavorable  criticisms 
made  on  Goethe's  political  practice  and  creed 
were  unfounded.  His  attitude  during  the 
revolution,  the  wars  of  liberation,  and  the 
movements  for  constitutional  reform  would 
compare  favorably  with  that  of  the  other  great 
literary  men ;  and  if  we  do  not  apply  latter- 
day  standards,  his  positions  are  entirely  con- 
sistent with  patriotism. 

The  second  among  the  number  was  a  paper 
"  Ueber  Goethe's  Sonette,"  contributed  by 
Professor  J.  Schipper  of  the  University  of 
Vienna,  and  forwarded  to  the  Secretary  of  the 
Association  to  be  read.  Owing  to  the  late 
hour,  Mr.  J.  W.  Bright  (Johns  Hopkins)  read 
the  paper  by  title  inertly,  commenting  on  the 
interest  of  the  points  discussed,  and  spoke  of 
the  honor  to  the  Association  in  this  recognition 
by  Professor  Schipper. 

A  third  paper  on  Goethe,  announced  on  the 
programme,  was  "Goethe's  Faust  and  ein 


37 


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February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


76 


Christlich  Meynender,  by  Mr.  G.  M.  Wahl 
(Williams). 

The  period  of  Romanticism  claimed  as  large 
a  share  of  the  attention  of  the  German  stud- 
ents as  those  in  Romance  letters.  Two  papers 
were  closely  connected  with  this  discussion  ; 
the  one  with  the  anticipation  of  the  movement 
in  the  Sturm  und  Drang  feeling,  the  other 
coming  nearer  to  the  close  of  the  Romantic 
manifestations  in  Germany.  In  a  paper  on 
"The  sources  of  the  dramaturgical  ideas  of 
Lenz,"  Mr.  Max  Winkler  (University  of  Michi- 
gan) considered  Lenz  as  the  type  of  the  'storm 
and  stress'  poet,  who  had  proceeded  from 
Diderot's  and  Rousseau's  influence  in  France. 
The  further  influences  of  Shakespeare,  Rich- 
ardson, and  Edward  Young  upon  the  storm 
and  stress  movement  were  set  forth,  and  the 
ideas  of  the  drama  and  of  nature  consequent 
thereupon.  The  example  of  Shakespeare  was 
accepted  as  the  right  of  genius  to  follow  its 
own  instincts,  yet  in  doing  so  as  following 
unconsciously  fundamental  laws  which  are 
necessary  for  the  production  of  the  drama. 
Lenz's  Hofmeister  was  taken  as  a  type  in  study- 
ing his  method  of  treatment.  The  whole  of 
the  '  storm  and  stress  '  language  was  artificial 
and  unnatural,  being  a  conscious  effort  to 
realize  its  ideals.  In  discussing  one  point  sug- 
gested ;  namely,  'Shakespeare's  influence  on 
the  continent,'  Mr.  A.  Cohn  (Columbia)  main- 
tained that  Voltaire's  purpose  was  not  to 
ridicule  Shakespeare,  but  to  make  him  known 
to  a  nation  who  did  not  know  him  ;  to  declare 
virtually,  that  in  spite  of  Shakespeare's  bad 
taste  he  was  yet  a  man  of  genius.  The 
honesty  of  Voltaire's  purpose  is  seen  in  his 
admirable  prose  translations  and  this  attitude 
did  not  change  during  his  life. 

The  paper  of  Mr.  Kuno  Francke  (Harvard) 
on  "The  place  of  Schleiermacher  and  Fichte 
in  the  development  of  German  Romanticism" 
was  another  chapter  of  a  comprehensive 
treatment  of  the  subject,  begun  in  his  pub- 
lished paper  "The  social  aspect  of  early  Ger- 
man Romanticism.'' 

As  a  contribution  to  the  history  of  the  in- 
fluence of  German  literature  upon  English 
and  American  thought  and  life,  the  paper  by 
Mr.  J.  T.  Hatfield  (Northwestern  University) 
on  "John  Wesley's  translations  (versions)  of 


German  hymns"  was  fruitful  in  suggestion. 
The  relation  of  certain  of  Wesley's  hymns  to 
their  German  originals  was  discussed,  an'd 
different  renderings  of  the  same  hymn  or 
stanza  indicated,  showing  the  changes  made, 
both  good  and  bad,  and  giving  an  intimation 
of  the  indebtedness  of  the  current  hymnolo- 
gies  to  German  sources. 

Two  other  papers  brought  Germany  into 
still  closer  connection  with  things  American. 
Mr.  M.  D.  Learned  (University  of  Pennsyl- 
vania) reviewed  "A  Wilhelm  Tell  ballad  in 
America."  At  the  time  of  the  American 
Revolution,  the  story  of  Tell  was  repeated 
and  circulated  by  the  Swiss  and  German  im- 
migrants in  Pennsylvania  interested  in  the 
American  struggle,  naturally  with  modifica- 
tions and  variations  introduced  for  political 
effect  and  to  suit  the  American  point  of  view. 
Within  the  period  of  the  revolution  there  was 
a  great  activity  in  the  history  of  the  Tell  saga 
and  ballad  on  the  continent,  and  in  1768  there 
appeared  in  Philadelphia  what  purported  to 
be  an  accurate  reprint  of  the  Swiss  copy. 
This  version  of  the  ballad  was  read,  and  by 
means  of  the  variants  and  repetitions  it  was 
sought  to  determine  the  relations  to  the  ver- 
sions of  the  saga  extant  in  Europe. 

Mr.  T.  S.  Baker  (Johns  Hopkins)  presented, 
in  a  paper  on  "'Das  junge  Detitschland  '  in 
America,"  a  further  investigation  in  the  same 
spirit.  It  treated  of  the  '  Young  Germany  ' 
movement  which  began  in  America  in  1818, 
and  which  was  social  and  political  in  its  aims 
rather  than  literary — the  endeavors,  in  a  revo- 
lutionary tendency,  of  a  younger  civilization  to 
cope  with  an  older  and  to  affect,  from  America, 
the  politics  and  destinies  of  Europe. 

Some  papers,  philological  in  import,  were 
reported  to  the  meeting  by  mere  reading  of 
the  title:  "The  relations  of  Wulfila's  alphabet 
to  the  Gothic  Futhork,"  By  Mr.  G.  A.  Hench 
(University  of  Michigan) ;  "Conjectural  res- 
toration of  the  so-called  Carmen  Gothicum," 
by  Mr.  A.  Gudeman  (University  Penn.);  and 
"W  in  Old  Norse,"  by  Mr.  P.  Groth  (Brooklyn). 
III.  English. 

That  a  larger  number  of  the  papers  pre- 
sented would  naturally  be  on  English  subjects 
might  be  anticipated  from  the  great  revival  of 
interest  of  late  years  in  the  mother  tongue  and 


77 


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its  dialects  and  its  literature.  But  the  note- 
worthy feature  of  this  meeting  was  the  com- 
parative absence  of  papers  along  philological 
lines  in  English,  and  the  marked  predilection 
for  topics  connected  with  literary  study  and 
literary  art  and  influence. 

On  the  dialectal  side  of  the  language,  Mr. 
C.  H.  Grandgent  (Boston)  read  a  paper  on 
"Warmpth:  a  study  of  the  development  and 
the  disappearance  of  a  stop  between  nasal 
and  spirant  in  American  English."  The  dis- 
cussion was  presented  with  the  clearness  and 
lucidity  with  which  Mr.  Grandgent  is  accus- 
tomed to  deal  with  topics  in  phonetics.  Un- 
studied speech  shows  abundant  examples  of 
the  omission  of  stop  sounds;  namely,  oleman; 
las'  night;  mus'  go;  don'  know ;  pun1  kin. 
Likewise  there  exist  general  confusion  be- 
tween forms  like  mark  and  marked ;  talk  and 
talked;  sects  and  sex.  Statistical  tables  were 
given  based  upon  answers  to  a  printed  circular 
received  from  one  hundred  and  forty  corre- 
spondents in  different  sections  of  the  United 
States.  The  examples  treated,  illustrating 
the  insertion  or  loss  of  a  stop  between  nasal 
and  spirant,  were  words  like  bumptious,  some- 
thing, finds,  sends,  bench,  inch,  century,  etc. 

Another  paper  treating  certain  uses  of  lan- 
guage was  that  of  Mr.  A.  Ingraham  (New 
Bedford)  on  "Overlapping  and  multiple  indi- 
cations." 

Here,  too,  may  be  classified  a  paper  by  Miss 
M.  A.  Harris  (Yale)  on  the  "Origin  and  nature 
of  language  rhythm,"  substituted  for  the  one 
announced  on  the  programme,  "Love  in  the 
poetic  writings  of  the  Elizabethan  period  and 
of  the  nineteenth  century :  a  comparative 
study."  The  abstruse  relations  of  rhythm 
were  first  considered  and  then  certain  physical 
relations  of  rhythm  in  language.  The  writer 
believed  there  were  larger  measures  of  unex- 
plored rhythm,  not  only  reasonable,  but  in- 
evitable ;  that  the  glory  of  poetry  was  past, 
and  that  prose  would  give  the  highest  enjoy- 
ment in  obedience  to  laws  which  we  may  feel, 
but  do  not  as  yet  understand  ;  for  we  cannot 
even  guess  the  future  and  higher  laws  to  be 
revealed  to  keener  minds  than  ours. 

In  the  Old  English  (Anglo-Saxon)  period 
there  was  no  paper  presented  and  but  one 
announced  by  title:  "Notes  on  the  use  of 


cases  after  certain  prepositions  in  Anglo- 
Saxon  (Alfred,  jElfric,  and  the  Chronicle)," 
by  Mr.  H.  M.  Belden  (University  of  Missouri). 
Likewise,  there  was  but  one  paper  on  the 
Middle-English  period,  if  we  except  those  on 
Chaucer.  This  was  "  The  Seege  of  Troy,  a  Mid- 
dle English  romance,"  by  Mr.  C.  H.  A.  Wager 
(Centre  College).  A  sketch  of  the  history  of  the 
Troy  legend  was  outlined,  and  its  popularity  in 
medieval  literature  stressed,  as  the  theme  for 
numerous  romances  and  dramas  from  the 
seventh  to  the  sixteenth  century. 

The  marked  interest  which  the  Chaucer 
discussions  aroused  has  been  commented 
upon  above.  The  first  of  these  papers  was 
that  of  Mr.  }.  M.  Manly  (Brown)  on  "  Marco 
Polo  and  the  Squier's  Tale."  The  speaker 
desired  to  shed  darkness  rather  than  light 
upon  the  subject.  The  many  confusions  ex- 
isting between  Marco  Polo  and  Chaucer's  ac- 
count were  indicated,  exception  was  taken  to 
one  or  two  of  Professor  Skeat's  notes,  and  the 
conclusion  reached  that  Chaucer  could  not 
have  used  Marco  Polo,  but  that  the  confusions 
present  in  Chaucer's  version  were  due  to  con- 
fusions existing  in  the  originals  employed  by 
him — whatever  these  were. 

The  second  Chaucer  topic  was  "  Chaucer's 
development  in  rime-technique"  by  Mr. George 
Hempl  (University  of  Michigan);  and  was  pre- 
sented with  remarkable  clearness  and  force. 
Taking  ns  test  certain  impure  and  certain 
cheap  rimes,  just  wherein  the  art  of  the  poet 
would  be  apt  to  improve,  the  ra.tio  of  the  ad- 
vance was  given.  In  every  case  the  Duchfsse 
gave  the  largest  number  of  such  cheap  rimes 
and  Troilus  and  Criseyde  the  smallest. 
Where  they  occur  most  frequently  in  Tr.  and 
Cr.  it  is  in  the  inferior  part  where  the  moral 
dissertation  is  thrown  in.  Each  of  the  Can- 
terbury Tales  is  to  be  taken  separately  in  as- 
certaining the  figures,  and  where  there  is  evi- 
dently no  unity  of  production  in  a  poem,  even 
further  divisions  are  to  be  made.  This  meth- 
od of  treatment  showed  one  surprising  differ- 
ence from  a  commonly  accepted  theory.  Ten 
Brink's  Studien  maintains  that  the  story  of 
Palamon  and  Arcite  was  first  written  in  seven- 
line  stanzas,  and  afterwards  changed  to  the 
couplet  in  the  later  form.  Apart  from  the  im- 
probability of  turning  more  than  two  thou- 


39 


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February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


80 


sand  lines  from  stanzaic  into  couplet  form,  the 
belief  was  expressed  that  this  was  a  myth. 
Palamon  and  Arcite  was  in  the  same  form 
originally  as  the  Knighf  s  Tale;  but  there  is 
difference  in  workmanship  perceptible ;  and 
in  the  cases  of  the  most  important  differences 
between  this  Tale  and  Boccaccio's  story,  the 
workmanship  of  the  revision  is  clearly  super- 
ior. We  haye  then  before  us  an  interesting 
instance  of  Chaucer's  revising  work  in  a  large 
portion  of  the  poem.  This  argument  carries 
with  it  as  a  consequence  that  the  heroic  coup- 
let was  used  by  Chaucer  early  in  life,  and  Pro- 
fessor Skeat's  dictum  as  to  the  period  based 
upon  the  use  of  the  seven-lined  stanza  and 
the  couplet  is  consequently  weak. 

Very  similar  in  purpose,  though  somewhat 
different  in  method,  was  the  paper  on  "  Some 
features  of  Chaucer's  verse"  by  Mr.  M.  W. 
Easton  (University  of  Pennsylvania).  In  the 
absence  of  the  writer  the  paper  was  read  by 
Mr.  Homer  Smith  (University  of  Pennslvania). 
The  leading  'features'  discussed  were  the  troch- 
aic short  lines, changes  of  accent, syllable  stress, 
logical  stress,  caesura,  and  hiatus.  While  the 
order  of  intermediate  works  varied  accord- 
ing to  the  test  employed,  as  in  Professor 
Hempl's  paper,  the  Duchesse  and  Troilus  and 
Criseyde  represented  the  two  extremes  of  art. 

The  remaining  Chaucer  topic  was  a  study 
of  the  poet's  art  from  a  different  point  of  view, 
that  of  literary  construction,  and  took  as  its 
basis  the  work  which  had  been  declared 
above,  upon  empiric  grounds,  as  Chaucer's 
artistic  masterpiece.  The  subject  of  the 
paper  was  :  "  Troilus  and  Criseyde :  a  study  of 
Chaucer's  method  of  narrative  construction," 
by  Mr.  T.  R.  Price  (Columbia). 

The  poem  contains  a  definite  dramatic 
problem,  and  a  definite  dramatic  solution,  all 
bound  together  in  dramatic  unity.  It  is  an  il- 
lustration of  the  evolution  of  narrative  form 
into  the  dramatic,  and  so  it  touches  hand  with 
our  own  time  in  drama  and  romance.  There 
is  the  same  psychological  study  of  human 
character;  the  same  grouping  and  sequence  ; 
the  same  mastery  of  constructive  methods. 
This  constitutes  its  discovery  of  principles  of 
literary  art  which  in  romance  and  drama  form 
the  special  glory  of  our  nineteenth  century. 
The  passage  on  predestination  is  a  blot,  but 


it  shows  Chaucer's  conceptions  on  a  question 
of  human  life.  So  in  this  story  of  human 
fate,  the  end  is  to  be  calculated  from  the  be- 
ginning, and  Chaucer  thus  again  lays  down 
the  modern  ideas  of  constructive  art.  The 
three  chief  male  figures  serve  only  for  the 
elaborate  portraiture  of  Criseyde.  She  be- 
comes the  chief  character,  binding  all  parts 
into  a  dramatic  unity  of  action:  the  story 
really  portrays  a  woman's  fickleness  in  love. 

Coming  to  the  later  period  in  English  liter- 
ature, two  of  the  papers  dealt  largely  with  the 
personality  of  the  subjects  treated.  These 
were  "Notes  on  John  Tiptoft,  Earl  of  Wor- 
cester," by  Mr.  H.  S.  Pancoast  (Germantown), 
and  "Notes  on  Ben  Jonson's  quarrel  with 
Marston,"  by  Mr.  J.  H.  Penniman  (Univ. 
Penn.). 

Mr.  Pancoast  wished  to  rescue  from  forget- 
fulness  a  figure  prominent  in  the  period  of  the 
New  Learning  in  the  fifteeenth  century,  "the 
flower  of  virtue  and  nobleness  "  as  Caxton 
called  him,  a  lover  of  learning  despite  the  din 
of  arms  in  the  contentions  between  York  and 
Lancaster  lasting  a  hundred  years,  a  scholar 
and  an  aristocrat,  a  man  of  letters  filled  with 
the  spirit  of  the  new  culture  and  one  of  the 
first  fruits  in  England  of  the  Italian  Renais- 
sance,— one  who  was  checked  and  clogged  in 
life  and  suffered  the  brutalizing  fate  of  a 
bloody  death.  The  story  of  his  life  serves  as 
a  brief  chronicle  of  the  temper  of  his  age. 

Mr.  Penniman 's  paper  sought  to  put  an  end 
to  the  longstanding  quarrel  between  Ben  Jon- 
sons  and  Marston  and  Dekker,  find  out  what  it 
was  all  about,  who  was  in  the  wrong,  and 
what  should  be  done  with  the  culprits.  There 
were  ten  years  in  which  the  quarrel  assumed 
various  phases,  and  there  were  twelve  plays, 
appearing  in  this  period,  to  be  considered. 
The  method  was  to  take  up  each  of  these 
plays  in  detail,  and  to  determine,  with  the 
help  of  all  side-lights,  the  relative  dates, 
the  character  and  significance  of  the  .ref- 
erences made,  and  the  persons  to  whom 
these  would  apply.  This  was  one  of  the  pa- 
pers, which,  unfortunately,  could  not  be  fin- 
ished owing  to  the  expiration  of  the  time 
limit. 

In  the  absence  of  the  writer  an  announce- 
ment on  "A  study  of  the  poetry  of  John 


40 


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February,  1896.     MODEKN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


82 


Donne,"  by  Mr.  M.  G.  Brumbaugh  (Juniata) 
was  passed  over.  Likewise  a  paper  on  "Two 
parallel  studies  in  sociology :  a  comparison 
of  certain  features  in  a  drama  by  Shakespeare 
and  one  by  Ibsen,"  by  Mr.  C.  E.  Wright 
(Middlebury)  was  announced  merely  by  title. 
Treating  a  particular  genus  of  literary  produc- 
tion was  a  paper  by  Mr.  Homer  Smith  (Univ. 
Penn.)  on  "The  significance  of  Pastoral  Lit- 
erature." A  definition  of  the  Pastoral  was 
given,  which  the  writer  found  in  a  consistent 
picture  of  the  lives  and  loves  of  shepherds 
and  shepherdesses  in  a  given  place  and  country 
or  an  idealized  account  of  fictitious  shepherds 
and  shepherdesses  in  the  golden  age.  There 
followed  classification  of  pastorial  examples, 
based  upon  this  definition,  and  taken  largely 
from  English  literature,  with  distinctions  and 
characteristics  in  every  case. 

The  three  remaining  papers,  each  written 
with  literary  insight  and  delicacy,  discussed 
questions  of  a  more  speculative  nature  and 
wider  in  their  applications. 

Mr.  Brander  Matthews  (Columbia)  treated 
"The  conventions  of  the  drama  ;  "  He  would 
tell  of  the  content  of  his  paper,  otherwise 
owing  to  the  limitation  in  time  he  could  not 
touch  upon  all  the  points  as  written.  He 
defined  the  term  'convention,'  explaining  its 
meaning  and  applications  by  many  entertain- 
ing illustrations. 

The  paper  of  Mr.  Bliss  Perry  (Princeton)  on 
"Fiction  as  a  college  study"  was  in  so  far 
pedagogical  as  it  discussed  the  feasibility  and 
advantages  of  making  use  of  fiction  as  a  study 
in  the  undergraduate  course. 

The  paper  of  Mr.  A.  R.  Marsh  (Harvard)  on 
"The  comparative  study  of  literature"  se- 
cured the  closest  attention  and  interest. 

There  is  a  new  phase  in  vogue,  that  of 
'  comparative  literature.'  There  are  journals 
on  '  comparative  literature  '  and  professors  of 
'comparative  literature  '—the  speaker  himself 
one — but  there  is  no  consensus  of  opinion  as 
to  the  meaning  of  the  words.  Some  mean  by 
this,  comparing  literatures  in  different  lan- 
guages, like  Matthew  Arnold's  "idea  of  a 
disinterested  endeavor  to  learn  and  propagate 
the  best  that  is  known  and  thought  in  the 
world."  But  until  we  are  without  our  pre- 
judices as  to  morals  we  ought  not  to  be  allowed 


to  have  '  disinterested  endeavors  to  learn  and 
propagate.'  A  better  definition  would  be 
found  in  the  study  of  the  origins,  the  develop- 
ment,and  the  manner  of  diffusion  of  themes. 
Take,  for  example,  the  diffusion  of  the  beast 
fables.  So  M.  Gaston  Paris  has  pursued  this 
method  in  his  studies  of  the  Charlemagne 
cycle ;  likewise,  much  of  the  work  of  the 
brothers  Grimm  might  be  reckoned  here ; 
and  Professor  Child  in  his  "Ballads"  has 
given  us  a  monumental  work  of  this  kind. 
Here  are  studies  that  are  richer  in  results  than 
what  we  have  hitherto  had,  and  which  will 
modify  profoundly  the  traditional  conceptions 
on  the  subject.  They  are  views  undeveloped 
both  in  theory  and  in  practise  ;  those  who 
have  followed  along  this  path  have  done  so 
by  instinct  rather  than  through  fixed  purpose. 
This  study  includes  the  bibliography  or  the 
technical  literary  history.  It  involves  a  tre- 
mendous change  such  as  has  occurred  in 
the  study  of  language.  Literature  is  one 
of  the  provinces  of  universal  nature,  just 
as  language  is,  and  the  only  way  o(  treat- 
ing it  is  to  study  it  thus.  It  ceases  then  to  be 
a  mere  study  of  work  distinguished  for  su- 
preme moral  excellence.  The  zoologist  does 
not  limit  himself  to  the  finest  specimens  in  the 
animal  kingdom ;  nor  does  the  philologist 
look  only  at  certain  words.  In  like  manner 
the  student  of  literature  must  study  the  whole 
body  of  literature.  The  Spanish  proverb 
says,  'There  are  all  kinds  in  the  garden  of  the 
Lord.' 

Julius  Zupitza,  Professor  in  the  University  of 
Berlin,  and  an  honorary  member  of  the 
Association,  having  died  in  the  course  of  the 
year,  a  resolution  of  respect  was  offered  by 
Mr.  J.  B.  Hennemann  (University  of  Tennes- 
see), who  desired  to  pay  tribute  to  the  memory 
of  his  former  instructor. 

The  committee  on  the  naming  of  officers  for 
the  following  year,  made,  through  its  chair- 
man, Mr.  A.  S.  Cook  (Yale)  the  following 
nominations,  which  were  accepted  : 

For  President:  Calvin  Thomas  (University 
of  Michigan). 

For  Secretary :  James  W.  Bright  (Johns 
Hopkins  University). 

For  Treasurer:  Herbert  E.  Greene  (Johns 
Hopkins  University). 


February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  N'OTES.^  Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


84 


For  the  Executive  Council : 

(Hugo  A.  Rennert 
(University  of  Pennsylvania). 
C.  T.  Winchester 
(Wesleyan  University). 
I  Henry  Johnson 
[     (Bowdoin  College). 

(Albert  H.  Tolman 
(University  of  Chicago). 
John  E.  Matzke 
(Leland  Stanford  Jr.  Univ.). 
Charles  Harris 
(Adelbert  College). 
|Alce"e  Fortier 
(Tulane  University). 
Charles  H.  Ross 
(Ala.  Ag.  &  Mech.  College). 
W.  Spencer  Currell 
(Washington  &  Lee  Univ.). 
(A.  Marshall  Elliott 

For  Editorial  J      (Johns  Hopkins  University). 
Committee.   }  H.  Schmidt-Wartenberg 

[  (University  of  Chicago). 
The  Committee  on  place  of  meeting,  Mr.  A. 
M.  Elliott  (Johns  Hopkins), chairman,  reported 
in  favor  of  Cleveland,  Ohio,  accepting  the 
invitation  of  the  Adelbert  College  of  Western 
Reserve  University. 

Before  adjournment,  by  motion  of  Mr.  O.  F. 
Emerson  (Cornell),  a  resolution  of  thanks  to 
the  officers  of  Yale  University,  to  the  Modern 
Language  Club  of  Yale  University,  to  the 
Graduates  Club,  and  especially  to  President 
and  Mrs.  Dwight,  for  their  kind  and  generous 
hospitality,  was  unanimously  adopted. 


The  American  Dialect  Society  met  in  con- 
vention on  Friday,  December  27th,  at  2  P.  M., 
with  President  E.  S.  Sheldon  (Harvard)  in  the 
chair.  The  report  of  the  secretary,  Mr.  E.  H. 
Babbitt  (Columbia),  contained  an  interesting 
summary  of  the  work  done  during  the  year. 
The  most  important  action  was  the  passing  of 
a  constitutional  amendment  creating  life  mem- 
bership upon  the  payment  of  $25.00.  A  com- 
mittee, with  Mr.  O.  F.  Emerson  (Cornell), 
chairman,  was  appointed  to  take  charge  of  the 
reading  work  in  search  for  dialect  material, 
and  another  committee  with  Mr.  George 
Hempl  (Univ.  Mich.),  chairman,  was  to  con- 
tinue the  work  of  distributing  circulars  for 
information  in  different  parts  of  the  country. 
There  was  discussed  the  feasibility  of  accum- 
ulating a  library,  the  books  offered  by  the 
English  Dialect  Society  to  serve  as  nucleus. 


For  the  coming  year,  Mr.  C.  H.  Grandgent 
(Boston)  was  chosen  President  and  Mr.  G.  L. 
Kittredge  (Harvard)  Vice  President,  and  the 
membership  of  the  Executive  Council  was 
altered  so  as  to  be  more  widely  distributed 
over  the  country. 

J.  B.  HENNEMAN. 
The  University  of  Tennessee. 


THE  FERRARA  BIBLE.     III. 
C. 

CABELLADURA,  n.  Cabello,  R.  Song,    vii,  5. 

CABRENO,  n.  Pelos  de  cabres,  R.  Ex.  xxv,  4. 
Cf.  Acad.  cabrina,  ant.  piel  de  cabra. 

CABRIOLA,  n.  Cabra  monte's,  R.  Sam.  i,  xxiv, 
2.  Diminutive  of  cabra. 

CADAHALSO,  n.  Pulpito,  R.  Neh.  viii,  4.  Acad. 
— ant.  cadalso  (catafalco). 

CADILLO,  n.  Cachorro,  R.  Jud.  xiv,  5.  Acad. 
— provincial  de  Arrag6n  cachorro. 

CAEDURA,  n.  Cuerpo  muerto,  R.  Jud.  xiv,  8. 

CAFIRA,  n.  Saphiro,  R.  Job  xxviii,  16. 

CALABRINA,  n.  Cuerpo  muerto,  R.  Lev.  v,  2. 
Sal. — ant.  calavera,  but  this  is  not  cor- 
rect;  it  is  the  Lat.  cadaver-\-ina.  The 
change  of  d  to  /  occurs  also  in  melezi- 
nar,  q.  v.  It  has  the  same  meaning  in 
El  libra  de  Alexandre  2264  : 

Mas  daquesto  non  les  quiso  escuchar  la  reyna, 
Ca  querie  recabdar  e  tornarse  ayna  : 
Non  querie  longa-miente  morar  enna  sentina 
Ca  toda  era  llena  de  mala  calabrina. 

The  previous  description  of  the  bodies 
burning  in  Hell,  which  the  Queen  sees, 
at  once  indicates  the  meaning  of  cala- 
brina, though  hedor,  as  given  by  the 
annotator,  is  also  appropriate  here^-  In 
Vida  de  Sancta  Oria  104  it  evidently  has 
the  meaning  of  'mortal  body  ': 

Los  cielos  son  mucho  altos,  yo  pecadriz  mezquina 
Si  una  vez  tornaro  en  la  mi  calabrina, 
Na  fallare  en  nuindo  sennora  nin  madrina, 
For  qui  yo  esto  cobre  nin  tarde  nin  ayna. 

God  will  not  grant  Oria's  prayer  that 
she  be  immured  alive,  and  she  answers 
God  that  she  is  afraid  to  return  to  her 
mortal  body.  The  annotator  gives  for 
calabrina:  Casilla  6 choza  de  Calabria. 
Acaso  el  poeta  quiso  significar  meta- 
foricamente  el  cuerpo,  en  cuanto  es 
como  habitacion  del  alma. 


February,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


86 


CALLENTURA,  n.  Calentura,  R.  Lev.  xxvi,  16. 
CAMPINA,  n.   Campo,   R.   Jer.  xvii,    26.    Cf. 

Acad.  campina. 
CANEZA,  n.    Cana,   R.  Gen.  xlii,  38.    Sal. — 

ant.  el  color  cano  del  pelo  del  hotnbre. 
CANTIGA,  n.    Cancion,   R.   Ex.  xv,  i.    Bibl. 

Esp.  Ivii.     Acad. — ant.  cantar. 
CAPTIVACION,    n.    Captividad,   R.    Chron.  2, 

xxviii,  13. 
CAQUIC/AMINAR  (concedro),  v.    Cubrir,  R.  Jer. 

xxii,  14.     See  Acad.  zaquizami, 
CARCAZ,  n.    Aljava,  R.  Is.  xxii,  6.    In  Acad. 

only  carcaza  is  given. 
CARONAL,    adj.    Cercano,    R.  Lev.  xviii,    6. 

'Near  of  kin.'     Cf.    Rimado  de  Palacio 

368:   Fijo  es  de  una  mi  prima,  mi  pari- 

enta    caronal.      Etym.    from    carona= 

earns. 
CARRADURA,  n.    Capullo  (i.  e.  prepucio),  R. 

Gen.  xvii,  n.     Etym.  from  farrar,  q.  v. 
CARRAR,   v.    Cerrar,   R.  Gen.   xix,  6.     Bibl. 

Esp.  Ivii. 
CASTIGUERIO,  n.    Castigo,  R.  Is.  xxviii,  22. 

Sal. — ant. — 

CATIVERIO,  n.  Captiverio,  R.  Ex.  xii,  29. 
CAVACAMIENTO,  n.  Diversas  figuras,  R.  Kings 

i,  vi,  29.     Cf.  Sal.  cabaco  (poco  us.)  el 

zoquete  que  sobra  despues  de  labrado 

el  palo. 

CEGUIDUMBRE,  n.  Ceguedad,  R.  Gen.  xix,  n. 
CENC;ENA,  n.  Pan  sin  levadura,  R.  Gen.   xix, 

3.     Sal. — ant. — 
CERRADURA,    n.    Moldura,    R.  Ex.  xxv,  25. 

Acad. — ant.  encerramiento. 
CINAMO,  n.  Canela,  R.   Ex.  xxx,  23.     Short 

form  of  cinantomo. 
CINTERO,    n.    Cinto,    R.    xxviii.     Bibl.   Esp. 

Ivii.      Sal. — ant.  el  cenidor  que  usaban 

las  mujeres. 
CINTURA,  n.  Delantal,  R.  Gen.  Hi,  .7.    This 

meaning  is  not  given  in  the  dictionaries. 
CIRCILLO,   n.    Pendiente,   R.   Gen.   xxiv,   22. 

Acad.  cercillo  ant.  zarcillo. 
CLAREZA,  n.  Claridad,  R.  Ex.  xxiv,  10.     Sal. 

— ant. — 
COBDICIADO,   adj.    Deseable,   R.   Gen.   iii,  6. 

Part,  of  cobdiciar. 
COBDICIAR,  v.  Desear,  R.  Gen.  xxxi,  30.     Sal. 

— ant.  codiciar. 
CoBDjgroso  (a  la  vista),  adj.  Pleasant,  Gen. 

H,9- 


COBDO,   n.    Codo,    R.    Ex.    xxv,    10.    Sal.— 

ant. — 
COBERTERO,   n.    Cubierta,    R.    Ex.   xxv,   17. 

Acad. — ant. — 
COGOMBRAL,  n.  Melonar,  R.  Is.  i,  8.    Formed 

from  cogombro. 
COMBLESA,  n.   Competidora,  R.  Sam.  i,  i,  6. 

Acad.  combleza,  manceba  del   hombre 

casado. 
COMOLE<PER,  v.   Vex.  Lev.  xviii,  18.    Hum. 

angustiar.     Probably  misprint  for  com- 

malecer.     See  emmalefedor. 
COMPANA,  n,  Compania.     Acad. — ant. — 
COMPLIMIENTO,  n.  Consagracion,  R.  Ex.  xxix, 

22.  Translation    of   Hebrew  millu'lm 
consecrationfs,  perfectiones.     Pagn. 

CONORTAR,   v.   Consolar  R.  2,  x,  2.     Etym. 

confortar.        , 
CONJURAR,   v.    Tomar  juramento  a  uno,  R. 

Gen.  xxiv,  3.     'Make  one  swear.' 
CONSUMICION,  n.   Consuncion,  R.  Deut.  vii, 

23.  Sal.— ant. — 

CORNEJAL  (del  altar),  n.  Cuerno.     Acad.  cor- 

«{/a/,punto,angulo  6  esquina  de  colch6n, 

etc. 

COSCOJA,  n.  Hojarasca,  R.  Ex.  v,  12. 
COSCOJAR,  v.  Coger,  R.  Ex.  v,  7.   COSCOGER, 

coger,  R.  Num.  xv,   32.    This  strange 

form  is  of  very  frequent  occurrence. 
COXA,  n.  Pierna  R.  Song  v,  15.     Coja  pierna 

R.  Is.  xlvii,  2.     Acad. — ant.  corva. 
COXEDAD,  n.    Halting,  Jer.  xx,  10.    Acad. — 

ant.  cojera. 
CRISVELO,   n.    Horno,   R.   Kings   i,   viii,   51. 

Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii.    Acad. — ant.  candil. 
CUERO,  n.  Tez,  R.  Ex.  xxxiv,  30. 
CULEBRO,  n.    Serpiente  R.  Gen,  iii,  i.     Bibl. 

Esp.   Ivii    culuebro.     Acad. — ant.  cule- 

bra. 

CULPARSE,  v.  Haber  pecado,  R.  Lev.  v,  3. 
CUYDADO,  n.  Consejo,  R.  Prov.  v,  2. 

CH. 

CHARAMELA,    n.     Flauta,    R.   Sam.    i,   x,  5. 

Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii   charambela.    Sal. — ant. 

churumbela. 

CHISMERO,  adj.  Murmurador,  R.  Is.  xxix,  24. 
CHRENCHA,  n.  Copete,  R.  Song,  iv,  i.    Same 

as  crencha. 

D. 

DATILAR,   n.    Palma,   R.   Ezek.   xl,    16.     Cf. 


43 


February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


88 


Acad.  datilera  ant.  palma  que  da  por 

fruto  el  datil. 
DECIPAR,  v.   Quebrar,  R.  Is.  xxii,  25.    Pent. 

abgeschnitten.   Acad.  decepar,  ant.  des- 

cepar. 
DECOLGAR,  v.    Colgar,  R.  Hos.  xi,  7.    Acad. 

— ant. — 
DEGOLLAMIENTO,  n.  Sacrifice,  Chron.  2,  xxx> 

17.    Acad. — ant.  degollaci6n. 
DEGOLLEO,-n.  Victima,  R.  Sam.   i,  xxiv,  n. 

DEGOLLIO,  victima,   R.   Gen.   xliii,   16. 

Translation  of  Hebrew  utet>h6a'h  teb- 

ha'h. 

DEMINUIR,  v.  Menoscabar,  R.  Jer.  xlviii,  37. 
DEMPOS,  adv.  Detras,  R.  Song,  ii,  9.     Etym. 

de-\-cmpos. 
DENDE,  prep.  Desde,  R,  Ex.  xviii,  13.     Acad. 

— ant. — 
DEPRENDER,  v.    Aprender,   R.   Deut.   iv,  10. 

Cuervo:  "  Us6se  hasta  el  siglo  xvii." 
DERECHAR,  v.    Ir  a  mano  derecha,  R.  Sam. 

2,  xiv,  19.     See  adtrechar. 
DERECHERO,  adj.  Recto,  R.  Psalms  xxxiii,  i. 

Bibl.  Esp.  Iviii.     Acad. — ant. — 
DEROCCADURA,  n.    Ruina,   R.   Amos  ix,    n. 

Acad.  derrocamiento  ant. — 
DESACORA^ONAR,   v.    Quitar  el   corazon,    R. 

Song.  iv.  9. 
DESAFIUZAR,  v.    Desesperar,  R.  Is.  xvii,   n. 

Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii,  Acad. — ant.  desahuciar. 
DESCENIZAR,   v.    Limpiar  la  ceniza,   R.  Ex. 

xxvii,  3. 
DESCERVIGAR,  v.    Cortar  la  cabeza,  R.   Ex. 

xiii,  13.  Acad. — tocerla  cerviz. 
DESCOBERTURA,  n.  Desnudez,  R.  Gen.  ix,  22. 

Acad. — ant.  descubrimiento. 
DESCOJUNTAR,  v.  Descoyuntar,  R.  Gen.  xxxii, 

25- 

DESERTAMIENTO,  n.  Soledad,  R.  Jer.  xliv,  6. 
DESFIUZARSE,  v.  Dejarse,  R.  Sam.  i,  xxvii,  i. 

Bibl.  Esp.  li,  Acad.  desfiuzar,  ant.  des- 

confiar. 
DESHIJADOR,   adj.   Matador  de  los  hijos,  R. 

Ezek.  xxxvi,  13.     See  deshijar. 
DESHIJAMIENTO,  n.  Orfandad,  R.  Is.  xlvii,  8. 

Blitz,  beroubung  der  kinder. 
DESHIJAR,  v.  Matar  los  hijos,  R.  Ezek.  xxxvi, 

14.     Cast  young  ones.     Gen.  xxxi,   38. 

It  is  a  translation  of  Hebrew  shakhal, 

for  which  Pagn.  gives  abortire. 
DESOLADURA,  n.  Desolation.     Ex.  xxiii,  29. 


DESPARZIDOR,  n.  Ablentador(i.e.  aventador), 

R.  Jer.  li,  2.    See  desparzir. 
DESPARZIR,  v.    (Encender),   R.  Is.  1,  n.=es- 

parcir.     Acad. — ant. — . 
DESPEDREAR,  v.  Despedregar,  R.  Is.  v,  2. 
DESPERTAR  (la  lanca),  v.  Blandear,  R.  Chron. 

i,  xi,  ii. 

DESPESA,  n.  Gasto,  R.  Ezra  vi,  4. 
DESQUE,  adv.  Desde,  R.  Is.  xviii,  2.     Cuervo 

gives  examples  for    it    as  late  as   the 

nineteenth  century. 
DESRAYGAR,  v.    Desjarretar,   R.  Jos.   xi,    6. 

Acad. — ant.  desaraigar,  but  the  first  is 

the  meaning  here. 

DESSEOSSO,  odj.  Mendigo,  R.  Ex.  xxiii,  6. 
DESTAJARSE,  v.  Alejarse,  R.  Is.  xix,  6.  Acad. 

destajar,  ant.  extraviar,  descarriar. 
DESTELLAR  (sangre),   v.    Esparcir,    R.    Lev. 

xvi,  14. 
DESVAINAR,  v.    Sacar  la  espada,  R.  Ex.  xv, 

9.     Acad. — ant.  desenvainar. 
DETARDARSE,  v.  Detenerse,  R.  Gen.  xix,  16. 
DEVORAMIENTO,  n.  Tragamiento,  R.  Is.  ix,  19. 
DEXADURA,  n.  Remision,  R.  Deut.  xv,  i. 
DEZIOCHO,  num.  Diez  y  ocho,  R.  Gen.  xiv,  14. 

DEZISEIS,   diez   y  seis,   R.  Jos.  xix,  22. 

DEZISIETE,  diez  y  siete,  R.  Gen.  viii,  4. 
DIMTNUICION,   n.     Diminucion,    R.   Kings    i, 

vi,  6. 

DOLADIZO,  n.    Esculptura.     See  introduction. 
DOLADURA,  n.   Idolo,   R.  Jud.  iii,  19.     Acad. 

— viruta  que  se  saca  de  la  madera  ace- 

pillandola. 
DOLORIOSO,  adj.    Tentiente  dolor,   R.    Gen. 

xxxiv,  25. 
DORMIMIENTO,  n.    Sueno,  R.  Job.  xxxiii,  15. 

Acad.— ant.  accion  de  dormir. 

E. 

EMBIADURA,  n.  (Cria),  R.  Deut.  xxviii,  4. 
Translation  of  Hebrew  sh^gar.  Primi- 
tivum,  primogenitum  bourn  tuorum  (vel, 
emissio,  aut.  emissum.  i.  quod  primo 
emittitur  et  eiicitur),  Pagn. 

EMBIAMIENTO,  n.  Sending  away,  Ex.  xviii,  2. 

EMBIAR,  v.  Dejar,  R.  xlix,  21.     Let  loose. 

EMBRIAGO,  adj.  Borracho,  R.  Is.  xxv'iii,  3. 
Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii.  Acad — ant.  ebrio. 

ENMADURECER,  v.  (Ser  maduro),  R.  Is.  xviii, 
5.  To  ripen. 

EMMALECEDOR,  adj.  Maligno,  R.  Psalms  xxvi, 


44 


89  February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


90 


5.     Sal.  enmalecer  ant.  enfermar,  but 

this  meaning  is  neither  in  emmalefedor 

nor  in  comolefer;  probably  a  verb  male- 

cer  existed=malear  or  malhacer. 
EMMENTAR,   v.    Record,   Ex.  xx,   24.      Bibl. 

Esp.  Ivii,  ementar.    Cf.  acad.  enmiente, 

ant.  memoria  6  menci6n. 
EMPOS,  adv.  En  pos,  R.  Ex.  xiv,  19.    Acad. — 

ant. — 
EMPOLLA,  n.  Vejiga,  R.  Ex.  ix,   10.    Etym.= 

Ampolla. 
EMPUES,  adv.  Despues,  R.  Gen.  v.  19.    Bibl. 

Esp.  Ivii.     Sal. — ant. — 
ENALTECEDOR,  n.  Ensalzador,  R.  Psalms  ix, 

14. 
ENCAMINADERO,    n.    Azel     Itinerarius :    vel 

potins  Iter  vel  Itio.  i  Sam  20,   19.     Vel 

Lapis  haazel.  /  qui  est  signum  transeun- 

tibus  per  viam.     Pagn.    Reyna   leaves 

the    Hebrew    untranslated    and    writes 

Ezel. 
ENCARCOMERSE,  v.    Podrir,   R.   Prov.  x,    7. 

Etym.  i?«+verb  from  carcoma. 
ENCASTILLADURA,  n.  Ciudad  fuerte,  R.  Num. 

xxxii,  17. 

ENCAUAR,  v.  Imprint,  Lev.  xix,  28. 
ENCENCARIO,  n.  Incensario,  R.  Lev.  x,  i. 
ENCENDEDURA,    n.    Lo    quemado,    R.    Ex. 

xxii,  6. 

ENCIENC/O,  n.  Encienso,  R.  Ex.  xxx,  34. 
ENCINTAMIENTO,  n.    Prefiez,  R.  Gen.  iii,   16. 

See  encintarse. 
ENCINTARSE,  v.  Concebir,  R.  Gen.  iv,  i.    Cf. 

Sal.  encinta,   que  se  dice  de  la  mujer 

prenada. 
ENCOBERTURA,  n.  Escondedero,    R.  .Psalms 

Ixi,,  5. 
ENCOMENDANCA,  n.  Mandamiento,   R.  Gen. 

xxvi,  5. 
ENCONAMIENTO,  n.   Suciedad,  R.  i,   xv,   12. 

In  other  places  the  same  Hebrew  word 

is  translated  by  boniga,  q.  v. 
ENCORONADERO,  adj.   Coronado,  R.  Is.  xxiii, 

8. 
ENCORONAR,  v.    Coronar,  R.  Psalms  viii,  5. 

Cf.  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii  encoranar,  rodear. 
ENDURAR,   v.    (Agravar),   R.  Chron.  2,  x,  4. 
It  means   'to  make  last,'  cf.  Sal. — ant. 
hacer  durar. 

ENDURESCERSE,  v.  Haber  trabajoen  su  parto, 
R.  Gen.  xxxv,  16.  Fortificarse,  R.  Jud. 
iv,  24, 


ENFAMBRESCER,  v.  Hacer  haber  hambre,  R. 

Deut.  viii,  3. 

ENFAMBRESCERSE,  v.  Haber  hambre,  R.  Gen. 
xli,  55.  Cf.  Sal.  enfambrecer,  ant.  pa- 
decer  hambre. 

ENFIURIARSE,  v.  Asegurarse,  R.Jud.  ix,  26. 
ENFORTESCERSE,  v.  Ser  mas  fuerte,  R.  Gen. 

xxv,  23. 
ENGENDRADOR,  n.  Progenitor,  R.  Gen.  xlix, 

26.    Acad.— ant.— 
ENGLUTIR,  v.    Tragar,  R.  Gen.  xli,  7.   Acad. 

— ant.  engullir. 

ENGRACIAR,  v.  Tomar  en  merced,  R.  Deut. 
vii,  2.    Acad.— ant.    agradar,    caer   en 
gracia. 
ENGRANDESCER,  v.  Crecer,  R.  Gen.  xxxviii, 

ii. 
ENGRAVECERSE,   v.    Ser  agravado,  R.  Gen. 

xlviii,  10. 
ENGROSAMIENTO,  n.  De — ,  engordado,  R.  Jer. 

xlvi,  21. 
ENLOSAMIENTO,  n.   Solado,  R.  Song,  iii,  10. 

Cf.  Acad.  enlosar. 

ENREYNAR,  v.  Reynar,  R.  Jos.  xiii,  10. 
ENSANADERA,  n.  (Cuervo  marino),  R.  Lev.  xi, 
19.     Translation  of   Hebrew   'anaphah 
Nomen  auis  quam  alii  Picam,  alii  Mil. 
uum  appellant,  Pagn.,  but  under  'anoph 
which  is  the  stem  of  this  word,  he  gives 
Irasci,  which  explains  the  formation  of 
the  word. 
ENTAJADURA,  n.  Grabadura,  R.  Ex.  xxviii,  n. 

See  entajar. 
ENTAJAR,  v.  Grabar,  R.  Ex.  xxviii,  9.    Etym. 

=entallar. 
ENTARTAMUDESCIDO,  part.  De  lengua  tarta- 

muda,  R.  Is.  xxxiii,  19. 
ENTEGRAR,    v.    Entregar,   R.    Gen.  xiv,  20. 

Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii. 
ENTROPIE^O,  n.    Lazo,  R.  Ex.  x,  7.    Acad. — 

ant.  tropezon. 

ENVOLUNTAR,   v.    Take  upon  oneself,    Gen. 
xviii,   31.     Dar  de  su  voluntad,  R.  Ex. 
xxv,  2. 
ENXABIDO,  adj.  Desabrido,  R.  Job  vi,  6.  Etym: 

Lat.  insapidus,  given  in  Koerting. 
ENXAGUAR,  v.    Rinse,   Lev.    vi,    28.     Sal. — 

ant.  enjuagar. 
ENXAL^AMIENTO,  n.  Dignidad,  R.  Gen.  xlix, 
3.     Bibl.   Esp.   Ivii  enxaltamiento,  ex- 
altacion. 


45 


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92 


ERESCER,  v.  Anger,  Gen.  iv,  5.  The  connec- 
tion of  this  word  with  ercer,  ergir,  etc., 
levantar  is  not  apparent  to  me  ;  prob- 
ably it  is  to  be  connected  with  erizar ; 
yet  the  following  word  seems  to  indicate 
that  it  really  means  '  to  rise.' 

ERESCIMIENTO  (de  furor),  n.  Great  anger. 
Ex.  xi,  8.  See  erescer. 

ERRADA,  n.  Ramera,  R.  Gen.  xxxiv,  31. 

ERRAMIENTO,  n.  Confusion,  R.  Micah  vii,  4. 

ERRAR,  v.    Fornicar,  R.  Lev.  xix,  29. 

ESCALENTARSE,  v.  Grow  warm,  Gen.  xviii,  i. 
Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii.  Acad. — ant.  calentarse. 

ESCALLENTARSE,  v.  Calentarse,  R.  Gen.  xxx, 
38.  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii. 

ESCANCIANIA,  n.  Oficio  (del  maestresala),  R. 
Gen.  xl,  22.  Vaso  de  escanciania,  vaso 
de  beber,  R.  Kings  i,  x,  21. 

ESCAPADIZO,  n.  Uno  que  escap6,  R.  Gen. 
xiv,  13. 

ESCAPADURA,  n.  Escape,  Gen.  xxxii,  8. 

ESCARNIDOR,  adj.  Escarnecedor,  R.  Is.  xxix, 
20.  Acad. — ant. — 

ESOGEDURA,  n.  Choice,  Gen.  xxiii,  6.  Es- 
COGIDURA,  the  chosen  ones,  Ex.  xv,  4. 

ESCONDEDIJO,  n.  Escondedero,  R.  Is.  xxxii, 
2. 

ESCONJURAR,  v.  Conjurar,  R.  Chron.  2,  xviii, 

15- 
ESCOPETINA,   n.   Saliva,   R.   Is.   1,   6.     Acad. 

escupitina  fam.  escupidura. 
ESCOSSEDAD,  n.  Virginidad,  R.  Dent,  xxii,  14. 

Cf.  Acad.  escosa,  provincial  de  Asturia, 

aplicase  a  la  hembra  de  cualquier  ani- 
mal dom^stico  que  deja  de  dar  leche. 

The  etymology  is  probably  Lat.  excussa, 

shaken  out,  i.e.,  the  udder. 
ESCUCHAMIENTO,   n.    Sentido,    R.    Kings    2, 

iv,  31. 
ESCUENTRA,   prep,    delante,   R.   Gen.   ii,  18. 

Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii  escontra. 
ESCULCA,  n.   Espion,  R.  Gen.  xlii,  n.     Bibl. 

Esp.  li.    Acad. — ant.  espia. 
ESCULCAMIENTO,  n.  Lo  oculto,  R.  Job.  xxxix, 

n. 
ESCULPIDURA,  n.  Figura,  R.  Chron.  2,  ii,  7. 

Acad. — ant.  grabadura. 
ESCULPIMIENTO,  n.  Entalladura,  R.  Kings,  i, 

vi,  18. 

ESCURESCERSE,  v.  Oscurecerse,  Gen.  xxvii,  i. 
ESCURO,  adj.  Oscuro,  Lev.  xiii,  21. 


ESECUTACION,  n.  Visitacion,  R.  Num.  xvi,  29. 
ESECUTAR,  v.  Visitar,  R.  Num.  xvi,  29. 
ESMOVERSE,  v.    Huir,  R.  Gen.   xxxi,  40.     7r, 

R.  Jud.  ix,  9. 

ESMOVIDO,  adj.  Vagabundo,  R.  Gen.  iv,  12. 
ESMOVIMIENTO,  n.  Estremecimiento,  R.  Deut. 

xxviii,  25.     Translation  of  Hebrew  za'- 

harah  commotio  Pagn. 
ESPACIAR,  v.    (Tener  refrigerio),  R.  Sam.    i, 

xvi,  23.     Pent,  derkwiken.     Cf.  Acad. 

cspacio,  ant.  recreo. 
ESPANDIDURA,  n.   Estendimiento,  R.  G«n.  i, 

6.     Sal.  espandir,  ant.  extender. 
ESPARTIDURA,  n.  Mitad,  R.  Gen.  xv,  17.     Di- 
vision.    See  espartir. 
ESPARTIMIENTO,  n.    Division.  R.  Jud.  v,  15. 

See  espartir. 

ESPARTIR,  v.   Repartir,  R.  Gen.  ii,  10. 
ESPARZIDERA,    n.     Bacin,    R.    Ex.    xxvii,    3. 

Translation  of  Hebrew  mizraq.     Vas  ex 

quo  spargitur,  aqua  aut  sanguis,  vel  vi- 

num    from    zaraq    spargere,    aspergere 

Pagn. 
ESPAVORECERSE,  v.  Estar  temeroso,  R.  Deut. 

xxviii,  66. 

ESPERIMENTAR,  v.  Tentar,  R.  Ex.  xv,  25. 
ESPICA   ROMANA,   n.     Canafistula,    R.    Ezek. 

xxvii,    19.      I   am  unable    to    ascertain 

why  the   '  spikenard '   which  seems    to 

be  meant  here  is  called  '  Roman.' 
ESPINAL,  n.  Zarzal,  R.  Is.  vii,  19. 
ESPIRITO,  n.    Espiritu,  R.  Gen.  vi,  3.     As  a 

rule  the  form  espiritu  is  used. 
ESPREMIR,  v.  Hollar,  R.  Mai.  iv,  3. 
ESVAYNAR,  v.  Sacar  la  espada,  R.  Jud.  ix,  54. 

See  desvaynar. 

ESTAJAR,  v.  Cubrir,  R.  Lament,  iii,  44.     Prob- 
ably to  be  connected  with  tejar  cubrir. 
ESTANCIA,  n.   Titulo  (the  later  editions  have 

pillar),  R.  Gen.  xxxv,  14. 
ESTATUA,  n.  Stature,  Lev.  xxvi,  13. 
ESTELLAR,  v.  Esparcir,  R.  Ex.  xxix,  21.    See 

destellar. 
ESTENDIMIENTO,  n.  Obra  extendida,  R.  Kings 

i,  vii,  29. 
ESTONCES,    adv.     Entonces,    R.    Ex.   iv,    10. 

Acad. — ant. — 
ESTRADAR,  v.   Spread,  Is.  xiv,  n.     Formed 

from  estrado. 
ESTRANEDAD,  n.  Dioses  de — ,  Dioses  agenos, 

R.  Gen.  xxxv,  2. 


46 


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94 


ESTREMICION,  n.    Estremecimiento,  R.  Gen. 

xxvii,  33. 
ESTRENAMIENTO,  n.  Dedication,  R.  Ezra,  vi, 

16. 
ESTROMPECAR,  v.    Trompezar  (i.e.  tropezar), 

R.  Deut.  vii,  25. 
ESTROMPIECO,  n.  Trompezon,  (i.  e.  tropezon), 

R.  Deut.  vii,  16. 
.ESTRUMENTO,    n.     Instrumento,    R.    Psalms 

Ixxi,  22.     Armas,  R.   Chron.   i,  xii,  33. 

Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii  estrument.    Sal. — ant. — 
ESTUCIARSE,   v.    Consultar  astutamente,    R. 

Psalms    Ixxxiii,    4.     Probably    misprint 

for  astuciarse. 
ESTULTAR,  v.  Castigar,  R.  Zach.  iii,  2.     Pent. 

anschreien.      The    meaning,    to   judge 

from  its  deriviation  from  estulto,  seems 

to  be  '  to  call  names.' 
EXEMPLAR,  v.   Ser  proverbiador,  hacer  pro- 

verbio,  R.  Ezek.  xvi,  44. 
EXEMPLO,  n.  Parabola,  R.  Prov.  x. 
EXTRINSICO  (patio),  adj.  (Patio)  de  afuera.   R. 

Ezek.  xlii,  3. 

F. 

FACE,  n.  Monton,  R.  Ex.  xxii,  6.     Cf.  Acad. 

haza  ant.  monton. 
FALSAR,  v.   'Faltar,    R.    Ex.  viii,  29.  Esp.  1i, 

Ivii.    Acad. — ant.  falsear. 
FARROPEA,  n.  Cadena,  R.  Jud.  xvi,  21.     Bibl. 

Esp.  Ivii.    Acad. — provincial  de  Asturia, 

arropea. 
FAXINA,   n.    Monton  de  trigo,   R.  Job.  v,  26. 

See  Acad.  hacina.  , 

FERRUGEN,  n.  Orin,  R,  Is.  xl,  15.     Etym.  Lat. 

ferruginem. 
FIEZ,  n.  Liquido,  R.  Is.  xxv,  6.     Blitz  anthej- 

wenter  wajn.     Cf.  Acad.  fez  ant.  hez. 
FIRMAMENTO,,  n.    Alianza,   R.   Ex.   xxiii,  32. 

FIRMAMIENTO,   concierto,   R.   Gen.   vi, 

IS. 
FIUZIA,   n.    Boldness,  Gen.  xxxiv,  25.     Bibl. 

Esp.  li.    Acad. — ant.  fiducia. 
FLASCO,  n.  Barril,  R.  Sam.  2,  vi,  19.     Same 

asfrasco. 
FONSADO,  n.  Host,  Gen.  ii,  i.     Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii. 

Acad. — ant.  ejercito,  hueste. 
FORTEZA,  n.  Fortaleza,  R.  Dan.  iv,  27. 
FRAGUAR,   v.  Edificar,  R.  Gen.  ii,  22.     Used 

in    the    general    sense   of    'building,' 

whether  of  iron,  stone  or  wood. 


FRUCHIGOSO,  adj.  Fructifero,  R.  Gen.  xlix,22. 

FRUCHIGUOSO,  fertil,   R.  Is.  xxxii,  12. 

See  fruchiguar. 
FRUCHIGUAR,  v.  Multiplicar,  R.  Gen.  xxii,  17. 

Popular   form  of  fructificar,  which    is 

given  Hos.  iv,  10. 
FUERO,   n.    Estatuto,  R.  Ex.  xv,  25.    Tarea, 

R.    Ex.    v,  14.      Racion    (portion)    R. 

Gen.  xlvii,  22. 
FUESSA,  n.  Sepultura,  R.  Gen.  xxiii,  4.   Acad- 

— ant. — 
FUNDAGE,    n.    Translation    of   Hebrew  she"- 

martm.     Faeces  quae  seruantur  in  imo 

vasis  Et  Defaecata  i.  a  faecibus  purgata. 

Is.  xxv,  6.     Connected  with /«»</<?. 

G. 
GALLOMONTES,  n.   Abubilla,  R.  Lev.  xi,  19. 

Translation  of  Hebrew  dukhiphath  Gal- 

lina  siluestris,  Pagn. 
GAVILLAR,    v.    Hacer   gavillas,    R.    Psalms. 

cxxix,  7. 
GENELOSIA,  n.    Genealogia,  R.  Ezra,  viii,  3. 

Sal. — ant.  vulg. — 
GENELOSIAR,  v.    Contar  por  primogenitura, 

R.  Chron.  i,  v,  i.    See  genelosia. 
GENERANCIO,  n.   Generacion,  R.  vi,  5.     Oc- 
casionally generation  occurs.  This  form 

is  to  be  explained  as  passing  to  the  large 

class  of  words  in  io ;  the  introduction 

of  n  is  probably  due  to  analogy  with 

the  numerous  words  in  ancia. 
GORGERA,  n.  Escudo,  R.  Sam.  i,  xvii,  6.     Du 

Cange    has :    gorgeria,   armatura    qua 

guttur  tegitur.      Gal.  gorgerin,  paucis 

gorgerie. 
GRAVEZA,  n.  Peso,  R.  Is.  xxi,   15.    Bibl.  Esp. 

li.    Acad. — ant.  gravedad. 
GUARDIA,   n.    Observancia,   R.  Gen.  xxvi,  5. 

Translation  of  Hebrew  vayishm6rmish- 

marti,  guard6  mi  guardia. 
GUSANEAR,  v.   Criar  gusanos,  R.  Ex.  xvi,  20. 

H. 
HECHA,  n.   Obra,  R.  Jer.  li,  io.    Acad. — ant. 

hecho. 
HERMOLLESCER,  v.   Producir  yerba,  R.  Gen. 

i,    ii.    Translation  of   Hebrew  tadshe" 

deshe'.     See  hermollo. 
HERMOLLO,  n.    Yerba,  R.  Gen.  i,  n.     Etym. 

Lat.  germen. 
HIGO-SOSO,  n.  Cabrahigo,  R.  Kings  i,  x,  27. 


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96 


HIGO-SOXO  R.    Amos    vii,   14.      HIGO- 

soco,   higueral,   R.  Chron  i,  xxvii,  28. 

For  etymology  see  soso. 
HINOJO,  n.  Pierna,  R.  Ex.  xxix,  17.     Acad. — 

ant.  rodilla. 

HORNALLA,  n.  Chimenea,  R.  Lev.  xi,  35. 
HOSTALERA  (mujer),  adj.     Ramera,  R.  Kings, 

i,  iii,  16.    Acad. — ant.  mesonera. 

I. 

INMUNDARSE,  v.  Ser  inmundo,  R.  Lev.  xii,  2. 
INTENIR,  v.  Tenir,  R.  gen.  xxxvii,  31. 
INTRINSICO,  adj.  La  casa  la  intrinsica,  la  casa 

de  dentro,  R.  Kings  i,  vi,  27. 

J. 
JURA,  n.  Juramento,  R.  Gen.  xxiv,  41.     Acad. 

— ant. — 

L.. 

LABRIO,   n.    Lip,    Ex.   vi,    i2.=/fl£/0.      Bibl. 

Esp.  Ivii. 
LAMPAROSO,  adj.  Teniente  sarna,  R.  Lev.xxi, 

20.     Cf.  Acad.  lampardn,  escrofulla  en 

el  cuello. 
LAPA,  n.  Cueva,  R.  Gen.  xxiii,  9.     Cf.  Port. 

lapa ;    for    etymology    see    Dietz    and 

Korting. 
LASSARSE,  v.  Cansarse,  R.  Jud.  iv,  21.    Acad. 

— ant. — 
LAZERAR,  v.  Trabajar,  R.  Jos.  xxiv,  13.  LAZ- 

RAR  elsewhere.     Acad.  lazrar,  padecer 

y  sufrir  trabajos  y  miserias. 
LAZERIO,   n.    Trabajo,   R.   Gen.  v,   29.     See 

lazerar.     Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii. 
LEMUNO,  n.  Luto,  R.  Gen.  xlix,  10.     LLEMUN- 

HO,  R.  Gen.  xxvii,  41.     Du  Cange  gives 

lemines,  exsequiae.     I  cannot  ascertain 

the  etymology. 

LENO  LOE,  n.  Aloes,  R.  Prov.  vii,  17. 
LIGADERO,  n.  Bundle,  Sam.  i,  xxv,  29. 
LIMPIEZA,  n.  Expiacion,  R.  Ex.  xxix,  14. 

Translation  of   Hebrew   'hata'th    from 

hata'  expiare,  mundare,  Pagn. 
LINA,  n.  Regla,  R.  Is.  xliv,  i3.=tinea. 
LISTA,  n.  Redecilla,  R.  Is.  iii,  18. 
LUMBRAL,  n.    Poste,  R.  Ex.  xii,  7.    UMBRAL, 

Ex.  xxi,  6.     In  the  Bible  lumbral  (um- 

bral)  always  means  doorpost. 
LUNAR,  n.  Luneta,  R.  Is.  iii,  18. 
LUSTROR  (de  la  espada),  n.  Espada  reluciente, 

R.  Deut.  xxxii,  41. 


LLAMADURA,  n.  Convocacion,  R.  Ex.  xii,  16. 

M. 

MACHINA,  n.  Reina,  R.  Jer.  xliv,  18.  The 
queen  of  stars  is  meant,  and  I  am  not 
able  to  ascertain  the  origin  of  the  word; 
perhaps  it  is  matutina^iYm  morning  star. ' 

MAGREZA,  n.  Flaqueza,  R.  Is.  x,  16.  Acad. 
— ant.  magrez. 

MALDICHO,  part.  Maldito,  R.  Gen.  xlix,  7. 
Acad. — ant. — 

MALFECHORIA,  n.  Maldad,  R.  Lev.  xix,  29. 

MALINIDAD,  n.  Iniquidad,  R.  Is.  i,  16.  See 
malino. 

MALINO,  adj.  R.  Is.  i,  ^.—maligno. 

MAMPARANCA,  n.  Pabellon,  R.  Ex.  xxvi,  36. 
Same  as  amparanfa,  q.  v. 

MANANTIO,  n.  Flujo,  R.  Lev.  xv,  32.  Acad. 
— ant.  que  mana. 

MANCEBEZ,  n.  Juventud,  R.  Psalms  Ixxxix, 
45.  Sal. — ant. — 

MANDRAGOLA,  n.  Mandragora,  R.  Gen,  xxx,i4. 

MANIERAR,  v.  Temblar,  R.  Is.  x,  29.  ? 

MANIR,  v.  Quedar,  R.  Ex.  xxiii,  18. 

MANERA,  adj,  EsteYil,  R.  Gen.  xi,  30.  Acad. 
— ant.  machorra. 

MARUECO  (Macho),  R.  Gen.  xxxi,  10.  Trans- 
lation of  Hebrew  'hatudim.  Hirci 
maiores,  qui  praecedunt  capras.  Pagn. 
This  form  for  morueco,  makes  Diez's 
derivation  from  Lat.  mas  more  probable 
than  Korting's  from  Moro ;  yet  the 
form  MORRUECO  occurs  Num.  vii,  17. 

MAYORAL,  n.  Principe,  R.  Gen.  xii,  15.  Acad. 
— ant. — 

MAYORGARSE,  v.  Prevalecer,  R.  Gen.  vii,  18. 
Verb  derived  from  mayor.  ^* 

MAGAJA,  n.  (Dinero),  R.  Sam.  i,  ii,  36.  Pagn. 
obolus.  Same  as  migaja. 

MELEZINA,  n.  Medicina,  R.  Jer.  viii,  22.  For 
change  of  d  to  /  see  calabrina.  Bibl. 
Esp.  Ivii. 

MELEZINADOR,  adj.  Sanador,  R.  Ex.  xv,  26. 
See  melezina. 

MELEZINAR,  v.  Sanar,  R.  Gen.  xx,  17.  See 
melezina. 

MEMBRACION,  n.  Memorial,  R.  Ex.  iii,  15. 

MEMBRAN^A,  n.  Memoria,  R.  Ex.  xii,  14. 
Acad. — ant. — 

MEMBRAR,   v.    Acordarse,    R.    Gen.    viii,    i. 


48 


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98 


Acad.  membrarse,  ant. — 

MEOLLERA,  n.  Mollera,  R.  Gen.  xlix,  26. 

MERIDION,  n.  Mediodia,  R.  Gen.  xiii,  i. 
Acad. — ant. — 

MERIN,  ?,  n.  Amargo,  R.  Deut.  xxxii,  24. 
The  J.  G.  translations  leave  the  Hebrew 
mertri  untranslated ;  hence  it  is,  per- 
haps, a  misprint  for  meriri ;  if  not  it  is 
to  be  connected  with  Lat.  amarum. 

MESADURA,  n.  Calva,  R.  Lev.  xi,  5. 

MESONERA,  n.  Ramera,  R.  Jos.  ii,  i. 

MESTURERO,  adj.  El  que  chismea,  R.  Lev 
xix,  6.  Bibl.  Esp.  li-lvii.  Acad. — ant. 
que  descubria,  etc.,  el  secreto. 

MILLARIA,  n.  Diez  mil,  R.  Lev.  xxvi,  8. 

MIRADERO,  n.  Ventana,  R.  Kings  i,  vii,  4. 

MISMEDAD  (del  dia),  n.  Este  mismo  dia  R. 
Lev.  xxiii,  14.  Translation  of  Hebrew 
'hezem  hay6m. 

MORADIZO,  n.  Advenedizo,  R.  Gen.  xxiii,  4. 

MOVIDA,  n.  Jornada,  R.  Ex.  xvii,  i. 

MOVIDO,  n.  Vagabundo,  R.  Gen.  iv,  12. 

MOYLLAR,  v.  Bramar,  R.  Jer.  li,  38.  Same  as 
maullar. 

MUCHIGUAR,  v.  Multiplicar,  R.  Gen.  i,  22. 
The  popular  form  of  multiplicar  which 
occurs  side  by  side  with  it  in  Jer.  xxx, 
19.  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii. 

MUDADERA,  n.  Ropa  de  muda,  R.  Is.  iii,  22. 
Cf.  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii,  mudadura. 

MULLAR,  n.  Tuetano,  R.  Is.  xxv.  6.  Of  the 
same  origin  as  meollera. 

MUNDAR,  v.    Expiar.    Ezek.    xlv,    20.     From 
Lat.  mundarc ;  see  Korting. 
N. 

NADEAR  (nada),  v.  Desvanecer  con  vanedad, 
R.  Job.  xxvii,  12.  Translation  of  He- 
brew hebhel  tehbalu. 

NICOLO,  n.  Onyx,  Ex.  xxv,  7.  Cf.  Low  Lat. 
nichilus,  and  Span,  nicle. 

NIERVO,  n.  Nervio,  R.  Gen.  xxxii,  32.  Acad. 
— ant. — 

NOVIEDAD,  n.  Desposorio,  R.  Jer.  ii,  2. 
O. 

OCHAVO,  adj.  Octavo,  R.  Ex.  xx,  30.  Acad. 
— ant. — 

OJEAR,  v.  Mirar  de  travel,  R.  Sam.  i,  xviii,  9. 

OREJAL,  n.  Zarcillo,  R.  Is.  iii,  20. 

ORNAMIENTO,  n.  Atavios,  R.  Ex.  xxxiii,  4. 

OTORGAR,  v.  Celebrar,  R.    Psalms  Ixxxix,  5. 


OYDA,  n.  Nuevas,  R.  Gen.  xxix,  13.  Trans- 
lation of  Hebrew  khishm6'ha  et  sh£m- 
'ha. 

OYNA,  n.  Endecha,  R.  Ezek.  xix,  i. 

OYNADERA,  n.  Endechadera,  R.  Jer.  ix,  17. 
See  oyna. 

OYNAR,  v.  Endechar,  R.  Jud.  xi,  57.  See 
oyna. 

P. 

PASCUA,  n.  Fiesta,  R.  Ex.  xxiii,  16. 
PASCUAR,  v.  Celebrar  fiesta,  R.  Ex.  v,  i. 
PASSEAMIENTO,  n.  Going,  Sam.  2,  v,  24. 
PECHAR,  v.   Dar  presente,  R.  Ezek.  xvi,  33. 

Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii. 

PECHORAL,  n.  Pectoral,  R.  Ex.  xxxv,  9. 
PEDRISCADO,     adj.     Overo,     R.    Zac.    vi,    3. 

Formed   from  pedrisco,  hence  '  speck- 
led.' 

PELEGRINAR,  v.  Peregrinar,  R.  Gen.  xii,  10. 
PENDOLA,   n.    Cincel,    R.  Jud.    v,    14.      Pen. 

Bibl.  Esp.  li-lvii pendola,  pluma. 
PENORAR,  v.  Tomar  prenda,  R.  Deut.  xxiv,  6. 

Acad. — ant.  pignorar. 
PERCANTO,  n.  Sin  percanto,  no  encantado,  R. 

Eccl.  x,  n. 

PERDONANCA,  n.    Expiaci6n,  R.  Ex.  xxix,  36. 
PERDONAR,  v.  Espiar,  R.  Ex.  xxix,  36. 
PERFUNDARSE,  v.  Profundum  petere  (Pagn.), 

Is.  vii,  ii. 

PESGADO,  adj.  Grave,  R.  Gen.  xii,  10. 
PESQUERIR,    v.     Buscar,     R.    Lev.    xiii,    36. 

Acad.— ant.  perquirir.     Bibl.  Esp.  li. 
PESTANUDO,  adj.    The  J.  G.  translations  give 

for  the  Hebrew  gibh£n  di    mtn.     Bre- 
men zajnen  ganz  lang, 'the    hair    (lit. 

eyebrows)  of  the  loins  are  long.' 
PIADAR,  v.  Perdonar,  R.  Lament,  ii,  21.     Cf. 

apiadar. 
PICON,  n.    Martillo,  R.   Kings  i,  vi,  7.    Same 

as  pico. 
PIELAGO,  n.v  Manadero,  R.  Sam.  2,  xxii,  16. 

Acad. — ant.  estanque. 
PLENisMiDAD.n.  Entereza,  R.  Gen.  xx,  6.  See 

plemsmo. 
PLENISMO,   adj.    Perfecto,   R.    Gen.   vi,    9.= 

plenisimo. 
PLOMBINA,  n.  Plomo,  R.  13.28,17.     Plummet. 

Plomina,  R.  Kings  2,  xxi,  13. 
POBLADOR,  adj.  Habitador,  R.  Psalms  xxx,  8. 
PODESTADOR,  n.  Senor,  R.  Gen.  xiii,  6. 


49 


99 


February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2.  100 


PODESTANIA,  n.   Dominion,  rule,  Gen.  i,  16. 
PODESTAR,  v.  Sefiorear,  R.  Gen.  i,  18. 
PORPASSAR,  v.  Traspasar,  R.  Num.  xxiv,  13. 
POSSUIR,  v.  Poseer,  R.  Is.  xi,  n. 
POSSUYDOR,  n.  Possessor,  Is.  xli,   15.     See 

Possuir. 
POSTRIMERIO,   adj.    Que    vendra,   R.  Psalms 

xlviii,  13- 
PREAR,  v.  Saquear,  R.  Gen.  xxxiv,  27.   Acad. 

— ant. — 
PRIMERIA,  n.   En  la—,  antes,  R.  Gen.  xiii,  4. 

Acad. — ant.  principio.     Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii. 
PRODUZIMIENTO,  n.  Production,  Is.  xxxiv,  i. 

Acad. — ant.  producci6n. 
PROFUNDARSE,  v.  Esconderse,  R.  Jer.  xlix,  8. 
PROFUNDINA,  n.  Profundo,  R.  Ex.  xv,  5. 
PSALMEAMIENTO,  n.  Cantico,  R.  Sam.  2,  xxiii, 

i. 
PSALMEAR,  v.  Cantar,  R.  Sam.  2,  xxii,  50. 

Q. 

QUATREGUA,  n.  Carro,  R.  Gen.  xli,  43.  Acad. 

cuatrega,  ant.  cuadriga. 
QUATROPEA,  n.  Bestia,  R.  Gen.  i,  24.     Acad. 

cuatropea,  ant. — .   Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii. 
QUEBRANTARSE,  v.    Humillarse,  R.  Ex.  x,  3. 
QUERELLARSE,  v.  Murmurar,  R.  Ex.  xv,  24. 
QUERENCIA,  n.    Amor,  R.    Ezek.    xxiii,    17. 

Acad. — ant. — 
QUIETE,  adj.    Sin  culpa,  R.  Prov.  xxviii,  20. 

Same  as  quieto. 
QUINTEADO,     adj.     De    cinco    esquinas,    R. 

Kings  i,  vi,  31. 
QuiTAN£A,    n.     Repudio,    R.    Is.    1,  i.      See 

guitar . 

QUITAR,  v.  Absolver,  R.  Ex.  xxxiv,  7. 
QUITE,  adj.  Absuelto,  R.  Ex.  xxi,   19.    Same 

as  quito. 
QUITO,  adj.  Repudiado,  R.  Lev.  xxi,  7. 

R. 

RABDON,  n.   Turbion,  R.  Is.  xxv,  4.     Flujo, 

R.    Ezek,    xxiii,  20.     Etym.  from  Lat. 

rapidus. 
RAMADA,  n.  Enramada,  R.  Jer.  iv,  7.    Acad. 

— ant. — 

RAYGABLE,  adj.  Natural,  R.  Num.  xv,  29. 
RAZONADOR,  n.  Arbitro.  R.  Job.  ix,  33.  Acad. 

— ant.  el  que  aboga. 
RAZONAR,  v.  Juzgar,  R.  Gen.  xxxi,  37.   Acad. 

— ant.  decir  en  derecho,  abogar. 
REAL,  n.  Cuadrillo,  R.  Gen.  xxxii,  7.    This 


word  is  exclusively  used  for  '  camp.' 

REBELLADOR,  n.  Rebelde,  R.  Num.  xx,  10. 
see  rebellar. 

REBELLAR,  v.  Levantarse,  R.  Gen.  xiv,  4. 
Sal. — ant.  ser  rebelde. 

REBELLO,  n.  Fraude,  R.  Ex.  xxii,  9.  Tres- 
pass. 

RE^EBIBLE,  adj.  Delightful,  Gen.  viii,  21. 

RECONTAR,  v.  Contar,  R.  Gen.  xxiv,  66.  Re- 
late. 

RECUA,  n.  Compania  (of  men),  R.  Gen.  xxxvii, 

25- 

REDIFICAR,  v.  Reedificar,  R.  Ezra,  v,  n. 
REGADIZO,  adj.  Well  watered,  Gen  xiii,  10. 
REGISTRO,  n.    Confusion,   R.  Sam.  i,  xx,  30. 
REHOLLADURA,  n.  Robo,  R.  Kings  2,  xxi,  14. 

See  rehollar. 

REHOLLAR,  v.  Robar,  R.  Jud.  ii,  14. 
RELUZIAR,   v.    Aguzar,   R.  Sam.   i,  xiii,  20. 

Resplandecer,  R.  Dan.  x,  6. 
RELUZIR,  v.  Acicalor,  R.  Lev.  vi,  28. 
REMIDOR,  ?,  n.   This  form  occurs  so  often  in 

Num.  xxxv  and  elsewhere  for  the  usual 

form  redemidor(\.e.  redentor)  that  it  can 

hardly  be  a  misprint. 
REMOJADURA,  n.  Licor,  R.  Num.  vi,  2. 
REMOVER,  v.  Creep. 
REMOVIBLE,  n.    Reptil,  R.  Lev.  xi,  10.    See 

introduction. 
REMOVILLA,    n.    Serpiente,    R.    Gen.    i,    24. 

Creeping  thing. 

RENUEVO,  n.  Cosecho,  R.  Ex.  xxiii,  10. 
REPUDIO,   n.    Verguenza,   R.   Gen.   xxx,    23. 

Reproach. 

REQUESTA,  n.  Demanda,  R.  Esth.  vii,  2. 
REREDROJO,   n.     Que  nace  de  suyo,   R.  Is. 

xxxvii,  30.     Etym.  re-\-redrojo. 
RESCOBDO,   n.    Grada,   R.  Chron.   2,  ix,    n. 

Recostadero,  R.  Song  i,  12.     Prob"ably 

same  as  recodo. 
RESFUYR,   v.    Titubear,   R.   Sam.   2,   xx,  37. 

Same  as  rehuir. 
RESPONSO,  n.    Respuesta,  R.  Ex.   xxxii,   18. 

Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii. 
RESPOSAR,  v.  Tomar  refrigerio,  R.  Ex.  xxiii, 

i2.=reposar. 

RETENIDERA,  n.  Cimbalo,  R.  Sam.  2,  vi,  5. 
RETRAVAR,    v.     Entretejer,    R.    Nah.    i,    10. 

Etym.  re-\-trabar. 

RUGIDOR,  adj.  Alborotador,  R.  Prov.  ix,  13. 
RUGIDERA,  n.  Mormollo,  R.  Prov.  i,  21. 


ioi         February,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


102 


RUMIO,  n.  Cud.  Lev.  xi,  3. 

S. 

SALIDURA,  n.    Lo  que  sale,  R.  Deut.  xxiii,  23. 
SANADURA,  n.  Sanidad,  R.  Lev.  xiii,  10. 
SARTAL,  n.  Collar,  R.  Prov.  i,  9. 
SCIENTE,  adj.  Docto,  R.  Job  xxxiv,  2.     Acad. 

— ant. — 
SECA,  n.   Dry  land  (R.  has  also  la  seca),  Gen. 

i.  9- 

SECUTAR,  v.  Visitar,  R.  Ex.  xxxiv,  7.  Sal. — 
ant.  ejecutar.  Bibl.  Esp.  li,  seaitarse. 

SEGUNDAMIENTO,  n.  Segundo,  Ley,  R.  Deut. 
xvii,  18.  Repetition. 

SENTENCIADOR,  n.  Adivino,  R.  Dan.  ii,  27. 

SEQUIOSO,  adj.  Teniente  sed,  R.Sam.  2,  xvii, 
29.  Adjective  formed  from  sequia. 

SERPER,  v.  Creep,  Gen.  vii,  21.  Translation 
of  Hebrew  hasherez  hashdre'z,  but  cf. 
^  serpear,  from  Lat.  serpere ;  Bring  forth 
creeping  things,  Gen.  i,  20.  Transla- 
tion of  Hebrew  yishr£zu  sherez.  Sier- 
pan  serpiente.  Augmentarse,  R.  Ex. 
i,  7,  in  Hebrew  yishrfizu. 

SERPIBLE,  n.  Serpiente,  R.  Deut.  xiv,  19. 

SERVEJA,  n.  Sidra,  R.  Num.  vi,  2.  Cf.  Port. 
serveja. 

SESENO,  adj.  Sexto,  R.  Gen.  xxx,  19. 

SEXTEAR,  v.  Sextar,  R.  Ezek.  xxxix,  2.  The 
meaning  of  this  word  is  incomprehesi- 
ble  to  me  ;  it  is  a  translation  of  Hebrew 
shish£'thikha,  and  is  probably  due  to 
mistaking  it  as  related  to  shesh. 

SILLADURA,  n.  Signature,  Job  xli,  6.  From 
syllo,  q.  v. 

SIMPLEZ,  adj.  Simple,  R.  Prov.  ix,  4.  This 
form  corresponds  more  closely  to  Lat. 
simplicem;  the  plural  simplices  occurs 
Prov.  xiv,  18. 

SISFA,  Sidra,  R.  Deut.  xxix,  6.  Cf.  Sal.  sizra 
ant — .  Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii. 

SOBERBIAR,  v.  Ensoberbecerse,  R.  Ex.  xviii, 
ii.  Acad. — ant. — 

SOBRADURA,  n.  (Redano),  R.  Ex.  xxix,  22.  It 
is  a  translation  of  yothereth  for  which 
Pagn.  gives  reticulum  aut  malium,  but 
the  Bible  refers  it  to  yathar  '  to  be  left 
over,'  hence  the  meaning  is  'that  which 
is  left  over.' 

SOBREFOR^ADOR,  n.  Opresor,  R.  Jer.  xxi,  12. 
See  sobrefor^ar. 


SOBREFORC;AR,  v.  (Caluminar),  R.  Lev.  vi,  2. 

Deceive. 
SOBREFUERC;O,  n.    (Calumnia),  R.  Lev.  vi,  4. 

The  thing  deceitfully  gotten.     See  sob- 

refor$ar. 
SOBRELUMBRAL,  n.  Umbral,  R.  Kings  i,  vi,  31. 

See  lutnbral. 

SOLANERA,   n.   Imagen  del  sol,  R.  Is.  xvii,  8. 
SOLAS,  adv.  A  su — ,  Solo   R.  Gen.  ii,  18. 
SOLAZAMIENTO,  n.  Placer,  R.  Prov.  viii,  30. 
SOLOMBRA,  n.   Sombra,  R.  Jud.  ix,  15.     Bibl. 

Esp.  Ivii.     Etym.  sol+ombra  (Lat.  um- 
bra). 
SOLOMBROSO,  adj.   Que  hace  sombra,  R.   Is 

xviii,  i. 

SOLTURA,  n.  Declaracion,  R.  Gen.  xl,  5. 
SOMBAIR,   v.    Persuadir,   R.  Jud.   i,   14.    En- 

gafiar,  R.  Gen.  iii,  13.     Etym.  from  Lat. 

sub+vadere,  as ,  embair  is  invadere,  if 

this  latter  etymology  is  at  all  correct  in 

Korting. 
SOMPORTAR,    v.     Llevar,   R.   Gen.    xlix,    15. 

Same  as  soportar=Lat.  supportate. 
SONPORTARSE,  v.    Contenersc,  R.  Gen.    See 

somportar. 
SONTRAER,    v.    Sacar,    R.    Gen.   xxxvii,   28. 

Etym.=Lat.  subtrahere. 
SONTRAYMIENTO,  n.  (Atadura),  R.  xxxviii,  31. 

Pagn.   has  attractiones,    which    is    the 

meaning  here. 
Soso,  n.  Lodo  suelto,  R.  Ezek.  xiii,  10.  Pagn. 

gives  for  the   Hebrew    tap£l   insulsum 

which  at  once  indicates  the  origin  of  the 

word.     Cf.  Port,  sosso  and  see  higososo. 
,SOVERTIMIENTO,  n.    Asolamiento,  R.  Is.  i,  7. 

From  sovertir,  q.  v. 
SOVERTIR,   v.    Trastornar,  R.   Is.   xxiv,    i.= 

subvertir. 
SULCO,  n.  Huebra,  R.  Sam.  i,  xiv,  14.     Same 

as  surco.      Sal. — ant.   tierra    o    campo 

separado,  de  otro  par  un  surco.  • 
SUPITO,   adj.    Subito,    R.  Num.  vi,  9.      Bibl. 

Esp.  Ivii.    Sal. — ant. — . 
SYLLO,  n.  Anillo.  R.  Gen.  xxxviii,  18.    Etym. 

Lat.  sigillum. 

T. 

TAJAMIENTO,  n.  Entalladura,  R.  Kings  i,  vii 

37.     See  tajar. 
TAMARAL,  n.   Palma,  R.  Ex.  xv,  27.     Formed 

from  tatnara  date  ;  see  atamaral. 


103          February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


104 


TEMEROZIDAD,  n.  Cosa  terrible,  R.  Deut.  x, 

21. 
TEMPESTA,  n.   Torbellino,  R.  Kings  a,  ii,  i. 

Bibl.   Esp,  Ivii.    Sal. — ant.    tempestad. 
TEMPESTEAR,  v.  Temblar,  R.  Jud.  v,  4. 
TEMPLACION,  n.  'Drink-offering,'  Num.  xxviii, 

7.    Translation  of  Hebrew  nesekh,  from 

the  verb  templar. 
TEMPLANZA,  n.  Drink-offering,  Gen.  xxxv,  15. 

See  temptation. 
TENDIMIENTO  (de  manos),  n.    Putting  forth, 

Deut.  xii,  7. 

TESTAMIENTO,  n.  Testimonio,  R.  Ex.  xvi,  34. 
TESTIGUAR,  v.  Ser  testigo,  R.  Lev.  v,  i. 

Bibl.  Esp.  Ivii.    Acad — ant.  atestiguar. 
TESTIMONIAL  A,  n.   Testimonio,  R.   Is.  viii, 

16. 
THASSO,  n.  Tej6n,  R.  Ex.  xxv,  5.    This  form 

is  nearer  to  Low  Lat.  taxus  or  German 

dachs  ;  the  h  is,  no  doubt,  adventitious. 
TORTAVENO,  n.    Impiedad,  R.  Deut.  xiii,  13. 

Translation  of  Hebrew  bSliya'hal,  but 

I  cannot  ascertain  the  etymology  of  the 

second  part  of  the  word. 
TORTOL,  n.  Tortola,  R.  Gen.  xv,  9. 
TOVAJA,  n.    Lienco,  R.  Ruth,  iii,  15.     Acad. 

tobaja  ant.  toalla. 
TRA^ADO,  n,  Venda,  R.  Is.  iii,  20. 
TRANSIRSE,  v.    Morir,  R.  Gen.  vi,  17.     Bibl. 

Esp.  Ivii,  transir.    Sal.  transir  ant. — 
TRASERRAR,   v.    Hacer  salir  vagabundo,   R. 

Gen.  xx,  13. 

TRASERRARSE,  v.  Perderse,  R.  Gen.  xxi,  14. 
TRAVESANO,  n.  Moldura,  R.  Kings  i,  vii,  28. 
TREBEJAR,  v.  Danzar,  R.  Sam.  2,  vi,  21. 

Acad. — ant.  travesear  etc.     Cf.   Atrebe- 

jar.     Bibl.  Esp.  li-lvii. 
TRIAGA,  n.  Triaca,  R.  Jer.  viii,  22. 
TRIBO  n.  Tribu,  R.  Num.  i,  16.     Tribu  is  gen- 
erally given,  but  always  of  the  mascu- 
line gender. 
TROCAMIENTO,  n.   Contrato,  R.  Ruth,  iv,  7. 

Acad. — ant.  trueque. 
TROMPETEAR  (la  trompeta),  r.  Tocar  (la  trom- 

peta),    R.  Chron.  i,  xv,   24.      Acad. — 

fam. — 
TUTANO,  n.  Tuetano,  R.  Is.  xxv,  6. 

U. 

UNAR,  v.   Have  Claws,  Lev.  ix,  3.    Transla- 
tion of  Hebrew  taphreseth  parsah. 


V. 

VANTAJA,    n.    Abundancia,    R.  Mai.    ii,    15. 

Same  as  ventaja. 
VALLADAR,  v.    Cercar,  R.  Is.  v,  2.    Same  as 

valladear. 
VALLADADOR,  n.  Albanil,  R.  Kings  2,  xii,  12. 

From  valladar. 
VEDAR,  v.  Apartar,  R.  Prov.  i,  15.     Faltar,  R. 

Prov.  x,  19. 

VEDARSE,  v.  Cesar,  R.  Ex.  ix,  29. 
VEDIJA,  n.  Capello,  R.  Song,  v,  n. 
VENDIDA,  n.  Venta,  R.  Lev.  xxv,  27.    Acad. 

— ant. — 
VERTEDERO,  n.  Las  vertientes  de  las  aguas, 

R.  Deut.  iv,  49.     Ravine. 
VERTEDURA,  n.   Derramadura,  R.  Lev.  xxii, 

4- 

Vi£io,  n.  Grosura,  R.  Job.  xxxvi,  16.  Cf. 
aviciarse. 

VIGAR,  v.  Cubrir  deplanchas,  R.  Kings  i,  vii, 
3.  Verb  formed  from  viga. 

VISREY,  n.  Gobernador,  R.  Ezra,  viii,  36. 
Same  as  virey. 

VIVIENDA,  n.  Vida,  R.  Gen.  xlv,  5.  Acad. — 
ant.  Ge"nero  de  vida  6  modo  de  vivir. 

VOLATILLA,  n.  aves,  R.  Gen.  xv,  n.  VOLA- 
DILLA,  Ezra  xxxix,  4.  Acad. — ant.  ani- 
mal volatil. 

VOLUNTARIOSO,  adj.  Voluntario,  R.  Chron.  i, 
xxviii,  9.  Acad. — ant.  deseoso,  que 
hace  con  voluntad  y  gusto  una  cosa. 

VULVA,  n.  Matriz,  R.  Gen.  xx,  19. 

X. 

XARIFE,  n.  Gobernador,  R.  Prov.  viii,  16. 
Same  asjerife. 

Y.  ~~ 

YANTAR,  v.  Comer,  R.  Kings  i,  xiii,  7.  Acad. 

— ant. — 
YAZEDURA  (de  semen),  n.    Ayuntamiento  de 

semen,  R.  Lev.  xv,  18.    S&eyazida. 
YAZIDA,  n.  Lecho,  R.  Gen.  xlix,  4.     Majada, 

R.  Jer.   1,   6.    Ayuntamiento,   R.    Lev. 

xviii,  23. 

YNFAMA,  n.  Afrenta,  R.  Psalms  xxxi,  13. 
YUSANO,  adj.    Profundo,  R.  Deut.  xxxii,  22. 
YZQUIERDAR,  v.    Ir  &  la  mano  izquierda,  R. 

Gen.  xiii,  9.    YZQUIERDEAR,  Sam  2,  xiv, 

19.      Translation    of   Hebrew   vfi'asm'- 

llah. 


IDS         February,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


106 


Z. 

ZEBRO,  n.  Asno  months,  R.  Is.  xxxii,  14. 

LEO  WIENER. 

Boston,  Mass. 


7ill  IN  THE  SENSE  OF  Before. 
IN  some  strictures  on  the  English  of  Mr. 
William  Dean  Howells  made  by  Dr.  Hall  in 
his  Recent  Exemplifications  of  False  Philol- 
ogy (New  York,  1872),  at  page  107  (foot-note), 
there  is  the  following  quotation  from  Suburban 
Sketches : 

"It  seemed  long  till  that  foolish  voice  was 
stilled." 

This  is  Dr.  Hall's  comment:  "Is  this  bar- 
barous use  of  ////  peculiar  to  the  West  ?  It 
occurs  in  Venetian  Life,  also,  pp.  96,  114.  I 
know  it  only  as  an  Irishism,  in  modern  times." 

It  is  natural  to  want  to  know  what  it  is  in 
this  use  of  till  that  is  barbarous,  and  one 
turns  (after  glancing  at  "Irishism"  and  "pecu- 
liar to  the  West  ")  to  the  index  for  enlighten- 
ment. There  the  information  is  supplied, — 
"Till,  for  before,  107." 

The  edition  of  Venetian  Life  referred  to  by 
Dr.  Hall  is  an  early  one,  and  its  paging  ap- 
parently different  from  later  editions.  In  one 
of  1880,  I  have  found  the  passages  quoted 
below  at  the  pages  there  indicated.  Perhaps 
Dr.  Hall  would  regard  these  passages  and  the 
one  quoted  above  as  objectionable  for  the 
same  reason.  The  relation  of  the  pages  where 
these  passages  are,  to  the  pages  cited  by  Dr. 
Hall,  suggests  that  they  may  be  the  ones  to 
which  he  referred. 

"It  is  sufficiently  bad  to  live  in  a  rented 
house ;  in  a  house  which  you  have  hired 
ready-furnished- it  is  long  till  your  life  takes 
root,"  p.  104. 

"  I  have  said  G.  was  the  flower  of  serving- 
women  ;  and  so  at  first  she  seemed,  and  it 
was  long  till  we  doubted  her  perfection,"  p. 
122. 

At  present,  however,  let  us  restrict  our  at- 
tention to  the  passage  quoted  by  Dr.  Hall, 
and  to  the  definition  of  its  error  supplied  in 
the  index  to  his  Recent  Exemplifications. 
Dr.  Hall  says  that  the  use  of  /*//  in  the  sen- 
tence quoted  is  "barbarous,"  and  that  till  as 
there  used  is  "for  before."  The  implication 
seems  to  be  that  the  use  of  "  till,  for  before," 


— that  is  in  the  sense  of  before — is  barbarous. 
Now,  on  the  contrary,  to  me  these  two  things 
seem  probable :  (i)  That,  in  the  passage 
quoted,  "  till  "  is  not  "  for  before,"  and  (2)  that 
the  use  of  "till,  for  before,"  is  often  quite 
right.  Let  us  consider  the  second  point  first, 
and  turn  to  literature  to  see  whether  a  use  of 
////that  Dr.  Hall  regarded  as  "barbarous" 
has  not  the  sanction  of  a  considerable  range 
of  literary  authority. 

"Treuli  Y  seie  to  you,  that  this  generacioun 
schal  not  passe,  till  alle  thingis  be  don." — 
Wycliffe  and  Purvey,  The  New  Testament, 
Luke,  ch.  xxi.  Clarendon  Press,  1879. 

"Verily  I  say  unto  you,  This  generation 
shall  not  pass  away,  till  all  things  be  accom- 
plished."—  The  New  Testament.  Luke,  xxi, 
Revised  Version,  Cambridge  University  Press, 
1881. 

"...but  who  believes  it,  till  Death  tells  it 
us? — Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  "History  of  the 
World,"  Typical  Selections  from  the  Best 
English  Writers  (Clarendon  Press  Series), 
vol.  i,  p.  17. 

"...  but  long  it  could  not  be 
Till  that  her  garments,  heavy  with  their  drink, 
Pull'd  the  poor  wretch  from  her  melodious  lay 
To  muddy  death."    Hamlet,  iv.,  vii. 

"...and  begged  of  me  not  to  go  on  shore 
till  day."  Defoe,  Robinson  Crusoe,  Stockdale 
ed.,  1790,  vol.  i.,  p.  28. 

"  Man  little  knows  what  calamities  are  be- 
yond his  patience  to  bear  till  he  tries  them." 
—Goldsmith,    The    Vicar  of    Wakefield,   ch. 
xviii. 
But  perhaps  Goldsmith  was  using  an  Irishism. 

"  It  [Guide's  Siege  of  Troy}  does  not  seem 
to  have  much  entered  into  English  literature 
till  Chaucer's  time,  but  Chaucer  and  Lydgate 
both  used  it." — Stopford  Brooke,  English 
Literature  Primer  (New  York,  1894),  sec.  25, 

P-  32- 

"  She  did  not  know  how  long  she  had  been 
there,  till  she  was  startled  by  the  prayer-bell." 
— George  Eliot,  Mr.  GilfiVs  Love  Story,  ch. 
v. 

"...though  I  demur  to  the  truth  of  the 
assertion,  yet  there  is  no  saying  till  the  thing 
is  tried." — William  Hazlitt,  On  the  Conversa- 
tion of  Lords  (Sketches  and  Essays,  London, 
1884,  p.  200). 

"  Northumberland  strictly  obeyed  the  in- 
junction which  had  been  laid  on  him,  and  did 
not  open  the  door  of  the  royal  apartment  till 
it  was  broad  day." — Macaulay,  History  of 
England,  vol.  iii,  ch.  x.  p.  294. 

"Nothing  could  wake  her  to  life  till  the 
time  came."  George  du  Maurier,  Peter  Ib- 
betson,  Part  Fifth,  p.  307. 


53 


107          February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


108 


"That,  however,  at  the  earliest  would  not 
be  till  tomorrow." — W.  H.  Mallock,  A  Human 
Document,  ch.  xvi,  p.  229. 

"  He  had  planned  not  to  touch  his  hoard  till 
he  had  done  with  the  Frampton  job,  and  re- 
turned to  Clinton  for  good." — Mrs.  Humphry 
Ward,  The  Story  of  Bessie  Costrell  (New 
York,  1895),  scene  iv,  p.  98. 

"...but  I  had  no  formal  religious  convic- 
tions till  I  was  fifteen."—].  H.  Newman, 
Apologia,  ch.  i,  p.  i. 

So,  too,  until. 

"On  the  present  occasion,  we  did  not  quit 
the  dinner  until  Mr.  Slang,  the  manager,  was 
considerably  excited  by  wine..."  Thackeray, 
The  Ravenswing,  ch.  vii. 

"...Tom  was  delighted  and  greatly  re- 
lieved to  see  us,  having  quite  abandoned  all 
hope  of  our  appearing  until  the  morning..." 
Lady  Brassey,  Last  Voyage  (London,  1887),  p. 
201. 

"  Man  is  altogether  passive  in  this  call,  until 
the  Holy  Spirit  enables  him  to  answer  it." — 
Matthew  Arnold,  St.  Paul  and  Protestantism, 
p.  9. 

"One  always  thought  of  the  country  as 
gray,  until  one  looked  and  found  that  it  was 
green." — George  du  Maurier,  Peter  Ibbetson 
(New  York),  Part  Second,  p.  81. 

The  intention  of  "We  won't  go  home  till 
morning  "  was  irregular  and  indiscreet,  but  its 
English  is  without  fault. 

Till  or  until  is  preferably  used  for  before, 
when  the  proximity  of  some  word  of  an  in- 
congruous sense  would  make  before  sound 
misplaced  or  odd.  Among  incongruous  words 
of  this  kind  are  certain  prepositions  and  ad- 
verbs, as  after,  later,  within,  etc. 

"It  is  hardly  possible,  therefore,  that  dis- 
.putes  about  politics  or  religion  should  have 
embittered  his  [Barere's]  domestic  life  till 
some  time  after  he  became  a  husband." — 
Macaulay,  Critical  and  Miscellaneous  Essays 
(D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1879),  vol.  v,  p.  157, — 
"Barere's  Memoirs." 

"  Now  whose  this  small  voice  was  I  did  not 
find  out  till  many  years  later,. .." — George  du 
Maurier,  Peter  Ibbetson,  Part  Second,  p.  105. 

"  Her  nature,  indeed,  had  never  gauged  its 
own  capacities  for  pleasure  till  within  the  last 
few  months." — Mrs.  Humphry  Ward,  The 
Story  of  Bessie  Costrell  (New  York,  1895), 
scene  v,  p.  162. 

"...her  armies  had  not  approached  the 
Vistula  until  weeks  after  the  disaster  of  Jena." 
— W.  O.  Morris,  Napoleon  (New  York  and 
London,  1894),  p.  201. 

"Only  sixty-three,  and  apoplexy  quite  un- 
known until  now  in  our  family!  " — Thackeray, 
The  Book  of  Snobs,  ch.  xxiv. 


"  It  was  not,  however,  till  several  years 
after  that  it  occurred  to  the  much-wandering 
poet  to  fix  his  habitation  in  Venice." — Mrs. 
Oliphant,  The  Makers  of  Venice,  Part  iv,  ch. 

i,  P-  345- 

"As  it  suddenly  burst  on  one  its  entire  as- 
pect was  English.  It  was  not  till  a  little  later 
that  the  eye  took  note  of  the  differences." — 
W.  H.  Mallock,  In  An  Enchanted  Island,  p. 

75- 

"Till  now  that  she  was  threatened  with  its 
loss,  Emma  had  never  known  how  much  of 
happiness  depended  on  being  first  with  Mr. 
Knightley,  first  in  interest  and  affection." — 
Jane  Austen,  Emma,  vol.  Hi,  ch.  xii,  p.  213. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  the  gradations  by 
which  till  (or  until}  and  before  pass  into  a 
common  meaning.  There  is  always  an  im- 
plication of  before  in  till  and  until  when  used 
of  time ;  but  the  sense  that  is  in  the  fore- 
ground, in  most  cases,  is  that  of  continuance 
to  a  certain  point.  If  the  first  and  two  last  of 
the  subjoined  examples  be  compared,  it  will 
be  seen  that  in  the  first  the  substitution  of 
before  for  ////-would  exactly  reverse  the  sense, 
— for,  at  the  time  spoken  of,  the  vessel  could 
and  did  swim  ;  in  the  two  last  quotations, 
however,  the  displacement  of  till  and  until  by 
before  would  leave  the  sense  (though  not  the 
smoothness  of  expression)  unchanged.  At 
what  point  the  thought  becomes  such  that 
till  and  before  might  be  used  interchangeably 
for  its  expression  is  a  question  that  would, 
probably,  be  variously  answered  by  different 
people,  and  variously,  perhaps,  even  by  the 
same  person  at  different  times. 

"...  it  was  not  possible  she  could  swim  till 
we  might  run  into  port  . . ." — Defoe,  Robinson 
Crusoe,  vol.  i,  p.  14. 

"  Every  attentive  regarder  of  the  character 
of  Paul,  not  only  as  he  was  before  his  conver- 
sion but  as  he  appears  to  us  till  his  end,  must 
have  been  struck  with  two  things." — Matthew 
Arnold,  St.  Paul  and  Protestantism,  p.  26. 

"The  subscribers  engaged  ...  to  persist  in 
their  undertaking  till  the  liberties  and  the 
religion  of  the  nation  should  be  effectually 
secured." — Macaulay,  History  of  England, 
vol.  iii,  ch.  ix,  p.  249. 

But  one  vast  realm  of  wonder  spreads  around, 
And  all  the  Muses  tales  seem  truly  told, 
Till  the  sense  aches  with  gazing  to  behold 
The  scenes  our  earliest  dreams  have  dwelt  upon. 

Byron,  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage,  Second  Canto, 
Ixxxviii. 

"Bessie  ran  till  she  was  out  of  breath." — 
Mrs.  Humphry  Ward,  The  Story  of  Bessie 


54 


log  February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2.          no 


Costrell,  Scene  ii,  p.  42. 

"...  and  thus  I  lay  till  the  water  ebbed 
away,  and  left  my  raft  and  all  my  cargo  safe 
on  shore."  Robinson  Crusoe,  vol.  i,  p.  65. 

"  It  [the  villa]  semed  to  profane  the  land- 
scape, and  I  was  sorry  that  I  had  set  eyes  on 
it  till,  after  a  minute  or  two  spent  indoors,  we 
were  taken  out  into  the  garden  ... — "W.  H. 
Mallock,  In  An  Enchanted  Island,  p.  77. 

"...  men  of  high  rank,  who  had,  till  within 
a  few  days,  been  considered  as  zealous  Royal- 
ists."— Macaulay,  History  of  England,  vol. 
iii,  ch.  ix,  p.  276. — "  ...  zealous  Tories,  who 
had,  till  very  recently,  held  the  doctrine  of 
non-resistance  in  the  most  absolute  form  ..." 
— Ibid,  p.  277. 

"Until  we  had  secured  850  head  [of  cattle] 
in  the  corral  some  hours  afterwards,  we 
scarcely  saw  each  other  to  speak  to." — Isa- 
bella L.  Bird,  A  Lady's  Life  in  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  Letter  ix. 

"  He  used  to  go  to  meeting  and  preach  him- 
self, until  his  son  took  orders." — Thackeray, 
The  Book  of  Snobs,  ch.  xiv. 

"...  laying  up  every  corn,  I  resolved  to  sow 
them  all  again,  hoping  in  time  to  have  some 
quantity  sufficient  to  supply  me  with  bread ; 
but  it  was  not  till  the  fourth  year  that  I  could 
allow  myself  the  least  grain  of  this  corn  to 
eat." — Robinson  Crusoe,  vol.  i,  p.  98. 

"  One  terrible  cry,  ringing  through  the  still- 
ness of  the  night,  was  heard  by  the  royal  fleet, 
but  it  was  not  till  the  morning  that  the  fatal 
news  reached  the  King./— J.  R.  Green,  A 
Short  History  of  the  English  People  (New 
York,  1882),  ch.  ii,  sec.  vi,  p.  125. 

"All  men  could  not  come  in  their  own 
persons,  and  it  was  not  for  a  long  time,  not  till 
the  twelfth  or  thirteenth  century,  that  any  one 
thought  of  choosing  a  smaller  number  of  men 
to  speak  and  act  on  behalf  of  all  ..." — Ed- 
ward A.  Freeman,  General  Sketch  of  Euro- 
pean History  (London,  1885),  ch.  x,  sec.  6,  p. 

175- 
"Until  Mrs.  Walker  arrived,  Miss  Larkins 

was  the  undisputed  princess  of  the  Baroski 
company." — Thackeray,  The  Ravenswing,  ch. 
iv. 

"  We  never  do' anything  well  till  we  cease 
to  think  about  the  manner  of  doing  it." — 
William  Hazlitt,  On  Prejudice  (Sketches  and 
Essays,  London,  1884,  p.  68). — "  I  never  knew 
till  the  other  day,  that  Lord  Bolingbroke  was 
the  model  on  which  Mr.  Pitt  formed  himself." 
— Id.  On  the  Conversation  of  Lords  (Sketches 
and  Essays,  p.  207). 

"This  will  not  go  till  all  is  over." — J.  H. 
Newman,  Apologia  (London,  1883),  ch.  iv,  p. 

235- 

"The  answer  to  the  French  ultimatum  will 
probably  not  be  published  until  these  pages 
are  in  our  readers'  hands."  The  Spectator, 
July  22,  1893,  p.  101. 


An  undiscriminating  use  of  till  and  before 
often  produces  ambiguity. 

If  we  note  the  primary  meaning  of  till  and 
compare  with  it  the  sense  of  before  where  till 
and  before  seem  to  be  interchangeable,  we 
shall  see  that  before  carries  varying  implica- 
tions according  to  the  circumstances  in  which 
it  is  used.  Till  means,  continually  to  a  point 
of  time  mentioned  or  referred  to,  and  usually 
with  an  implication  of  discontinuance  at  that 
point,— as,  he  slept  till  the  bell  rang;  it  rained 
from  ten  till  noon,  I  know,  because  I  was  out 
in  it.  The  rain  spoken  of  in  the  second  sen- 
tence may  have  continued  after  noon,  but  the 
speaker  does  not  assert  knowledge  of  it. 
Bearing  in  mind  the  meaning  of  till,  let  us 
examine  two  sentences  in  which  before  occurs. 

(a)  Before    he   met   with    that  accident   his 

health  was  good. 

(b)  His  health  was  good  before  he  went  to 

Colorado. 

In  (a)  till  may  be  used  for  before  because 
health  is  a  continuing  state,  and  his  good 
health  lasted  to  the  time  of  the  accident,  at 
which  point  it  ceased  (by  implication)  to  be 
good.  But  before  produces  here  no  ambiguity. 
In  (b)  till  ought  to  be  used  instead  of  before  if 
the  meaning  intended  is  that  his  health  ceased 
to  be  good  after  he  went  to  Colorado,  for  the 
sentence  as  it  stands  may  be  understood  in 
more  than  one  way,  and  there  is  nothing  to 
show  whether,  after  he  went  to  Colorado, 
there  was  any  change  or  not  in  his  health. — 
We  may  say,  then,  that,  where  it  appears  from 
the  circumstances — that  is,  without  the  use  of 
////—that  a  state  or  act  continued  to  a  certain 
time  and  then  ceased  or  changed,  before  and 
//// may  be  used  interchangeably,  but  that,  if 
such  meaning  be  intended,  and  the  intention 
does  not  appear  from  the  circumstances,  then 
till  ought  to  be  used  to  make  the  meaning 
clear.  Sentences  of  which  (a)  is  the  tpye  are 
very  common ;  frequent  examples  of  them 
turn  up  in  remarks,  serious  or  burlesque, 
about  things  "before  the  War."— "What  a 
moon  that  was — fo  de  Wah  !  " 

The  ambiguous  before  illustrated  in  (b)  oc- 
curs in  affirmative  sentences  ;  in-negative  sen- 
tences there  may  be  an  ambiguous  till.  One 
cannot  know,  from  the  sentence  alone,  "it  did 
not  rain  till  noon,"  whether  the  rain  did  not 


55 


Ill 


February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2.          112 


begin  before  noon  or  whether  it  ceased  before 
noon.  If  the  former  meaning  is  intended,  the 
ambiguity  will  be  removed  by  the  substitution 
of  before  for  till;  if  the  latter  sense  is  the 
right  one,  it  should  be  apparent  from  the 
circumstances. 

Returning  now  to  the  passage  that  has 
served  as  the  text  for  this  discourse— Dr. 
Hall's  quotation  from  Howells — the  question 
at  once  rises  in  the  mind,  Is  "  till  "  used  there 
for  "  before  ?  " — "  It  seemed  long  till  that  fool- 
ish voice  was  stilled." — To  me  the  sense  is 
not  quite  the  same  as  when  before  is  substi- 
tuted. Till  gives  to  "  seemed  "  a  continuance 
that  is  not  conveyed  in  before,  and  that  pro- 
tracted duration  of  the  seeming  was  doubt- 
less the  sense  intended  by  the  author.  The 
two  quotations  from  Howells  that  I  have  cited 
by  conjecture  as  those  referred  to  by  Dr.  Hall 
stand,  perhaps,  on  a  different  footing. 

R.  O.  WILLIAMS. 
New   York. 


RAPHAEL'S  POESY  AND  POESY  IN 
FAUST. 

IN  a  very  interesting  article  in  this  journal,1 
Kuno  Francke  has  recently  called  attention  to 
a  parallel  to  Goethe's  Euphorion.  Indeed  the 
resemblance  between  Euphorion  and  Scherz 
appears  so  striking  that  no  one  can  help  agree- 
ing with  the  author  that  Goethe  must  have 
been  influenced  in  this  case  by  Tieck.  It  is 
furthermore  a  well-known  fact  that  Euphorion 
represents  Poesy  and  gradually  assumes  the 
features  of  Lord  Byron.  There  remains 
nevertheless  one  stanza  of  the  chorus  requir- 
ing explanation,  an  explanation  which  will  be 
attempted  in  the  present  article. 

After  Euphorion  has  stopped  playing  with 
the  maidens  he  begins  to  ascend  the  rocks, 
and  heedless  of  the  warnings  and  pleadings 
of  both  parents  and  chorus,  continues  to  mount 
until  finally  he  can  overlook  the  whole  of  the 
Peloponnesus  and  perceive  its  warlike  aspect. 
Thereupon  the  chorus  sings  :2 

Seht  hinauf  wie  hoch  gestiegen  ! 
Und  er  scheint  uns  doch  nicht  klein. 
Wie  im  Harnisch,  wit  zum  Siegen, 
Wie  von  Erz  und  Stahl  der  Schein. 

1  Vol.  x,  cols.  119-131. 

2  W.  9851-9854. 


After  Euphorion  has  replied  in  a  speech  full 
of  warlike  enthusiasm,  the  chorus  continues;} 

Heilige  Poesie, 
Himmelan  steigesie, 
GlSnze,  der  schonste  Stern, 
Fern  und  so  weiter  fern, 
Und  sie  erreicht  uns  doch 
Immer,  man  hort  sie  noch, 
Vernimmt  sie  gern. 

Euphorion,  however,  goes  on  in  his  martial 
strain,  thereby  calling  forth  sad  and  reproach- 
ful words  of  Helena  and  Faust. 

The  stanza  concerning  Poesy  is  so  truly  in- 
spired and  so  entirely  in  keeping  with  the 
beautiful  lines  in  which  Phorkyas  has  described4 
the  divinely  poetical  character  of  Euphorion, 
that  the  ordinary  reader  will  scarcely  notice 
any  discrepancy  here.  A  more  careful  inspec- 
tion, however,  cannot  fail  to  disclose  it.  In- 
deed, it  is  so  great  that  Schroeder  seems  to 
suppose  that  this  stanza  is  not  addressed  to 
Euphorion  at  all,  when  he  says  :s  "Die  Poesie 
steigt  wie  Euphorion  himmelan,  fern  und  fer- 
ner  wie  ein  Stern,"  u.s.w. 

Yet  we  may  ask,  how  is  it  possible  that  at 
such  a  critical  moment  the  chorus  should  ad- 
dress its  apostrophe  not  to  Euphorion  who 
represents  Poesy,  but  to  Poesy  as  distinct 
from  him  ?  Is  it  not  much  easier  for  us  to 
substitute  in  our  imagination  Poesy  for  Eu- 
phorion who  is  clothed  like  Apollo,  the  God 
of  Poetry,  with  lyre  in  hand,  than  to  connect 
him  with  Lord  Byron  which  we  have  to  do 
when  the  chorus  sings  his  funeral  dirge? 

But  granted  that  Poesy  and  Euphorion  must 
be  identical,  we  still  wish  for  an  explanation 
as  to  why  Goethe  should  suddenly  have  sub- 
stituted: 'Sacred  Poesy  rising  heavenward  and 
shining  like  the  brightest  star,  yet  evef"reach- 
ing  us  with  her  melodies,'  for  the  Apollinarian 
Euphorion  who  only  a  moment  ago  appeared 
to  the  chorus  like  a  young  Mars.  This  ex- 
planation is,  I  think,  furnished  us  by  Raphael's 
celebrated  personification  of  Poesy  in  the 
Stanza  del/a  Segnatura  of  the  Vatican. 
To  be  sure,  Goethe  does  not  mention  this 
painting  explicitly  in  any  of  his  letters  from 
Italy  now  extant,  but  it  is  evident  that  he 
appreciated  it  highly,  for  two  of  the  copies  of 

3  Vv.  9863-9869. 

4  Vv.  9619-9627. 

5  Goethe's  Faust,  Second  Part,  2d.  ed.  p.  271. 


ii3          February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  K\,  No. 


114 


it  which  he  procured  may  still  be  seen  at  his 
house. 

In  Raphael's  painting  we  find  Poesy  seated 
on  a  throne  in  the  clouds,  and  her  outspread 
wings  show  that  she  is  ascending.  A  wreath 
of  laurel  crowns  her  head  which  is  turned 
towards  the  right,  while  a  golden  lyre  rests  in 
her  left  hand  and  a  book  in  her  right.  One 
winged  genius  is  seated  by  her  right  side 
holding  a  tablet  inscribed  with  the  word  Nu- 
mine,  whilst  another  is  kneeling  on  her  left 
with  one  bearing  the  legend  Afflatur.  The 
figure  represented  is  Sacred  Poesy,  and  the 
divine  inspiration  has  found  a  supreme  expres- 
sion in  her  eyes  that  are  gazing  into  the  dis- 
tance. 

Now  we  are  so  fortunate  as  to  have  a  direct 
testimony  for  Goethe's  fondness  for  Raphael, 
dating  within  a  year  or  two  of  the  time  when 
he  wrote  the  greater  part  of  Helena,  for 
Eckermann  tells  us  :6 

Er  beschaftigt  sich  mil  Rafael  sehr  oft,  um 
sich  immerfort  im  Verkehr  mit  dem  Besten  zu 
erhalten  und  sich  immerfort  zu  iiben,  die 
Gedanken  eines  hohen  Menschen  nachzuden- 
ken. 

Certainly  Goethe's  and  Raphael's  personi- 
fications do  not  agree  in  every  particular, 
for  Raphael  has  not  represented  his  Poesy  in 
the  act  of  singing,  and  Goethe  mentions 
neither  book  nor  lyre.  Yet  these  are  merely 
inherent  differences  between  the  Arts  of  Poetry 
and  Painting;  in  spirit  the  two  are  identical: 
Goethe  the  Poet  did  think  a  thought  of 
Raphael  the  Painter,  and  reproduced  with 
equal  beauty  in  language  and  verse  what  his 
model  had  so  loftily  expressed  with  paint  and 
brush. 

A.  GERBER. 
Earlham  College.    ' 


SCHNOERKEL. 

IN  vol.  x,  no.  3,  of  the  Publications  of 
tne  Modern  Language  Association,  Professor 
H.  Collitz  very  ingeniously  derives  German 
schnirkel  from  schrenkel,  which  is  connected 
with  schrank.  Starting  as  he  does  from  the 
earlier  form  schnerkel,  it  is  quite  among  the 
possibilities  to  suppose  this  a  corruption  of 
schrenkel.  But  this  is  not  a  natural  change, 

6  Gesp>d  he,  Vol.  iii,  6th  ed.,  p.  29, 


and  would  hardly  occur  without  some  outside 
influence.  We  might  easily  understand  a 
metathesis  changing  schrenkel  to  *schernkel, 
but  not  so  easily  to  schnerkel. 

The  etymology  previously  given  by  Weigand, 
and  adopted  doubtfully  by  Kluge,  connects 
schniirkel  with  O.H.G.  snarha  and  snerhan. 
Of  this  Collitz  says  : 

"This  etymology  is  in  open  conflict  with 
Grimm's  law,  since  the  guttural  in  snerhan  is 
Germanic  h,  shifted  from  Pregermanic  k,  while 
the  guttural  in  Schnorkel  clearly  represents 
Germanic  k,  shifted  from  Pregermanic  g" 

This  would  settle  the  question  as  far  as 
Weigand 's  derivation  is  concerned  if  the  k 
belonged  to  the  root-syllable,  and  could  not 
be  explained  in  any  other  way.  But  that  is 
not  a  safe  assumption.  Compromise-forms 
arise,  or  forms  which,  like  ewigkeit,  have  in- 
troduced a  sound  from  the  simplex  that  does 
not  properly  belong  in  the  compound.  If  we 
did  not  know  that  -keit  was  to  be  divided 
-c-(h)eit,  we  should  deny  its  relation  to  -heit. 
A  priori,  therefore,  we  cannot  discard  Wei- 
gand's  derivation.  This  is  a  matter  to  be 
settled  by  evidence. 

Collitz  quotes  from  Kramer's  dictionary  the 
form  schniirchel,  but  regards  the  ch  as  Upper 
German  for  k,  which  it  may  or  may  not  be. 
Schnorchel,  or  rather  *schnerchel,  is  what  we 
should  expect  in  a  derivative  from  snarha, 
but  schnorkel  is  not  without  a  parallel.  Of 
the  derivation  of  ferkel  there  can  be  no  doubt; 
but  from  O.H.G.  farh,  diminutive  farheli(ri), 
M.H.G.  verch,  verhel,  verhelin,  O.E.  fearh, 
we  should  expect  to  fmdferchel.  But  already 
in  M.H.G.  occur  varc,  verkel,  verkelin.  It 
will  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  h  in  farh  is 
Germanic,  and  therefore  should  be  expected 
in  Low  as  well  as  in  High  German. 

Now  the  M.L.G.  verken,  Dutch  varken,  is 
easily  explained  as  *verhken,  the  diminutive. 
The  form  verchel  yielded  to  verkel  under  the 
influence  of  L.G.  verken,  varken.  We  may 
suppose  that  the  M.H.G.  varch  was  further 
influenced  to  assume  the  form  varc  from  the 
diminutive  varken  or  from  another  word  of  simi- 
lar meaning,  bare.  There  is  also  another 
possibility.  Varke,  plur.  verken,  occurs  as  a 
weak  masculine.  The  singular  here  may  have 
been  formed  from  the  plural  of  the  diminutive 
w  lich  was  felt  as  a  simplex.  From  this  has 


57 


February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


116 


come  the  modern  Bavarian  der  fark.  It  is 
also  barely  possible  that  M.H.G.  varc,  varkes 
was  for  an  original  varc,  *varges,  I.E.  *pork6s. 
At  any  rate  it  will  be  seen  that  considerable 
confusion  has  crept  into  this  word. 

In  like  manner  schnorkel  for  *schnerchcl< 
snarha  may  have  been  influenced  by  a  L.G. 
*snerken<*snerhkcn.  Perhaps  Bav.  schnnr- 
keln  (see  Benecke,  Miiller  u.  Zarncke,  Mhd. 
Wtb.  s.  v.  snirche)  points  to  such  a  form.  It 
is  apparent,  therefore,  that  schnorkel  is  de- 
rivable from  snarha  without  doing  violence  to 
Grimm's  law.  It  would  then  be  connected 
with  the  large  family  of  words  from  the  I.E. 
root  snd,  sne.  Cf.  Kluge,  Et.  Wtb.,  s.  v. 
schnur,  and  Noreen,  Urg.  Lautlehre,  pp.  77 
and  208. 

The  confusion  of  ch  and  k  mferchel:  ferkel, 
schnorchel:  schnorkel  may  have  been  further 
promoted  by  the  interchange  of  ch  and  k  in 
other  words  in  which  ch  and  k  both  come 
from  Germanic  k.  This  was  brought  about 
by  the  development  of  a  vowel  in  the  com- 
bination -rk.  Thus  O.H.G.  stare  and  starah, 
store  and  storah,  werk  and  werah,  etc.,  giving 
M.H.G.  stare  and  starch,  store  and  storch, 
were  and  werch,  and  N.H.G.  stark,  starch, 
werk.  Where  ch  occurs,  the  svarabhaktic 
vowel  was  present  before  the  High  German 
soundshifting. 

FRANCIS  A.  WOOD. 
Chicago. 


NOTE  ON  ALFRED'S  Cura  Pastoralis. 
IN  Alfred's  version  of  Gregory's  preface  to 
the  Cura  there  is  an  inserted  phrase,  ond  hira 
geficef  bion,  which  seems  to  have  puzzled  the 
commentators  and  lexicographers,  all  of  whom 
see  in  the  adjective  %edczf  only  the  sense  of 
'satisfied,'  'approving,'  which  is  exactly  the 
reverse  of  the  sense  required  by  the  connection 
in  this  place.  Sweet  translates  '  and  subdue 
them,'  but  says  in  a  note  that  this  is  purely 
conjectural,  and  gives  the  suggestions  of  Skeat 
and  Lumby,  the  former  of  whom  proposes  'be 
their  help,  that  is,  their  amender  or  corrector,' 
and  the  latter,  (comparing  "  ic  eom  gepafa  " 
in  the  Boetius),  '  be  convinced  of  them.' 

It  seems  a  little  strange  that  the  passage  in 
the  Boetius  did  not  suggest  the  meaning,  for 
liceom  gepafa,'  cited  by  Lumby,  translates 


fateor.  The  phrase  in  the  Cura,  without 
question,  has  the  same  meaning,  and  we  may 
translate:  'The  fourth  is  that  he  should  be 
willing  to  recognize  his  own  faults  and  to  ac- 
knowledge them.' 

The  phrase  gepafa  beon  occurs  often  in  the 
Boetius,  and  a  comparison  will  show  the 
meaning  clearly.  Instances  are  xxvi,  2,  ac 
hwi  ne  eart  pu  his  gepafa?  (Lat.  quidni 
fatearef);  xxxiv,  12,  we  sceolon  beon  nede 
gepafan :  ibid,  dees  pu  ware  nu  gepafa  ; 
xxxiv,  2,  ic  eom  gepafa,  (Lat.  accipio,  cf.  Hor. 
Sat.  \,  v,  58) ;  xxxiv,  3,  ic  his  wees  csr  gepafa  ; 
xxxiv,  9,  ic  eom  gepafa,  (Lat.  assentior).  In 
all  these  Fox  translates  '  be  convinced,'1  which, 
to  be  sure,  does  not  differ  much  from  the 
exact  meaning,  which  is  'admit'  or  'acknowl- 
edge '  the  truth  of  a  statement  or  argument 
used  by  another. 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  I  think,  of  the  con- 
nection of  the  adjective  and  the  noun,  or  of 
the  identity  of  meaning  in  the  two  phrases. 
It  may  not  be  amiss,  however,  to  call  attention 
to*  the  fact  that  the  later  lexicons  treat  the 
stem-vowel  of  dafian,  gepafa,  etc.,  as  short. 
This   removes  the  difficulty   which    troubled 
Sweet ;  (see  note  in  his  edition  of  the  Cura}. 
F.  A.  BLACKBURN. 
University  of  Chicago. 


ON  THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  POPU- 
LAR LA  TIN  e  INTO  FRENCH  ei,  oi. 

I.    PRONUNCIATION. 

THE  development  referred  to  in  the  title  of 
this  article  constitutes  one  of  the  most  promi- 
nent characteristics  of  the  dialect  of  the  Ile- 
de-France  and,  at  the  same  time,  one  of  the 
most  puzzling  subjects  for  investigation  Known 
to  students  of  Old-French  philology.  Tenta- 
tive explanations  of  the  phenomenon  have 
been  made  in  numerous  articles,  in  many 
paragraphs  of  historical  French  grammars 
and  in  several  dissertations.  The  object  of  the 
present  writer  is  to  invite  attention  to  a  possi- 
ble solution  that  was  suggested  to  him  in  part 
in  the  course  of  a  critical  reading  of  certain 
passages  of  a  book  which,  on  account  of  the 
many  practical  points  of  view  of  its  author,  is 
to  be  recommended  to  theorizers  in  the  line  of 
Gallic  linguistics :  I  refer  to  the  work  of  M. 


ii7  February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2.  118 


Paul  Passy,  Les  Changements  Phonitiques.'1 

On  pp.  191-195  of  this  publication  M.  Passy 
is  discussing  the  evolution  of  diphthongs.  He 
there  announces  as  a  principle,  illustrated  by 
many  examples  drawn  from  French  and  other 
languages,  the  following  proposition  :  Of  the 
two  elements  of  a  diphthong  the  first  exhibits 
a  tendency  to  be  dissimilated  from  the  second, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  second  manifests  a 
contrary  disposition  to  be  assimilated  to  the 
first.  By  applying  this  formula  to  the  case  in 
hand  we  may  trace  the  probable  succession  of 
steps  in  the  elaboration  of  e  into  oi.  I  begin 
with  ei  which  has  developed  from  e  by  the 
seventh  century  (cf.  English  say,  make,  escape, 
pronounced  as  se>,  me*ke,  escape).  In  6i  by 
the  dissimilation  of  the  first  from  the  second 
element  we  get  gi,  and  by  the  assimilation  of 
the  second  to  the  first  ge .  Now  in  £e  the  first 
element  is  again  dissimilated  from  the  second, 
leaving  de,  while  the  second  is  assimilated  to 
the  first,  making  dg.  Again,  in  dg  the  first 
element  is  dissimilated  from  the  second,  pro- 
ducing fa.  That  this  latter  stage  actually 
occurred  and  was  pronounced  as  indicated  is 
proved  by  rhymes.  In  the  thirteenth  century 
the  pronunciation  og  is  attested,  later  that  of 
wg,  and  still  more  recently  that  of  wa.  The 
change  of  the  diphthong  fa  from  a  falling  to  a 
rising  one,  og,  calls  for  no  especial  remark, 
since  several  counterparts  of  such  a  procedure 
are  known  in  Old  French.  The  o  of  og  be- 
comes w  by  reason  of  the  suggestion  of  the  w 
produced  by  the  action  of  the  lips  in  forming 
rounded  o,  and  also  in  obedience  to  the 
general  tendency  in  French  for  the  unaccented 
first  part  of  a  diphthong  to  assume  the  value 
of  a  semi-consonant.  Now,  we  may  consider 
wa  as  either  a  further  growth  of  wg  or  else  as 
an  independent  development  from  £e,  existing 
by  the  side  of  but  not  deriving  from,  wg.  To 
explain  how  wg  directly  became  wa  we  have  a 
suggestion  of  Schwan  that  it  did  so  first  be- 
fore r  (cf.  barre  :  poirre,  Villon),  the  g  of  wg 
thus  forming  one  of  a  number  of  cases  in 
which  e  before  r-|-consonant  descends  to  a. 

i  Paris,  1891.  In  addition  to  the  aid  received  from  this 
thesis  I  take  great  pleasure  in  acknowledging  that  derived 
from  the  penetrating  observations  of  two  students  now  at- 
tending my  lectures  on  Old-French  Phonology  at  the  Johns 
Hopkins  University, — Messrs.  E.  C.  Armstrong  and  R.  H. 
Griffith. 


To  make  wa  a  separate  product  of  fa  we  con- 
tinue the  method  by  which  we  arrived  at  fa. 
For  the  latter  the  next  stage  of  development 
is  the  assimilation  of  the  second  to  the  first 
element  by  which  we  obtain  0a.  Here  the 
first  element  is  again  dissimilated,  becoming 
q.  In  6a  the  second  vowel  is  the  more  sonor- 
ous and  consequently  the  accent  is  shifted  to 
it,  causing  od,  which  is  the  pronunciation  of 
many  Frenchmen  of  to  day  (some  of  whom 
carry  the  process  of  dissimilation  yet  farther, 
saying  u£)  but  in  the  mouths  of  the  majority 
of  speakers  od  became  wa. 

The  appended  scheme  will  probably  exhibit 
the  natural  phonetic  sequence  of  the  changes 
already  indicated : 


This  scheme  represents  to  the  eye  the  dif- 
ferent stages  through  which  the  ^-sound  has 
passed  in  its  successive  stages  of  dissimila- 
tion. The  second  development  begins  at  *, 
and  following  the  evolution  of  e,  arrives  on 
the  scale  as  far  as  a.  As  a  resume,  the  de- 
velopment (in  pronunciation)  of  our  combi- 
nation may  be  indicated  as  follows:  H> 


II.    ORTHOGRAPHY. 

How  fa'-  does  the  above  explanation  of  the 
history  of  the  pronunciation  of  our  phenome- 
non accord  with  the  fact  that  the  orthography 
of  the  digraph  has  changed  but  once  since 
French  has  become  a  written  language,  that 
change  being  the  substitution  in  ei  of  o  for  e,- 
oit  The  general  statement  holds  good  that 
orthography  is  conservative,  that  it  always 
lags  behind  pronunciation,  and  that  therefore 
in  cases  where  the  former  does  not  coincide 
with  the  latter  this  fact  offers  no  barrier  to  a 
reasonable  phonetic  exposition  of  the  transi- 
tion of  a  given  speech-product.  While  the 
acceptance  of  this  principle  may  aid  in  ac- 
counting for  the  present  retention  of  oi,  in 
which  the  two  letters  assuredly  offer  no  sug- 
gestion as  to  the  proper  phonetic  value  of  the 
combination,  I  think,  nevertheless,  that  at  a 
certain  period  in  the  construction  of  the 
French  language  the  transcription  by  oi  did 


59 


U9          February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


120 


respond  to  a  feeling  for  a  change  in  spelling 
corresponding  to  a  new  pronunciation  of  de- 
rivatives of  Popular  Latin  e.  We  may  suppose 
that  the  stages  in  our  scheme  between  ei  and 
6e  were  compassed  in  a  comparatively  brief 
space  of  time;  when,  however,  the  written  ei 
arrived  at  the  pronunciation  6e  the  divergence 
in  pronunciation  and  orthography  was  so 
evident  that  a  conscious  effort  to  reconcile  the 
two  was  made.  The  result  of  this  attempt 
was  the  use  in  writing  of  oi.  The  question 
may  naturally  arise:  Why,  in  altering  the 
orthography  of  ei,  was  only  the  first  vowel  (e) 
changed  (to  o)  and  the  i  left?  May  not  the 
following  suggestions  account  for  this  ?  In 
virtue  of  its  conservative  nature,  already 
noticed,  orthography  when  it  does  change  to 
suit  the  pronunciation  of  a  given  combination 
often  seizes  upon  the  more  prominent  part  of 
that  combination  and  denotes  it,  leaving  the 
less  marked  portion  unaltered.  Now  in  the 
present  instance,  either  because  the  change 
(in  pronunciation)  of  the  first  element  e  (of  ei} 
to  o  (of  oe)  was  so  much  greater  from  a  pho- 
netic point  of  view  than  that  of  the  second 
element  i  (of  ei)  to  e  (of  oe),  or  because  the 
accent,  bearing  originally  upon  the  o,  ren- 
dered the  enunciation  of  the  unstressed  e  (of 
6e)  indistinct,  only  the  e  (of  ei)  was  altered  in 
spelling,  the  i  being  left  intact ;  hence  the 
result,  oi. 

Although  important  changes  in  pronuncia- 
tion have  affected  our  combination  since  it 
has  passed  the  c^-stage,  the  use  of  oi  to  indi- 
cate whatsoever  degree  of  change  has  never 
been  interfered  with  (except  sporadically  by 
grammarians);  oi  remained  in  the  sixteenth 
century  when  the  pronunciation  was  we_\  and 
we  continue  to  write  it  notwithstanding  our 
present  pronunciation,  wa,  and  it  was  only  at 
a  recent  date  that  ai  was  substituted  for  it  in 
words  in  which  oi  had  had  the  value  of  simple  £ 
(as ;  Franfais)  for  three  .centuries.  Such  a 
state  of  orthography  may  be  partly  due  to  the 
fact  that  the  French  in  becoming  a  fixed 
literary  medium,  clung  the  more  tenaciously 
to  traditional  script ;  it  may  be  due  partly  also 
to  the  coincidence  that  this  oi<e  once  written, 
appealed  immediately  to  the  eye  as  belonging 
to  the  very  numerous  class  of  words  in  which 
oi  was  etymological  (originating  for  the  most 


part  in  0+a  palatal  and  au-\-a.  palatal,  as 
miroir,  joie);  all  three  of  these  oi's  had  the. 
same  development  in  pronunciation,  and  the 
etymological  foundation  for  the  orthography 
of  the  latter  two,  if  it  did  not  help  to  fashion 
oi  to  denote  the  pronunciation  of  oe<ei,  (sup- 
position by  no  means  impossible),  may  at  least 
be  adduced  as  favoring  the  retention  of  oi 
after  the  latter  had  once  made  its  appearance. 

L.  EMIL  MENGER. 
Joh  ns  Hopkins  Un  iversity. 


FRENCH  LITER  A  TURE. 

Athalie  by  Racine,  with  a  Biography,  Biblical 
References  and  Explanatory  Notes  in  Eng- 
lish by  C.  FONTAINE,  B.L.,  L.D.,  New  York: 
W.R.Jenkins.  Boston:  C.  Shoenhof.  8vo, 
pp.  iii,  in.  25  cts. 

Racine's  Athalie,  edited  with  an  Introduc- 
tion, containing  a  Treatise  on  Versification, 
and  with  Notes  by  C.  A.  EGGERT,  Ph.  D., 
Boston:  D.  C.  Heath  &  Co.,  8vo,  pp.  xxvi, 
130.  30  cts. 

THE  publication  in  the  same  year  of  two 
separate  editions  of  Racine's  famous  tragedy 
naturally  invites  of  itself  a  comparison  be- 
tween the  two,  and  at  first  sight  would  seem 
to  make  the  task  of  the  reviewer  an  easy  one. 
On  closer  inspection,  however,  the  books  be- 
fore us  reveal  entirely  different  conceptions  in 
their  respective  authors  of  the  object  and 
purpose  of  their  work,  and  thereby  demand 
another  method  of  analysis  from  the  one  sug- 
gested by  their  titles. 

Mr.  Fontaine  has  had  in  mind  a  text  for 
c'ass  translation,  and  rapid  translation  at  that. 
Accordingly,  after  a  short  sketch  of  his  author 
and  a  list  of  the  proper  names  in  the  play, 
with  their  corresponding  English  equivalents, 
and  biblical  references  (in  all  barely  five  pages 
of  print),  he  comes  at  once  to  the  play  itself. 
On  the  way,  the  list  of  characters  is  annotated 
with  the  names  of  the  actors  who  took  part 
in  the  first  three  representations. 

The  notes  following  the  text  are  evidently 
the  result  of  class  room  work.  They  clearly 
reproduce  what  the  editor's  experience  has 
shown  him  to  be  necessary  to  a  quick  render- 
ing of  the  original.  For  they  are,  with  few 


60 


I2i          February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2.  122 


exceptions,  detailed  translations.  How  far 
such  methods  of  editing  should  go,  whether 
they  should  encroach  on  the  ground  of  the 
lexicon  and  grammar,  is  perhaps  still  a  matter 
under  discussion.  Yet  we  think  that  the 
majority  of  instructors  believe  that  there  is 
greater  danger  in  assisting  the  student  too 
much,  in  annotating  our  modern  texts,  than 
too  little.  One  objection  to  Mr.  Fontaine's 
use  of  the  method  is  that  he  has  occasionally 
allowed  himself  to  give  his  own  meaning  to 
Racine's  words.  He  translates  temeraire 
once  by  "common,  vulgar"  (p.  24,  1.  19),  and 
in  other  passages  he  rather  obscures  the  inter- 
pretation of  his  author  by  renderings  which 
are  either  vague  or  are  badly  proof-read. 
Such  instances  may  be  found  on  p.  26,  1.  26; 
p.  28,  1.  9 ;  p.  31,  l.y;  p.  43,  1.  13 ;  p.  57,  1.  11 ; 
p.  83,  1:  8. 

Occasionally  the  editor  gives  a  note  on  the 
versification,  or  he  comments  on  Racine's  use 
of  words.  In  the  latter  case  his  statements 
are  not  always  felicitous,  as  in  the  example  of 
deplaisirs  (p.  16,  1.  6),  which  has  here  its  cus- 
tomary seventeenth  century  meaning,  or  in 
regard  to  the  gender  of  amour  (p.  17,  1.  28), 
masculine  as  well  as  feminine  with  Racine. 

Perhaps  the  chief  drawback  of  this  edition — 
allowing  the  editor  his  view  of  what  an  edition 
of  a  classical  tragedy  should  be — is  in  the 
printing  of  the  text.  The  lines  are  not  num- 
bered at  all,  either  consecutively  or  by  page, 
nor  are  the  acts  and  scenes  indicated  in  the 
head  lines  of  the  right-hand  pages.  Such 
omissions — omission  of  essentials  we  think — 
make  reference  to  the  different  parts  of  the 
play  wearyingly  difficult,  and  offer  numerous 
stumbling-blocks  to  the  feet  of  the  editor  him- 
self. On  the  first  page,  for  instance,  the  name 
of  the  speaker  is  evidently  counted  for  a  line 
in  the  note  references,  while  on  the  second  it 
is  not.  Elsewhere  half-lines  seem  to  be 
reckoned  as  whole  ones.  Such  inconveniences 
to  quick  handling  should  be  remedied  in  a 
second  edition. 


Prof.  Eggert  has  entered  upon  the  prepara- 
tion of  his  edition  in  a  somewhat  more  com- 
prehensive spirit.  Instead  of  furnishing  his 
pupils  with  a  text  for  rapid  reading,  he  has 


aimed  particularly  at  presenting  to  them  a 
piece  of  literature,  one  of  the  best  in  the 
history  of  the  French  drama.  His  work  as  an 
editor  is  to  call  attention  to  those  characteris- 
tics of  Athalie  which  have  given  it  its  reputa- 
tion. The  mere  translation  of  the  play  into 
English  is, therefore, a  secondary  and  incidental 
matter  with  him.  For  this  reason  he  recapitu- 
lates in  his  Introduction  the  leading  events  of 
Racine's  career,  and  insists  on  the  significance 
of  his  two  religious  tragedies.  After  this  his- 
torical prelude  comes  a  careful  study  of 
French  classical  versification,  based  on  the 
lines  of  the  play  itself.  Some  eleven  pages 
are  thus  devoted,  which  dispose  of  the  subject 
with  the  same  clearness  and  thoroughness 
that  Matzke  has  shown  in  his  chapter  on  the 
versification  of  the  romantic  school,  contained 
in  his  edition  of  Hernani.  Instructors  in 
French  literature  are  certainly  under  obliga- 
tions to  these  two  editors  for  their  adequate 
presentation  of  a  not  very  alluring  theme. 

After  the  Introduction  comes  Racine's  pre- 
face to  Athalie,  which  treats  of  its  sources 
and  the  suggestions  furnished  him  by  the 
Scriptures.  The  text  follows  next,  the  lines 
being  numbered  consecutively  throughout  the 
whole  tragedy.  The  notes  of  the  editor  are 
in  the  main  historical  and  literary.  Consider- 
able attention  is  paid  to  the  language  of  the 
author,  in  those  passages  where  it  differs  from 
the  usages  of  the  present  day.  Also  the  de- 
vices of  the  poet  in  adapting  his  vocabulary 
to  the  demands  of  his  verse  are  repeatedly 
noticed.  Among  other  interesting  matter 
adduced  to  throw  light  on  Racine's  literary 
procedures  are  quotations  from  his  favorite 
writers  of  Roman  antiquity,  where  such  quo- 
tations have  an  evident  bearing  on  the  thought 
and  style  of  the  play.  The  Latinisms  allowed 
by  the  purists  of  the  time  are  also  pointed 
out.  Translations  are  given  wherever  required, 
and  syntactical  constructions  are  commented 
upon  or  construed,  as  the  case  demands. 

Indeed  in  all  respects,  this  edition  of 
Athalie  meets  the  requirements  of  that  literary 
study  which  should  be  especially  bestowed  on 
the  masterpieces  of  the  French  drama.  It  is 
the  most  complete  in  its  equipment  of  any  of 
the  editions  of  classical  tragedy  published  in 
this  country,  and  should  serve  as  a  model  and 


61 


123  February,  1896.   ^MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


124 


standard  for  future  editors  in  the  same  field. 

F.  M.  WARREN. 
Adelbert  College. 


FRENCH   EPICS. 

Die  Franzosische  Heldensage.  Akademische 
Antrittsvorlesung  gehalten  am  25.  Januar, 
1894,  von  Dr.  CARL  VORETZSCH,  ausser- 
ordentlichem  Professor  der  romanischen  Phi- 
lologie  an  der  Universitat  Tubingen.  Heidel- 
berg :  Carl  Winter's  Universitatsbuchhand- 
lung,  1894.  8vo,  pp.  32. 

THE  above  essay  presents  to  the  reader  a  very 
clear  and  succinct  summing  up  of  the  present 
state  of  scholarly  research  into  that  vast  and 
entertaining  field  of  mediaeval  literature  which 
is  fitly  designated  as  the  French  Epic.  Though 
most  of  the  facts  here  set  forth  and  many  of 
the  views  advanced  are  the  common  property 
of  Romance  scholars,  this  short  pamphlet 
will  well  repay  a  perusal,  because  of  the  neat 
and  careful  manner  in  which  the  chief  prob- 
lems that  are  encountered  by  the  literary  in- 
vestigator, and  the  necessary  limitations  to 
his  investigations  in  this  domain,  are  set  forth. 
It  will,  perhaps,  not  be  out  of  place  to  call  to 
mind  a  few  of  the  facts  to  which  Prof.  Vor- 
etzsch  has  especially  directed  our  attention. 
One  of  the  earliest  and  most  celebrated  workers 
in  this  field  was  the  German  poet  Ludwig  Uh- 
land,  who  as  far  back  as  the  year  1812  pub- 
lished a  monograph  entitled  Ueber  dan  alt- 
franzosische  Epos.1  His  co-worker  Immanuel 
Bekker  led  the  way  in  the  publication  of  texts 
by  his  edition  of  the  Proven9al  epic  of  Fiera- 
bras*  Prof.  Voretzsch  then  draws  a  parallel 
between  German  and  French  epic  tradition, 
and  finds  that  the  former  has  mainly  been 
studied  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  propa- 
gation of  legendary  recitals,  whilst  the  latter 
has  been  investigated  chiefly  as  a  special  cate- 
gory of  literary  production.  This  difference 
in  treatment  he  considers  to  be  easily  explain- 

1  First   published  in   Die  Musen,  Eine  norddeutsche  Zeit- 
fchrift.   herausgegeben   von     Friedrich     Baron   de   la  Motte 
FouquS  und  Wilhelm  Neumann,  vol.  iii,  pp.  59-101,  and  vol. 
iv,   pp.    101-155.      In    1860   it   was   reprinted   in :     Uhlands 
Schriften  zur  Gesch.  der  D  icJitung  und  Sage ,  herausgegeben 
von  Ad.  Keller  und  Wilh.  Holland,  vol.  iv,  pp.  326-406. 

2  Der  Roman  von  Fierabras,  Provenzalisch .     Herausg. 
von  Immanuel  Bekker,  Berlin,  1829.    410. 


able  by  the  difference  in  the  two  traditions 
themselves:  the  development  of  the  German 
epic  is  shrouded  in  mystery  and  has  its  chief 
interest  as  a  mixture  of  myth  and  history, 
whereas  the  French  epic  has  arisen  within 
historic  times  and  presents  to  us  all  phases  of 
epic  literature  in  great  abundance.  Further- 
more, we  find  that  the  German  epic  is  of 
heathen  origin,  the  French  of  Christian  ;  the 
German  epic  has  a  great  central  point  in  the 
Nibelungenlied,  the  French  is  practically 
without  such,  for  its  tradition  does  not  centre 
in  the  Chanson  de  Roland  in  a  degree  at  all 
comparable  to  that  which  exists  in  the  case  of 
the  German  poem.  Finally,  as  embodying  a 
general  truth  with  regard  to  the  French  Epic, 
the  statement  may  be  made  that  it  is  the 
history  of  the  nation  in  its  heroic  period  em- 
bellished by  tradition  and  poetical  inspiration. 

GEORGE  C.  KEIDEL. 
Johns  Hopkins  University. 


CORRESPONDENCE. 


MIR  A  CLE  PL  A  YS. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS: — So  far  as  I  have  noticed,  the  histor- 
ians of  the  drama  do  not  find  positive  proof 
of  the  presentation  of  miracle  plays  earlier 
than  the  thirteenth  century.  Ebert,  for  ex- 
ample, in  his  Studien  zur  Geschichte  des 
Mittelalterlichen  Dramas'1  calls  a  reference  to 
the  repraesentatio  passionis  et  mortis  Christi, 
in  1244  "die  alteste  Nachricht  von  dem  geist- 
lichen  Schauspiele  der  Italiener."  Sometime 
since  in  reading  Bishop  Liutprand's  narrative 
of  his  embassy  to  Constantinople  in  968, 1  came 
across  a  passage  which  seemed  clearly  to 
prove  that  miracle  plays  existed  in  Constanti- 
nople in  the  tenth  century.  As  the  histories 
of  dramatic  literature  which  I  have  consulted 
make  no  reference  to  the  matter,  it  seemed 
worth  while  to  call  attention  to  the  passage 
in  question2  which  reads  as  follows  : 

Decimotertio  (i.  e.  Calendas  Augusti  [July 
20])  autem,  quo  die  leues  Graeci  raptionem 
Heliae  prophetae  ad  caelos  ludis  scenicis 
celebrant. 

1  Ja.hrb.ftir  rotnan  u.  Eng.  Lit.,  Bd.  v,  5.51. 

2  Liutprandi  Legatio,  31  Man.  Germ.  Hist.  SS.  iii,  353-4. 


62 


125          February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


126 


There  seems  to  be  no  doubt  that  Liutprand 
is  referring  to  a  miracle  play  and  that  his  use 
of  the  contemptuous  leues  indicates  not  only 
disapproval,  but  also  the  prejudice  of  previous 
unfamiliarity.  Krumbachers  takes  the  same 
view  of  the  passage,  concluding  with  the 
remark  : 

"So  kann  er  nichts  anderes  meinen  als  eine 
Art  von  Mysterienspiel." 

Possibly  additional  references  at  similar 
performances  might  be  found  in  Sathas' 
'ItiropiKov  8oHt/.nov  Ttf.pl  TOV  Osdrpiv  Hal 
TTJS  fj.ov6iHrj~,  r£>v  Bv^avrtvoav,  Venice,  1878, 
a  work  which  is  unfortunately  not  accessible 
to  me. 

An  interesting  question  arises  as  to  whether 
the  miracle  play  developed  independently  in 
Constantinople  and  in  Italy,  or  whether  the 
idea  was  introduced  into  western  Europe  by 
the  pilgrims,  crusaders  and  merchants  who 
frequented  Constantinople  so  generally  from 
the  tenth  to  the  thirteenth  centuries. 

EDWARD  G.  BOURNE. 
Yale  University. 


"  THE    DEVIL    AND    DOCTOR  FOS- 
TER." 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS  : — This  interesting  expression,  which 
at  once  suggests  a  relationship  with  the  Faust- 
sage,  is  used,  or  to  speak  more  accurately, 
has  been  used,  with  considerable  frequency  as 
an  everyday  phrase  in  certain  parts  of  Mary- 
land and  West  Virginia. 

It  is  not  so  popular  to-day  as  it  was  twe'nty- 
five  years  ago  and  is  confined  to  Maryland, 
more  particularly,  although  by  no  means 
exclusively  to  the  northern  part  of  the  state. 
The  fact  of  its  usage  in  other  parts  of  America 
would  seem,  however,  to  preclude  the  possi- 
bility of  it  being  a  provincialism.  The  origin 
of  the  saying  is  probably  to  be  found  in  the 
confusion  of  the  common  English  name  Fos- 
ter with  Doctor  Faustus — the  transition  being 
by  no  means  phonologically  impossible.  How- 
ever, to  speak  with  certainty  concerning  its 
origin,  a  fairly  complete  knowledge  of  its 
distribution  is  necessary.  This  brief  note  has 
therefore  been  written  in  the  hope  that  some 

3  Gesch.  der  Byzantinischen  Litteratur,  pp    297-298. 


one  may  be  able  to  contribute  something 
which  may  lead  to  the  satisfactory  explana- 
tion of  an  interesting  expression  that  is  fast 
going  out  of  use. 

THOMAS  STOCKHAM  BAKER. 
Johns  Hopkins  University. 


PERSONAL. 

Prof.  Edward  E.  Hale,  Jr.,  A.B.  (Harvard) 
1883,  Ph.  D,  (Halle)  1892,  has  been  called  from 
the  State,  University  of  Iowa  to  Union  College, 
Schenectady,  N.  Y.,  as  Professor  of  Rhetoric 
and  Logic. 

Mr.Wm.  Peters  Reeves  A.B.  (J.  H.  U.)  1889, 
Ph.  D.  (J.  H.  U.)  1893  has  been  appointed  In- 
structer  in  Rhetoric  at  Union  College. 

Mr.  James  P.  Kinard,  Graduate  of  the  South 
Carolina  Military  Academy,  1886,  Ph.  D., 
Johns  Hopkins  University  (Oct.  1895),  has  been 
elected  Professor  of  English  and  History  at 
the  Winthrop  Normal  and  Industrial  College, 
Rock  Hill,  S.  C.  Mr.  Kinard  has  prepared  a 
dissertation  on  Wulf starts  Homilies  in  regard 
to  Style  and  Sources,  which  will  be  published. 

It  is  announced  that  Dr.  F.  H.  Sykes  of  the 
Johns  Hopkins  University  has  been  appointed 
Professor  of  English  in  the  Western  University 
of  London,  Out.  The  Arts  faculty  of  this 
University,  which  has  just  been  established,  is 
the  third  of  its  faculties,  the  Divinity  faculty 
dating  from  1863,  and  the  Medical  from  1882. 
Other  members  of  the  new  faculty  are  the 
Rev.  B.  Watkins,  late  Scholar  of  Jesus  College, 
Cambridge,  Professor  of  Classics,  and  the 
Rev.  C.  B.  Guillemont,  of  the  Academy  of 
Paris,  Pr  >fessor  of  Modern  Languages. 

Dr.  Sykes  is  an  honor  graduate  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Toronto  and  was  scholar  and  fellow 
of  the  English  department  of  the  Johns  Hop- 
kins University,  receiving  his  doctor's  degree 
in  1894  on  a  dissertation  dealing  with  French 
Elements  in  Middle  English.  During  the  past 
year  he  lectured  in  the  graduate  department 
of  the  Johns  Hopkins  University  on  Romanic 
influences  on  English. 

Mr.  Glen  Levin  Swiggett  has  just  been 
placed  in  charge  of  the  German  Department 
of  Purdue  University  (La  Fayette,  Ind.). 

Having  been  appointed  Instructor  of  French 
and  German  in  the  University  of  Michigan  in 
1890  (see  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES,  Vol.  v,  p.  223), 
Mr.  Swiggett  devoted  some  time  to  work  on 
the  Canadian-French  dialects,  and  in  1892-1893 
spent  a  year  in  graduate  work  in  the  Johns 
Hopkins  University.  From  1893  to  1895  he 
served  as  Instructor  of  Modern  Languages  in 
Indianapolis  academies  and  in  the  Plymouth 
Institute  of  that  city,  passing  thence  to  his 
present  position. 


127          February,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  2. 


128 


JOURNAL  NOTICES. 
REVISTA  CRITICA  DE  HISTORIA  Y  LITERATURA 

ESPANOLAS.  AND  I,  NUM.  1-3.  Contents:  Marzo, 
1895:  Huebner,  E.,  Estudios  Ibericos,  por  J.Costa.— 
Glner  de  los  Rlos,  F.,  Discurso,  por  R.  Velasquez.— 
Llabres,  G.,  Privileg-ios  y  Franquicias  de  Mallorca, 
por  J.  M.  Quadrada.— Webster,  W.,  Santa  Teresa,  por 
G.  Cunninghame. — Jaime  el  Conquistador,  por  Dar- 
win Swift.— Judios  en  Espafia,  por  Jacobs— Historia 
de  Espaiia,  por  Burke.— La  Celestina,  por  Mabbe. — 
Diario  de  un  Oflcial,  por  Tomkinson.— Farlnelli,  A., 
Don  Juan,  por  F.  de  Simone  Brouwer.—  Menendez  y 
Pelayo,  A.,  Versos  Espafioles  y  Garcilasso  en  Italia, 
por  Croce. — Estudios  de  Historia  Literaria,  por  Fla- 
mini.— Codera,  F.,  Dominacion  Arabe,  por  Van  Vloten. 
Notas  Bibliograficos ;  Revista  de  Revistas ;  Comuni- 
caciones  y  Noticias,  por  J.  R.  Melida,  Webster,  K.  A.; 
Amena  Literatura,  por  Ochoa.  M.M.y  P. — Abril,  1895  : 
<  olarrlo,  E.,  Obras  de  Lope  de  Vega.— Chaeas,  K.,  Hi- 
storia de  Cullera,  por  A.  Piles.— Gomez,  I  in  a/,  M.,Nue- 
stra  Sefiora  de  Hegla,  por  J.  Gestoso.— Mapa,  P.,  Geol6- 
gico.— Menendez,  y  Pelayo,  Barlaam  y  Joasaph,  por 
Haan.— Villa,  Rodriguez,  Embajadores  Franceses,  por 
A.  Morel-Fatio.— de  Unamuno,  M.,  Vasco  y  Bereber, 
por  Gabelentz.— Pldal,  R.  Menendez,  Glosas  Espafiolas, 
por  Priebsch.— Melida,  J.  R.,  Diccionario  de  Antiglie- 
dades  Cristianas,  por  Martigny.— Fltzmaurlce-Keily, 
J.,  D.  Jaime  I,  por  Beazley.— W.  W.,  Espafia  y  la  Bi- 
blia,  por  Mayor. — Webster,W.,  Historia  de  Espafia,  por 
Burke.  —  Notas  Bibliograficas,  por  A.  R.  LI.  y 
R.  A. — Revista  de  Revistas.  —  Communicaciones  y 
Noticias.  —  Academia  de  la  Historia. —  Necrologias. 
— Noticias. — Amena  Literatura.— Ochoa,  J.,  Teresa, 
por  Alas.— Torquemada  y  San  Pedro,  Literatura  Cata- 
lana  en  1894,  por  A.  R.  LI. -Mayo,  1895;  Morel-Fatio, 
A.,  Retratos  de  Antafto,  por  el  P.  Coloma.— de  los  Rlos, 
A.,  Santofia  Militar,  por  R.  Bruna.—  Garcia,  J.,  Cata- 
Una,  Sigilograffa,  por  J.  Mourillo.— del  Mazo,  S.Garcia, 
Prehistoria  de  Sevilla,  por  Candau. — Guichot,  A.,  Se- 
villa  Prehist/irica,  por  CaKal.— Costa,  J.,  Espafla  en  la 
Biblia,  por  Vigil.— de  Araujo,  J.,Catalogo,  L.  daCunha. 
— Duro,  C.  Fernandez,  Cartas,  por  Oliveira  Martins.— 
Farlnelli,  A.— Egloga  de  Lope  de  Vega,  por  Conti.— 
de  I  iiaiiiiiiio,  M.,  Seguros  del  Ganado,  por  Webster. — 
Notas  Bibliograflcas.— Revista  de  Revistas.— Litera- 
tura. 

ZEITSCHRIFT  FUER   FRANZOESISCHE  SPRACHE 
UNO    LlTTERATUR.     BAND    XVIII,    HEFT     l~4. 

Contents:  Freymond,  E.,  BeitrHge  zur  Kenntnis 
der  Altfranzdsischen  Artusromane  in  Prosa.  — 
Behrens,  D.,  Mitteilungen  aus  Carl  Ebenau's  Tage- 
buch.— Schneegans,  Helnrieh,  Geschichte  der  Grotes- 
ken  Satire  (Karl  Groos).— Voretzsch,  t'arl.  Die  FranzO- 
sische  Heldensage  (Wolfgang  Golther). — Scholl,  Sig- 
in u nil,  Die  Vergleiche  in  Montchrestiens  TragiJdien 
(R.  Mahrenholtz).—  Rudershausen,  A.,  Pretiose  Char- 
actere  und  Wendungen  in  Corneille's  Tragb'dien  (R. 
Mahrenholtz).— v.  d.  Usten,  Jenny,  Luise  Dorothee, 
Herzogin  von  Sachsen-Gotha,  1733-1767  (R.  Mahren- 


holtz).—Schmidt,  Karl,  Die  Grlinde  des  Bedeutungs- 
wandels  (K.  Morgenroth).  —  Zatelll,  Domenlco,  La 
DeuxiemeAnneedeGrammaire(J.  Ellinger).--Rlcken, 
Wilh.,  Neues  Elementarbuch  der  Franzo'sischen 
Sprache  fUr  Gymnasien  und  Realgymnasien  (E.  von 
Sallwurk).— Ohlert,  Arnold,  Deutsch-Franzb'sisches 
Dbungsbuch  (Block).— Wolter,  E.,  Frankreich :  Ge- 
schichte, Land  und  Leute  (Block).— Scnlld,  Elemen- 
tarbuch der  Franzb'sischen  Sprache  nach  den  Grund- 
sHtzen  der  Anschauungsmethode  und  unter  Benutz- 
ung  der  Acht  HOlzel'schen  Wandbilder  Verfasst  (K. 
Roeth).—  Rahn,  H.,  Lesebuch  ftlr  den  Franzo'sischen 
Unterricht  auf  den  [Jnteren  und  Mittleren  Stufe 
Ho'herer  Lehranstalten  in  Land,  Art  und  Geschichte 
des  Fremden  Volkes  (Felix  Kalepky).— Rossmann,  Ph., 
Wie  Lehrt  Man  in  Frankreich  die  Deutsche  Sprache  ?. 
— Rousst* lot,  P.,  Le  Cours  de  Vacances  de  Greifswald. 
— Koschwltz,  E.,  Ferienkurse  in  Greifswald  1895.- 
Novitatenverzeichnis.— Meyer-Luebke,  Wllhelm.Gram- 
matik  der  Romanischen  Sprachen  (D.  Behrens).— 
Pipping,  Hugo,  Die  Lehre  von  den  VokalklHngen  (Ph. 
Wagner).— Schulze,  Alfr.,  Predigten  des  Heiligen  Bern- 
hard  in  Altfranzftsischer  Ubertragung  aus  Einer 
Handschrift  der  Konigl.  Bibliothek  zur  Berlin  (Karl 
Buscherbruck).— Reissenberger,  Karl,  Des  Hundes  N6t 
(Carl  Voretzsch).  — Benecke,  Albert,  Franzosische 
Schul-Grammatik  (J.  Block).— Stein,  Lehrgang  der 
Franzosischen  Sprache  im  Anschluss  an  die  Lehr- 
p!8ne  vom  Jahre  1891  (K.  Roeth).— Kron,  R.,  Guide 
Epistolaire  (Th.  de  Beaux).  —  Ploetz-Kares,  Schul- 
grammatik  der  Franzb'sischen  Sprache  in  Kurzer 
FassunK '(Jos.  Aymeric).— Dlckmann,  Otto  E.  A.,  Fran- 
zb'sische  und  Englische  Schulbibliothek  (G-  Soldan). 
— Quayzln,  Henry,  Premieres  Lectures  Dediees  aux 
Classes  Moyennes  des  Ecoles  Superieures  de  Jeunes 
Filles  (F.  Db'rr).— Zola,  Emlle,  Lourdes(E.  Netto).— 
Ohnt't,  Georges,  La  Dame  en  Gris  (E.  Netto).— Gyp, 
Tante  Jou jou  (R.  Mahrenholtz).— Jacot,  Auguste.  Vingt 
Ans  Apres  (R.  Mahrenholtz).— Roerting,  G.,  Das  Per- 
fect im  Romanischen.— Weyhe,  E.,  Boileaus  Sechste 
Epistel  in  Freier  Nachbildung.  —  Andrae,  A.,  Zum 
Volksliede.— NovitStenverzeichnis. 

ARKIV  FOER  NORDISK  FlLOLOGI.  NEW  SERIES. 
VOL.  VIM.  PART  2-— Wlklund,  K.  B.,  Om  kvaneina 
och  deras  nationalitet.— Nygaard,  M.,  Karr  Oldn.  er 
vaere  particula  expletiva?— Kock,  Axel,  Till  fragan 
om  u-  omljudet  i  fornnorskan.— Klackhoff,  0..  De  nor- 
diska  framstailning-arna  af  Tellsagan. — Nordfelt,  Al- 
fred, En  fransk-svensk  etymologi.— Detter,  F.,  An- 
mHlan  av  "Sophus  Bugge,  Bidrag  til  den  seldste 
skaldedigtnings  historie.— Olrik,  Axel,  skald  som  til- 
navn. — Laefller,  L.  Fr.,  Annu  en  gang  sijosteR. 

DANIA.   VOL.  in.    PART  4.— Jespersen,  otto,  En 

sproglig  vterdiforskydning. — Slesbye,  0.,  Bermaerk- 
ninger  til  ovenstaende  afhandling^—  Feilberg,  H.  F., 
Bidrag  til  skrfeddernes  saga.— Krlstensen,  M.,  A.  Kock 
och  C.  af  Petersons:  Ostnordiska och  latinska  medel- 
tidsordspruk. 


64 


MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES. 


Baltimore,  March,    1896. 

FRANCE,    FILOLOGY,    FONETICISM 
AND  POETIC  FORMULAE. 

I. 

THERE  are  two  perpetual  proofs  of  French 
intellectual  activity ;  the  first  is  found  in  the 
variety  and  vitality  of  a  kaleidoscopic  Kalaes- 
theticism — if  we  may  be  our  own  Symbolists — 
which  is  continually  starting  schools  in  poetry, 
the  arts,  and  has  even  a  share  in  the  develop- 
ment of  political  theories  highly-colored  and 
picturesque  if  not  always  practicable ;  the 
other  appears  in  the  cry  for  reforms,  or  in  the 
remaking  and  polishing  of  the  old.  Hence 
Paris  is  still  the  pivot  of  initiative  in  both 
sociological  and  scholastic  radicalism,  just  as, 
by  the  curious  combination  of  paradoxical 
elements  in  French  character  and  political 
constitution,  it  remains  the  stronghold  of 
much  state  and  academic  conservatism.  The 
restless  spirit  of  investigation  and  the  habit  of 
precision  in  expression,  trained  through  cen- 
turies, has  splendidly  developed  schools  of 
syntactical  study  and  the  growth  of  scientific 
grammar  in  addition  to  good  or  bad  attempts 
in  artistic  and  literary  experimentalism ;  the 
result  is  that  France  has  definitely  reached  her 
Romantic  revival,  destructive  and  construc- 
tive, in  Grammar. 

Parisian  centres  are  practical  as  well  as 
prolific  in  their  ideas,  and  the  presence  of  cer- 
tain similar  points  at  issue  in  the  English 
language,  upon  which  the  French  status  may 
throw  light,  but  particularly  the  independent 
appearance  in  France  of  certain  theories,  the 
persistence  of  others,  and  the  plea  for  wide- 
reaching  reforms  lends  interest  to  their  notice. 

I. 

The  aphorism,  then,  as  to  "Frenchmen, 
that  is,  Grammarians"  has  peculiar  force. 
The  logical  qualities  of  their  mind  and  their 
language ;  the  clearness  of  the  medium  for 
expressing  the  qualities ;  the  subtle  shading 
of  sense  and  word,  contribute  to  create  for 
the  French  an  interest  in  the  study  of  a  sub- 
ject which  their  treatment  and  literary  style 
rescue  from  the  dryness  usually  inherent  in 


such  a  theme.  The  status  of  the  men  who 
have  busied  themselves  with  it  assures  this. 
Scholars  and  satirists,  poets  and  philosophers, 
comic  writers  and  novelists,  have  either  hurled 
or  brought  a  brick  to  shatter  or  to  sustain  the 
grammatical  structure.  No  literature  offers 
such  a  sequence  in  this  connection  as  the 
brilliant  line  from  Vaugelas  to  Voltaire ;  the 
Marots,  Manages  and  Malherbes,  "  tyran  des 
mots  et  des  syllabes  ;  "  Ronsard,  "  prince  of 
poets,"  and  the  Ple'iade ;  and  the  band  of 
witty,  caustic  reformers  of  Rhetoric  by  ridicu- 
ling its  extravagances:  Moliere,  Sorel,Scarron, 
Saint  Evremond.  When  we  add  the  profound 
and  permanent  influence  of  the  Pre"cieuses, 
more  powerful  than  any  corresponding  move- 
ment on  the  continent;  the  element  well-sum- 
med up  by  Somaize  when  he  says  :  "  De  tout 
temps  il  y  eut  des  femmes  d'esprit;"  the 
serious  study  of  the  subject  by  men  of  the 
type  of  Maupertuis  and  Condillac ;  and  the 
host  of  rigorous  Grammarians  inferior  yet 
most  important,  we  can  better  gauge  the 
heredity  in  France  of  such  a  discussion,  which 
has  taken  new  life  and  new  forms  and  in- 
creased power  because  based  upon  principles, 
philosophical,  practical,  and  even  pecuniary 
and  political. 

II. 

Three  books  which  present  three  phases  of 
the  reform  cover  the  main  points.  In  the 
Lexique  de  Ronsard'1  just  published  we  find  a 
much-needed  defense  of  the  poet  from  the 
charges,  now  classical,  of  his  lack  of  patriotism 
for  his  own  tongue,  and  his  enthusiasm  for 
external  and  therefore  alien-to-French  expres- 
sions. Limiting  ourselves  to  two  of  M.  Mel- 
lerio's  chapters  we  may  well  see  that  Ronsard 's 
rehabilitation  is  sufficiently  complete,  and  that 
the  invention  of  the  words  Ronsardize,  Ron- 
sardism,  and  Ronsardist  need  not  be  more  of 
a  reproach  than  the  epithetizing  characteristic 
of  the  rise  of  the  Romantic  revival. 

i  Lexique  de  Ronsard,  precfidd  d'une  <'tude  sur  son  voca- 
bulaire,  son  orthographe  et  sa  syntaxe  par  L.  Mellerio,  Pro- 
fesseur  au  lyce'e  Janson  de  Sailly,  &c.,  et  d'une  preface  par 
M.  Petit  de  Julleville.  Paris,  E.  Plon,  Nourrit  et  Cle,  1895 
(the  latest  (17151.)  volume  in  the  Bibliothique  Elzevir ienne, 
completing  the  Ronsard  series,  vii  (now  viii)  vols.,  1857- 
1867).  Two  new  Branthomes  make  the  number  173. 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


132 


If  we  owe  much  to  Boileau,  yet  his  baseless 
critical  condemnation  of  Ronsard  is  on  a  par 
with  his  ignorance  of  pre-Villonic  poetry. 
The  persistence  of  this  judgment  has  survived 
to  this  day,  and  it  speaks  much  for  conserva- 
tive power  in  literature  that  no  one  has 
hitherto  absolutely  verified,  or  in  this  result, 
disproved  Despre"aux'  dictum.  The  Bacchic 
hymn  which  gave  the  particular  proof  of  the 
poet's  literary  sins  was  written,  it  seems,  says 
his  contemporary  Claude  Binet,  by  Bertrand 
Bergier  de  Montembeuf.  So  Ronsard's  re- 
grets at  the  impossibility  of  speaking  in 
French,  or  claim  that  his  French  verses  can 
be  understood  only  by  Greeks  and  Romans, 
mean  respectively,  that,  as  he  says  :2  "  nostre 
langue  ne  pouvait  exprimer  ma  conception," 
and  that  knowledge  of  classical  mythology 
can  alone  predicate  appreciation  of  his  theme. 
And  in  his  words,  which  had  already  been 
marked  by  the  writer  for  this  purpose,  before 
he  became  acquainted  with  M.  Mellerio's 
book,  we  find  the  following  theories  : 

1.  His  love  of  French,  in  the  preface  to  the 
Franciade  .-3 

"Je  te  conseille  d'apprendre  diligemment 
la  langue  grecque  et  latine,  voire  italienne  et 
espagnole  ;  puis,  quand  tu  les  scauras  parfaite- 
ment,  te  retirer  en  ton  enseigne  comme  un 
bon  soldat,  et  composer  en  ta  langue  mater- 
nelle,  comme  a  fait  Homere,  Hesiode,  Platon, 
Aristote  et  Theophraste,  Virgile,  Tite-Live, 
Salluste,  Lucrece  et  mille  autres,  qui  parloient 
meme  langage  que  les  laboureurs,  valets  et 
chambrieres.  Car  c'est  un  crime  de  leze 
majest6  d'abandonner  le  langage  de  son  pays, 
vivant  et  florissant  pour  vouloir  deterrer  je  ne 
scay  quelle  cendre  des  anciens." 

2.  He  wishes  to  incorporate  dialectic  forms 
{Franciade,  and  Art  Poetique). 

3.  He  counsels  reviving  Old  French  :4 

"Tu  ne  rejetteras  point  les  vieux  mots  de 
nos  romans." 

"De  remettre  en  usage  les  antiques  vocables 
et  principalement  ceux  du  langage  wallon  et 
picard  lequel  nous  reste  par  tant  de  siecles, 
1'exemple  naif  de  la  langue  francoise ;  "  and 
"choisir  les  mots  les  plus  pregnans  et  signifi- 
catifs  non  seulement  dudit  langage  mais  de 
toutes  les  provinces  de  France,  "s 

He  elsewhere  in  the  Poetique  mentions 
other  dialects. 


2  Vol.  vii,  p.  178. 

3  (Euvres,  Vol.  iii,  p.  34. 

4  Art  Poetique,  Vol.  vii,  p.  320. 


5  Franciiide. 


M.  Mellerio  also  gives  the  interesting  passage, 
quoting  Ronsard's  "testament"  in  which  he 
urges  not  to  "  e'corcher  le  latin,"  nor  to  lose 
"natural  French  vocables"  and  these  "old 
terms."  On  the  other  hand,  he  allows  the 
creation  of  new  words  :6  "Pourveu  qu'ils  soient 
moulez  et  faconnez  sus  un  patron  desja  receu 
du  people." 

Of  Ronsard's  vocabulary  in  his  almost  one 
hundred  thousand  lines,  of  their  almost  ex- 
clusive French  character,  of  his  independence, 
and  his  mistake  in  composing  French  words 
by  Greco-Latin  imitation,  we  need  not  speak. 
Interesting  as  the  subject  is,  we  are  not, 
however,  discussing  creation  of  words,  but 
criticism  of  existing  ones,  for  modern  gram- 
matical reform  is  more  occupied  with  present 
and  past  conditions,  which,  once  settled,  will 
necessarily  condition  the  future.  Leaving 
aside  also  his  Syntax,  his  Orthography  re- 
quires a  few  statements. 

The  sixteenth  century,  like  the  nineteenth, 
saw  two  schools  of  orthography.  Rabelaisian 
chaos,  purposely  increased  for  both  comic 
effect  and  political  safeguard,  had  still  further 
helped  the  being  a  law  unto  oneself  in  spelling, 
and  the  ignorance  of  reasons  for  preferences 
in  some  forms  to  the  exclusion  of  others. 
Ramus  represented  phonetic  reform  in  his 
Graniere  fransoeze,  as  did  Jacques  Peletier  in 
his  Dialogue  de  r ortografe  et  prononciation 
fransoeze,  and  Maigret.  Authors  believed, 
because  of  their  learning,  in  etymological 
orthography.  Ronsard,  inclining  to  the  for- 
mer, ostensibly  adopted  the  latter  theory,  but 
in  reality,  like  all  of  the  writers  of  the  time, 
used  a  poetic  pleasure  and  a  license  dictated 
by  rhythmic  or  rhymic  factors.  But  Ronsard's 
theories  may  well  serve  as  a  decalogue  of 
modern  criticism  and  a  proof  of  the  justice  of 
modern  demands,  as  we  shall  see,  and  a  plea 
for  return  to  'old  things  best.'  Take  some 
usages,  or  rules  of  Ronsard,  or  recommenda- 
tions :  i,  He  elides  i,  as  in  ni\  and  defends 
the  same  for  o  and  u  as  do  "  the  Italians,  or 
rather  the  Greeks."?  The  /-elision  might  well 
be  restored.  So  elision  of  a  final  unpro- 
nounced  consonant  for  purposes  of  rhyme.8 
But  though  his  counsels  apply  more  particu- 

6  Franciade,  Vol.  iii,  p.  32. 

7  Vol.  vii,  p.  326.         8  ibid.,  p.  328. 


66 


133 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


134 


larly  to  poetry,  prose  and  euphony  can  profit 
by  them  as  well. 

So,  2,  the  s  of  the  first  singular  of  verbs  is 
to  be  dependent  upon  the  avoidance  of  hiatus;9 
3,  superfluous  etymological  letters  are  to  be 
suppressed;10  4,  z  and  k  are  to  be  restored, 
and  to  displace  the  duality  of  use  of  c  and  q; 
5,  the  assimilation  of  proper  names  to  the  ver- 
nacular;11 6,  actual  words  shall  be  the  basis 
of  compounds.12 

So  again,  in  the  Advertissement  au  lecteur 
preceding  the  Odessa  we  find  the  same  or 
other  suggestions  looking  7,  to  the  dropping 
of  etymological  y  (though  retaining  it  as  final 
for  i) ;  8,  the  change  of  ph  to/;  9,  the  creation 
of  characters  equivalent  to  the  phones  //,  gn, 
ch  ;  10,  or  consonantal  i  and  u  (j  and  v).  So, 
also,  he  quite  consistently  puts  eT  or  eir  for 
elle.  His  greatest  claim  seems  to  have  been 
the  introduction  of  the  euphonic  /  between 
inverted  verb  and  pronoun  (though  M.  Mellerio 
suggests  that  he  simply  generalized  popular 
usage  which  had  intercalated  the  t  by  analogy 
with  other  conjugations  ;  this  in  spite  of  Remy 
Belleau's  statement  as  to  Ronsard's  invention 
of  it).  But  we  may  sum  up  Ronsard's  position, 
first  by  his  statements ;  next,  by  his  honest 
independence : 

"  Tu  n'auras  soucy  de  ce  que  le  vulgaire 
dira  de  toy,  d'autant  que  les  Poe'tes,  comme 
les  plus  hardis,  out  les  premiers  forg6  et  com- 
pose" les  mots ;  "M 

"  Je  supplie  tres-humblement  ceux  ausquels 
les  muses  ont  inspir6  leur  faveur  de  n'estre 
plus  latineurs  ni  grecaniseurs,  comme  ils  sont 
plus  par  ostentation  que  par  devoir,  et  prendre 
pitie",  comme  bons  enfants,  de  leur  pauvre 
mere  naturelle.'^s 

The  changes  are  proposed,  because  : 

"  Quant  a  notre  escriture,elle  est  fort  vicieuse 
et  corrompue,  et  me  semble  qu'elle  a  grand 
besoin  de  reformation."16 
so,  the  Caprice,  Tout  est  perdu  :X7 

"  Promeine-toy  dans  les  plaines  Attiques, 
Fay  nouveaux  mots,  r'appelle  les  antiques, 
Voy  les  Remains         ..... 
Lors  sans  viser  aux  jalouses  attaintes 
Des  mal-vueillans,  formes-en  les  douceurs 
Que  Melpomene  inspire  dans  les  coeurs! 

9  ibid.,  p.  333.  10  ibid,,  p.  334.  n  ibid.,-$.  335. 

12  ibid.,  p.  336.  13  p.  14. 

14  Art  Poetique,  Vol.  vii,  p.  335. 

15  Franciade,  Vol.  lii,  p.  35.        16  Ibid.,  p.  36. 

17  Recue il  des  Poemes,  Vol.  vi,  p.  329. 


J'ay  fait  ainsi :  toutesfois  ce  vulgairt, 
A  qui  jamais  je  n'ay  peu  satisfaire, 
N'y  n'ay  voulu,  me  fascha  tellement 
De  son  japper  en  mon  advenement, 
Quand  je  hantay  les  eaux  de  Castalie, 
Que  nostre  langue  en  est  moins  embellie.1' 

And  finally  that  fine  passage  of  the  Poeti- 
que^>  where  the  poet  states  his  creed  again 
when  he  says : 

"Ne  se  faut  soucier,  comme  je  1'ay  dit  tant 
de  fois,  de  ('opinion  que  pourroit  avoir  le 
peuple  de  tes  escrits,  tenant  pour  re"gle  toute 
asseure"e  qu'il  vaut  mieux  servir  a  la  verite" 
qu'a  1'opinion  du  peuple." 

Ronsard's  theories  yielded  somewhat  in 
practice ;  or,  as  M.  Mellerio,  who  does  not 
seem  to  have  included  the  above  passages, 
perhaps  to  avoid  repetition,  closes  his  dis- 
cussion of  the  orthography  by  saying  : 

"Qu'il  y  eut  en  ,lui  deux  hommes :  1'un 
pr6nant  avec  ardeur  line  me"thode  qu'il  jugeait 
tres  digne  d'illustrer  la  langue,  1'autre  trop 
e"c!air£  et  trop  circonspect  pour  la  pratiquer 
re"solument." 

III. 

Ronsard's  position  is  obviously  a  starting- 
point.  Back  of  him  was  only  the  unformed 
Modern  French.  His  prominence  and  associ- 
ation with  the  Pl£iade  increase  the  value  of 
his  suggestions,  and  their  statement  again  in 
this  new  book  shows  the  perpetuity  of  his 
principles.  To  note  the  changes  from  his  at- 
tempts to  Voltaire,  would  be  a  study  of  his- 
torical grammar,  or  of  statements  as  admirable 
as  the  individual  themes,  for  instance,  of  Prof. 
Matzke,T9  or  the  general  discussion  in  the 
brilliant  book  of  M.  Vernier;20  to  state  all 
present  conditions  would  be  to  give  a  resume" 
of.  Lesaint.21  Accepting  the  language  as  we 
find  and  read  it,  we  can  see  the  sense  and 
force  of  the  reforms  hanging  in  the  balance  in 
France,  between  Academy  dilatoriness  and 
unpermeated  popular  opinion,  but  set  forth  in 
the  caustic  and  compelling  arguments  of  M. 

18  Vol.  vii,  p.  336. 

19  "On  the  Pronunciation  of  French  Nasal   Vowels  in  the 
xvi  and  xvii  Centuries,"  Publictaions  of  the    Modern    Lan- 
guage Association  of  America,  Vol.  ix,  no. 3. 

20  Atude  sur  Voltaire  Grammairitn  et  la  Gratnmairt  au 
xviiie  Siecfe,  Paris,  1888. 

21  Traite1  complet  de  la  Prononciation  frattfaise  dans   la 
seconde  maitie  du  xixe  liecle.     Halle,  1890. 


135 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


136 


Renard's  pamphlet.22 

The  question  is  a  vital  one  to  France.  If, 
as  runs  the  political  aphorism,  her  colonial 
question  is  the  Rhine,  yet  in  the  larger  ex- 
pansion which  is  to  help  her,23  orthographic 
reform  plays  a  large  part.  France,  whose 
ratio  of  population  to  the  rest  of  Europe  has 
decreased  from  38  per  100  in  the  year  1700  to 
13  per  loo  in  i88o,24  now  sees  her  idiom  strug- 
gling in  Belgium  with  Flemish,  in  Switzerland 
with  German  and  Italian,  in  Luxembourg  with 
German,  in  Canada  with  English,  and  in 
Tunis  with  an  Italian  more  easily  assimilated 
by  the  child  because  of  greater  orthoepic  and 
less  orthographic  characteristics.  And  it  is 
this  which  gives  national  as  well  as  literary 
point  to  the  petition  of  M.  Havet,  praying  for 
Academic  imprimatur  on  its  reforms,  and 
signed  by  the  three  directors  of  instruction 
(primary,  secondary,  and  superior),  by  forty 
members  of  the  Institute,  two  hundred  and 
fifty  University  professors,  one  thousand  pro- 
fessors of  Lyc£es  and  Colleges,  and  thousands 
of  male  and  female  school-teachers,  all  this 
backed  by  the  Alliance francaise,  that  propa- 
ganda in  pedagogics,  founded  for  the  patriotic 
purpose  of  stimulating  the  study  of  the  lan- 
guage in  foreign  parts. 

We  need  not  rehearse  the  arguments  pro 
and  con  of  the  phonetic  school  and  its  oppo- 
nents, and  show  how  even  in  its  irregularities 
French  orthography  is  assimilated  with  pho- 
neticism  and  that  laws  of  pronunciation  un- 
consciously take  precedence  over  any  other. 
The  plea  for  phonetic  treatment  in  large  part 
coincides  with  that  of  its  adversaries,  the 
etymologists,  in  the  demand  for  clarification 
and  the  purification  from  excrescent  or  epen- 
thetic letters.  French  orthography,  too,  has 
its  own  historical  development,  clear  and 
comparatively  simple.  Persistent  attempt  at 
violation  of  principle  does  not  improve  and 
only  destroys  etymology  itself.  And  the  mass 
of  incongruities  and  inconsistencies,  the  false 
analogies  and  pedantic  re-integrations  have 

22  La  Nouvelle  Orthogmphe,  par  Auguste  Renard,  Pre- 
fesseur  de   1'Universit ':,   etc.,   with   preface   by    M.   Haret, 
professor  of  the  College  de  France,  Paris,  1893. 

23  Cf.  articles   like   "L'Essor  exterieur  de  la  France," 
Revue  ties  Deux  Monties,  1893,  Vol.  3. 

24  Bertillon's  tables. 


obscured  the  facile,  the  natural,  and  the  truth 
of  linguistic  law  found  in  the  earlier  or  middle 
period  of  the  literature.  Examples  become 
too  numerous  to  quote  more  than  one  of  each 
under  a  few  of  the  points  criticized  by  reform- 
ers or  proposed  by  them,  and  which  prove  the 
force  of  their  attack,  one  free  from  ridiculous 
reformations  and  graphical  propositions  which 
complicate  things  so  much  as  to  excite  justly 
the  "gaiety  of  nations,"  and  where  no  volapuk 
vagaries  hinder  immediate  adoption. 

1.  Were    French    purely    etymological    we 
should  write  hon  for  on  (homo),  ci-jit  (jacere) 
geaune  (galbinus). 

2.  If  phantome    has    given  fanttme,    what 
hinders  filosofie,  fotografie  (cf.  Spanish  sim- 
plicity and  Italian  usage);  \iferais  why  not 
fesais,   if  rhythme  has  sunk  to  rythme,  why 
not  rytme. 

3.  So  with  doigt  to  be  like  doi(b)t  (as  cog- 
noistre  dropped  g  and  s),  and  all  parasitic,  and 
some  double  letters    vin(g)t,  t(h)tatre,  se(p)t, 
at(f)endre.    M.  Renard  in  his  witty  piece  of 
professorial    pamphleteering    has     succinctly 
stated  in  a  personal  and  condensed  form  the 
changes  desired,  and  drawn  admirable  illustra- 
tions from  other  grammarians  as  well. 

4.  Change  of  letters  of  mixed  or  more  than 
single  pronunciations  :  t  as  /  or  as  ^ ;  c  as  k  or 
as  s ;  x  as  es  or  gz  or  z  or  k ;  il  as  Hie  or  ie. 

5.  Change  in  letters  of  double  use,  as  c,  k,q, 
which  could  be  reduced  to  one;  so  an,  en,  em, 
ean,  aon  (ancien,  encore,  empire,  Jean,  paon), 
all  pronounced  ali'ce  but  spelled  di T^rent'y. 

6.  Abolition  of  the  doubled  ;/  or  /  in  feminine 
nouns  and  adjectives ;  for  we  have  its  excep- 
tion \n-ain,  -in,  sometimes  -an. 

7.  Abolition  of  -x  plurals. 

8.  Simplification    of   compound-noun_  com- 
plications and  of  plurals  of  foreign  words. 

9.  Reduction  of  -yer,  -eler  and  -eter  verbs 
to  a  similar  basis. 

10.  Obviation  of  dual  difficulties  in  phrases 
such  as : 

"  Us  usent  a" 'expedient  et  expedient  des 
portions  qu'il  faut  que  nous  portions  .aux 
poules  du  convent  pour  qu'elles  convent. 

11.  Assimilation   to  others   of  all    forms  of 
Latin  ab  or  ac  origin  (acadeinie  and  accablerf 
aperc evoir  and  apparaitref). 

M.    Renard    devotes  some  of  his  argument 


68 


137 


March,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


138 


to  answering  objections  that  these  changes 
would  distort,  if  not  also  debase,  the  historical 
heredity  of  the  language.  But  tradition  be- 
fore the  tampering  of  the  post-Renaissance 
reformers  is  the  strongest  argument  to  back 
this  seemingly  radical  treatment,  as  the  slight- 
est scholarship  will  show.  If  the  fear  of  indi- 
vidualism— the  independence  of  each  writer — 
is  present,  the  greatest  literary  epochs  of 
France  had  it,  and  the  public  chaos  or  personal 
caprice  in  writing  stopped  in  no  way  the 
march  of  phoneticism,  as  outlined  in  the  suc- 
cessive prefaces  of  the  Academy  dictionaries. 
Paleographical  charts  which  have  recently  so 
multiplied  in  France,  as  well  as  the  merest 
study,  prove  this  at  a  glance.  So,  also,  dia- 
lectic deviations  offer  no  danger ;  the  clearest 
and  most  perfect  pronunciation,  the  Parisian, 
open  only  to  the  charge  of  its  grasseyement, 
will  keep  the  supremacy  it  has  had  because  of 
a  capital's  influence,  literary  superiority,  and 
as  the  best  medium  for  the  clarifying  of 
rougher  exceptions  in  the  provincial  speech. 
But  phonetic  evolution  has  always  been  the 
law  of  the  language,  and  the  greater  its  de- 
velopment, the  closer  will  be  the  assimilation 
to  the  classically  ignorant  but  phonetically 
simple  orthography  of  the  Roland  period.  M. 
Renard  sees  the  reason  for  this  century's 
stagnation  in  an  advance,  in  the  imperial 
rulings  which  fastened  upon  France  an  official 
orthography,  and  he  looks  to  the  recoil  of 
Republicanism  in  writing  as  in  politics  to  alter 
this  antiquated  scheme. 

If,  however,  the  objection  be  taken  from 
etymology  so-called,  the  glaring  incongruities 
condemn  the  critics  of  the  new  movement. 
If  Latin  and  Greek  words  are  to  be  the  abso- 
lute basis  of  French  words,  then,  for  instance, 
all  English  words  already  assimilated  are  to 
be  Anglicized  anew,25  for  a  consistent  creed 
must  rule  in  language.  For  if,  as  is  the  case, 
the  sounds  of  foreign  tongues  have  been 
Gallicized,  the  writing  of  them  should  also  be 
thus  modified.  The  inconsistency  grows  by 
the  partial  preservation  or  excision  of  letters 
(ba/t£me,  ecri(p)t),  or  the  interchanged  use  of 
/  and  s  sounds;  if  ch  in  echo  has  a  £-sound, 
why  should  c  in  cant  not  be  pronounced  cliaiitl 

25  On  this  point,  cf.  Lesaint's  statements  in  reference  to 
French  adoption  of  foreign  words  and  their  pronunciation. 


And,  again,  etymological  letters  do  not  teach 
the  savant  the  origin  of  words,  much  less,  the 
ignorant.  But  the  finishing  point  is  put  to  a 
weak  defense  by  the  comparison  of  inconsis- 
tencies drawn  from  a  similar  source :  ph  rep- 
resents they"-sound  in  physique,  photographic; 
fantaisie,  frtnetique;  the  first  phonetic  ele- 
ments of  theatre,  th"eme,  trdne,  tresor,  are 
all  from  Greek  th ;  so  the  osound  in  cholira 
and  colere  is  given  one  graphic  sign ;  so, 
idylle  and  asile ;  psychologic  and  metem- 
psycose;  holocauste  and  olographe.  A  similar 
huge  list  is  found  in  Latin  transferences,  where 
t=c  or  //  /=/  or  //,  qu=qu  or  c ,  au=au  or  o, 
and  o  gives  four  different  <?«-sounds.  These 
results  have  led  to  insertions  in  the  French  of 
letters  not  even  etymological :  dom(p)tert 
(h)uile,  hom(m)e,  etc.  And  so  arises  the  in- 
justice of  pronouncing  annexion,  direction, 
occupation,  passion,  alike,  and  teaching  quad- 
ruple difficulty. 

The  fear  of  disturbance  due,  in  education 
or  in  commerce,  to  the  introduction  of  such 
vast  changes  is  easily  conjured  by  the  ease  of 
past  partial  attempts  and  the  example  of 
Spanish  and  Italian  experiment  and  even 
German,  while  the  new  processes  will  be 
natural  to  a  new  generation,  and  more  easily 
taught.  And  if  printers  and  publishers,  loaded 
with  types  and  books,  oppose  the  reform,  the 
reduction  of  characters  reducing  time  in  com- 
position and  paper,  may  also  reduce  price, 
and  double  sales  may  compensate  for  a  sup- 
posed loss.  This,  of  course,  is  not  merely  a 
French,  but  a  universal  argument.. 

From  phonetic  reform  will  flow  fixity  of  the 
language  and  opposition  to  the  growing  danger 
that  pronunciation  will  adapt  itself  to  ortho- 
graphy, instead  of  the  latter  to  the  former, 
thus  ruining  the  facile  beauty  and  flow  of 
French,  and  bringing  back  the  harsher  ele- 
ments which  the  early  language  had  so  prop- 
erly expunged  as  not  suited  to  the  sound  nor 
spirit  of  the  language. 

And  all  dangers  will  be  avoided  by  limiting 
the  reform  by  principles  of  the  clearness  of 
the  discourse,  and  retaining  the  individuality 
of  words,  as  well  as  homonyms  whose  change 
would  lend  to  ambiguity  (mer,  niere,  ma-ire), 
or  grammatical  form  be  obscured  {cruel, 
cruelle);  those  already  similar  (grtve,  gr~eve, 


69 


I39  March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


140 


bftre,  bilre)  numbering  about  one  hundred 
and  twenty-nine,  must  unfortunately  remain 
exceptions.  Final  root  consonants,  betraying 
origin,  are  also  to  be  retained  (ar(t),  cour(t)). 
Thus  from  the  hundreds  of  modifications  pro- 
posed appear  the  following  rules  : — 

1.  Suppression  of  mute  h  after  c  or  t. 

2.  Of  ph,  made  into/. 

3.  Of  jx=simple  /. 

4.  Of  double  letters  where  pronounced  sin- 

gly- 

5.  Each  sound  to  be  represented  by  a  sign, 

letter  or  group. 

6.  Abolition  of  parasitic  letters. 

7.  The  same  sound  to  be  represented  by  the 

same  forms. 

8.  Conversely,  the  same  signs  always  to  ex- 

press the  same  sounds. 

9.  Regular  feminities  to  add  simply  e. 

10.  Plurals,  save  proper  names,  to  end  only 

in  .y. 

11.  The  simplification,  or  not  changing  as  the 

case  may  be,   of  the  rules   (gram- 
matical) of   nu,   deini,   vingt,   cent, 
quelques,  tout,  the  past  participles ; 
and  changes  in  verb-finals. 
To  these  rules,   the  famous  report  of  M. 
Gr£ard   to   the    Academy    (1893)    has    added 
others,  such  as  the  suppression  of  the  circum- 
flex, replacing  a  mute  e,  the  regularising  of 
the  use  of  accents,  of  the  words  of  different 
genders  from  the  same  source,  of  participial 
-ant,   -ent,  the  suppression  of  the   hyphen  in 
compound  nouns  (generally). 

But  if  M.  Renard  has  stated  practical  theo- 
ries, M.  Cl£clat  has  applied  their  substance  to 
immediate  scholastic  use  in  his,  because  of  its 
importance,  really  great  work,26  prefaced  by 
M.  Gaston  Paris.  No  more  than  M.  Renard 
is  he  a  ranting  reformer,  but  the  prover  of 
sensible  and  scientific  substitutions,  based 
upon  phonetic  and  philological  principles  cap- 
able of  historical  proof  as  to  correctness,  if 
the  touchstone  be  the  perpetual  law  of  lan- 
guage and  of  literature,  "the  usage  of  the  best 
writers."  And  two  points  add  weight:  the 
plea  for  consistency,  which  is  the  key-note  of 
M.  Cl£dat's  own  reasoning,  and  the  fact  that 

26  Grammairt  Raisonni  de  la  Langue  Fran  aise  par 
L'on  CUdat,  Professeur,  etc..  Laurfet  de  1'Acad'mie  Fran- 
\aise.  Troisitme  Edition,  Paris.  H.  Lesoudier,  1894. 


there  is  to  be  no  destructive  disfiguring.  For 
M.  Cle'dat  is  a  Romance  scholar,  whose  re- 
spect for  the  Classics  and  love  for  the  founders 
of  philosophical  grammar  the  Greeks,  will 
naturally  be  both  glad  to  find  and  eager 
to  accept,  changes  that  combine  a  common 
ground  of  clear  gain,  pietas  toward  the  past, 
and  economic  value  in  saved  time,  of  imme- 
diately apparent  worth.  Without  stopping  at 
the  brillant  preface  of  M.  Gaston  Paris,  with 
its  differentiation  of  the  difficulties,  the  defi- 
nitions, and  the  deficiencies  of  the  present 
grammars  and  their  educational  use  ;  with  its 
interesting  analysis  of  the  past  feebleness  in 
this  respect  and  the  present  possible  function 
of  the  Academy ;  and  pointing  out  the  oppo- 
sition, let  us  say,  of  the  printers  and  publishers 
who  see  only  the  immediate  danger  to  their 
vested  interests ;  or  of  business,  stagnant  in 
part  during  transition  from  the  old  to  the  new 
system  ;  or  of  sacrifice  of  books  already  pub- 
lished, and  with  it  the  necessity  for  recasting 
every  dictionary,  M.  Paris  also  protests  forci- 
bly against  the  preponderance  given  to  or- 
thography in  grammatical  study.  He  calls 
"  national  orthography  in  reality  one  of  the 
forms  of  public  life."  He  advocates  the  call- 
ing of  a  congress  of  linguists,  pedagogues, 
business  men  and  printers  instead  of  poets 
and  writers  or  even  philosophers  and  critics, 
to  formulate  an  orthography,  as  simple  and 
useful  as  the  metric  system  decreed  by  the 
Convention.  And  he  then  closes  with  a  tribute 
to  M.  Cl£dat's  work  as  a  precursor  of  rational 
instruction  and  a  release  from  the  intolerable 
burden  of  incorrect  rule,  moribund  tradition, 
false  analogy  and  the  orthographic  vagaries 
whose  violation  often  ruins  the  career  of  an 
applicant  for  place,  or  whose  memorized  use, 
through  long  years  of  dry  exercise,  stamp  the 
social  status. 

The  analysis  of  M.  Cl^dat's  book,  owing  to 
!  the  latter's  clearness,  is  easy.  We  may  leave 
I  aside  the  Phonetics,  the  more  so  as  we  have 
i  such  skillful  expounders  of  historical  or  mod- 
I  ern  phases  in  our  country  as  Professors  Ram- 
|  beau  and  Matzke.  M.  Cle'dat  proposes  what 
i  is  after  all,  a  normal,  safe  and  sensible  theory. 
i  The  perpetual  appeal  to  the  great  writers,  the 
|  French  Classicists  as  models  of  style,  has  little 
I  worth  if  we  are  to  accuse  them  of  ignorance 


70 


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142 


of  the  fundamentals  in  the  form  of  words. 
Unlettered  litterateurs  are  a  paradox,  an  a- 
nomaly,  and  fortunately  an  exception.  Yet 
Restif  de  la  Bretonne's  chaotic  and  eccentric 
genius  is  indisputable  in  spite  of  his  spelling. 
The  sixteenth  century  never  pretended  to  learn 
grammar.  Yet,  as  M.  Gaston  Paris  says,  the 
best  authors  of  the  language  lived  at  this  time, 
and  as  Courier  said,  those  "  femmelettes  "  of 
the  time  of  Louis  XIV  wrote  better  than  the 
most  skillful  of  our  own  day,  and  had  never 
learned  a  word  of  French  grammar  any  more 
than  had  their  illustrious  cotemporaries.  That 
La  Bruyere  and  La  Fontaine,  that  Vaugelas 
and  Voltaire,  that  Ronsard  and  Racine,  that 
Bossuet  and  Fe'ne'lon,  that  Pascal  and  Cor- 
neille,  that  Montaigne  and  Montesquieu,  and 
Madame  de  SeVigne"  as  the  representative  of 
the  brilliant  band  of  women  of  letters  in 
French  literature,  should  be  false  standards  is 
a  contradiction  in  terms.  Also,  M.  Cle"dat 
throughout  his  whole  book  aids  his  cause  by 
constant  references  to  their  simpler  notations 
which  Voltaire  introduced  in  his  edition  of 
Corneille  in  1764,  and  which  are  at  this  late 
day,  no  more  illogical  nor  terrifying  than  the 
stock  examples  of  Spanish  or  Italian  filosofia, 
filologia  et  mult  al.  "unnature,"  as  the 
French  say,  are  the  original  source,  the  crystal- 
lized philological  history,  or  destroy  the  utility 
of  the  words  themselves.  But  he  emphati- 
cally states  that  his  reforms  are  based  on 
reason,  not  authorities. 

We  are  promised  shortly  by  two  American 
professors,  a  French  grammar,  whose  outline 
is  based  upon  principles  similar  to  those  ex- 
pounded by  M.  Cle'dat.  To  sum  up  some  of 
his  main  propositions,  lack  of  space  forbid- 
ding us  to  give -the  reasons  for  them  or  the  list 
of  analogies,  we  have  : — 

1.  Elision  of  mute  h  in  bonheur,  heureux, 
etc.,  by  analogy  with  old  French,  I'erbe,  river, 
and  modern  on  (/ion),  avoir  (havoir),  etc. 

2.  Suppression  of  e  mute  after  a  vowel  in 
the  interior  of  words,  jourai,  foublirai. 

3.  Suppression  of  other  mute  vowels,  as 
pan  (paori),   out  (aofit),   with  appeal    to    the 
classical  authors. 

4.  Substitution   of  s  for  x  final  mute  or 
pronounced   s,   and   for  z  in  second  persons 
plural. 


5.  Consistent    simplification  of  final    con- 
sonants,  (pie)d,  (noett)d,   ni(d),  like  nu,  etc.; 
sein(g),  poin(g)  like  ma/in,  temoin,  and  res- 
toration of  final  /  in  all  third  singular  indica- 
tives. 

6.  Elimination  of  dual  spellings  like  dif- 
ferent,  dijf  trend,   center,   compter ;    of  mute 
non-final    consonants.      Why  cor(p)s,    if  we 
have  corset.,  corsage ;  if  sept,  Septembre,  then 
why  not  recepvoir,  debvoir,  hoptef    So,  le(g}st 
doi(g)t,  vin(g)t,  since  we  have  di(c)t,  au(l)tre, 
etc. 

To  the  objection  of  confusion :  it  is  impos- 
sible to  confuse  le  Us  and  tu  Us,  or  dis  (dix) 
and  tu  dis,  or  pois  (poids)  and  pois,  or  puis 
(puits)  with  puis.  The  context  saves  the  situ- 
ation. 

7.  No  mute  consonants  before  s:  enfans, 
Ions,  and  in  verbs,  precis,  like  sens,  peins. 

8.  Open  £  to  be  always  accented,  and  to  be 
followed  by  a  single  consonant  when  only  one 
consonant  is    pronounced :    quertle,    and    in 
corresponding  forms  of  -eler  verbs.    Similarly 
imbecilit^,  batre,  chate,  like  imbecile,   abatis, 
rate.    The  usage  in  classical  writers  is  here 
again  a  powerful  argument. 

9.  Nasal  vowels  to  be  always  written  with 
n,  never  with  m. 

10.  Nasal  a  to  be  an:  couvant  (couvent), 
expediant ;  and  so,  in  all  present  participles, 
and,  as  in  the  classics,  vanger  (cf.  revanche), 
paranthlse,  comancer,  tandresse,  and  adverbs 
in  -mant. 

11.  Nasal  e  should  strictly  be  as  \npl1n  for 
plein. 

12.  If  we  have  printanier  with  printemps, 
therefore,  and  as  in  old  pronunciation  :  fame, 
couane,  ardament. 

13.  Forms    like    erne   (aime),   emi   (aimf), 
esophage,  like  £conomique,  etc. 

14.  Change  of  y  to  i  in  words  of  Greek 
origin:    analise,  stile,  piramide,    etc.;   y    to 
equal  only  two  *'s,  or  semi-vowel  i,  forming 
diphthong.    The  last,  as  best,  gives  craiyon, 
ryen,  etc. 

15. .  The  sound  eu  to  be  everywhere  written 
oe,  to  avoid  such  discrepancies  as  cueillir, 
oeuf,  neuf,  oeil ;  or  oe  after  c  or  g,  and  else- 
where eu. 

16.  Au  to  equal  o:  oriculaire  as  oreille  ; 
eau  to  become  at  least  au ;  (So  (Voltaire) 


143 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


144 


chdtau,  potau);  o  for  um,  as  albom  (cf.  man 
from  meum),  for  we  have  circonstance  (cum) 
and  others. 

17.  Loss  of  every  h  after  r  or  t,  te&tre^  like 
trdne ;   Italian  or  Spanish  analogy  indicates 
the  law. 

18.  ch  to  equal  the  soft,  c  (and  k  before  e,  f) 
the  hard  sound.    Thus,  the  avoidance  of  x 
transliterated  into  qu,  k,  or  c,  as  in  aS^ezr,    to 
give  exarchat,  monarchie,  monarque,  patriar- 
ca/,   with  consequent  confusion.    Therefore, 
like  Voltaire,   cretien,   cristianisme,  or  with 
Victor  Cousin,  psycologie. 

19.  ph  to  be  /.     If  we  have  fantastique, 
fiole,  faisan,  et  mult,  al.,  then  filosofie,  fre- 
nologie,  etc. 

20.  k  to  replace  hard  c  and  qu,  as  Ronsard 
desired.     Its   universal   consistency   of  sound 
in  European  alphabets  aids  the  change.     The 
anomalies  here  are  too  numerous  to  be  indi- 
cated.    M.  Cle"dat  here  proposes  k  or  ^-simple 
(without  u)  for  the  hard  c.     And  the  addition 
of  u  or  w  to  mark  a  pronunciation  of  the  type 
equateur,  equestre.     (We  might  add  that  this 
suggests  a  wise  introduction  of  the  letter  iv. 
There  is  no  real  reason  for  French  antipathy 
to  it,  as  foreign  or  harsh,  though  perhaps  due 
to  the  association  with  the  series  wh  -o,  -at,  -y 
-ere,   always    hateful    by    its    aspiration    and 
English  character.) 

21.  g  soft  to   be/;  hard,  to  remain  g;  so 
najer  (navigare)  \\kejoie  (gaudia). 

22.  5  to  be  always    harsh    ^ ;    J    between 
vowels  to  become,   as    pronounced,   z ;    this 
would  abolish  the  anomaly  of  four  Latin  ter- 
minations which  were  pronounced  differently 
(-tionem,  -cionem,  -sionem,  -ssioneni)  and  all 
became   French   sion,   being   written    in    four 
different  ways ;    and   reduce   to  ^  the  sound 
written  s,  or  ss,  or  sc,  or  c,  or  /,  according  to 
their    Latin    origins    (so,    hazarder,    mazure, 
roze,  dizitme  (since,  dizaine),  etc.).     But  final 
s  linked,  to  remain  s. 

23.  v    where    pronounced    v ;    vagon,    not 
wagon. 

24.  Liquid  /to  be  y. 

25.  Suppression  of  i  unpronounced  before 
gn  ;  ognon,  pognard. 

26.  ks  to  be  x,  or  ks  or  cs  (tocsin).     But  gz 
for  that  sound  of  x,  (egzil,  egzamen). 

27.  (a)  Suppression  of  unnecessary  diaereses; 


(b)  of 'superfluous  accents  (ca,  dela,  deja);  (c) 
of  circumflexes  in  preterites,  and  imperfect 
subjunctives  ;  (d)  abolition  of  anomalous  duals 
like  melange,  but  U  mele;  conique,  but  c6ne, 
coteau,  cdte,  extremite,  extreme ;  (e)  the  com- 
pletion of  Academic  ruling  by  extension  of 
the  principle  of  college  to  other  ^-words,  and 
the  writing  of  futures  and  conditionals  simi- 
larly (ctderai) ;  (f )  introduction  of  the  apos- 
trophe, written  as  well  as  pronounced,  in  the 
class  of  words  like  quoique,  puisque,  lorsque  ; 
(g)  its  elision  in  d'avance,  d'abord,  etc.,  since 
we  find  davantage  and  dorenavant ;  (h)  the 
writing  presquile,  quelcun  (like  chacun),  and 
grand  m'ere,  grand  route,  etc. 

28.  (a)  Words  compounded  with  a  preposi- 
tional prefix  or  adverb  to  drop  the  hyphen : 
(b)  words  beginning  with  the  indicative  pres- 
ent of  verbs  to  drop  hyphens,  (portemonnaie, 
essuimain,  etc.).  This  will  also  remove  in  the 
singular  the  ^-plural  of  the  second  word, 
couvre  pied(s) ;  (c)  the  rule  to  be  extended  to 
cover  the  type  boutentrain  (cf.  justaucorps), 
meurdefaim  (cf.  vaurien) ;  (d)  hyphen-sup- 
pression in  adjective+substantive  compounds, 
pronouns  (lui  mime),  in  two  words  linked  by 
prepositions,  (arc-en-ciel),  but  (arc  de  tri- 
omphe);  (gris-de-fer),  but  (bleu  de  del),  etc., 
in  compounds  of  two  nouns  or  adjectives 
(wagon  lit).  But  if  the  adjectives  have  inde- 
pendent values,  as  in  sourd-(^\.)  muet,  hyphen; 
if  dependent  (nouveau-ne),  omit  the  hyphen. 
But  even  here,  great  difficulties  arise  and 
complete  omission  is  recommended  save  in 
words  of  the  type :  Gallo-Romains,  Franco- 
Russe,  etc.,  (e)  as  in  elliptical  expressions,  such 
as  coq  a  I'ane,  hautlecorps,  and  compounds  of 
ci  and  la,  and  in  verbs  before  personal  pro- 
nouns without  epenthetic  /;  donne  moi,jt>oulez 
vous,  but  arrive-t-in  (f)  omission,  as  well,  in 
prepositional  and  adverbial  phrases,  and  in 
numbers.  Hence,  in  all  cases  save  elliptical 
expressions,  either  juxtaposition  or  soldering, 
according  to  the  preponderance  already  exist- 
ing in  each  class.  Writers  employing  new 
words  in  philosophy  or  in  science  to  have 
freedom  of  using  hyphen  or  of  not  using  it. 

The  second  part  of  M.  denial's  book  dis- 
cusses Flexions  and  Syntax,  the  latter  here 
linked  to  Morphology.  The  reforms  he  has 
here  proposed  touch  rather  the  manner  and 


72 


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146 


the  matter  of  French  grammatical  instruction 
than  phoneticism.  But  the  question  of  forms 
recurs,  as  in  those  of  the  Article.  The  value 
of  the  older  usages,  as  both  phonetic  and 
more  logical,  is  made  apparent.  Many  things 
might  be  noted  :  the  suppression  of  the  super- 
fluous (as  is  proved)  partitive,  after  simplifica- 
tion of  the  definite.  But  this  learned  set  of 
propositions,  by  going  back  to  archaic  forms, 
is  merely  anticipating  the  power  of  popular 
speech  which  is  to  be  as  leveling,  that  is  con- 
sistent, in  the  logic  of  grammar,  as  it  is  in 
insisting  upon  the  simpler  processes  of  word- 
production  (for  example,  new  verbs  are  put  in 
the  first  conjugation).  This  unity  in  the  evo- 
lution of  language  is  a  pleasing  linguistic 
proof  that  right  will  prevail  here  as  in  other 
spheres.  And  the  very  hindrances  to  it  are 
an  emphatic  proof  of  what  the  student  (at 
least)  doubts  at  first  in  the  case  of  French 
acquisition — the  minutiously  difficult  phases 
of  French  grammatical  study.  M.  Cle'dat 
shows  constantly  how  little  we  analyze  the 
real  logic  of  grammar,  how  the  seemingly  im- 
pregnable buttresses  of  the  logico-grammatical 
fortress  lack  foundation  and  are  really  weak 
structures  ;  and  how  the  combined  good-sense 
and  genius  of  the  great  authors  successfully 
and  with  unconscious  philosophy,  violated 
rules  of  literary  periods  before  and  after  their 
own. 

As  constituted  at  present,  intricacies  go 
hand  in  hand  with  anomalies  and,  worse, 
illogicalness,  which  a  few  changes  would 
sweep  into  consistent  classes,  and  with  others 
would  disappear  the  laws  of  exceptions 
and  counter-exceptions  which  make  French, 
the  language  of  clearness,  yet  a  puzzle  for 
precision. 

Among  other  things,  the  author  establishes: 
i,  the  impossibility  of  fixing  rules  as  to  the 
use  of  capitals  (a  growing  freedom  in  this  re- 
spect is  to  be  noted  in  France) ;  2,  that  foreign 
names  should  take  French  and  not  their  own 
plurals,  while  Italian  plurals  in  i  should  change 
to  s,  (dilettantes,  sopranos),  save  when  already 
plural  in  the  French  singular  (lazzis,  concet- 
tis}\  3,  compound  words  to  take  s  at  the  end, 
and  proper  names  similarly ;  4,  freedom  in 
use  of  singular  or  plural  complements  (des 
habits  d'enfants  or  a" enfant] ;  5,  all  the  names 


of  letters  to  be  masculine,  instead  of  mixed 
as  at  present ;  6,  nouns  of  double  gender  to 
be  simplified,  and  detni,  nu,  feu,  to  agree  (a 
historical  position)  before  as  well  as  after  their 
nouns,  instead  of  being  ruled  by  the  later 
growth  of  hampering  laws ;  and  colors  used 
adjectively  to  agree  uniformly. 

7.  Vingt,   cent,  mille,  to  take  plurals    in 
violation  of  the  present  rule ;  meme  to  drop 
the  plural,  save  in  le  meme,  etc. 

8.  (a)  Changes  like  c'est  eux,  (b)  the  intro- 
duction of  two  new  tenses  in  the  conjugation, 
(c)  the  better  use  of  dual  auxiliaries  (avoir 
and  ctre)  with  certain  verbs,  (d)  and  phonetic 
simplifications,  philological,  and  of  verb-types 
\\ke  prennent'm\.Qpr'en-ent(?,o,  tilnent],  (e)  sub- 
sttiutions  of  s  for  x  in  the  type  veux  (cf.  meus, 
bous),  (f)  excision  of  pseudo-^and  intercalated 
ds  (in  -dre-verbs)    in    first  singulars,   and   (g) 
change  of  correct  t  for  d  in  third  singulars 
(vaint  not  vainc,  or  even,  as  Bossuet,  il  ront, 
(rompt)). 

9.  Reforms   like  dissout,    not    dissous,    in 
view  of  feminine  dissoute,  and  removing  the 
circumflex  from  mouvoir,  whose  compounds 
lack  it. 

10.  Regulation  of  the  irregularities  of  past 
participial  agreement,  reflexive  verbs,  and  in- 
variable words,  including  negatives.2? 

A.  GUYOT  CAMERON. 
Yale  University. 


ON     THE     AUTHORSHIP     OF     THE 
ANGLO-SAXON  POEM  Phoenix.* 

LITTLE  has  been  said  of  late  about  the  Cyne- 
wulfian  question,  but  the  reason  is  not  by 
any  means  that  it  has  been  regarded  as  set- 
tled. On  the  contrary,  scarcely  anything  has 
been  definitely  settled  ;  and  it  would  seem  as 
if  much  of  the  ground  might  have  to  be  gone 
over  again.  The  Phoenix:,  Gudlac,  and  An- 
dreas are  still  ranked  by  many  among  the 
works  of  Cynewulf.  In  some  of  the  more  re- 

27  It  must  be  noted  that  these  categories,  while  apparently 
belonging  to  syntactical  theory  are  often  phonetic  matters, 
the  laws  of  participles,  as  can  be  proved,  being  often  de- 
pendent upon  pronunciation  as  guides  to  present  correctness. 

i  In  part  from  an  unpublished  dissertation  on  the  same 
subject  submitted  to  the  Harvard  Faculty  of  Arts  and 
Sciences  for  the  degree  of  Ph.  D. 


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148 


cent  discussions,  indeed — those  of  Cremer*  and 
Mathers  — Gufilac  and  the  Phoenix  have  been 
decidedly,  the  Andreas  hesitatingly,  rejected; 
but  this  almost  wholly  on  metrical  grounds. 
Metrical  tests,  however,  are  somewhat  uncer- 
tain, and  particularly  so  in  the  present  state  of 
opinion  with  regard  to  Anglo-Saxon  metre. 
No  complete  refutation  of  the  arguments  of 
Ramhorst,4  Lefevre.s  or  Gaebler^  has  yet 
been  made ;  and  until  this  has  been  done, 
metrical  tests  alone,  even  at  best,  have  hardly 
the  right  to  be  called  conclusive. 

Of  the  three  poems  above  mentioned,  the 
Phcenix  is,  perhaps,  the  one  least  likely  to 
have  been  written  by  Cynewulf.  Here  then 
it  will  be  easiest  to  attack  the  position  of  those 
who  believe  in  a  Cynewulfian  authorship  for 
all  three.  In  this  paper,  accordingly,  I  pro- 
pose, first,  to  subject  Gaebler's  arguments  for 
a  Cynewulfian  authorship  of  the  Phoenix  to 
as  searching  a  criticism  as  possible  within  the 
short  space  at  my  disposal,  and,  secondly,  to 
place  succinctly  together  the  arguments  that 
make  against  his  theory.  It  is  hoped  that  the 
result  will  be  a  conclusion  in  the  matter  that 
may  fairly  be  called  definite. 

Gaebler's  chief  arguments  fall  under  three 
heads :  Vocabulary,  Characteristic  Phrases, 
and  Parallel  Passages. 

VOCABULARY. 

The  argument  from  vocabulary  is,  of  course, 
an  important  one.  Its  weight,  however,  de- 
pends very  much  upon  circumstances.  In  the 
first  place,  we  must  remember  that  the  total 
number  of  words  used  by  a  writer  is  by  no 
means  an  exact  measure  of  the  number  of 
words  known  to  him.  It  is  inconceivable 
that  any  author,  no  matter  how  much  he  may 
have  written,  should  have  even  nearly  ex- 

2  M.  Cremer:  Metrische  und  sprachliche  Untersuchung 
tier  altenglischen     Gedichte    Andreas,  Gu^lac,    Phoenix. 
Bonn,  1888. 

3  F.  T.  Mather:  "The  Cynewulf  Question  from  a    Metri- 
cal Point  of  View.''    MOD,  LANG.  NOTES,  vii,  97  f. 

4  F.  Ramhorst;  Das  altenglischc    Gedicht  •vom  heiligtn 
Andreas.     Leipzig,  1886. 

5  P.    Lefeyre  :    "  Das  altenglische  Gedicht  vom   heiligen 
Gu$lac."     Angha,  vi,  181  f. 

6  H.   Gaebler:    "Ueber  die   Autorschaft   des   angels  'chs- 
ischen  Gedichtes  vom  Phoenix."     Anglia,'\\\,  488  f.     (Sepa- 
rately published,  Halle,  1880). 


hausted  his  vocabulary;  and  in  the  case  of 
an  Anglo-Saxon  poet,  who  has  to  write  under 
the  restrictions  of  pretty  severe  metrical  laws, 
this  is  particularly  true.  That  an  Anglo-Saxon 
poet  does  not  use  a  given  word  in  a  given 
case,  therefore,  does  not  at  all  mean  that 
the  word  was  unknown  to  him.  In  the 
second  place,  we  must  remember,  in  deal- 
ing with  Anglo-Saxon  works,  that  a  great 
part,  we  cannot  even  guess  how  great  a  part, 
of  the  Anglo-Saxon  literature  that  must  once 
have  existed  has  perished.  That  many  of 
the  words  now  classed  as  "rare"  would  cease 
to  be  classed  as  such,  if  all  that  had  ever  been 
written  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  tongue  had  come 
down  to  us,  scarcely  admits  of  a  doubt.  Too 
much  weight,  therefore,  ought  not  to  be  given 
to  words  which  are  simply  rare,  but  in  no 
other  way  remarkable. 

These  considerations  are  so  natural  and  so 
obvious  that  it  may  seem  unnecessary  even  to 
mention  them.  But  however  generally  they 
may  be  admitted  in  theory,  they  are  con- 
stantly lost  sight  of  in  practice,  The  argu- 
ment from  vocabulary,  in  short,  must  be  used 
with  extreme  caution.  The  one  great  fallacy 
into  which  it  is  apt  to  lead  the  unwary  reason- 
er  is,  that  striking  agreement  in  vocabulary 
between  two  works  necessarily  implies  iden- 
tity of  authorship.  It  need  imply  no  such 
thing.  Three  explanations  of  the  fact  are 
possible:  it  may  be  due  (i)  simply  to  accident ; 
(2)  to  identity  of  authorship  ;  (3)  to  imitation. 
In  each  and  every  case  these  three  possible 
explanations  have  to  be  considered. 

Let  us  examine  now  Gaebler's?  list  of 
words  found  only  in  the  Phoenix  and  in 
Cynewulf's  works.8  Under  the  category  of 
"simplicia,"  we  find  the  following :  tepp/ed, 
Ph.  506,  El.  1260,  Jul.  688;  bedeglian,  Ph.  98, 
Guff.  1226  (not  found  in  C.  W.  at  all);  bibyr- 
gan.  Ph.  286,  Cr.  1159  (Cf.  Bl.  Horn.  [M]  23,  14; 

7  Cf.  Gaebler,  p.  20. 

8  Cynewulf's  works  (C.W.)  are  Crist,  Juliana,  Elene,  and 
the  "  Napier  Fragment."     Sarrazin  (Anglia,  xii,  375  f.')  and 
Trautmann  (Anglia,    Beiblatt,  vi,   17  f.)  contend    that   the 
"Fragment"    belongs    to   Fata   Apostoloruni,  and    that  the 
whole  is  the  conclusion  of  the  Andreas.     There  are  so  many 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  this  supposition,  however,  that  the 
safest  way  is  to  reject  it.     (Cf.  Walker,  Berichte  der  Konig- 
lich-S.chsischen    Gesellsckaft    der     Wissenschaften,    1888; 
Sievers,  Anglia,  xiii,  22). 


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150 


137.  27;  155,  7);  bisorgian,  Ph.  368,  Cr.  1556 
(cf.  Bl.  Horn.  171,  18);  dryre,  Ph.  16,  Gu#.  802 
(not  found  in  C.  W.);  dzv&scan,  Ph.  456,  Cr. 
486,  Rid.  8i33  (common  enough  in  compounds); 
fn&st,  Ph.  15,  Jul.  588  (cf.  Leechdoms  [C]  iii, 
100,  13);  gef&r,  Ph.  426,  El.  68  (cf.  [Ps.]  [Sp.j 
104,  36);  gefylgan,  Ph.  347,  El.  576  (cf.  Lind, 
Matth.  (Sk.)  4.20,  John,  18,  15);  glees,  Ph.  300, 
Cr.  1283  (cf.  Wright-Wulker  Glossaries,  619, 
41;  756,  9) ;  hlinc,  Ph.  25,  Rid.  424  (not  found  in 
C.W.);  onsyn,  Ph.  55,  398,  Cr.  480,  Gu£.  800 
(cf.  Ps.  142,  6);  wrence,  Ph.  133,  Rid.  92  (not 
found  in  C.W.):  unbryce,  Ph.  642,  Jul.  235  (cf. 
bryce,  Ps.  119,  5). 

Of  the  fourteen  words  cited, we  have  thus  no 
more  than  three  left  which  are  found  only  in 
the  Phoenix  and  in  C.W.,  but  of  these  three 
cepplcd  is  the  only  one  that  can  be  regarded 
as  peculiar,  and  it  occurs  but  twice  in  C.W. 

"  Composita  "9  found  only  in  the  Phoenix 
and  in  C.W.  :  (zdeltungol,  Ph.  290,  Gu^.  1288 
(not  found  in  C.W.);  deaddenu,  Ph.  416,  Cr. 
344  (an  ordinary  compound,  cf.  deafidceg, 
deadsele,  etc.);  ealdcyfidu,  Ph.  351,  435,  Cr. 
738  (cf.  ealdgecynd,  feorcyft,  etc.) ;  fyrbce<5, 
Ph.  437,  Cr.  831,  El.  949  (by  no  means  a  pe- 
culiar compound,  cf.  fyrbend) ;  grceswong, 
Ph.  78,  Jul.  6  (cf.  grtesmolde,stanwong,  etc.); 
lafigenifila.  Ph.  50, Jul.  232  (cf.  ealdgenitila, 
mangenidla,  etc.) ;  ligbryne,  Ph.  577,  Cr. 
1002  (cf.  ligfyr,  fcerbryne,  etc.) ;  tnoldgrcef, 
Ph.  524,  Jul.  690  (cf.  moldcern,foldgrtzf,  etc.) ; 
sarwracu,  Ph.  54,  382,  Jul.  527  (cf.  sarspel, 
mftwracu,  etc.) ;  scyldwircende,  Ph.  502,  Cr. 
1487,  Jul.  445,  El.  762  (cf.  synwyrcende,  etc.) ; 
sidweg,  Ph.  337,  El.  282  (cf.  sidland,  etc.); 
sindream,  Ph.  385,  El.  741,  Gu#.  811  (cf.  sin- 
frea,  sinniht,  seledream,  etc.) ;  sundplega, 
Ph.  in,  Cud".  1308(110!  in  C.W.);  tirmeahtig, 
Ph.  175,  Cr.  1166  (cf.  tireadig;  swiftmeahtig, 
etc.). 

There  is  nothing,  we  see,  peculiar  about 
any  of  the  words  here  cited  ;  they  are  all  or- 
dinary compounds,  made  up  out  of  common 
elements,  and  would  excite  no  remark  where- 
ever  found.  Moreover,  only  two  of  them  occur 
in  C.W.  more  than  once,  which  certainly  does 
not  indicate  any  great  fondness  for  them. 

As  to  Gaebler's  lists10  of  words  found  in  the 

9  Cf.  Gaebler,  p.  24. 

10  Cf.  Gaebler.  pp.  20  and  24. 


Phoenix  and  in  C.W.,  but  rarely  elsewhere, 
little  need  be  said.  Equally  long  lists  could 
doubtless  be  made  out  for  the  Phoenix  and 
any  other  body  of  Anglo-Saxon  poetry  of  the 
same  extent  as  C.W.,  and  would  be  worth 
just  as  much.  I  will  cite  half  a  dozen  and  let 
the  reader  judge  if  it  would  be  worth  while  to 
cite  any  more  : 

Afysan,  Ph.  274,  657,  Gu#.  911,  Cr.  986,  By. 
3,  Hy.  4,  87,  Vision,  125;  anhaga,  Ph.  87,  346, 
Gutf.  970,  El.  604,  Rid.  6,1  Hy.  4,  88,  Wand- 
i,  B.  2368,  An.  H53 ;  on&lan,  Ph.  216,  503, 
Jul.  372,  580,  El.  951,  Gu#.  928,  Sal.  42,  Sat.  40, 
Gen.  2922,  etc.;  burhstcde,  Ph.  284,  Cr.  812, 
Gufr.  1291,  Gen.  1602,  Dan.  47,  B.  2265,  Sat. 
363,  An.  581,  Ruin,  2;  gleawmod,  Ph.  571, 
Gu3".  975,  An.  1581,  Dan.  440 ;  hidercyme, 
Ph.  421,  Cr.  142,  367,  587,  An.  1318;  sigor- 
ffsst,  Ph.  282,  Gutf.  938,  1218,  Vision,  150! 

Out  of  all  the  words  cited  by  Gaebler,  very 
few  occur  in  C.W.  more  than  three  or  four 
times.  Of  these  wuldorcyning,  for  example, 
occurs  in  Satan  four  times,  in  C.W.  seven 
times ;  that  is  to  say,  proportionally  about 
three  times  as  often  in  the  Satan  as  in 
C.W.! 

To  sum  up,  Gaebler's  argument  from  vocab- 
ulary amounts  to  about  this  :  there  are  in  the 
Phoenix  some  one  hundred  and  sixty  words11 
which  do  not  occur  in  C.  W.;  fifteen  of  which 
occur  only  in  the  Phoenix  and  in  C.W.;  and 
a  goodly  number — I  have  not  thought  it  worth 
while  to  count  them — which  are  found  not  only 
in  the  Phoenix,  and  in  C.  W.,  but  in  the 
various  other  A.-S.  poems  as  well.  Does  this 
warrant  the  conclusion  that  there  exists  be- 
tween the  Phoenix  and  C.W. 

"  eine  grosse  verwandtschaft,  die  kaum  an- 
ders  als  durch  die  annahme  desselben  ver- 
fassers  erklart  werden  kann  ?  "ia 

CHARACTERISTIC  PHRASES. 
Characteristic  phrases,  or  mannerisms,  are 
without  doubt  valuable  bits  of  evidence  in 
cases  of  disputed  authorship.  The  difficulty 
presents  itself,  however,  what  shall,  and  what 
shall  not,  be  called  a  characteristic  phrase  ? 
So  many  phrases  have  been  cited  as  char- 
acteristic of  Cynewulf 's  style  that  we  have  to 

11  Cf.  Gaebler,  pp.  19-20,  22-23. 

12  Cf.  Gaebler,  p.  25. 


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152 


be  somewhat  cautious  in  accepting  them  with- 
out scrutiny.  The  following  will  perhaps 
serve  as  useful  tests  of  a  characteristic  phrase: 
(i)  it  must  be  markedly  preferred  by  our 
author;  (2)  it  must  not  be  used,  or  at  least 
rarely,  by  any  other  writer ;  (3)  there  must  be 
something  peculiar  and  individual  about  it. 

Let  us  examine  now  Gaebler's  list  :J3  in  (on) 
-fdemonstrative-f-adjective-j-jfo/,  occurs  in  C. 
W.,  according  to  Gaebler,  twenty-four  times, 
elsewhere,  exclusive  of  the  Phoenix,  eleven 
times.  But  when  we  make  the  necessary  cor- 
rections, we  find  that  the  phrase  in  question 
occurs  in  C.W.  sixteen  times,  in  the  Phoenix: 
four  times,  and  elsewhere,  according  to  Grem 
nineteen  times.  It  is  worth  noting  that  this 
phrase  is  mostly  used  with  reference  to  the 
Last  Judgment,  and  that  most  of  the  ex- 
amples cited  for  C.W.  are  from  the  Crist, 
where  there  are  particular  reasons  for  its  use. 
Compare,  moreover,  the  following:  on  pas 
frecnan  (halgan,  etc.)  tid,  Dom.  (L)  214,  Bl. 
Horn.  39, i;  123, 12;  117,  2;  119,14;  83,  10;  83,  27; 
91,  19;  123,  32.  For  similar  phrases,  cf. 
on  pam  miclan  (mczran,  etc.)  dcsge,  Cr.  1051, 
Jul.  720,  B.  and  S.  50,  88,  149,  An.  1438,  Dom. 
104,  etc. 

All  these  phrases,  as  DeeringM  remarks, 
may  be  regarded  as  variations  of  familiar 
biblical  expressions.  Compare  for  example, 
Dies  tenebrarum  et  calignis,  dies  nubis  et 
turbinis,  Vulgate,  Joel,  ii,  2;  compare  also 
Vulgate,  Soph,  i,  15,  Jer.  xxx,  7,  Actus  ii,  20, 
etc. 

Londes  (foldan,  etc.)fr&/we,  occurs  in  the 
Phoenix  three  times,  in  C.  W.  twice.  (Cf. 
Men.  207,  Pa.  48,  Ps.  101,  22);  sigora  so^cyn- 
ing,  Ph.  twice,  C.W.  twice  (a  purely  allitera- 
tive formula  ;  cf.  B.  3056,  Gen.  1797,  Wund.  of 
Cr.  67);  fyra  (fslda)  cyn,  Ph.  four  times,  C. 
W.  five  times  (cf.  An.  590,  Gu$.  727,  793,  836, 
948,  961,  1224,  Wund.  of  Cr.  14,  Gnom.  194, 
Wh.  39  ;  cf.  also  celda  beam,  Seaf.  77,  Wund. 
of  Cr.  99,  Gen.  2470,  Dan.  106,  B.  70,  150,  Men. 
J75»  [Voluspa  23,  Hel..  762,  etc.];  Compare 
also^?rrt  beam,  Jud.  24,  33  [Hel.  9,  etc.];  and 
for  similar  phrases  compare  B.  1058,  Gu#. 
1177,  Wh.  40,  An.  909,  Ps.  91,  i,  etc.);  mcahta 

13  Cf.  Gaebler.  p.  25. 

14  Deering  :  Poets  of  the    "Judgment  Day.     Halle,  1890. 
p.  8. 


sped,  Ph.  once,  C.W.  six  times  (cf.  Gen.  1696, 
Dan.  335,  Met.  4,  9;  cf.  also  Gen.  3,  Met.  20, 
225,  Gen.  1084,  1957,  Sat.  623,  668) :  brego  en- 
gla,  Ph.  twice,  C.W.  twice  (cf.  Gen.  181,  976, 
1008,  2583,  2764,  Edgar  56);  fore  godes  egesan, 
Ph.  once,  C.W.  twice  (cf.  Seaf.  101 ;  compare 
also  Gen.  2590,  Bl.  Horn.  185,  20;  a  common 
biblical  phrase;  cf.  Vulg.  ii  Cor.  v,  n);  &P- 
pfede  gold,  Ph.  once,  C.W.  twice,  (somewhat 
peculiar,  but  too  seldom  used  to  be  classed  as 
a  mannerism) ;  bales  (lades,  etc.)  cyme,  Ph. 
five  times,  C.W.  eight  times  (cf.  Gu#.  802, 
945 ;  there  is  not  the  slightest  peculiarity  in 
the  phrase,  genitive+ryw^ ;  compare  Cristes 
(drihtnes,  etc.)  cyme,  Bl.  Horn.  81,  15,  etc.,  B. 
and  S.  162,  Ex.  179,  An.  660;  compare  also 
the  common  biblical  phrases,  adventum  Do- 
mini, etc.,  Vulg.  i  Thess.  iv,  14;  ii  Pet.  iii,  12, 
etc.);  ykH-genitive,  Ph.  once,  C.W.  once  (cer- 
tainly not  a  favorite  expression  with  Cyne- 
wulf ;  cf.  Gu?.  1050,  1349,  Rid.  313  );  blissum 
hremig,  Ph.  twice,  C.W.  once  (cf.  Gu?.  1079, 
Ah.  1701;  cf.  also  B.  124);  cl(snc  andgecorene, 
Ph.  once,  C.W.  twice  (cf.  Ps.  104,  38;  107,  5) ; 
leohte  geleafan,  Ph.  once,  C.W.  twice  (cf. 
Gufr.  1083,  Ap.  66,  Dan.  643);  cefre  to  ealdre, 
and  similar  phrases,  Ph.  four  times,  C.W. 
four  times  (cf.  Gu3>.  1202,  Gen.  820,  Men.  153, 
B.  955,  Ex.  424,  Jud.  120,  Sat.  362,  etc.;  one  of 
the  commonest-alliterative  phrases,  especially 
in  the  religious  poetry,  where  it  has  doubtless 
been  influenced  by  such  expressions  as  ab 
(eterno  usque  in  {sternum,  Vulg.  i  Paral.  xvi, 
36,  in  seeculum  steculi,  ii  Cor.  ix,  9.  etc.); 
u> u rid ru>n -\-adject\ve  (or  participle),  Ph.  six 
times,  C.W.  twice  (cf.  Rid.  361.  Dan.  in,  B. 
2687,  Wand.  98,  Wund.  of  Cr.  61,  Pa.  19,  Met. 
29,  17;  a  very  common  expression  and  one 
which  survived  until  Chaucer's  day  ;  cojnpare 
wonder  londe,  Book  of  the  Duchesse,  344) ; 
stf  behealdan,  Ph.  twice,  C.W.  once  (not  re- 
markable ;  for  behealdan  in  the  sens.e  of  videre, 
compare  Gen.  107,  Vision  ii,  64);  lof  singan, 
Ph.  three  times,  C.W.  once  (a  mere  common- 
place ;  cf.  Men.  93,  Ps.  106,  31);  helpe  befrem- 
man,  Ph.  once,  C.W.  four  times,  (cf.  B.  551, 
1552,  An  91,  426,  1616,  Wand.  16;  cf.  also  B. 
177,  2674,  Dan.  233,  Gen.  1587);  oncelan-\-ad, 
Ph.  once,  C.W.  twice,  (cf.  Gen.  2922,  Gu^1. 
640);  frcctwiim  blican,  Ph.  once,  C.W.  three 
times  (cf.  Pa.  29);  beald  reordade,  Ph.  once, 


76 


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154 


C.W.  once  (cf.  Cud".  998,  An.  602);  swinsian 
and  singan,  Ph.  twice,  C.W.  once  (cf.  Rid. 
8?»  Ps.  143,  10);  gewritum  cyftan,  Ph.  three 
times,  C.W.  twice  (cf.  Pa.  14;  Ps.  86,  5, 
Rid.  4oli  Eadgar  14);  genitives-superlative  (re- 
mark on  this  "  stileigentiimlichkeit"  is  scarce- 
ly necessary ;  it  is  one  of  the  commonest 
phrases  in  A.-S.  Poetry;  cf.  B.  453,  454,  1120, 
etc.,  Gen.  297,  364,  etc.) 

These,  now,  together  with  a  few  so  trivial 
that  I  have  not  thought  it  worth  while  to  men- 
tion them  (eordan  turf,  wuldres  byrig,  etc.), 
are  the  phrases  which  Gaebler  regards  as 
"characteristic"  of  Cynewulf's  style.  Our 
examination  shows  that  only  two  or  three  of 
them  are  confined  to  the  Phoenix:  and  C.W., 
and  of  these  one  only — cepplede  gold—c&n  by 
any  possibility  be  regarded  as  a  "  characteris- 
tic "  phrase,  and  it  moreover  occurs  so  seldom 
that  no  special  importance  can  be  attached  to 
it. 

PARALLEL  PASSAGES. 

In  the  use  of  this  argument  also,  the  great- 
est degree  of  caution  is  necessary.  We  must 
be  sure  we  are  dealing  with  real  parallelisms. 
Hence  all  set  phrases,  alliterative  or  idiomatic, 
and  all  commonplace  expressions  must  be  ex- 
cluded. But  that  is  not  all.  Even  when  we 
have  to  do  with  real  parallelisms,  there  is  the 
possibility  of  imitation,  or  plagiarism,  to  be 
considered.  Strangely  enough,  this  possibility 
is  almost  always  practically  lost  sight  of. 
But  since  everybody  knows  that  borrowing 
came  quite  easy  and  natural  to  writers  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  the  fact  should  be  taken  into 
practical  account. 

r  To  examine,  now,  Gaebler's  list  of  parallel 
passages. rs 

(i)       leomu  lie  somod  and  lifes  gcest 
fore  Cristes  cneo, 

Ph.  513  f ;  cf.  Ph.  523,  584 ; 

se  us  Hf  forgeaf 
Itomu,  lie  and  gcest, 

Cr.  776  f.;  cf.  Cr.  1036  f.,  1326  f.,i58o  f. 
penden  gcest  and  lie  Geador  siftedan, 

Jul.  714. 

The  idea  in  these  passages  is  as  old  as  the 
story  of  Creation.  For  the  same  thought  ex- 
pressed similarly,  compare  the  following  : 

15  Ga«bler,  p.  27. 


leomu  lie  somud  and  lifes  gcest, 

Gu#.  810,  1149; 
ponne  se  dead  cymed 
asyndred  pa  sybbe,  pe  cer  samod  wceron, 
lie  and  saw  It, 

B.  and  S.  3  f.; 

ponne  feran  sceal  purh  frean  hcese. 
sundor  anra  gehwces  sawol  of  lice, 

Az.  92  f. 
Cf.  also  Gen.  930-1 ;  Met.  20,  234-238. 

(2)  hwcedre  his  meahta  sped 
heah  ofer  heofonum  halig  wunade, 

Ph.  640  f.; 

sibbe  sawad  on  sefan  manna 
purh  meahta  sped  !  ic  eow  mid  wunige, 

Cr.  487  f. 

The  parallelism  here  consists  solely  in  the 
phrase  meahta  sped,  and  for  this  compare 
Dan.  335,  Gen.  1696,  Met.  4,  9. 

(3)  ne  sorg  ne  sleep  tie  swar  leger, 

Ph.  56. 

nis  peer  hungor  ne  purst 
sleep  ne  szvar  leger  ne  sunnan  bryne, 

Cr.  1661. 

The  author  of  the  Phoenix  is  here  trans- 
lating from  his  originals  ;  cf.  et  curae  insom- 
nes,eic.,  D.  A.  Ph.  20  f.;  cf.  also  the  A.-S. 
paraphrase  of  the  De  Die  Judicii  (Infer  Flori- 
geras,  etc.), 

ne  cymd  Seer  sorh  ne  sar  ne  geswenced  yld, 
ne  ft  cer  cenig  geswinc  cefre  gelimpeft 
odfie  hungor  oftfie  purst,  oftfie  heanlic  steep, 

Be.  D.D.  255  f. 
•  (4)  peer  him  bitter  iveard 

yrmftu  cefter  cete  and  hyra  eaferum  siva, 

Ph.  404  f.; 

pcet  him  bcrm  gewearft 
yrmftu  to  ealdre  and  hyra  eaferum  swa, 

Jul.  503  f. 
Cf.  Gu£.  825  f.,  also 

civceft  pcet  sceaftena  mcest 
eallum  heora  eaforum  cefter  siftftan 

wurde  on  worulde. 

Gen.  549  f. 

(5)    scyldwyrcende  in  scome  byrned,     Ph.  502. 
scyldwyrcende  scame  pro wian,   Jul.  445. 
Cf.  Gu#.  175,  605 ;  also 
scealtpu  minra  ^escenda  sceame  prowian, 

B.  and  S.  49; 


77 


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156 


eal  pat  hwane  sceamode  scylda  on  worulde, 

Be.  D.D.  140; 

ponne  beod  gescende  and  scame  dreoged, 

Ps.  69,  2. 

(6)  onbryrded  breostsefa  blissum  hremig, 

Ph.  126; 

inbryrded  breostsefa,  El.  842,  1046. 

Cf. 

breostum  onbryrded,    An.  1120,  Gufr.  626. 

(7)  $efreoda  usic  frymda  scyppend  !  pu  eart 

fader  almihti%.  Ph.  630; 

pu  onfrymde  was  fader  almihtigum, 

Cr.  121. 

An  unreal  parallelism  ;  compare  moreover 
the  following, 

gefreoda  hyre  (sawol)  and  gefeorma  hy,  fa- 
der moncynnes,  Hy.  4,  61; 
gefridode  frymda  waldend.     Hyre  pas  fa- 
der on  roderum,  Jud.  65. 

(8)  sib  si  pe,  sod  god,  and  snyttru  craft, 
and  pe  pone  sy  prymsittendum,  Ph.  622  f; 

sie  pe,  magena  god 

prymsittendum  pane  butan  ende,  El.  810. 
The  parallelism  here  consists  wholly  in  the 
fact  that  pane  and  prymsittendum  occur  in 
the  same  line,  which  may  be  purely  accidental; 
such  an  expression  as  sie  pe  (gode)  pane  is 
too  much  of  a  commonplace  expression  to 
have  any  significance. 

(9)  agenne  card  eft  geseced,  Ph  264; 
agenne  card  eft  to  secan,                Ph.  275; 
ponne  he  gewited  wongas  secan 

his  ealdne  card  of  disse  edeltyrf, 

Ph.  320  f.; 

his  on  sybbe  forlet  secan  gehwylcne 
agenne  card,  El.  598  f. 

A  mere  commonplace;  cf.  ham  gesecan, 
Sat.  436;  ed  el  secan,  An.  226;  %eiuat  eft  ham 
secan,  B.  2388 ;  agenne  card,  Met.  20,  14. 

(10)  fedrum  gefratwad,  Ph.  239 ; 
fidrum  ^efratwad  £1.743. 

A  phrase  in  no  way  remarkable ;   compare 
the  similar  phrases,  folmum  gefratwod,   B. 
992  ;  gimmitm  gefratwod,  Sat.  649. 
(n)  heafelan  lixad 

prymene  bipeahte,  Ph.  604  f.; 

pe  of  pas  halendes  heafelan  lixte, 

Cr.  505. 


There  is  really  no  parallelism  here  at  all,  as 
the  context  will  make  evident. 

(12)  da  se  adela  wong 
ceghwas  onsund  wid  yd  fare 
gehealdan  stod  hreora  waga,     Ph.  43  f.; 

heo  in  liges  stod 

aghwas  onsund,  Jul.  592  f. 

This  is  no  parallelism  at  all. 

(13)  purh  fyres  feng  fugel  mid  neste, 

Ph.  215; 
in  fyres  feng  folc  anra  gehwylc, 

El.  1287. 

There  is  no  agreement  in  the  thought  here, 
and  as  for  the  phrase  fyres  feng,  cf.  B.  1764, 
Sal.  353- 

(14)  gehrodcn  hyhtlice  haliges  meahtum, 

Ph.  79; 

and  efne  swa  pec  gemette  meahtum  ge- 
hrodene,  Cr.  330. 

Again  no  agreement ;  meahtum  has  a  dif- 
ferent meaning,  and  is  in  a  different  construc- 
tion in  each  passage. 

(15)  par  seo  sofifaste  sunne  lihteti,     Ph.  587; 
and  softfasta  sunnan  leoma,        Cr.  106 ; 
he  is  sodfasta  sunnan  leoma,        Cr.  696. 

The  parallelism  here  consists  practically  in 

the  fact  that  Christ  is  spoken  of  as  the  sun. 

This,  however,  is  a  common  enough  figure, 

surely;  cf.  Vulg.  Johannem  viii,  12,  for  example; 

.also, 

pat  is  seo  soda  sunne  mid  rihte, 

Met.  30,  17; 
pu  eart  heofonlic  leoht,  Hy.  8,  22. 

(16)  synnum  asundrad  sumes  onlice,    Ph.  242; 
asundrodfram  synnum  swa  smate  gold, 

El.  1309. 
Cf. 

asundrad  from  synnum, 

An.  1245,  Hy.  9,  10 ; 
synnum  asundrad,  Gu3".  486. 

(17)  purh  his  hidercyme  halgum  togeanes, 

Ph.  421 ; 
purh  his  hidercyme  hals  eftforgeaf, 

Cr.  587. 
Cf. 

hidercyme  pinne ,  An.  1318; 

on  his  hidercyme,       Bl.  Horn.  87,  2,  etc. 

(18)  ece  and  edgeong  afre  ne  swedrafi, 

Ph.  608 ; 


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March,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


T58 


ece  andedgeong  andweard  gced, 

Cr.  1071 ; 

ece  and  edgeong,  Nap.  Frag. 

This  is  obviously  only  a  mere  alliterative  for- 
mula. 

(19)  pttrh  his  lices  gcdal,  lif  butan  ende, 

Ph.  651; 
peer  is  leofra  lufu,  lif  butan  endedeade, 

Cr.  1653. 

Here  there  is  not  the  slightest  resemblance 
in  the  general  tenor  of  the  thought. 

(20)  bi  pam  gecornum  Cristes  pegnum, 

Ph.  388. ; 
ponne  pa  gecorenanfore  Crist  her ad, 

Cr.  1655; 
wid  da  gecorenan  Cristes  pegnas, 

Jul.  299. 

Cf. 

we  his  pegnas  synd 

gecoren  to  cempum,  An.  323  f.; 

cempan  gecorene  Criste  leofe,   GuS.  769; 
clcene  and  gecorene  Cristes  pegnas , 

Hy.  7,  53- 

(21)  Sie  him  lof  symle 

purh  woruld  worulda  and  wuldres  bleed, 

Ph.  66 1  f.; 
si  him  lof  symle 

purh  ivoruld  worulda  wuldor  on  heofo- 

num,  Cr.  777. 

The  similarity  in  wording  here  is    rather 

close,  but  the  expression  is  one  of  the  most 

commonplace  imaginable ;  cf., 

sie  pe  pane  and  lof,  peoda  waldend, 
to  widanfeore  wuldor  on  heofonum, 

An.  1453  f.; 
seegdon  lof  symble  leofum  drihtne, 

Ps.  77.  5? 

wuldor  si  wide  weruda  drihtne 
and  on  worulda  woruld  wunie  siddan, 

Ps.  103,  29  f.; 
pcem  drihtne  sy  lof,  and  wuldor,   and 

sibb,  on  ecnesse 
in  ealra  worulda  world,  a  butan  ende, 

Bl.  Horn.  53,  32; 

also  such  texts  as  Ps.  40,  14 ;  ii  Peter  iii,  18. 

(22)  middangeardes  and  meegenprymmes, 

Ph.  665 ; 
middangrardes  and  meegenprymmes, 

Cr.  557,  Jul.  154. 
The  parallelism  here  is,  of  course,  complete; 


but  it  may  possibly  be  accidental ;  cf. 

eft-wyrd  cymd 

mcegcndrymma  nicest  ofer  middangeard, 

Ex.  539  f. 

(23)  beod  donne  amerede  monna  geestas 
beorhte  abywde  purh  brynefyres, 

Ph.  544  f.'6 

seoded  swearta  lig  synne  on  fordonum, 

Cr.  995; 

hie  asodene  beod 

asundrod fram  synnum  swa  smcete  gold, 

El.  1308  f.; 

oft  daet  eall  hafad  aides  leoma 
woruldwidles  worn  wtelmeforbcerned, 

Cr.  1006  f. 

The  purifying  power  of  the  fires  of  the  Last 
Judgment  is  a  common  enough  theme  in  the 
Scriptures  and  in  the  writings  of  the  Fathers  ; 
compare,  for  example,  Vulg.  Dan.  xii,  10;  i 
Pet.  i,  7 ;  i  Cor.  iii,  13-15 ;  Augustine  Sermo 
iv  (Migne,  39,  1945) ;  Beda,  De  Temporum 
Ratione  (Giles,.  6,  337) ;  also,  De  Die  Judiciit 
77  f.;  Be.  D.D.  154  f. 

(24)  ponne  monge  beod  on  gemot  Iceded 
fyra  cynnes,  Ph.  491  f.; 
paer  monig  beod  on  gemot  l&ded 

fore  onsyne  eces  deman,  Cr.  795  f. 

Here  the  parallelism  is  indeed  close  ;  but 
the  thought  expressed  is  perfectly  common- 
place ;  cf.,  for  example,  paet  bid  pearlic ge- 
mot, Bi.  D.D.  36;  on  gemotsted  manna  and 
engla,  B.  and  S.  152. 

(25)  fyr  bid  on  tihte 
celeduncyste,  .        Ph.  525  f.; 

brond  bid  on  tihte 
celed  ealdgestreon  unmurnlice, 

Cr.  812  f. 

The  likeness  in  thought,  here,  is  close 
enough,  but  in  diction  it  is  not  very  striking. 

(26)  peer  pa  lichoman  leahtra  clafne 
gongad  glcedmode  gcestas  hweorfad 
in  banfatu,  ponne  bryne  stiged 

heah  to  heofonum,  Ph.  518  f.; 

peer  mcegen  werge  monna  cynnes 
wornum  hweorfad  on  widne  lig, 

Cr.  957  f. 
There  is  no  parallelism  at  all  here. 

(27)  wel  bid  deem  de  mot 

16  Gaebler,  p.  37. 


79 


159 


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160 


on  pa  geomran  tid gode  lician,  Ph.  516  f. ; 

wel  is  Sam  pe  motun 
on  pa  grimman  tid  gode  lician, 

Cr.  1080  f. 


Cf., 


w el  bid  dam  fie  mot 
(?fter  dead  dczge  drihten  secean, 

B.  186  f.; 

wel  bid  pam  pe  him  are  seced 
frofre  to  feeder  on  heofonum, 

Wand.  114.  f.; 

gode  licode,  Ps.  55,  n. 

(28)  cyning  prymlice 

of  his  heahsetle  halgum  seined 
wlitig  wuldres girn,  Ph.  514  f.; 

heofonengla  cyning  halig  seined 
wuldorlic  ofer  weredum,  Cr.  1010  f. 

Cf., 

andymb  pcet  heh  setl  hwite  standad 

englafedan  and  eadigra 
.     .     .     .     heora  wlite  seined 
geond  ealra  worulda  woruld  mid  wtild- 
orcyninge,  Sat.  220  f. 

What  now  is  the  value  of  this  list  of  paral- 
lel passages  as  evidence  for  a  Cynewulfian 
authorship  of  the  Phoenix?  In  all  but  a  few 
cases  the  parallelism  is  either  unreal,  or  tri- 
vial ;  and  in  the  majority  of  cases  the  thought 
expressed  is  perfectly  commonplace.  Many 
of  the  passages  cited  by  Gaebler  refer  to  the 
Last  Judgment,  and  their  similarity  is  due  to 
the  fact  that  they  are  composed  of  practically 
the  same  material1?  and  were  written  at  a 
time  when  the  popular  mind  was  filled  with 
thoughts  of  the  Doom  that  was  believed  to  be 
near  at  hand.18  Compare,  for  example,  the 
following  : 

swa  se  mihtiga  cyning 
beaded  brego  engla  byman  stefne 
of  an  sidne  grund,  sawla  nergend, 

Ph.  497  f.: 

ponne  fram  feowerum  foldan  sceatum 
pam  yte  me  stum  eordan  rices 
englas  celbeorhte  on  efen  blawad 
byman  on  brelifine,  Cr,.  879  f.; 

drihten  seolfa 

hated  hehenglas  hludra  stefne 
beman  b  law  an  ofer  burga  gesetu 

i7»«Cf.  Homily  v  in  Morris's  Edition  of  the  Bl.  Horn. 
18  Cf.  Deering  :    The  Anglo-Saxon  Poets  of  the  Judgment 
Day. 


geond  [feower]  foldan  sceatas, 

Sat.  600  f. 

What  do  these  passages  prove  ?  Simply 
this,  that  three  A.-S.  poets  writing  on  the  same 
subject,  using  the  same  materials,  and 
subject  to  the  same  severe  metrical  rules, 
made  use  of  pretty  much  the  same  lan- 
guage to  express  their  thought.  Suppose 
it  be  admitted,  however,  that  there  is  a  re- 
lation between  these  passages,  other  than 
that  they  are  drawn  from  the  same  general 
sources,  namely,  the  Scriptures  and  writings 
of  the  Fathers,  what  follows  ?  That  they  were 
all  written  by  one  man  ?  By  no  means.  Take 
the  following  case : 

wid  da  geeorenan   Cristes  pegnas, 

Jul.  229 ; 
clcene  and  gecorene  Cristes  pegnas ', 

Hy.  7,  53- 

The  similarity  in  thought  and  diction  here 
is  quite  striking  as  in  most  of  the  passages 
cited  by  Gaebler  from  the  Phoenix  and  C.W. 
Will  anyone  seriously  contend,  now,  that 
these  two  passages  must  have  been  written 
by  one  and  the  same  man?  Of  course  not ; 
that  would  be  absurd.  If  we  must  admit  re- 
lationship here,  we  can  only  admit  that 
of  imitation.  So  in  the  case  of  the  Phoenix 
and  C.W.,  if  there  be  any  relationship  at  all 
between  them,  why  may  it  not  be  one  of  imi- 
tation, equally  as  well  as  one  of  identity  of 
authorship  ? 

Gaebler's  proof,  therefore,  turns  out  to  be 
no  more  than  mere  assumption.  There  is  no 
convincing  evidence  that  Cynewulf  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  the  Phoenix  ;  and  that  being 
so,  we  might  rest  here,  since  the  burden  of 
proof  is  always  on  those  who  wish  to  make  it 
out  that  the  Phoenix  is  the  work  of  Cyne- 
wulf. But  to  make  the  conclusion  more  cer- 
tain, I  shall  state  briefly  the  evidence  that 
makes  against  Cynewulfian  authorship. 

STYLE. 

There  is  not  much  variety  of  style  in  A.-S. 
poetry.  Everywhere  we  find  the  same  stock 
of  poetic  formulas,  synonyms,  etc.;  and  this 
makes  it  somewhat  difficult  to  distinguish  be- 
tween the  work  of  one  A.-S.  poet  and  that  of 
another.  In  the  case  of  Cynewulf  and  the 
Phoenix  poet,  this  is  particularly  true,  for 


80 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


162 


they  deal  with  the  same  class  of  subjects. 
There  is,  however,  quite  a  perceptible  shade 
of  difference  in  the  tone  in  which  the  two 
poets  write.  Cynewulf  is  disposed  to  be  some- 
what gloomy  and  reflective.  He  writes  as  a 
man  overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of  his  own 
sinfulness,  and  apprehensive  of  the  punish- 
ment that  is  to  be  meted  out  to  all  sinners 
alike  at  the  Great  Day  of  Doom.  Consider, 
for  example,  the  following : 

Hum  ic  wene  me 

and  eac  ondrcede  dom  py  reftran, 

ponne  eft  cymefi  engla  peoden, 

pe  ic  ne  heold  teala,  pest  me  hcelend  min 

on  bocum  bibcad,  Cr.  789  f. 

The  Phoenix  poet,  on  the  other  hand,  is  of 
a  sunnier  disposition.  He  looks  at  the  bright 
side  of  things.  It  is  not  on  the  terrors  of  the 
Day  of  Judgment  that  he  dwells,  but  on  the 
prospects  of  bliss  that  will,  on  that  day,  be 
opened  up  to  the  souls  of  the  blessed.  Note, 
for  example,  this  passage  ; 

weorc  anra  gehwczs 
heorhte  blicefi  in  dam  bltfan  ham 
fore  onsyne  eces  dryhtnes 
symle  in  sibbe  sunnan  gelice,     Ph.  598  f. 

The  difference  in  religious  temperament  be- 
tween the  two  poets  is  further  illustrated  by 
the  different  names  they  apply  to  the  Deity. 
To  a  certain  extent,  God  the  Father,  and 
Christ  the  Son,  are  confused  by  both  poets ; 
but  at  times  they  are  carefully  distinguished. 
Cynewulf  is  more  apt  to  make  this  distinc- 
tion than  the  author  of  the  Phoenix.  Ac- 
cording to  Jansen'9  Cynewnlf  uses  54  different 
expressions  for  "  Christ  "  (counting  variations, 
about  200), while  for  "God"heusesonly37.  The 
Phoenix  poet,  on  the  other  hand,  uses  17  dif- 
ferent expressions  for  "  God  "  (counting  vari- 
ations 29),  but  for  "  Christ  "  only  4, 

The  bright  sunny  disposition  of  the  Phoenix 
poet,  again,  is  evident  from  his  fondness  for 
expressions  for  "brightness,"  "sunshine," 
etc.,  as  compared  with  Cynewulf.  He  uses, 
for  example,  eighteen  different  expressions 
for  "sun,"  while  Cynewulf  in  all  his  works 
uses  but  six. 

It  would  not  be  proper,  of  course,  to  insist 
too  strongly  on  these  slight  variations  in  style 

19  Jansen  ;  Beitr,'.'fe  zur  Synonymik  und  f'oetik,  Mini- 
ster, 1883. 


between  the  Phoenix  and  C.  W.  The  es- 
thetic quality  of  a  poem  is  peculiarly  elu- 
sive, and  is  not  readily  reducible  to  a  matter  of 
percentages  ;  so  the  illustrations  I  have  given 
must  be  taken  simply  for  what  they  are  worth. 
It  cannot  be  denied,  however,  that  the  Phoenix 
is, on  the  whole, a  much  more  lively  and  spirited 
piece  of  work  than  any  of  Cynewulf 's  poems. 
Its  atmosphere  is  that  of  the  bright  open  day, 
whereas  Cynewulf 's  works  smell  decidedly  of 
the  cloister. 

METRE. 

The  first  to  make  a  detailed  study  of  the 
metre  of  Cynewulf 's  poems  on  the  basis  of 
Sievers's  investigations  was  Frucht.20  Fol- 
lowing him  closely  Cremer  made  a  compari- 
son of  the  versification  of  the  signed  poems 
with  that  of  the  poems  usually  ascribed  to 
Cynewulf,  the  Andreas,  Gitf/ac  and  the  Phoe- 
nix;  and  Mather  has  virtually  reworked  the 
ground  covered  by  Cremer.  As  to  the  practi- 
cal results  of  these  investigations,  so  far  as 
the  Cynewulfian  question  is  concerned,  there 
may  be  room  for  some  difference  of  opinion. 
Perhaps  the  only  thing  positively  and  defi- 
nitely settled  is  that  Gudlac  A  cannot  be  by 
Cynewulf.  Both  Cremer  and  Mather,  how- 
ever, are  convinced  that  the  Phoenix  must 
also  be  rejected. 

I  agree  with  them,  of  course,  in  this  con- 
clusion, but  I  do  not  think  the  methods  by 
which  they  have  reached  it  altogether  sound. 
Cremer,  for  example,  limits  his  comparison  to 
the  poems  signed  by  Cynewulf,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  those  ascribed  to  him,  on  the  other. 
But  it  is  not  sufficient  to  show  that  a  certain 
one  of  the  doubtful  poems  agrees  with,  or  dif- 
fers from,  C.  W.  in  regard  to  metrical  struc- 
ture ;  it  must  also  be  shown  that  a  poem 
which  cannot  possibly  be  by  Cynewulf  will  al- 
most certainly  differ  considerably  from  his 
standard.  In  other  words,  the  validity  of  the 
metrical  test  must  first  be  made  clear.  The 
importance  of  this  point  seems  to  have. been 
felt  by  Mather;  and  he,  accordingly,  intro- 
duced the  Beowulf  into  his  comparison.  In 
the  next  place,  both  Cremer  and  Mather 
make  the  assumption  that  a  close  agreement 

20  P.  Frucht:  MetriscAcs  und  sprachliches  zur  Cyne- 
wnlf s  Elene,  yuliana  und  Crist,  Greifswalder  Diss.,  1887. 


81 


163 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANG UAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xTT  No.  3. 


164 


in  metrical  structure  between  two  or  more 
poems  necessarily  means  identity  of  author- 
ship. That  such  agreement  might  be  the  re- 
sult of  imitation,  seems,  however,  quite  pos- 
sible. Again,  Mather  criticises  Cremer  for 
practically  making  the  assumption  "that  in 
the  three  signed  poems  we  have  the  limits  of 
Cynewulf 's  style."31  He  himself,  however,  is 
very  much  inclined  to  emphasize  unduly 
moderate  variations  from  Cynewulf 's  average 
use.  He  lays  down  the  rule  that 

"only  those  divergencies  are  rated  for  cri- 
teria of  authorship,  which  are  considerably 
greater  than  the  differences  shown  in  the 
same  case  among  the  Cynewulfian  poems. 
The  practical  working  of  this  is  that  in  general 
only  differences  of  one-fourth  or  over  are  ob- 
served."22 

If  we  examine  Mather's  tables,  now,  we  find 
that,  in  the  first  half-line,  Cynewulf  varies  in 
his  use  of  type  B  from  141  [Cremer  145],  per 
looo  lines,  in  Jul.  to  191)  in  Cr.  i,23  and  200  in 
Cr.  ii;23  but  both  190  and  200  exceed  141  by 
more  than  one-fourth  [reckoning  from  the 
lower  number].  Similarly  in  the  second  half 
line,  Cynewulf  varies  in  the  use  of  type  A 


from  357  per  1000  lines  in  El.  to  448  in 
in  Cr.  ii — again  a  variation  slightly  greater 
than  one-fourth  This  shows  that  a  variation 
of  one-fourth  is  rather  too  small  to  be  .signifi- 
cant. 

With  regard  to  Cremer's  comparison  of 
similar  types  in  each  half-line,  it  is,  as  Mather 
points  out,  not  only  worthless,  but  mislead- 
ing. His  method  of  comparing  the  different 
ways  of  forming  the  long  line,  also,  strikes  me 
as  rather  unfruitful.  The  grouping  together 
of  types  A,  D  and  E  as  "  descending,"  of  B 
and  C  as  "  ascending  "  has  little  or  no  justi- 
fication from  the  point  of  view  of  rhythm.  A 
long  .line  of  the  form  AE,  for  example,  has 
a  rhythmical  movement  altogether  different 
from  that  formed  by  the  combination  AA. 

Since  my  scansion  of  the  Phoenix  and  of 
the  Cynewulfian  poems  differs,  though  not  to 
any  great  extent,  from  both  Cremer's  and 
Mather's,  I  may  as  well  give  my  results.  For 
the  sake  of  Comparison,  I  give,  in  addition 
the  figures  for  Beowulf,  and  for  a  portion  of 
the  Exodus  and  of  the  Daniel. 


COMPARISON  OF  TYPES  IN  EACH  HALF-LINE.' 


Type. 

El. 

Cr. 

Jul. 

437 

Ph. 

B. 

Ex. 

Dan. 

Double 
Allit. 

435 

438 

611 

497 

520 

462 

A 

426 

426 

454 

490 

s, 

412 

477  ' 

B 

152 

154 

150 

153 

94 

112 

137 

I. 

C 

208 

166 

192 

139 

162 

192 

119 

D 

160 

162 

170 

177 

M7 

232 

97 

E 

42 

74 

34 

38 

40 

48 

40 

21  Cf.  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES  vii,  199.  22  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES,  vii,  202. 

23  Mather's  Cr.  i  and  Cr.  ii=Cremer's  Cr.  a.— Cr.  1-778. 

i     On   the  basis   of   tooo  lines.     The  figures   for   B.  and   for   double  alliteration  are   from    Mather's   tables.     The    lines 
used  in  each  poem  were  :    El    1-500;  Cr.  866-1366;  Jul.  1-500;  Ph.  1-667;  Ex.  1-250;   Dan.  1-279. 


82 


i6s  March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3.  166 


Type. 

El. 

Cr. 

Jul. 

Ph. 

B. 

En. 

Dan. 

Double 

Aim. 

A 

406 

454 

400 

435 

362 

536 

393 

B 

252 

242 

284 

294 

233 

112 

177 

II. 

C 

192 

152 

218 

197 

182 

88 

199 

D 

90 

58 

52 

40 

no 

56 

61 

E 

48 

76 

46 

3i 

I.T8 

204 

40 

Remainder. 

12 

18 

— 

3 

4 

4 

36 

The  only  important  variations  between  the 
the  Phoenix  and  C.W.,  which  this  table  shows, 
is  in  the  use  of  double  alliteration,  which  in 
the  Phoenix  is  much  more  than  a  third  greater 
than  any  of  C.W.,  and  in  the  use  of  D  and 
E  types  taken  together  in  the  second  half- 
line.  In  general,  however,  C.W.  agree  much 
more  closely  with  each  other  than  does  any 
one  of  them  with  the  Phoenix,  an  indication, 
though  of  course  not  a  very  strong  one,  of 
difference  of  authorship. 

In  the  following  table  are  given  the  various 


modes  of  forming  the  long  line  in  each  of  the 
poems  in  question.  The  comparison  is  again 
on  a  basis  of  1000  lines.  The  figures  for  Beo- 
wulf are  taken  from  Kaluza's  tables. »4  It 
may  be  noted  here  that  Kaluza's  "vierhe- 
bungstheorie  "  gives  practically  the  same  re- 
sults as  Sievers'  scheme,  since  both  make, 
in  effect,  six  types. »s 

24  Cf.  Kaluza;  Studien  zur  Germanischen  Alliterations- 
verse,  ii,  87. 

25  Cf.  Ibid,  i,  89. 


i6;  March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


168 


COMPARISON  OF  MODES  OF  FORMING  T2E  LONG  LINE. 


Form  of 
line. 

.  El. 

Cr. 

Jul. 

Ph. 

B. 

Ex. 

Dan. 

AA 

128 

138 

122 

160 

52 

136 

180 

AB 

I32 

128 

162 

170 

159 

64 

108 

AC 

108 

84 

134 

123 

140 

60 

130 

AD 

44 

26 

H 

19 

92 

24 

40 

AE 

H 

50 

22 

18 

45 

128 

18 

BA 

80 

78 

90 

86 

69 

84 

76 

BB 

28 

36 

24 

3i 

4 

8 

22 

BC 

H 

16 

18 

26 

12 

4 

18 

BD 

16 

H 

H 

6 

25 

4 

4 

BE 

14 

10 

4 

4 

2 

12 

18 

CA 

126 

100 

124 

95 

129 

136 

79 

CB 

24 

26 

14 

18 

13 

8 

ii 

CC 

32 

18 

34 

15 

22 

12 

14 

CD 

12 

12 

10 

7 

19 

4 

ii 

CE 

H 

10 

10 

5 

5 

32 

4 

DA 

58 

94 

54 

73 

81 

152 

43 

DB 

52 

36 

70 

66 

30 

24 

25 

DC 

30 

24 

28 

26 

23 

8 

22 

DD 

14 

4 

12 

7 

19 

20 

7 

DE 

6 

4 

8 

5 

6 

28 

0 

EA 

H 

44 

12 

21 

22 

28 

14 

EB 

16 

16 

14 

9 

13 

8 

ii 

EC 

8 

10 

4 

7 

8 

4 

4 

ED 

4 

2 

2 

0 

21 

4 

0 

EE 

o 

2 

2 

o 

O 

4 

o 

Remainder. 

12 

18 

3 

3 

4 

36 

This  table  shows  no  striking  variation  be- 
tween the  Phoenix  and  C.W.;  but  it  shows, 
nevertheless,  like  the  preceding,  that  C.W. 
agree  much  more  closely  with  each  other  than 
any  of  them  with  the  Phoenix ;  that  is  to  say, 
this  table  indicates,  though  not  decisively, 
that  the  Phoenix  is  not  a  Cynewulfian  poem. 

LANGUAGE. 

The  poems  of  Cynewulf,  as  well  as  those 
usually  ascribed  to  him,  have  come  down  to 
us,  of  course,  in  the  West-Saxon  dialect ;  but 


there  is  not  much  doubt  now  that  they  were 
written  originally  in  the  Northumbrian  dia- 
lect. *6  Though  the  original  dialect  of  the 
the  Phcenix,  therefore,  must  be  regarded  as 
the  same  as  C.W.,  there  are,  however,  some 
particulars  in  which  it  differs  from  them. 
These  are  as  follows  \*i  feeder,  dat.  sing.  Ph. 
610;  fcedere,  El.  438,  454,  Cr.  464,  532,  773; 
fotas,  Ph.  311,  (tod&s?  407)  \  fet,  Cr.  mi, 

26  Cf.  Leiding  :  Die  Sprache  tisr   Cynewulf  Dichtungen, 
Crist,  "Juliana,  und  Elene;  Marburg,  1888. 

27  Cf.  Sievers  :  Reitrcige,  x,  483  f.:  Cremer,  p.  44. 


84 


M.irch,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


170 


1169,  Jul.  472,  El.  1066;  glifd_(on  the  strength 
of  the  metre)  Ph.  92,  289,  303,  593 ;  glced,  Cr. 
1287. 

These  differences  are  highly  significant,  and 
decidedly  make  against  the  supposition  of  a 
Cynewulfian  authorship  for  the  Phoenix. 
Cynewulf  himself  does,  indeed,  vary  slightly 
in  his  use  of  a  few  forms,  for  example,  ham, 
dat.  sing.,  Cr.  305;  hame,  Cr.  293;  but  he 
does  not  permit  himself  quite  so  radical  a 
variation  as  to  use/0/a.y  lorfet. 

CONCLUSION. 

The  question  of  the  authorship  of  the  Phce- 
nix,  accordingly,  stands  thus :  In  the  first 
place,  there  is  absolutely  no  strong  evidence 
which  makes  for  a  Cynewulfian  authorship, 
the  evidence  advanced  by  Gaebler  from  vo- 
cabulary, characteristic  phrases,  and  paral- 
lel passages  being  too  weak  to  be  regarded  as 
anything  like  convincing.  In  the  second 
place,  there  is  much  that  makes  decidedly 
against  such  a  supposition  :  first,  in  the  point 
of  style;  second,  in  versification;  and  third, 
in  grammar.  Lastly  there  is  the  lack  of  Cyne- 
wulf's  signature — presumably  attached  to  all, 
since  attached  to  at  least  four  of  his  poems ; 
and  this,  in  the  absence  of  strong  evidence 
for,  should  be  conclusive  against,  a  Cynewulf- 
ian authorship. 

EDWARD  FULTON. 
Wells  College. 


NOTE    UPON   SOME    SIMILARITIES 
BETWEEN  Le  Grand  Cyrus  AND 
Le  Misanthrope. 

MLLE.  DE  SCUDERV  has  never  been  satisfac- 
torily cleared  of  the  accusation  of  having 
served  as  the  model  of  the  precieuses,  the 
most  ridiculed  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
Boileau  and  Moliere,  the  bitterest  assailants 
of  the  genre,  have  been  accused  in  their  turn 
of  having  been  signally  unjust  toward  this 
particular precieuse  :  they  are  still  from  time 
to  time  arraigned  and  acquitted  without  call- 
ing out  any  final  verdict. 

If  Moliere  did  direct  unjustly  some  traits 
against  Mademoiselle  de  Scud£ry,  he  and  she 
nevertheless  sometimes  strangely  resemble 
each  other  in  thought  and  theory.  Victor 


Cousin  has  pointed  out1  the  striking  similarity 
between  certain  passages  of  Le  Grand  Cyrus11 
and  of  Les  Femines  Savantes , — similarity 
singularly  piquant,  since  these  passages  ex- 
press the  views  of  the  two  authors  upon  what 
should  be  a  woman's  attitude  toward  learning. 
It  is  well  known  that  the  Comedie  Pastoral: 
Melicerte,  never  completed  by  Moliere,  is 
based  upon  an  episode  of  Le  Grand  Cyrus.3 
It  seems  possible  that  the  perusal  of  the  ten 
interminable  volumes  of  this  same  novel  may 
have  left  other  traces  in  the  work  of  Moliere. 

Mtlicerte  was  represented  for  the  first  time 
in  December,  1666.  The  Misanthrope  ap- 
peared for  the  first  time  in  Paris  in  June  of 
the  same  year.  It  would  seem  that  at  that 
time  the  novel  of  Mile,  de  Scudeiy  may  have 
been  more  or  less  in  Moliere's  mind,  for  the 
fourth  volume  of  Le  Grand  Cyrus  contains  an 
episode,  L'histoire  de  Cleonice  et  de  Lig- 
c/amis,4  which  can  profitably  be  read  with 
certain  passages  of  the  Misanthrope.* 

The  question  which  one  naturally  asks  one's 
self  in  reading  this  episode  is  perhaps  unan- 
swerable ;  that  is,  did  Moliere  consciously  or 
unconsciously  have  in  mind  certain  passages 
of  it  when  writing  the  famous  interview  be- 
tween Celimene  and  Arsino£?  At  any  rate 
the  resemblances  and  differences  are  such  as 
to  render  the  reading  of  the  corresponding 
passages  interesting  to  those  interested  in  the 
history  of  the  precieuses. 

Moliere  being  Moliere,  every  word  of  the 
Misanthrope  tingles  with  vivacity  and  malice. 
Mile,  de  ScudeYy  being  the  gracious,  well- 
meaning  person  that  her  ten  volumes  reveal 
to  us;  the  malice  and  vivacity  of  which  she 
has  no  mean  share,  run  a  slender  graceful 
thread  through  the  rather  prolix  badinage  of 
an  interview  unlike  and  yet  not  unlike  the 
famous  dialogue  of  Moliere's  Misanthrope. 
The  two  personages  are  a  prude  and  a  co- 
quette, but  Cleonice,  very  different  from 
Arsinoe'  who, 

1  Victor  Cousin:  La  Society  Francaise  au    ije.    Siecle. 
Paris,  1853.     Tome  ii,  pp    173,  and  295  ff. 

2  Artam'ne,  ou  Le  Grand  Cyrus.     Rouen,   1654.     Chez 
Augnstin  Courbe. 

3  Tome  vi,  Livre  2,  pp.  346-470. 

4  Le  Grand  Cyrus,  Tome  iv,  Livre  3,  pp.  406-572. 

5  Le  Misanthrope,  Act  iii,  Sc.  3  ;  Act  v,  Sc.  4. 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.    Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


172 


Contre  ce  siicle  aveugle  est  toujours  en  courroux, 
Elle  tiche  a  couvrir  d'un  faux  voile  de  prude 
Ce  qu'on  voit  chez  elle  d'affreuse  solitude. 

is  a  prude  after  Mile,  de  Scude"ry's  own  heart, 
visionary,  virtuous,  Platonic  and  of  invincible 
attractions. 

This 

"adorable  fille  attirait  tout  ce  qu'il  y  avail 
d'honnetes  gens  en  ce  lieu  la  tout  le  monde 
voulant  avoir  la  gloire  d'etre  de  ses  premiers 
amis,  et  de  lui  avoir  rendu  les  premiers 
services." 

The  coquette,  veritable  coquette,  Mile,  de 
ScudeYy  paints,  with  becoming  reservations, 
in  as  attractive  a  light  as  the  "  charmant 
esprit,"  Cle'onice. 

"Car  a  dire  les  choses  comme  elles  sont, 
elle  a  tant  de  charmes  en  toute  sa  personne, 
et  tant  d'agrement  en  toutes  ses  actions  qu'il 
n'est  pas  aise"  de  se  deTendre  de  I'aimer  des 
qu'on  la  voit ;  £tant  certain  qu'il  y  a  dans  ses 
yeux,  je  ne  sais  quel  enjouement  obligeant  et 
passionn^  qui  ^meut  le  creur  de  tous  ceux  qui 
la  voient.  Mais  Madame  pour  achever  de 
vous  de"peindre  Atelinde,  qui  a  assez  de  part  a 
cette  histoire,  il  faut  que  vous  sachiez  qu'il  n'a 
jamais  e'te'  une  personne  plus  coquette  que 
celle-la.  Car  non  seulement  elle  voulait 
gagner  ses  amants  par  sa  beaute"  et  son  esprit, 
mais  aussi  par  ses  soins  et  par  sa  civilite"." 

Being  equally  attractive,  and  very  good 
friends,  as  friends  go,  these  two  persons  lack 
the  dramatic  value  of  the  Arsinoe"  and  Ce"li- 
mene  of  Moliere.6  They  say,  however,  to  each 
other  with  the  frankest  kindliness  and  gentle 
malice  some  of  the  same  things  that  the  rivals 
of  Le  Misanthrope  sling  with  such  bitter  irony 
into  each  other's  faces. 

Cle'onice  impelled  by  the  same  motive  pro- 
fe^ecl  by  Arsinoe";  "voulant  lui  persuader 
qu'elle  faisait  tort  a  sa  beaute"  de  souffrir  que 
tant  de  gens  espeYassent  de  pouvoir  possdder 
son  coeur,"  reproaches  Artelinde  : 

"  Car  enfin,  lui  clisait  Cle'onice,  vous  ne 
me  ferez  point  croire  que  cette  multitude  qui 
vous  suivent,  vous  suivent  sans  espe"rer,  et 
vous  ne  me  ferez  pas  croire  non  plus  qu'ils 
puissent  tous  espe>er  si  vous  n'y  contribuiez 
rien.  Vous  voulez  qu'on  vous  regarde,  vous 
regardez  les  autres :  vous  donnez  quelques 

6  It  is  interesting  to  note  in  passing  that  Cleonice  and 
Artelinde  are  in  a  certain  way  rivals  for  the  favor  of  Lig. 
damis  ;  a  Misanthrope  so  far  as  an  extreme  aversion  for  the 
passion  of  love  is  concerned.  He  breaks  with  a  friend  just 
as  soon  as  this  friend  falls  in  love. 


assignations  et  quoique  je  sache  que  tout  cela 
aboutit  a  dire  trois  ou  quatre  paroles  en  secret 
et  a  faire  un  grand  mystere  de  peu  de  chose  ; 
c'est  un  secret,  c'est  un  mystere  et  par  conse"- 
quent,  un  crime,  parceque  a  parler  raisonna- 
blement,  on  ne  se  cache  point  pour  une  chose 
innocente,  comment  voulez-vous  que  des  gens 
que  vous  accablez  de  faveurs  n'esperent  pas 
tout  ce  qu'on  pent  espeYer?  Ne  songez-vous 
pas  que  la  jeunesse  ne  dure  pas  toujours  et 
que  la  vieillesse  et  la  galanterie  ont  une  an- 
tipathic si  grande  qu'il  n'y  a  rien  de  si  oppose? 
Comment  ferez-vous  done  quand  tous  vos 
galants  vous  abandonneront  ?  " 

For  CeMimene's : 

"  L'2ge  amenera  tout  et  ce  n'est  pas  le  temps 
Madame,  comme  on  sail,  d'etre  prude  a  vingt  ans." 

Artelinde  replies : 

"  Ne  soyons  pas  si  preVoyantes,  car  pour 
moi,  je  me  trouve  si  bien  de  ne  songer  point  a 
tant  cle  choses  que  je  ne  veux  pas  croire  votre 
conseil  ni  devenir  trop  prudente  de  peur  d'elre 
malheureuse.  II  me  suffit  quand  je  suis  &  la 
saison  des  roses  de  regarder  dans  mon  miroir 
si  le  peu  de  beaute"  que  j'ai  ne  durera  pas 
jusqu'aux  premieres  violettes  et  quand  je  m'en 
suis  assure"e  je  me  mets  1'esprit  en  repos." 

None  of  the  accusations  of  Moliere's  Celi- 
mene  are  applicable  here. 7  Artelinde  merely 
points  out  brightly  the  great  danger  incurred 
by  the  "  froides  et  se"rieuses,  qui  font  les  fieres 
et  cruelles,"  of  allowing  their  hearts  to  be 
seriously  touched  at  last.  And,  she  adds: 

"  Si  je  n'avais  pas  peur  que  vous  ne  derobassiez 
mon  secret  et  qu'il  ne  vous  prit  envie  de  vous 
en  servir  je  vous  de"couvrirais  le  fond  de  mon 
cteur." 

This,  although  of  widely  different  import, 
recalls  Ce'limene's  answer  to  Arsinoe"'s  "  L'on 
a  des  amants  quand  on  en  veut  avoir." 

"  Ayez  en  done  Madame,  et  voyons  cette  affaire, 
Par  ce  rare  secret  eflbrcez  vous  de  plaire." 

They  part  the  best  of  friends,  but  not  ^mtil 
Cle'onice  has  suggested  the  situation  which 
Moliire  employs  to  prepare  the  denouement  of 
his  play  ;8 

"Vous  dites  de  petits  secrets  a  1'un,  vous 
raillez  des  autres  avec  quelqu'un  d'eux,  et 

7  Moliere  probably  did  not  have  Mile,  de  Scud'ry  in  mind 
when  he  wrote  : 

"  Elle  fait  des  tableaux  couvrir  les  nudites," 
but    one    thinks    involuntarily    of   her    "modestly     draped 
Venuses,"  in  reading  the  isolated  line. 

8  Le  Misanthrope,  Act   iii,   Sc.  2,  end.     The  agreement 
between  the  two  Marquises. 


86 


173 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANG UAG E  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


quoiqtie  votis  vous  moqulez  de  tout  le  monde, 
je  trouve  pourtant  que  vous  avez  lieu  de  crain- 
dre  qu'a  la  fin  tous  ces  gens  ne  se  moqOent 
aussi  de  vous.  Car  enfin  s'il  prenait  un  jour 
fantaisie  a  tous  ces  amants  de  s'entredire  tout 
ce  que  vous  avez  fait  pour  eux,  ou  seriez 
vous? " 

The  final  punishment  of  Artelinde  is  brought 
about  in  much  the  same  way  as  that  of  Ce*li- 
mene.  She  writes  to  all  of  her  different  ad- 
mirers arranging  appointments  with  them. 
Through  an  interchange  of  address  all  the 
letters  arrive  at  the  wrong  destination,  and 
Artelinde  becomes  the  laughing  stock  of  the 
town.  Cle*onice,  for  all  her  Christian  charity, 
is  not  above  enjoying  the  confusion  of  her 
dearest  foe. 

To  any  one  who  takes  the  trouble  to  read 
the  passages  above  indicated,  a  general  resem- 
blance cannot  fail  to  present  itself.  Is  this 
similarity  merely  accidental — such  as  would 
arise  from  the  treatment  of  two  subjects  not 
wholly  dissimilar?  Mile,  de  Scud^ry  wishing 
to  paint  the  delights  of  an  "  amitie"  tendre  " 
and  to  point  at  the  same  time  a  moral  for 
coquettes  who  harden  their  hearts  to  such 
delight;  Moliere  pointing  the  same  moral 
how-beit  with  very  different  intent.  At  any 
rate,  it  is  interesting  to  find  that  the  same 
woman  who  has  often  been  supposed  to  have 
been  the  target  of  the  malicious  shafts  lanced 
by  Moliere  against  prudes,  has  painted  a  co- 
quette having  much  in  common  with  Celi- 
mene,9  and  that  a  prude  can  say  agreeably 
the  disagreeable  speeches  of  Arsinoe". 

ANNE  REESE  PUGH. 
Wellesley  College. 

GERMAN  LITERATURE. 
Modern    German  Literature.     By  BENJAMIN 

W.  WELLS,  Ph.  D.  i2mo,  pp.  ix,  406.  Boston: 

Roberts  Brothers,  1895. 

No  other  book  of  the  year  seems  to  me  to 
deserve  a  more  hearty  welcome  from  the 
American  student  and  teacher  of  German 
literature  than  Dr.  Wells'  series  of  essays  or 
chapters  on  this  subject.  The  reader  feels 
himself  guided  by  an  earnest,  well-balanced 
student,  capable  of  sifting  his  materials  and 
choosing  out  of  the  vast  mass  only  the  most 

9  This  is  not  the  only  instance  to  be  found  in  Mile,  de 
Scudery's  works  of  sympathetic  pictures  of  coquettes  and  of 
coquetry.  They  appear  frequently,  especially  in  the  En- 
tretiens. 


characteristic  and  most  helpful  facts  for  the 
American  college  or  university  student.  Dr. 
Wells  does  not  write  for  Germanists,  but  for 
cultured  foreigners.  "They  will  want  to 
know,"  he  tells  us  in  his  preface, 

"not  about  the  '  Muspilli '  or  the  'Wesso- 
brunn  Prayer,'  but,  first  of  all,  about  what 
men  are  writing  and  reading  now,  and  then 
about  what  they  continue  to  read  of  the  works 
of  the  older  generation." 

With  this  as  his  platform,  he  discusses :  I. 
The  Origins  ;  II.  The  First  Fruits,  Klopstock, 
Wieland,  Herder ;  III.  Lessing,  the  Reformer; 
IV.  The  Young  Goethe;  V.  Goethe's  Man- 
hood and  Old  Age;  VI.  Goethe's  "Faust;"  VII. 
Schiller's  Early  Years;  VIII.  Schiller  on  the 
Height;  IX.  Richter  and  the  Romantic  School; 
X.  Heinrich  Heine  ;  XI.  Imaginative  Literature 
Since  1850.  To  these  eleven  essays  is  added 
a  full  index  to  authors*  and  their  more  impor- 
tant works. 

The  author  does  not  pretend  to  encyclopaedic 
completeness.  His  sole  aim  is  "to  further 
literary  appreciation  and  enjoyment."  He 
does  not  strive  so  much  to  be  original  in  treat- 
ment as  to  be  judicious  in  selecting  and  force- 
ful in  presenting  essentials.  The  style  is  easy 
and  natural.  Biographic  details  are  freely  in- 
termingled with  literary  estimates  and  criti- 
cisms, the  whole,  however,  presenting  a  homo- 
geneous and  organic  narrative. 

The  book  is  distinctly  a  student's  companion. 
The  foreign  student  is  almost  necessarily  cur- 
tailed in  his  enjoyment  and  appreciation  of 
the  better  things  in  German  literature.  Often 
.does  the  spirit  escape  in  the  laborious  dis- 
secting process  of  grammatical  analysis.  Fre- 
quently textual  difficulties  leave  nothing  but 
"the  lees  to  brag  of."  Dr.  Wells  labors  to 
minimize  this  danger  and  to  imbue  the  learner 
with  the  conviction  that  he  is,  indeed,  pursu- 
ing an  intellectual  movement,  and  that  he  is 
being  brought  in  contact  with  forces  that  have 
molded  the  life  and  thought  of  the  nation, 
and  which  in  turn  have  been  molded  by 
these. 

In  the  'Origins'  we  have  a  condensed  yet 
clear-cut  sketch  of  the  main  lines  of  literary 
development  prior  to  the  eighteenth  century 
awakening.  There  is  a  close  relationship, 
more  observable  in  German  literature  than  in 
any  other,  between  the  national  or  political 
feeling  of  exaltation  and  its  expression  in 


175 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


176 


literature.  Three  waves  and  three  subsidings 
are  easily  distinguished,  the  former  reaching 
their  height,  approximately,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  sixth,  the  twelfth,  and  the  eighteenth  cen- 
turies, respectively.  The  Teutonic  conquest 
of  the  Roman  World,  the  self-assertion  of 
Teutonic  strength,  afforded  poetic  material 
both  for  the  early  and  the  succeeding  ages. 
Legends,  myths,  historic  accounts  dimmed 
and  fused.  When  the  Roman  Church  con- 
quered the  conquerors,  the  Heliand,  the  Krist 
took  the  place  of  the  earlier  distinctly  national 
sagas.  The  Hildebrandslied,  the  Beowulf 
and  the  existence  of  later  legends  testify  to  a 
period  of  poetic  activity.  Charlemagne  had 
fostered  his  native  tongue,  had  collected  the 
remains  of  the  old  heathen  poetry,  but  his 
work  was  not  preserved.  Under  the  wise 
policy  of  the  Ottos  and  their  successors  the 
national  spirit  again  asserted  itself,  a  distinct 
national  individuality  was  developed,  the  older 
legends  of  fame  and  prowess  were  remem- 
bered, a  second  period  of  classic  literature 
was  a-making. 

The  Crusades  had  aroused  the  Western 
nations.  There  was  an  interchange  of  thought 
and  speculation.  It  was  the  age  of  chivalry. 
The  Nibehmgenlied,  the  Gudrun  and  that 
whole  splendid  galaxy  of  literary  monuments — 
mostly  between  1190-1220 — was  the  result. 
The  translation  of  the  C/ianson  de  Roland  had 
preceded,  1130.  So  had  King  Rather,  and 
Herzog  Ernst.  It  was 

"the  age  when  Frederic  II.  and  Saladin  con- 
tended for  the  palm  of  magnanimity,  while 
the  great  poets  of  the  century,  Walther  and 
Wolfram,  anticipated  Lessing's  Nathan  der 
Weise  in  their  philosophic  conception  and 
bold  teaching  of  universal  toleration." 

Veldecke  had  perfected  rhyme  and  rhythm  in 
German  verse.  Though  greatly  infiuenced  by 
the  French  he  stands  the  "  Father  of  Courtly 
Poetry."  His  successsors,  Hartmann  von  Aue, 
and  Gottfried  von  Strassburg  represent  suc- 
cessive stages  in  the  development  of  the 
court  epic;  the  former,  its  summit,  the  latter, 
by  reason  of  his  over-refinement  and  artifici- 
ality, its  decline. 

Wolfram  was  sui  generis,  standing  between 
the  popular  and  the  courtly  poets.  In  his  two 
epics,  Parcival  and  Willehahn  we  have  the 
best  expression  of  the  Middle  Ages  on  ques 


tions  of  great  spiritual  import :  religious  toler- 
ation, freedom  of  the  will,  relation  of  differing 
faiths  to  each  other,  self-redemption  through 
toil  and  steadfast  effort. 

After  the  brilliant  poetic  activity  of  Walther 
von  der  Vogelweide  the  same  line  of  descent 
marked  lyric  poetry  that  had  marked  the  epic. 
"  It  suffered  first  from  artificiality,  then  from 
vulgarization."  By  gradual  stages  the  palm 
that  had  been  held  by  genius  passed  into  the 
hands  of  the  '  Meistersanger,'  those  prosaic 
burgher-singers  of  the  thirteenth  and  the  suc- 
ceeding centuries.  Poetry  was  nothing  more 
than  doggerel ;  song-making,  a  craft.  Speak- 
ing of  the  works  of  Hans  Sachs'  contempor- 
aries, Dr.  Wells  says  that  they  "are  buried 
deep,  lapped  in  the  lead  of  their  own  dull- 
ness." 

The  Reformation  produced  much  polemical 
writing,  little  that  was  poetic.  Despite  the 
more  perfect  literary  medium  fostered  and 
largely  created  by  Luther  in  his  Bible,  pure 
literature  could  not  take  root.  The  energies 
of  the  German  people  were  bent  on  more 
vital  questions.  Freedom  of  conscience,  re- 
ligious toleration  had  to  be  contended  for  and 
won  before  the  dawn  of  the  new  era,  under 
Frederic  the  Great.  Under  that  monarch 
national  self-consciousness  was  regained  fully 
and  it  found  its  fitting  expression  in  Klopstock 
and  still  more  in  Lessing  and  his  successors. 

Klopstock  was  an  idealist  living  in  the  past. 
The  sensible  world  eluded  his  grasp,  he  lacked 
the  power  of  characterization.  Everywhere 
in  his  Messias  we  find  pietistic  contemplation 
submerging  the  epic  movement.  His  influence 
on  literature  was  chiefly  indirect.  Prosody, 
versification  was  more  closely  studied  by  him 
than  by  his  predecessors. 

Frederic  did  not  sympathize  with  KIop- 
stockian  tendencies.  He  felt  that  the  national 
spirit  must  learn  to  express  itself  in  broader 
terms  and  reflect  more  adequately  the  intel- 
lectual status  of  the  age.  As  for  Wieland's 
influence,  it  was,  of  course,  much  more 
marked.  His  light-hearted  frivolity,  his  de<- 
light  in  the  sensuous,  his  vivid  fancy  and 
delicate  diction  conquered  him  a  ready  do- 
minion. "All  High  Germany  owes  its  style  to 
Wieland,"  says  Goethe;  "it  has  learned  many 
things  from  him  and  not  the  least  of  them 


88 


177 


March,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


178 


the  ability  to  express  itself  with  propriety." 
Through  his  translation  of  Shakespere  Ger- 
man literature  received  an  immense  impulse. 
Much  of  Wieland's  literary  activity  was  of  an 
ephemeral  character;  still,  he  has  earned  the 
right  to  the  esteem  of  his  countrymen,  in  that 
he  did  brave  battle  for  ideas  that  are  now  part 
and  parcel  of  the  literature  of  to-day. 

There  was  more  affinity  between  Lessing  and 
Herder  than  between  Wieland  and  Lessing. 
Herder  is  not  read  much  now,  not  so  much 
because  we  have  outgrown  him,  as  because,  in 
power  of  thought  and  eloquence  of  diction, 
Goethe  and  Schiller  over-topped  him.  Her- 
der's mental  horizon  was  vast  but  not  always 
clear.  He  was  at  his  best  interpreting  others. 
For  that  reason  his  Stimmen  der  Volker  com- 
mends him  most  to  posterity.  In  that  work 
he  could  display  his  sympathetic  nature  best. 
He  had  but  little  creative  power,  but  admir- 
able gift  of  interpretation  and  construction. 
He  was  a  teacher  rather  than  a  prophet,  a 
guide,  rather  than  an  original,  impelling,  in- 
spiring force. 

Dr.  Wells'  treatment  of  '  Lessing,  the  Re- 
former '  seems  to  me  especially  satisfactory. 
With  wide,  bold  strokes  does  he  bring  the 
personality  of  the  great  emancipator  before 
us.  We  have  a  discussion  of  the  times,  cir- 
cumstances and  meaning  of  Minna  von  Barn- 
helm,  of  Nathan,  the  Laocoon,  the  Hambutg 
Dramaturgy,  Emilia  Galotti.  Everywhere 
the  student  is  made  to  feel  the  pulse  of 
literature  throbbing  and  palpitating.  The 
relation  of  the  stage  to  art,  of  literature  to 
life,  of  traditionalism  to  growth  and  progress, 
of  religious  systems  to  each  other,  as  Lessing 
analyzed  and  understood  these  questions,  are 
set  forth  tellingly  and  vividly.  The  reader 
feels  that,  in  Lessing,  a  new  force  had  been 
brought  to  bear  on  German  literature.  "  The 
honor  of  emancipating  German  literature 
from  false  standards  is  his  alone,"  says  our 
author.  Though  the  critic's  labors  were  Les- 
sing's  strongest  side,  modern  times  have 
learned  to  admire  his  constructive  gifts,  his 
other  bequests  to  after-generations.  In  them 
breathes  a  wide  human  spirit,  an  anticipation 
of  nineteenth  century  ideals. 

In  discussing  Goethe  (chapters  5v,  v,  vi)  the 
author  shows  the  same  temperate,  sane  judg- 


ment. He  gives  us  a  sober,  yet  sympathetic 
life-picture  of  the  man  and  the  poet  and,  on 
the  whole,  an  adequate  discussion  of  his 
works.  Occasionally  the  desire  for  brevity 
leads  to  statements  rather  harsher  than  in- 
tended. "She — Iphigenia — awakens  dramatic 
interest  almost  solely  by  her  effort  and  failure 
to  lie  with  a  straight  face."  "  Its  [the  play's] 
ethical  ideals  are  unripe  and  unnatural."  We 
cannot  agree  to  this.  Both  Tasso  and  iphige- 
nie  are  psychological  dramas  and  must  be 
judged  and  appreciated  from  that  standpoint. 
Speaking  of  Hermann  und  Dorothea  we  are 
told: 

"Beneath  an  apparently  simple  story  we 
have  the  contrast  of  two  great  impulses  of 
human  nature,  the  migratory  desire  of  change 
[italics are  mine],  the  restless,  reforming,  icon- 
oclastic spirit,  and  the  slow,  conservative, 
accretive  mind  that  feels  an  instinctive  dread 
of  change,  as  though  it  were  like  a  tree  that 
cannot  be  transplanted  without  losing  some 
increment  of  growth." 

The  migratory  desire  is  certainly  hard  to  dis- 
cover in  the  emigrant  train. 

Here  is  a  neat  little  pen-picture  :  "  No  blue- 
stocking she  [the  Duchess  Amalie] ;  rather,  a 
bright,  joyous  woman,  a  good  dancer,  fond  of 
masked  balls,  and  even  a  little  polite  gamb- 
ling." And  this: 

"Charlotte  von  Stein  was  the  first  woman 
whom  Goethe  had  known  intimately,  who  was 
socially  his  superior,  intellectually  capable  of 
sympathizing  with  him,  and  whose  ethical 
views  would  not  bend  to  his  own.  ...  If  at 
times  he  broke  through  the  bounds  her  sense 
of  propriety  induced  her  to  draw,  there  might 
be  brief  stormy  scenes ;  but  he  always  came 
back  submissive  after  these  '  sun-showers  of 
love '  to  her  for  whom  he  cannot  find  names 
of  sufficiently  extravagant  endearment.  He 
'worships'  her,  she  is  his  'golden  lady,'  his 
'holy  fate,'  his  'soother'  and  'comforter,'  his 
'dear  angel.'  ' 

In  the  chapter  on  Faust,  Dr.  Wells  examines 
the  play  historically,  pointing  out  its  chrono- 
logical and  other  difficulties.  The  admirable 
summary  of  the  present  state  of  criticism  as 
given  by  Dr.  Thomas  is  put  under  frequent 
contribution.  There  is  no  attempt  at  "phi 
losophizing"  or  "interpreting,"  except  in  the 
few  pages  devoted  to  the  Second  Part.  There, 
without  entering  the  polemical  arena,  the 
author  discusses  the  trend  of  thought  and 


89 


179 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


180 


philosophy  underlying.  He  reaches  the  con- 
clusion that 

"  Faust,  if  rightly  apprehended,  offers  two 
poisons,  each  an  antidote  of  the  other,  which 
joined  together  help  and  strengthen.  Neither 
Euphorion's  idealism  that  will  not  touch  the 
earth,  nor,  Mephistopheles'  realism  that  will 
not  rise  above  it,  but  that  just  balance  that 
idealizes  the  real  and  realizes  the  ideal, — that 
is  the  world  wisdom  of  Faust.'1 

Schiller's  early  experiences  and  efforts,  the 
course  of  his  development  from  the  bombas- 
tic, absurd  Robbers  to  the  clear  heights  of 
Tell  or  Maria  Stuart  or  Wallenstcin  forms 
the  subject  of  the  next  two  chapters.  Schiller 
'  On  the  Height '  is  no  longer  the  social  icono- 
clast of  earlier  days.  "  In  his  prime  his  in- 
fluence was  rather  fructifying,  refining,  eman- 
cipating,— in  language,  in  art,  and  in  social 
and  political  life."  True,  the  present  age 
retreats  more  and  more  from  Schiller's  ideals 
of  literary  requirements.  Perhaps  we  ought 
to  love  and  revere  him  more  for  the  effect  his 
art  had  on  Goethe  and  on  elevating  popular 
literary  tastes  in  his  day  and  generation,  than 
in  the  intrinsic  depth  and  worth  of  his  labors. 
This  sounds  like  heresy,  yet  we  are  disposed 
to  agree  quite  largely  with  the  author's  esti- 
mate, when  he  says : 

"  At  times  there  seems  to  have  been  danger 
that  Schiller  would  become  a  poet  of  the 
school  room.  But  to  make  him  that  alone 
would  do  grievous  injustice  to  the  battle  he 
fought,  and  the  victory  he  contributed  in  no 
small  measure  to  win,  for  those  ideals  of  truth 
and  beauty  to  which  he  dedicated  his  life. 
And,  though  our  credence  in  these  should  be 
outworn,  the  fruit  of  his  inspiring  friendship  in 
the  rich  aftermath  of  Goethe's  productivity 
should  secure  him  a  grateful  and  enduring 
memory." 

Much  that  is  said  in  the  chapters  on  Richter, 
Heine  and  the  modern  period  is  exceedingly 
helpful  and  suggestive.  The  ultra-conserva- 
tive as  well  as  the  ultra  progressive  student 
would  find  objections  to  the  calm,  dispas- 
sionate estimates  given.  In  the t  chapter  on 
'  Imaginative  Literature  Since  1850  '  the 
treatment  is  too  condensed  and  encyclopedic 
to  produce  the  effect  the  rest  of  the  volume 
has.  Up  to  the  last  essay,  the  materials  for 
independent  judgment  are  furnished.  There 
is  no  glossing  over,  little  or  no  hero-worship, 
nor,  on  the  other  hand,  is  there  any  super- 


sensitive  Puritanism.  The  reader  cannot  fail 
*o  have  a  juster  view  of  Heine  and  his  labors, 
of  the  conditions  and  limitations  under  which 
he  lived  and  wrote,  of  the  range  and  quality 
of  his  genius,  when  he  has  perused  the  forty 
pages  devoted  to  him.  Here,  as  elsewhere  in 
the  volume,  we  have  a  simple,  straightforward 
exposition  of  what,  to  the  vast  majority  of 
foreign  students,  must  be  the  bone  and  sinew 
of  the  study  of  German. 

Some  few  typographical  errors  have  crept 
in  ;  as,  p.  n,  '  holly  ; '  p.  70,  '  Volker ; '  p.  93, 
'  Wulfenbiittel ; '  p.  112,  '  Dicht  ungund  ; '  p. 
185,  '  century ; '  p.  257,  '  Kraniche  ; '  p.  258, 
'Burgschaft.'  Why  Dr.  Wells  writes  '  Friede- 
ricke  Biron,'  pp.  119, 137,  401,  instead  of 'Brion* 
I  cannot  say. 

LAURENCE  FOSSLER. 
University  of  Nebraska. 


GERMAN  LANGUAGE. 
Unscre  Mutter sprac he,   ihr   Werden  und  ihr 
Wesen,  von  Professor  O.  Weise.     Leipzig : 
B.  G.  Teubner,  1895.     8vo,  pp.  ix,  252. 
THIS  attractive  little  book    has    earned    its 
author  the  prize  offered  by  the  Allgemeiner 
deutscher  Sprachverein  for  an   essay   of   the 
following  character  : 

"  Die  Arbeit  soil  eine  auf  wissenschaftlichem 
Boden  ruhende,  gemein  verstandliche  und 
ubersichtliche  Schilderung  der  raumlichen  und 
zeitlichen  Entwickelung  unserer  Sprache  sein, 
die  das  Hauptgewicht  auf  das  Neuhoch- 
deutsche  legt.  An  qMese  kurz  gefasste  Ge- 
schichte  der  Muttersprache  soil  sich  eine  anre- 
gende  Darstellung  der  gemeinen  hochdeut- 
schen  Sprache  unserer  Zeit  schliessen,  die 
nichtin  der  Form  einerlehrmassigen  (jbersicht 
oder  eines  Nachschlagebuchs,  sondern  als 
eine  lebendige  und  anschauliche  Erorterung 
gedacht  ist  und  zwar  in  einer  Weisel  die 
geeignet  erscheint,  die  ausserliche  Auffassung 
vom  Wesen  der  Sprache  zu  bekampfen  und 
die  weiten  Kreise  der  Gebildeten  zu  fesseln 
und  zu  unterrichten"  (p.  lii). 

The  writer  has  clearly  conceived  and  con- 
stantly borne  in  mind  the  object  of  the  Verein, 
and  no  general  terms  could  better  describehis 
work  than  those  of  the  conditions  which  it 
was  written  to  fulfil.  It  is  essentially  a  "  pop- 
ular "  book.  One  would  think  it  could  hardly 
fail  to  become  popular  in  Germany;  for  its 
readable  and  intensely  patriotic  narrative  sets 


90 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


182 


forth  a  considerable  array  of  facts  about  their 
language,  in  which  a  large  portion  of  the  Ger- 
man public  must  be  glad  to  be  so  pleasantly 
instructed.  As  to  foreign  readers,  one  cannot 
speak  so  unreservedly ;  yet  those  who  can 
make  allowances  for  a  rather  absurd  type  of 
German  patriotism  will  find  much  here  to  in- 
terest and  edify.  The  treatise  is  elementary, 
and  intelligible  to  anyone  that  can  read  Ger- 
man. To  the  advantages,  however,  of  a 
"  vivid  and  untechnical  discussion  " — not  free 
from  dangers  of  its  own  kind — must  be  reck- 
oned as  disadvantages  the  necessary  brevity 
of  treatment  accorded  to  purely  linguistic 
phenomena,  and  the  impossibility  of  introduc- 
ing material  in  an  order  satisfactory  from  the 
point  of  view  of  linguistic  science.  Professor 
Weise  has  neither  avoided  these  dangers  nor 
overcome  these  disadvantages.  A  good  deal 
of  his  philology  would  lose  its  force  to  one  not 
already  familiar  with  the  truths  it  embodies, and 
on  the  other  hand,  the  fallacious  metaphors 
which  it  has  been  the  most  earnest  endeavor 
of  the  modern  school  to  avoid,  flourish  in 
this  book  like  a  green  bay  tree.  Further- 
more, that  must  be  regarded  as  an  extremely 
unhappy  arrangement  which  devotes  but  one 
chapter  of  thirty-six  pages  to  a  historical 
sketch  of  the  German  language,  and  begs  the 
reader,  as  Professor  Weise  does,  to  take  each 
of  the  following  chapters  as  supplementary  to 
the  first;  especially  when  those  chapters  are 
occupied  with  comparatively  unrelated  topics 
like  "  Beziehung  der  Sprache  zur  Volksart," 
"Die  Stammesart  (Ober-  und  Niederdeutsch- 
land")and  "Die  Standesunterschiede  (Mundart 
und  Schriftsprache)."  The  author  circles  about 
his  subject,  surveying  it  from  different  sides, 
while  all  historical  data  are  introduced  by  the 
way,  as  they  happen  to  serve  his  immediate 
purposes. 

The  author  has  his  eye  mostly  on  the 
Wesen  of  the  language,  and  his  treatment  of 
it  is  much  more  satisfactory  than  his  treatment 
of  the  Werden ;  yet  for  most  purposes  the 
Werden  is  the  more  important  matter.  With 
respect  to  this,  the  best  thing  that  can  be  said 
of  the  book  is,  perhaps,  that  it  is  a  sort  of 
etymological  dictionary  in  connected  dis- 
course— not,  to  be  sure,  a  book  of  reference 
for  individual  words,  for  in  spite  of  the  index 


added  to  the  second  edition  it  is  not  adapted 
to  the  purposes  of  a  dictionary,  but  a  series  of 
essays  in  which  the  etymology  of  a  long  list  of 
words  is  given  incidentally.  In  his  discussion 
of  the  Wesen,  Professor  Weise  has  pointed  out 
many  significant  features  of  modern  German, 
and  theorized  largely  about  the  differences 
between  German  and  other  languages,  and 
about  the  source  of  these  differences  in 
national  character.  A  good  part  of  what 
he  says  is  self-evident  ;  for  instance, 
"  Er  [i.e.  der  Wortschatz]  sagt  uns,  dass  wir 
yon  den  Oberdeutschen  mit  den  Eigentiim- 
lichkeiten  des  Hochgebirges  bekanntgemacht 
worden  und  bei  den  Niederdeutschen  im  See- 
wesen  in  die  Lehre  gegangen  sind"  (p.  67), 

and  much  else,  not  so  certain.  In  either  case, 
there  is  nowadays  no  place  in  howsoever 
a  "  lebendige  und  anschauliche  Erorterung  " 
for  such  expressions  as  : 

"Die  Germanen  umwohnen,  in  mehrere  Zweige 
geschieden,  die  Gestade  der  Ostsee.  Aber 
wie  siedendes  Wasser  leicht  iiberwallt,  so  ist 
auch  die  iiberschaumende  Kraft  des  wander- 
lustigen  Volkes  noch  nicht  zur  Ruhe  gekom- 
men,  so  sucht  auch  seine  Sprache  bald 
die  Fesseln  der  altiiberlieferten  Form  zu 
sprengen.  Wahrend  die  Genossen  der  Urzeit, 
die  iibrigen  Indogermanen,  bisdahin  nvehr  die 
weicheren  Selbstlauter,  das  zarte  Fleisch  des 
Wortkorpers,  angetastet  hatten,  vvaren  die 
Schlage,  die  die  Germanen  unbewusst  ihrer 
Sprache,  versetzten,  vornehmlich  gegen  die 
harteren  Mitlauter,  das  feste  Knochengeriist 
am  Leibe  der  Worter  gerichtet"  (p.  2). 

How  people  can  strike  such  blows  uncon- 
sciously is  a  mystery,  unless  i^  be  after  the 
manner  of  Just  in  Minna  von  Barnhelm,  and 
then  it  is  a  wonder  that  the  people  are  not 
awakened  by  the  movement.  More  mislead- 
still  : 


"  Steht  die  freie  Behandlung  der  Gerausch- 
laute  (Latitverschiebung)  mit  dem  kiihnen 
Freiheitssinn  und  dem  unbandigen  Thaten- 
durst  der  alten  Germanen  im  Einklang,  so 
zeigt  ihr  Verfahren  gegen  den  Wortton,  dass 
sie  bald  den  Inhalt  hoher  schatzen  lernten  als 
die  Form,  das  Wesen  hoher  als  den  Schein." 

It  would  be  easy  but  needless  to  multiply 
these  examples.  Those  given  indicate  suffi- 
ciently either  that  the  author  holds  entirely 
erroneous  views  concerning  the  Wesen  of  lan- 
guage and  the  causes  underlying  sound- 
changes,  or  that  he  indulges  in  figures  of 
speech  to  an  extent  which  precludes  a  clear 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


184 


and  accurate  presentation  of  such  matters. 
Infelicities  of  expression  involving  misappre_ 
hension  of  matters  of  fact  are  equally  numer. 
ous. 

The  chapter  on  the  "  Wortschatz  ein  Spiegel 
der  Gesittung  "  (pp.  87  ff.),  for  example,  sug- 
gests more  than  one  query  as  to  historical  ac- 
curacy. There  is  no  precise  indication  as  to 
what  the  period  under  discussion  is,  though 
most  of  the  signs  point  "to  remote  antiquity. 
The  author  speaks  of  the  possession  of  herds  by 
the  Germanic  forefathers,  of  the  use  of  cattle 
as  currency,  and  adds  : 

"  In  der  Wendung  'eine  Schuld  beitreiben' 
schimmert  noch  deutlich  die  Erinnernng  an 
eine  Zeit  durch,  wo  die  Schuld  in  wirklich 
gangbarer,  d.  h.  vierbeiniger  Miinze  beglichen 
wurde.  Endlich  lassen  die  Worte  'seine  Haut 
zu  Markte  tragen  '  noch  ziemlich  klar  erken- 
nen,  dass  man  einst  die  Haute  seiner  ge- 
schlachteten  Haustiere  als  Bussgeld  verwen- 
dete"  (p.  91). 

.  .  .  "Vom  Vieh  ist  auch  die  iibertragene 
Bedeutung  des  Umstandswortes  'iiberhaupt' 
hergenommen ;  tiber  houbet,  d.h.  'iiber  die 
Haupter  des  Viehs  hinweg  '  "  (ibid.  Note  4). 

I  fancy  it  would  be  difficult  to  trace  these 
expressions  back  to  a  time  anywhere  near  the 
period  described  ;  iiberhaupt  and  gangbar  are 
not  found  until  the  late  Middle  High  German 
period,  the  latter  appearing  first  in  negative 
form  (cf.  Grimm,  Kluge).  The  same  criticism 
applies  to  unter  den  Hammer  kommen  (p.  99), 
referred  to  the  hammer  of  Thor  and  the 
"steinerne  Hammer  von  unseren  Vorfahren 
noch  als  Waffe?  benutzt,"  and  eine  Zeichnueg 
entwrrfen  (p.  101,  Note  4)  derived  from  the 
"  Sitte  des  Runenwerfens."  Of  like  charac- 
ter is  the  curiously  naive  remark  : 

"Die  ehelichen  Verhaltnisse  waren  gut;  na- 
tiirlich  fehlte  es  auch  nicht  an  Ausnahmen.  Die 
Stabreimformel  'Kind  nnd  Kegel'  .  .  .  giebt  in 
dieser  Hinsicht  zu  denken"  (p.  96). 

Kegel  is  like  iiberhaupt,  a  Middle  High  Ger- 
man word. 

In  comparing  Middle  with  New  High  Ger- 
man, Professor  VVeise  is  infelicitous  when  he 
says:  (p.  13)  "die  Fiirworter  boten  vielfach 
andere  Formen :  des,  wes,  der,  den=dessen, 
wessen,  deren,  deaen."  Of  course,  it  is  the  lat- 
ter forms  that  need  explanation, not  the  former. 
Again,  in  contrasting  German  with  French 
accent  he  says: 


"  Im  Deutschen  Hegt  schon  seit  sehr  langer 
Zeit  der  Hauptnachdruck  meist  auf  der  Stamm- 
silbe,  welche  die  Bedutung,  den  eigentlichen 
Gehalt  des  Wortes  in  sich  schliesst,"..."Diese 
Regel  erleidet  meist  nur  in  dem  Fall  eine 
Ausnahme,  wenn  eine  andere  Silbe  fur  den 
Wortsinn  von  auschlaggebender  Wichtigkeit 
ist :  z.  B.  unklar  als  Gegensatz  zu  klar."  (pp. 
44  f.  and  note). 

The  omission  of  such  obvious  exceptions  as 
compound  nouns  and  separably  compounded 
verbs,  is  significant  of  the  method  which  does 
not  undertake  to  tell  the  whole  truth  in  mat- 
ters of  this  kind.  Verbs  fare  no  better.  The 
relation  of  kann  and  kennen  is  beyond  ques- 
tion ;  yet  it  is  certainly  not  in  the  proportion, 
"kann :  kennen=gewann  :  gewinnen  "  (p.  144) ; 
so,  "  Bei  den  schwachen  [Verben]  .  .  .  bleibt 
der  Stamm  fast  durchwegunverandert"(p.i4o), 
but  why  not  adduce  the  classes  of  bringen  and 
brennen  instead  of  saying  "  fast  durchweg  "  ? 
And  why  not  explain  the  formation  of  causa- 
tive from  active  verbs  instead  of  contenting 
one's  self  with  : 

"Zu  einem  Mittel  der  Unterscheidung  zwi- 
schen  zielender  (transitiver)  und  zielloser  (in- 
transitiver)  Form  ist  die  Wahl  (!)  der  Abwand- 
lungsart  geworden  bei  erschreckte  :  erschrack, 
schwellte  :  schwoll,  loschte  :  erlosch,verderbte: 
verdarb"  (p.  145). 

It  would  be  well  also  to  mention  the  change 
of  Germanic  e  to  i  before  the  u  of  the  per- 
sonal ending  in  the  present  indicative  of 
strong  verbs  (cf.  ahd.  hilfu,  gibu}  by  way  of 
supplement  to  "Selten  wird  e  zu  i  vor  fol- 
gendem  u ;  z.  B.,  in  situ,  Sitte=e5ot,  sibun= 
septem"  (p.  133).  In  the  treatment  of 
nouns  a  few  inaccuracies  occur.  Brosamen  is 
not  derived  from  brechen  (p.  129),  of  which 
the  Germanic  root  is  brek,  but  is  related  either 
to  the  Germanic  root  brut  (cf.  ags.  br&otari) 
or  to  the  Keltic-Germanic  root  brus(cL  Kluge); 
nor  Schwanz  from  schwanken,  but  by  means 
of  the  intensive  formations  swangezen,  swank- 
zen  from  schwingen  (cf.  Kluge).  Middle  High 
German  gilete  and  schoene  (p.  141)  are  not 
originally  of  the  6  but  of  the? declension  ;  and 
there  are  difficulties  in  the  way  of  showing 
that  "  vom  konsonantischem  Stamme  kommt 
auch  der  zeitbestimmende  Wesfall  Nachts— 
mhd.  nahtes"  (p.  146).  The  O.H.G.  genitive 
was  naht,  while  the  form  nahtes  was  used  only 
adverbially  and  was  likely  due  to  analogy. 


92 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


1 86 


Mistakes  of  fact,  except  in  so  far  as  some  of 
the  above  may  be  so  interpreted,  are  happily 
few  in  the  book.  It  may  be  asked  what  is 
meant  by  "  Fur  ihn  [Otfrid]  war  in  erster 
Linie  der  Gedanke  an  seine  Gemeinde  mass- 
gebend  "  (p.  7).  "Was  der  Deutsche  zu  thun 
pflegt,  wird  ihm  zur  Pflicht "  (p.  51),  is  pre- 
cisely hind  side  before,  since  Pflicht  \s  the  ab- 
stract noun  to  pjiegen  long  before  the  verb  is 
used  with  the  meaning  'to  be  accustomed  to.' 
It  is  by  no  means  certain  that  "Mond  von 
Hans  aus  den  (Zeit-)Messer  bezeichnet " 
(p.  88).  Ddnemark  is  apparently  not  '  Danen- 
wald  '  (p.  89),  but  simply  '  Danengrenze  '  (cf. 
Vigftisson  and  Kluge);  nor  is  Seeland  (p.  89) 
to  be  derived  from  an.  lundr  (not  lund  as 
cited  by  Professor  Weise)  but  rather  to  be  di- 
vided Seel-  and  and  referred  to  the  root  sal. 
cf.  Vigfusson).  "  Dass  es  Freude  bereitete, 
das  Vieh  zur  Weidezur  fiihren,  sagt  das  Wort 
Wonne='  Weide  '  "  (p.  90).  Wonne,  however, 
mhd.  wunne  (wiinne),  ahd  wunna  (wunni)  got. 
*wunja,  has  in  fact  quite  a  different  history 
from  the  first  member  of  the  compound  Won- 
nemonatto  which  Professor  Weise  refers,  for 
this  is  related  through  mhd.  wiinne,  ahd. 
wunnea  to  got.  winja  'pasturage,'  'fodder' 
(cf.  Kluge).  I  question  also  whether  in  Luth- 
er's wollen  dock  solcher  Predigt  nicht,  ich 
kenne  des  Menschen  nicht  we  have  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  genitive  by  the  verb.  It 
seems  more  likely  that  the  genitive  is  parti- 
tive in  the  Middle  High  German  fashion  after 
nicht.  I  cannot  find  that  in  M.H.G.  wollen  or 
kennen  govern  the  genitive.  Franke  (Schrift- 
sprache  Luthers,  p.  239)  finds  that  wollen 
governs  in  Luther  the  accusative ;  the  only 
example  of  the  genitive  cited  being  the  one 
given  above ;  while  nicht  occurs  for  nichts 
(ib.  p.  270).' 

A  few  minor  errors  remain  to  be  corrected. 
English  clip  (p.  93,  note  3)  is  Shaksperian,  but 
not  modern  for  '  embrace  ; '  dear  (p.  226,  1.  27) 
should  read  deer;  and  wafre  (p.  232,  note), 

i  Grimm,  Wb.  s.  v.  kennen  cites:  "ich  kenn  dein  nit, 
wann  du  hast  mein  nit  bekant,  dieweil  du  lebest"' — Heili- 
genleben,  1472,  izya.  Cf.  Gram,  iv,  652:  "durch  jenes  dieein- 
fache  negation  begleitende  niotuiht  niht  warden  fast  al'.e  ahd. 
und  mhd.  verneinenden  siitze  in  bezug  auf  die  partitive  con- 
struction zweifelhaft."  Kehrein,  Gram.,  gives  no  example 
of  a  genitive  after  ivollen;  and  none  without  a  negation 
after  kennen  (iii,  123).  • 


wafer.  I  do  not  know  what  is  meant  by  Eng- 
lish bill  (p.  102,  1.  30)  associated  with  German 
Unbill  and  billig,  unless  possibly  an  imagi- 
nary noun  from  A.S.  bilewit.  Mhd  (p.  153,  1. 
10)  is  evidently  a  misprint  for  nhd. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  errors  pointed  out 
are  not  of  great  moment  in  themselves,  and 
detract  but  little  from  the  value  of  the  work 
from  the  author's  point  of  view.  Adverse 
criticism  is  indeed  based  largely  upon  a  dif- 
ference of  opinion  as  to  method  and  manner. 
For  a  book  of  its  kind  Unsere  Muttersprache 
is  carefully  and  well  written,  and  the  scientific 
basis  of  it  may  be  pronounced  sufficient. 
Much  useful  material  is  here ;  the  aptly  intro- 
duced bibliography  is  especially  full ;  and 
the  treatment  is  stimulating.  The  book  will 
not  fill  the  want,  still  felt  by  so  many 
learners  of  German,  of  a  systematic  and 
somewhat  detailed  histbry  of  the  language, 
correlating  the  grammars  of  different  periods, 
and  explaining  the  peculiarities  of  modern 
German.  But  in  its  own  sphere  it  may,  after 
a  proper  caution,  be  commended  to  American 
students. 

WILLIAM  GUILD  HOWARD. 
Harvard  University. 


CORRESPONDENCE. 


THE      ELIZABETHAN      ATTITUDE 

TOWARDS     INSANITY. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS  : — The  interesting  thesis  of  Mr.  Cor- 
bm's  recent  work  on  "  The  Elizabethan  Ham- 
let," in  regard  to  the  conventionally  comic 
aspects  of  insanity  to  the  contemporaries  of 
Shakspere,  might  be  enforced  by  many  cita- 
tions from  the  literature  of  the  time  other 
than  those  noticed  by  Mr.  Corbin.  In  Percy's 
Reliques  (ed.  Wheatley,  London,  1886,  vol.  ii, 
pp.  344  f.)  there  is  a  sheaf  of  old  songs  and 
ballads  of  madness.  The  intent  of  several  of 
these  is  obviously  comic.  The  mad-songs 
from  Tom  D'Urfey  of  a  somewhat  later  date 
(1694),  with  their  bathetical  attempts  at  the 
sentimentally  romantic,  suggest  that  the  seri- 
ous acceptance  of  the  pathos  of  insanity  be- 
gan early — of  course  it  was  existent  with  the 
Elizabethans  alongside  of  the  comic  interpre- 


93 


i87 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


1 88 


tation,  as  Mr.  Corbin  points  out— and  that  it 
rapidly  grew  to  be  the  conventional  point  of 
view.  There  is  a  good  deal  of  this  sort  of 
thing  throughout  the  literature  of  the  Eigh- 
teenth Century,  where  it  plays  a  part  worth 
noticing  in  the  Romantic  Reaction.  Mr.  Cor- 
bin has  pointed  out  several  of  the  mad-scenes 
in  Elizabethan  literature  which  are  important 
material  in  the  study  of  this  topic.  My  obser- 
vations include  the  following :  Greene's  Or- 
lando Furioso  (see  especially  in  ed.  Dyce, 
London,  1861,  pp.  99  «.,  100,  104-106 — the  ef- 
fect striven  for  is  very  mixed,  but  the  fantasti- 
cally comic  is  obviously  one  of  the  elements); 
Marlowe's  First  Part  of  Tamburlaine,&c.\.  v, 
scene  ii  (ed.  Bullen,  i,  97 — where  the  effect  to 
us  moderns  at  least  is  bloody  and  sombre  ;  in- 
deed, Was  Marlowe  likely  to  design  it  other- 
wise ?);  Lyly  (?),  The  Woman  in  the  Moon,  act 
v  (ed.  Fairholt,  vol.  ii,  pp.  199  f. — this  is  a 
"piteous  lunacye,"  but  the  intention  is  sa- 
tiric); Webster,  The  White  Devil  (in  the  part 
of  Cornelia,  with  its  obvious  reminiscences  of 
Shakspere),  and  the  sufficiently  noted  dance  of 
madmen  in  The  Duchess  of  Malfi  (commented 
upon  by  Mr.  Corbin);  Middleton's  Changeling 
(similarly  noted) ;  Ford's  The  Broken  Heart, 
iv,  sc.  ii  (intention  pathetic);  Jonson,  The 
Alchemist,  act  iv,  sc.  iii  (a  bit  of  feigned 
lunacy),  and  in  Bartholomew  Fair,  the  part 
of  Trouble-all  (a  comic  madman) ;  Dekker's 
First  Part  of  the  Honest  Whore,  act  v,  sc.  ii 
(note  that  the  visitors  to  the  madhouse  first 
laugh  at  the  "first  madman's"  ravings,  but 
are  rebuked  for  it — "Do  you  laugh  at  God's 
creatures?" — ;  then  they  comment,  "A  very 
piteous  sight  ");  Shirley's  The  Cardinal,  act 
v,  sc.  iii  (feigned  madness  ? — the  treatment  is 
serious);  Kyd's  Spanish  Tragedy  (Hazlitt's 
Dodsley,  v,  56  f.,  94  f.,  106  f.,  130  f.;  cf.  p.  164). 
Massinger's  A  Neiv  Way  to  Pay  Old  Debts, 
act  v  (Sir  Giles  Overreach);  Fletcher's  TXte 
Pilgrim,  act  iii,  sc.  vii,  act  iv,  sc.  iii,  act  v,  sc. 
v  (here  we  have  the  interior  of  a  madhouse, 
which  the  Pilgrim  is  taken  to  see  as  one  of 
the  sights  of  the  city.  He  is  promised  the 
view  of  fancies  and  gestures — 

"  Some  of  pity, 

That  it  would  make  you  melt  to  see  their  passions  ; 
And  some  as  light  again,  that  ivoultl  content  you."1 

Fletcher's    The  Noble  Gentleman,  I,  sc.iii,  iii, 


sc.  ii,  iv,  sc.  iii,  v,  sc.  i  (in  the  part  of  Chatil- 
lion,  "  a  gentleman  mad  for  love  ");  Fletcher's 
The  Nice  Valor,  or  The  Passionate  Madman, 
passim ;  and  The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  iii, 
sc.  iv,  v,  sc.  i,  iii,  v,  sc.  ii  (the  Jailor's  daugh- 
ter running  mad  for  love  of  Palamon  is  wel- 
comed by  the  morris-dancers  as  one  who  will 
make  their  fortunes.  She  joins  their  dance 
before  the  Duke.  The  pathos  of  her  state 
is  accentuated,  though  somewhat  bizarrely). 
See  also  Campion's  The  Lords'  Masque  (ed. 
Bullen,  pp.  192  f. — Mania,  the  goddess  of  Mad- 
ness, the  dance  of  the  Twelve  Frantics,  etc.). 
Outside  of  the  drama  an  interesting  burlesque 
treatment  of  insanity  is  to  be  found  in  Anth- 
ony Scoloker's  (?)  Daiphantus,  or  The  Pas- 
sions of  Love,  Comical  to  read,  But  Tragi- 
cal to  Act,  London,  1604  (reprinted  in  Arber's 
English  Garner,  vol.  vii  pp.  379  f.).  In  the 
mock-dedication  the  author  pretends  that 
such  a  poem  as  his  ought  to  be 

"  like  h\Qnd\yShake-speare's  Tragedies,  where 
the  Comedian  rides,  when  the  Tragedian  stands 
on  tiptoe.  Faith,  it  should  please  all,  like 
Prince  Hamlet !  But,  in  sadness,  then  it  were 
to  be  feared,  he  would  run  mad.  In  sooth,  I 
will  not  be  moonsick,  to  please !  nor  out  of 
my  wits,  though  I  displease  all  !  " 

See  also  pp.  408-9,  where  Daiphantus  runs 
mad  for  love. 

"  TASSO  he  finds,  hy  that  of  HAMLET  thinks, 
Terms  him  a  madman,  then  of  his  ink  horn  drinks!" 
. . . ."  Puts  off  his  clothes  !  his  shirt  he  only  wears  ! 
Much  like  mad  HAMLET,  thus,  as  Passion  tears  1" 

The  satirical  intent  here  is  obvious.  But 
did  the  audience  of  Shakspere's  Hamlet  find 
cause  for  merriment  in  the  supposed  madness 
of  the  part  ?  Did  Hamlet,  in  order  to  give 
the  groundlings  a  fit  of  mirth  and  thus 
"  please  all,"  "  run  mad  "  ? 

FREDERIC   IVES  CARPENTER. 
The  University  of  Chicago. 


GROOVY. 

To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS  : — Professor  Brander  Matthews  calls  at- 
tention in  your  issue  of  December,  1895,  to  the 
words  groovy  and  grooviness,  which  he  ranks 
as  Briticisms ;  but  I  am  sure  that  many  of  us 
have  suffered  the  dint  of  these  words  afar 
from  British  soil.  A  particularly  delicious 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Yol.  xi,  No.  3. 


190 


use  of  groovy  occurs  repeatedly  in  a  college 
catalog,  so-called,  published  in  1892  by  Cecil- 
ian  College,  Cecilian  P.O.,  Hardin  Co.,  Ken- 
tucky. I  do  not,  of  course,  assert  that  groovy 
can  be  found  in  any  reputable  American 
magazine  ;  the  words  quoted  below  are  those 
of  the  "Cecilian"  school-master,  who  was 
born  and  bred  in  Kentucky. 

"  If  teachers  want  to  know  how  to  do  all 
this,  instead  of  smelling  along  after  the  books, 
let  them  come  to  Cecilian,  and  learn  to  leave 
off  their  old  granny  methods  and  groovy 
ways,  and  come  to  the  front." 

E.  H.  LEWIS. 

University  of  Chicago. 

A  CORRECTION. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS: — In  Prof.  Henneman's  otherwise  ac- 
curate account  of  the  paper  read  by  me  at  the 
Yale  meeting,  there  is  one  slip  which  I  must 
hasten  to  correct. 

It  is  to  be  found  in  your  issue  of  February, 
column  69,  about  two  thirds  down  the  column, 
and  reads  thus  : 

"The  sense-power  of  most  persons  is  ob- 
tuse. This  obtuseness  is  Anglo-American, 
generally,  but  it  is  essentially  American ; 
there  is  an  impatience  at  etiquette  and  at  all 
form,  and  one  personally  resents  correction  as 
one  would  a  slur." 

This  makes  me  say  something  unpleasantly 
like  nonsense.  Why  should  I  assert  that  "the 
sense-power  of  most  persons  is  obtuse"? 
What  I  did  assert  was  : 

1.  That  the  sense  of  form  is  not  acute  in 
the  Anglo-American  race  in  general; 

2.  That   this   obtuseness   is   aggravated  in 
the  American  race  by  the  spirit  of  democracy; 

3.  That  this  obtuseness  manifests  itself,  in 
our  writing,   as  an  impatience  of  correction. 
Our  young  men  resent  correction,  as  if  it  were 
a  slur,  an  infringement  upon  their  right  to  say 
what  they  please  as  they  please. 

J.  M.  HART. 
Cornell  University. 


WRITTEN    TRANSLATIONOF 
FRENCH    AND     GERMAN    IN 
TEACHING    ENGLISH 

COMPOSITION. 

To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 
SIRS  : — In  common  with  others  who  had  the 


pleasure  of  listening  to  President  Hart's  ad- 
dress before  the  Modern  Language  Associa- 
tion at  its  recent  meeting  in  New  Haven,  I 
was  much  interested  by  his  able  presentation 
of  the  question  now  receiving  general  atten- 
tion;  namely,  the  remedy  for  the  unsatisfac- 
tory work  of  secondary  schools  in  preparatory 
English.  While  I  am  not  qualified  to  speak  as 
a  teacher  in  secondary  schools,  I  have  had 
some  experience  with  the  product  of  those 
institutions,  conditioned  college  students. 

English,  French  and  German  are  almost 
invariably  neglected  for  what  the  schools 
seem  to  think  the  determining  qualifications 
for  admission:  Greek,  Latin  and  Mathematics; 
or  Natural  Sciences  and  Mathematics,  as  the 
case  may  be.  Three-fifths  of  the  students 
conditioned  in  German  or  French  are  condi- 
tioned in  English  as  well, and  I  believe  that  in  the 
proper  study  of  the  "Modern  Languages"  lies 
the  remedy  for  defective  English.  If  a  teacher 
beginning  work  with  a  student  conditioned  in 
German,  for  example,  will  make  it  his  first 
business  to  ascertain  how  much  English  the 
boy  knows,  he  will  often  find  that  he  has 
failed  in  translation  largely  because  he  is  un- 
able to  use  his  own  language. 

The  best  remedy  for  this  condition  of  things 
I  have  found  to  be  written  translation  of  nar- 
rative prose.  The  work  must  be  done  as 
carefully  with  respect  to  writing  good  Eng- 
lish prose  as  to  making  a  faithful  translation. 
The  logical  relation  of  clauses,  the  emphatic 
position  of  words  and  phrases  in  the  two 
languages  must  be  understood,  and  accurate 
punctuation  must  be  insisted  upon.  For  how 
can  a  beginner  render  an  involved  German 
sentence  without  a  careful  observance  of  the 
various  marks,  both  in  the  original  and  in  his 
translation  ?  This  work  may  be  made  of  incal- 
culable value  in  the  discrimination  of  syno- 
nyms. Especially  is  the  student  taught  the 
correct  use  of  adjectives,  usually  his  weakest 
point.  These  things  cannot  be  accurately  ob- 
served and  corrected  except  in  a  written  exer- 
cise, and  hence  a  part  of  the  work  should  be 
presented  in  this  form. 

The  importance  of  oral  translation  and  of 
sight-reading  are  not  forgotten.  After  a  few 
weeks'  practice  in  written  translation  a  de- 
cided improvement  appears,  and  more  than 


95 


March,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  3. 


192 


once  a  student  has  been  able  to  pass  his  Eng- 
lish examination  in  consequence  of  the  work 
done  in  making  up  a  German  condition. 

I  believe,  then,  that  the  preparatory  schools 
should  be  urged  to  include  in  their  curricula 
written  translation,  from  German  or  French, 
and  made  to  understand  that  no  translation, 
however  good  literally,  will  be  accepted  for 
admission  that  is  not  given  in  correct  Eng- 
lish. For  this  purpose  translation  from  French 
or  German  is  better  than  from  the  Classics,  be- 
cause printed  versions  are  not  so  accessible  or 
so  likely  to  be  used,  and  because  the  subject- 
matter  is  more  easily  rendered  into  idioma- 
tic English.  This  plan  has  advantages  for 
certain  purposes  even  over  original  English 
composition.  The  student  is  not  troubled 
with  invention,  and  he  has  not  recourse  to 
books  for  proper  modes  of  expression.  The 
average  school  composition  is  a  potpourri  of 
descriptive  phrases  culled  from  every  available 
source.  This  evil  the  extempore  composition 
in  vogue  at  some  schools  effectually  checks. 
What  is  the  first  work  done  in  prose  compo- 
sition by  the  English-speaking  student  of  a 
foreign  language?  Translation  of  English 
narrative  prose.  Why,  then,  is  not  transla- 
tion of  French  or  German  narrative  prose 
advantageous  to  an  English-speaking  student 
defective  in  his  own  language  ? 

The  adoption  of  such  a  plan  as  I  have  out- 
lined means  more  work  for  the  Modern-Lan- 
guage teachers  in  secondary  schools,  perhaps 
an  addition  to  the  teaching  force  in  some 
cases.  It  also  means  that  the  teachers  of 
French  and  German  in  those  schools  must  be 
masters  of  English,  and  hence  quite  differ- 
ently qualified  from  the  average  "native 
teacher"  found  there.  To  the  proprietors  of 
some  schools  it  might  not  be  a  welcome 
change,  for  it  would  mean  higher  salaries  for 
the  department  heretofore  the  least  expensive 
on  the  pay-roll.  To  the  colleges  it  would  be 
a  most  decided  benefit,  and  it  is  their  right  to 
demand  that  the  schools  shall  do  thoroughly 
what  their  year-books  promise. 

WM.   ADDISON   HERVEY. 
Columbia  College,  N.  Y. 


BRIEF  MENTION. 

A  new  edition,  the  filth  in  order,  of  Hettner's 


Die  franzbsische  Literatur  im  achtzehnten 
Jahrhundert  has  been  recently  prepared  for 
the  press  by  Heinrich  Morf  (Braunschweig  : 
Druck  und  Verlag  von  Friedrich  Vieweg  und 
Sohn,  1894,  8vo,  pp.  xi,  601).  In  the  fourteen 
years  that  had  passed  since  the  author's  last 
revision  considerable  new  material  had  ac- 
cumulated, which  Morf  has  endeavored  to 
incorporate  in  the  original  text.  Naturally 
some  of  this  recent  work  would  modify  to  a 
considerable  extent  the  judgments  formed  by 
Hettner,  as  well  as  alter  their  relative  im- 
portance. But  the  reviser  has  aimed  at  as 
little  change  as  possible,  contenting  himself 
with  adding  minor  details  and  with  giving 
certain  writers,  notably  La  Mettrie  and  Grimm, 
a  larger  place  in  the  narrative.  Comments  on 
these  additions  are  superfluous.  They  are  in 
no  way  inferior  to  the  matter  they  supplement. 
If  we  might  offer  a  criticism  anywhere  it  is  in 
regard  to  the  make-up  of  the  book,  a  criticism 
which  would  probably  not  appeal  to  German 
authors  and  publishers.  The  matter  inserted 
by  Morf  amounts  in  extent  to  about  one  ninth 
of  the  original  volume.  In  order  not  sensi- 
bly to  increase  its  bulk,  the  editor  has  com- 
pressed his  lines  and  changed  his  type,  so 
that  a  page  contains  at  least  two  lines  more 
than  the  edition  we  have  at  hand  (the  second), 
and  the  line  is  made  to  hold  one  additional 
word  of  moderate  length.  The  result  is  that 
more  effort  must  be  spent  on  the  mere  reading 
of  the  book  ;  and  for  foreigners,  whoSe  daily 
practise  is  with  Roman  characters,  this  com- 
bination of  crowded  lines  with  German  letters 
amounts  to  a  measurable  physical  fatigue. 
Possibly  the  substitution  of  Roman  for  Ger- 
man type  might  not  help  matters  here,  should 
the  limited  pagination  be  adhered  to,  but  in 
general  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  all  works  on 
science  and  foreign  literature  published  in 
Germany  are  not  printed  in  that  type  which  is 
the  more  widely  used. 


96 


MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES. 


Baltimore,  April,   1896. 

The  Rom  aunt  of  the    Rose:    ADDI- 
TIONAL EVIDENCE  THAT  IT  IS 
CHAUCER'S. 

THERE  are  five  poems  included  in  modern 
editions  of  Chaucer's  works  that  are  now 
generally  recognized  as  not  his.  These  are 
The  Cuckoo  and  the  Nightingale,  The  Com- 
plaint of  a  Lover'1  s  Life,  The  Flower  and 
the  Leaf,  The  Court  of  Love,  and  Chaucer's 
Dream.  One  other  long  work,  the  English 
version  of  the  famous  French  poem  of  the 
thirteenth  century,  Le  Roman  de  la  Rose, 
which  has  come  down  to  us  as  translated  by 
Chaucer,  is  now  the  subject  of  much  dispute. 

Professor  Skeat  has  inserted  an  essay  in  his 
third  edition  of  the  Prioresses  Tale  in  which 
he  proves  to  his  satisfaction  that  this  poem 
cannot  be  Chaucer's,  reasserting  this  opinion, 
with  some  modifications,  in  his  recent  edition 
of  Chaucer's  complete  works.  He  rests  his 
proof  mainly  on  internal,  philological  grounds, 
relating  to  the  vocabulary,  to  the  dialect,  to 
the  grammar,  and  to  the  rime.  To  speak  ex- 
actly, he  originally  proposed  seven  tests  of  this 
nature,  but  he  has  since  laid  less  stress  upon 
some  of  them,  and,  following  certain  German 
scholars,  so  modified  his  opinions  as  to  admit 
that  a  short  portion  of  the  translation  at  the 
beginning  may  have  been  and  probably  was 
Chaucer's.  He  still  claims,  however,  that  as 
concerns  the  remainder,  the  main  body  of  the 
translation,  his  tests  hold  good. 

In  his  Studies  in  Chaucer,  Professor  Louns- 
bury  has  explained  and  refuted  these  tests  at 
the  length  of  more  than  one  hundred  and 
fifty  pages.  A  discussion,  either  of  the  tests 
or  of  the  arguments  against  them,  is  not 
necessary  here.  One,  for  example,  the  "dia- 
lect test,"  upon  which  Skeat  lays  particular 
stress,  which  he  asserts  would  "alone  prove 
decisive,"  is  shown  by  Lounsbury  to  point  if 
anything  to  a  Chaucerian  authorship.  This  is 
the  test  arguing  from  the  presence  of  Northern 
forms  like  participles  in  -and,  from  the  use  of 
///  for  to,  and  similarly,  in  the  translated 
poem.  Because  these  Northern  forms,  when 


found,  are  essential  to  the  rime  and  hence  in 
no  way  chargeable  to  the  scribe,  it  is  the 
judgment  of  Skeat  that  the  translator  wrote, 
not  in  the  East  Midland  dialect,  like  Chaucer, 
but  in  the  dialect  of  the  North.  If  this  were 
a  fair  statement  of  the  case,  the  presence  of 
these  forms  might  prove  significant,  but  it  is 
not.  If  there  is  a  sprinkling  of  Northern 
forms  in  the  translation,  there  is  also  a  sprink- 
ling of  Southern.  The  employment  of  both 
is  exceptional,  and  in  grammatical  peculiari- 
ties, such  as  the  verb-ending  in  the  third 
singular  present,  the  dialect  regularly  em- 
ployed is  unquestionably  the  Midland.  To 
quote  summarizingly  from  Professor  Louns- 
bury: When  you  consider  that  in  the  7700  lines 
of  the  poem,  there  are  no  more  than  a  possible 
five  cases  of  the  participle  in  -and,  which 
Skeat  would  lead  you  to  suppose  the  usual 
form,  and  scores  and  scores  of  cases  of  the 
Midland  participle  in  -ing,  you  see  which  way 
the  test  really  points.  Because  the  -and  words 
are  used  as  rhyme  words  shows  why  they  are 
used  at  all,  for  the  -ing  ending  would  in  such 
cases  afford  no  rime.  Add  the  consideration 
that  this  -and  ending  is  to  be  found  frequently 
in  manuscripts  of  poems  unquestionably  Chau- 
cer's, and  you  have  the  matter  fairly  stated. 
This  and  Skeat's  remaining  tests  thus  ex- 
amined, and  all,  unless  it  be  the  test  based  on 
rime  and  meter,  adequately  explained,  Pro- 
fessor Lounsbury  relies  mainly  for  his  belief 
that  the  translation  is  Chaucer's  on  a  quantity 
pf  positive  evidence  drawn  from  matters  of 
style,  from  parallelisms  in  language  and  ex- 
pression, in  uses  of  words  and  modes  of 
thought.  Whatever  may  be  thought  of  these 
parallelisms,  which  may  themselves  be  paral- 
leled from  the  works  of  Gower,  or  from  other 
poems  of  the  time,  or  whatever  may  t>e  the 
attitude  of  students  towards  the  genuineness 
of  the  translation,  Professor  Lounsbury  has 
put  forth  a  strong  array  of  arguments,  and 
believes  he  has  shown  that  henceforth  the 
burden  of  proof  should  rest  as  much  with 
those  who  deny  Chaucerian  authorship  as  with 
those  who  affirm  it.  It  must  always  be  re- 
membered, to  quote  a  last  time  from  his  dis- 
cussion, that  though  there  may  seem  to  be 


97 


195 


April,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  translation's  being 
Chaucer's,  there  are  much  greater  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  its  not  being  Chaucer's. 

There  remain  other  tests  which  it  may  be 
interesting  to  apply,  the  tests  of  sentence- 
length  and  sentence-structure.  It  is  not  claimed 
that  the  results  shown  by  the  application  of 
these  tests  should  be  necessarily  conclusive ; 
they  will  be  left  to  stand  on  their  own  merits. 
But  it  is  obvious  that  comparisons  of  the  sets 
of  figures  here  presented,  calculated  from 
Chaucer's  genuine  writings,  from  those  un- 
questionably spurious,  from  the  English  ver- 
sion of  the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose  and  from 
the  French  original,  should  throw  some  light 
upon  the  question,  either  on  one  side  or  on 
the  other.  It  is  also  obvious  that  such  testi- 
mony should  have  equal  weight  with  that 
resting  on  vague  theorizing  or  speculations, 
or  on  the  uncertain  foundations  of  personal 
opinion. 

A  few  words  in  explanation  of  the  tables 
presented.  Throughout  in  making  calcula- 
tions, a  uniform  system  of  punctuation  has 
been  adopted  in  the  poems  investigated.  Any 
rigorously  uniform  system  would  have  served 
the  purpose,  since  it  is  the  relative  results, 
rather  than  the  results  in  themselves,  that  are 
important.  Using  Skeat's  edition  of  Chaucer, 
I  preferred  to  adopt  and  carry  out  consistently 
his  system  of  punctuation  as  shown  in  his 
edition  of  the  Prologue  (Clarendon  Press, 
1891),  reprinted  without  change  in  his  six 
volume  edition  of  1894.  Skeat  had  nothing  in 
view  depending  for  the  value  of  its  demon- 
stration on  the  uniformity  of  his  punctuation, 
and  hence  does  not  always  carry  out  his  own 
principles,  varying  sometimes  within  the  same 
poem,  sometimes  between  different  poems. 
In  such  cases  I  have  repunctuated  to  render 
the  whole  uniform.  In  the  858  lines  of  the 
Prologue,  some  twenty  changes  were  made, 
carrying  out  his  principle  of  ending  one  sen- 
tence and  beginning  another  wherever  the 
sense  seemed  grammatically  complete.  Thus 
in  the  following : 

Bifel  that,  in  a  seson  on  a  day, 

In  Southwerk  at  the  Tabard  as  I  lay 

Redy  to  wenden  on  my  pilgrimage 

To  Caunterbury  with  ful  devout  corage, 

At  night  was  come  unto  that  hostelrye 

Wei  nyne  and  twenty  in  a  companye, 


Of  sondry  folk,  by  aventure  y-falle 
In  fe'.awshipe,  and  pilgrims  were  they  alle, 
That  towards  Caunterbury  wolden  ryde; 
The  chambres  and  the  stables  weren  wyd«, 
And  wel  we  weren  es«d  atte  beste, 

he  semicolon  after  ryde  was  altered    to    a 
period. 

The  other  poems  examined  were  punctuated 
n  the  same  manner  and  made  uniform  with 
the  Prologue. 

Wherever  a  sentence  is  defective  in  form, 
that  is, without  a  predicate  as  in,  "  But  now  to 
purpose"  (Legend  of  Lucretia),  or  "Lo  here  a 
deed  of  man  and  that  a  right"  (Legend  of 
Philomela),  it  has  been  omitted  from  the  num- 
ber of  simple  sentences,  although  included  in 
the  calculations  in  other  respects.  Expres- 
sions like  thabsence  or  my  self  are  treated  in 
accordance  with  their  present  forms.  In  the 
case  of  hyphenated  words,  both  parts  of  the 
compound  are  counted  separately. 

In  presenting  the  results  shown  in,  these 
tables  as  in  any  way  significant,  I  am  presum- 
ing upon  two  facts  already  amply  demon- 
strated, the  constancy  of  sentence-lengths  in 
authors  (L.  A.  Sherman,  "Some  Observations 
upon  the  Sentence-Length  in  English  Prose," 
University  Studies,  published  by  the  Univer- 
sity of  Nebraska,  Vol.,  i,  No.  ii,  and  "On 
Certain  Facts  and  Principles  in  the  Develop- 
ment of  Form  in  Literature,"  Vol.  i,  No.  iv), 
and  the  constancy  of  predication  averages  in 
authors  (G.  W.  GerwSg,  "On  the  Decrease  of 
Predication  and  of  Sentence-Weight  in  Eng- 
lish Prose,"  University  Studies,  Vol.  ii,  No. 
i).  It  is  not  claimed  that  any  particular  de- 
ductions can  be  made  from  the  other  figures 
presented,  for  their  value  has  not  yet  been 
investigated.  They  are  included  only  for 
completeness  in  the  analysis  of  the  style  and 
sentence-structure  of  the  poems  examined. 

Investigations  in  Chaucer's  recognized  writ- 
ings show  the  following : 

PROLOGUE. 


Periods. 


Words. 


O.C 

S  JJ 

«J    * 


£  3 

§•    "1 

U  U 

First  loo  2193  242  31  18  167 
Second  100  1917  210  41  n  162 
Third  100  2333  298  20  29  156 


98 


197 


April,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


198 


c 

1 

ki 

LEGEND  OF  GOOD  WOMEN. 

.2 

u  8 

—  .2 

Periods. 

Words. 

1 

Is 

'5  o 

!'! 

•                                                        V)                      (A 

•5 

Crt  g 

|=_3 

c.S, 

£ 

• 

t/> 

O 

U 

o 
CJ 

Periods.                Words.          «           E|        1  1 

Last 

7 

193 

32 

o 

4 

8 

'•5         '(f>  g       «•£>     ,=  •=> 
JJ              w°o 

• 

1  '  •   ' 

^"~ 

— 

l'  " 

PH                                         0                U 

Total      307 

Average  ") 

6636 

782 

92 

62 

493 

First          loo       2583       307       22     '  46       165 

or         1 
per  cent    I 

21.61       2.54 

.029 

.020 

1.60 

Second      100       2279       298       17       40       144 

a  period,  j 

Third         100       2213       282       18       46       145 

KNIGHT 

's  TALE. 

Fourth       loo       2154       266       24       45       141 

I 

i 

j 

0° 

Fifth          loo       2133       274       25       32       132 

Periods. 

Words. 

3 

is 

g  o 

-25 

.-  a 

'C  o 

v  a 

Sixth          loo       2331        299       16       42       170 

1 

(fl  g 

C/3 

ss 
o 

S.3 
o 

Seventh     100       2332       293       19       43       153 

First 

IOO 

2345 

PH 
290 

32 

U 
32 

U 
175 

Eighth       loo       2388       297       28       44       170 

Second 

IOO 

2187 

283 

20 

38 

159 

Ninth         loo       2223       291        16       43       150 

Third 

IOO 

2518 

322 

15 

42 

162 

Last             35         696       104       ii        12         57 

Fourth 
Fifth 
Sixth 

IOO 
IOO 
IOO 

2325 
2348 
1756 

243 
274 
197 

32 
31 
46 

27 

35 
25 

148 
I67 
91 

Total         935     21332'     2711      196     393      1427 
Average              22.81     2.89    .020    .042      1.52 

Seventh 
Last 

IOO 

63 

2069 

1496 

229 

1  80 

29 

14 

25 

22 

133 

"3 

These  grouped  together  show  the  following 

averages  \ 

Total 

763 

17044 

2018 

219 

246 

1148 

Average 

22.31 

2.64 

.028 

.030 

1.50 

§         £*       13-1       o| 

DETH  OF  BLAUNCHE. 

Poems.               Words.        S          |  g        '.Be        6  a 

H        .55        =a       z  a 

• 

• 

IA 

=5        wg       ~-S>     £-ff 

3 

"° 

o 

k    O 

S                  "3                 0               0 

Periods. 

Words. 

•a 
3 

1| 

-1 
'a  3 

-    ° 

Prologue               21.61    2.54    .029    .020    1.60 

1 

PH 

^1 

o 
U 

C  -~-> 

o 

U 

Knight's  Tale       22.31    2.64    .028    .030    1.50 

First 

IOO 

2347 

323 

20 

40 

161 

Blaunche                2O>73    2>87    -°22    -O3°    *-3* 

Second 

IOO 

1924 

272 

29 

21 

135 

Parlement 

Third 

IOO 

1973 

263 

23 

36 

109 

of  Foules              22'47     2-77    .020    .031     i.io 

Fourth 
Last 

loo 

17 

2177 
223 

304 
35 

19 

2 

29 

2 

140 
8 

Legend  of 
Good  Women        22'8r    2'89    -O2°    -°42    1.52 

Total 

417 

8644 

1197 

93 

127 

553 

All  Chaucer           22.02    2.76    .024    .033    1.47 

Average 

20.73 

2.87 

.022 

.030 

1.32 

The  averages  for  the  prologues  between  the 

PARLEMENT 

OF   FOULES. 

different  Canterbury  Tales,  although  undoubt- 

. 

edly  Chaucer's  latest  work,  have  been  omit- 

1 

«  3 

a 

o 

8 

b  O 

ted.    They  consist  entirely  of  dialogue,  and 

Periods. 

Words. 

3 

"|g 

11 

O  '*j 

•53 

without  other   passages   to   balance,    would 

1 

"I 

c.3 
"""'c1 

•H-l? 

o 

hardly  afford  fair  examples  for  the  purpose  in 

PH 

U 

U 

view. 

First 

TOO 

2360 

270 

26 

31 

140 

The  group  of  works  generally  acknowledged 

Second 

IOO 

2208 

273 

19 

36 

118 

to  be  spurious,  treated  similarly,  show  the  fol- 

Last 

43 

883 

131 

6 

10 

50 

lowing.    In  examining  them  the  Aldine  text 

Total 
Average 

243 

5451 

22.47 

674 
2.77 

.020 

77 
.031 

308 

I.IO 

was  used,  since  a  text  of  them  edited  by  Skeat 
has  not  yet  been  published. 

199 


April,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


200 


FLOWER  AND  LEAF. 

Grouped  together,  these  show  the  following 

ui 

A 

sentence  averages  : 

1        JJ§       -s! 

c 
**  2 

«         « 

Periods.            Words. 

°C  t> 

" 

c                  -08 

^         wg        ~"3 
E              09              q 

i-i'S* 
o 

Poems.             Words.           S           "|g       |  g        'jj,| 

OH                                              U 

U 

•5         w  g      "'E1      iS'S" 

First     loo         365         594         9         58 

291 

«>      •              CO                O                O 

£                    u        u 

Last         6         151           22         o          3 

8 

Flower  and  Leaf  42.60    5.81     .008    .057    2.82 

—         —         —       —         — 

~" 

Cuckoo  and 

Total    106         516         616         9         61 
Average         42.60        5.81    .008      .057 

CUCKOO  AND  NIGHTINGALE. 

299 
2.82 

Nightingale           2™1    3-6i     -012    .043    2.12 

Complaint  of  a        , 
Lover's  Life        36.21    3.49    .019    .051     2.29 

«               .              8 

i 

Court  of  J^ove        24.73    3-o8    .019    .027    1.98 

o  «           _»• 

i-   0 

.2" 

Chaucer'  's  Dream  53.27    6.58    .004    .042    4.69 

Periods.           Words.          g                               ~  g 

^o            in  c            *5'i? 

S  g 

These    are    substantially    the    results    one 

P                 *                 U 

""*  0 

U 

would  look  for.     The  averages  vary  as  one 

91                 2488         329           ii           39 
Average    27,31       3.61        .012        .043 

193 
2.12 

would  expect  in  poems  coming  from  different 
authors.    What  is  to  be  noted  is  that  none 

COMPLAINT  OF  A  LOVER'S  LIFE. 

agree  with  the  averages  of  Chaucer,  the  dis- 
crepancies being  especially  marked  in  the  case 

t>  8*      —  2 

c 

of  predications  and  sentence-lengths.    Where 

•2  '§ 

Chaucer  shows  an  average  of  two  and  a  frac- 

Periods.         Words.                           |g       2  g 

V    c 

^•1 

tion  verbs  a  sentence,  these  Poems  show  three 

|          m&       ~J 

o 
U 

and  over.    The  Court  of  Love  comes  nearer 

First       ico       3569        330        22        46 

228 

than  any  of  the  others  to  the  sentence-length 

Last          40        1501        159         5        26 

92 

of  Chaucer,  but  shows  an  average  of  nearly 

—  -       —        —        — 



twenty-five  words  a  sentence,  which  Chaucer 

Total       140        5070       489        27        72 
Average            36.21      3.49    .018     .051 

321 
2.29 

does  not  reach.      The  fact  that    this    poem 
should  fall  so  low  even  as  24.73  is  to  be  ex- 

COURT OF  LOVE. 

plained  by  the  presence  in  it  of  more  than 

i     *i   4 

c 

l,   O 

the  usual  quantity  of  dialogue  or  broken  sen- 

Periods.               Words.            <«          eg       -jj  B 

'C  o 

v  E 

tences,    and,    especially,  by  the  fact  that  it  is 

probably,  as  proved  by  its  grammatical  forms, 

1!       w      /f 

PH                              «J 

1-1  o 
U 

the  product  of  later  than  the  fourteenth  cen- 

First          loo        2627        289      23        31 

199 

tury  (Lounsbury,  Studies  in  Chaucer,  Vol.  i.). 

Second      ico        2724        305      21        24 

234 

Now  to  see  with  which  of  these  two  groups 

Third         ico        2388        297      18        32 
Fourth       loo        2157        320      16        25 

188 
185 

belongs  the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose. 

Last             63        1556        218      ii        16 

114 

ROMAUNT  OF   THE   ROSE. 

Total         463      11452      1429      89      128 

920 

.                                    IA              M 

a,                 .          B           C 

c       v  8  «~  °    ^2 

Average               24.73     3-o8°     -°9     -O27 

1.98 

Periods.                      Words.     S 

CHAUCER'S  DREAM. 

g              CO         jl    "*.? 

»        .       i 

B 

P*                    U       O 

g         «,  8       -.2 

.5           ~  o           rt  *^ 

0-5 

First                         100    2351     304    22    32    184 

Periods.               Words.          g          g"g        2  § 

II 

Second                     100    2417    303    22    35    182 

K            &           J. 

1-1  o 

Third                       100    1747    J95    40    19    127 

First         ico       5033        657       3        40 
Second     100       5575       701       8       40 
Last           73        3935        44*        i        37 

U 

420 
484 

377 

Fourth                      loo    1890    234    29    35    130 
Fifth                         100    2219    263    18    47     119 
Sixth                        loo    2080    251    20    50    118 

Seventh                  ico    2169    308    15    37    159 

Total        273      14543      1799      12      117 
Average             53-27      6.58  .004     .042 

1281 
4.69 

Eighth                      100    2015    275    17    41     121 
Ninth                       zoo    2239    281    20    33    125 

100 


201 


April,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


202 


Periods. 


Tenth 

Eleventh 

Twelfth 

Thirteenth 

Fourteenth 

Fifteenth 

Sixteenth 

Seventeenth 

Eighteenth 

Nineteenth 

Twentieth 

Twenty-first 

Twenty-second 

Last 


Words. 


loo  1966 

loo  2137 

loo  2287 

loo  2198 

TOO  1847 

loo  2830 

loo  2667 

IOO  2126 

loo  2350 

loo  2050 

ioo  2289 

ioo  2465 

ioo  1920 

5  ioo 


o  *>  *>   r;  .2 

8  6  1   ••:  | 

1  *JTl 

P,  U 

298  19      21 

290  19    18 

279  22      23 

283  16    33 

258  19    27 

340  15    42 

354  ii    46 

299  17    37 
330  13    42 
278  29    43 
320  21     36 
324  17    41 

275  19    35 

13  i       2 


8.2 


CJ 

119 
129 
153 


218 

213 
154 
162 

138 
183 
197 
123 

7 


Total  2205  48359  6355  441  775  3305 

Averages  21.93  2.88.019.030  1.49 

This  brings  us  to  a  final  table  of  compari- 
son. 

Chaucer  and  the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose. 


Periods. 


Chaucer, 
2665  periods 
Romaunt, 
2205  periods 


Words. 


—  *•• 


22.02     2.76      .024      .033      1.47 


21.93     2. 


.020  .030  1.49 
The  figures  presented  in  this  last  table 
seem  significant.  The  average  sentence- 
length  for  Chaucer  is  22.02,  for  the  Romaunt 
of  the  Rose  21.93,  a  remarkably  close  corre- 
spondence. The  Romaunt  shows  2.88  predi- 
cations and  1.49  interior  conjunctions,  Chaucer 
2.76  predications  and  1.47  interior  conjunc- 
tions a  sentence.  The  agreement  is  the  same 
with  the  initial  conjunctions,  and  close  with 
the  simple  sentences,  where  the  correspond- 
ence, that  in  predications  and  sentence- 
length  excepted,  has  most  significance.  Not 
only  does  the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose  fail  to 
show  any  of  the  variation  from  Chaucer's  man- 
ner, demonstrated  in  the  other  poems  long  at- 
tributed to  him  but  now  rejected,  but  it  seems 
to  stand  on  the  same  literary  footing  as  those 


which  are  Chaucer's  beyond  dispute.  The 
use  of  some  other  text  of  Chaucer's  poems, 
or  the  adoption  of  some  other  system  of  punc- 
tuation might  make  changes  in  the  exact  fig- 
ures presented,  but  could  make  no  change  in 
the  relative  results. 

As  elsewhere  mentioned,  following  certain 
German  scholars,  Skeat  has  recently  modified 
his  sweeping  assertion  of  the  spuriousness  of 
the  translation  so  far  as  to  admit  that  a  small 
portion  at  the  beginning,  which  he  designates 
Fragment  A,  was  probably  the  work  of  Chau- 
cer. The  remainder  of  the  poem  he  divides 
into  two  other  fragments,  B  and  C,  which  he 
declares  not  of  Chaucerian  authorship,  and  by 
two  different  hands.  A  re-arrang^ig  of  the 
figures  given,  according  to  this  theory  shows  : 


Periods . 


Words. 


i§ 


Fragment  A, 

503  periods     21.22      2.59      .026      .033      1.47 

Fragment  B, 

1190  periods    22.22      2.93      .017      .034      1.46 

Fragment  C, 

537  periods      21.96      3.03      .019      .039      1.58 

Variation  is  shown,  but  no  more  than  nor- 
mal; no  more,  for  instance,  than  in  Chaucer's 
recognized  works.  One  has  only  to  compare 
these  sets  of  figures  with  those  in  the  group 
of  spurious  works,  really  the  works  of  differ- 
ent hands,  to  show  that  no  color  is  lent  to  the 
fragment  theory,  but  the  contrary.  It  may 
even  be  wondered  that  the  variation  is  not 
more,  for  the  translation  of  so  long  a  poem  as 
Le  Roman  de  la  Rose,  or  even  of  a  fraction  of 
it,  could  not  have  been  consecutive  work.  It 
must  have  extended  over  a  long  period  of 
Chaucer's  life,  and  before  its  completion  have 
seen  many  changes  of  mood  and  mannerisms 
that  would  naturally  affect  its  style. 

The  sentence-length  test  is  that  which  de- 
serves particular  stress.  It  has  been  shown 
by  Professor  Sherman  that  in  prose  Chaucer 
wrote  a  shorter  sentence  than  any  of  his  con- 
temporaries. The  same  seems  to  be  true  of 
his  poetry.  Skeat  has  said  that  Lydgate  is 
the  real  author  of  the  Complaint  of  a  Lover's 
Life,  which  shows  an  average  of  about  thirty- 


101 


203 


April,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


204 


six  words  a  sentence.     Five  hundred  periods 
of  Gower  show  an  average  of  thirty-two. 

Gower,  Confessio  Amantis,  Book  i. 
First      Hundred  Periods  Average  31.13 

Second         "  "  "         31.47 

Third  "  "  "         35.40 

Fourth         "  "  "         35.36 

Fifth  "  "  "  0.55 

Five  "  "  General  "         32.78 

The  sentence-length  test  verifies  and  would 
point,  even  were  no  other  proofs  at  hand,  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  five  works  classed  as 
spurious  could  not  be  Chaucer's.  The  same 
test  seems  to  point  just  as  plainly  to  the  Ro- 
maunt  of  the  Rose  as  Chaucer's.  Add  the 
correspondence  in  the  number  of  predications, 
simple  sentences,  and  conjunctions,  and  the 
matter  gains  increased  conclusiveness. 

To  make  the  demonstration  complete,  no- 
tice how  the  figures  of  the  French  original 
compare  with  those  of  the  translation.  Ofcourse 
if  the  English  version  were  a  literal,  word  for 
word,  line  for  line  rendering,  it  is  obvious 
enough  that  no  value  should  be  attached  to  its 
sentence-averages,  as  they  would  be  governed 
by  those  of  the  original.  But  it  is  well  known 
that  the  English  poem,  though  it  follows  the 
French  with  reasonable  closeness,  is  not  really 
a  translation  but  a  paraphrase.  In  many 
places  it  expands  the  idea  contained  in  the 
original  ;  in  many  places  it  condenses  or 
omits  it.  Sometimes  the  forms  of  expres- 
sion or  the  language  used,  owe  nothing  to  the 
French  save  bare  suggestion.  Again  there  is 
transposition  or  inversion.  One  would  not  ex- 
pect, then,  the  sentence-length  to  be  ruled 
by  that  of  the  original,  or  to  be  identical  with  it. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  not,  as  will  be  readily 
seen. 

Le  Roman  de  la  Rose,  Part  i.     Guillaume  de 

Lorris. 

First    Hundred  Periods 
Second        "  " 

Third          "  " 

Fourth         " 
Fifth  "  " 

Sixth  " 

Seventh      " 
Eighth        "  ';' 

Ninth 


Average  19.95 
"         21.05 
15-90 
17-34 

"  23.64 
18.42 
19.10 
18.71 
19.19 


Tenth  Hundred  Periods 
Eleventh     "  " 

Twelfth 
Remaining  34          " 


Total   1234 


Average  18.32 

19.94 

18.39 

7.81 


23,776  words 


19.26 


From  this  it  is  plain  that  the  sentence-length 
of  the  English  version  is  the  sentence-length 
of  the  translator,  not  of  Guillaume  de  Lorris. 
Hence  the  sentence-length  of  the  translator 
may  be  compared  justly  enough  with  Chau- 
cer's averages  or  with  the  averages  in  the  poems 
known  not  to  be  genuine.  This  was,  perhaps, 
evident  enough  already,  for,  as  said  elsewhere, 
the  translation  is  not  so  much  a  translation  as  a 
paraphrase,  closely  following  the  original  and 
equalling  it  in  literary  merit,  but  not  literally 
rendering  it.  Still,  additional  evidence  is  not 
to  be  disregarded.  As  was  to  be  expected, 
the  difference  of  the  English  from  the  French 
is  one  of  expansion. 

The  short  sentence-length  of  the  French  is 
to  be  noted,  Guillaume  de  Lorris  showing  two 
or  three  words  less  a  sentence  than  Chaucer, 
who  nevertheless  wrote  a  shorter  sentence 
than  any  Englishman  of  his  time.  It  is  to  be 
doubted  whether  the  French  ever  wrote  so 
ponderously  as  did  the  English  at  this  period. 
The  subject  yet  remains  to  be  investigated,  but 
if  De  Lorris  be  a  fair  example,  the  sentence- 
sense  in  French  literature  was  then  further  de- 
veloped than  it  was  in  English  for  some  cen- 
turies. 

In  conclusion,  it  would  seem  that  hence- 
forward it  is  for  those  who  pronounce  the  trans- 
lation spurious  to  prove  their  position,  not  for 
those  who  believe  it  genuine.  It  is  within  the 
bounds  of  possibility  that  some  one  else  may 
have  had  the  same  sentence  averages  as 
Chaucer;  but  such  a  supposition  is" far  from 
probable,  and  until  such  an  individual  is  pro- 
duced, the  results  presented  here  should  seem 
decisive.  It  is  remarkable  enough  that  there 
should  have  been  one  author  who  was  to  stand 
ahead  of  his  contemporaries  so  far  as  Chau- 
cer. That  there  should  have  been  two,  and 
that  the  name  of  the  second  should  not  have 
survived,  seems  more  than  we  should  be 
asked  to  believe. 


LOUISE  POUND. 


University  of  Nebraska* 


203 


April,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


206 


GOETHE   AND    DIDEROT    ON    AC- 
TOPS  AND    ACTING. 

THE  theatrical  career  of  Wilhelm  Meister  in 
Goethe's  novel  forms  such  a  prominent  fea- 
ture of  it,  and  occasions,  in  the  novel,  such 
well-marked,  characteristic  and  apparently 
original  remarks  on  the  art  of  the  actor  and 
of  acting,  that  one  is  naturally  induced  to 
ask  :  How  did  the  author  come  to  make  this 
feature  so  prominent  ? 

The  common  answer  to  this  question  is  that 
Goethe  had  not  only  given  much  attention  to 
dramatic  composition,  but  had  also  practically 
conducted  a  theater,  so  that  he  could  not  help 
taking  a  direct  and  vivid  interest  in  all  that 
pertained  to  the  theater,  and  especially  the  art 
of  acting  itself.  This  is  very  well, but  does  not, 
after  all,  account  for  the  very  peculiar  treat- 
ment this  matter  receives  in  the  novel.  For 
Wilhelm  Meister  is  not  an  actor,  though  he 
does  appear  a  few  times  on  the  stage  in  the 
quality  of  an  actor,  and  the  whole  of  his  ex- 
perience in  connection  with  the  theater 
amounts  really  only  to  a  forcible  disillusion. 
He  discovers  at  last  that  he  has  made  a  mis- 
take, that  nature  had  intended  him  for  other 
work,  and  that  his  experience  as  an  actor  was 
of  the  nature  of  a  disease  peculiar  to  child- 
hood, which  he  had  unwittingly  caught,  and 
through  which  he  had  luckily  passed  without 
permanent  injury. 

It  is  easy  to  see  that  Wilhelm,  as  long  as  he 
applied  himself  to  learning  and  exercising 
the  trade  of  an  actor,  appeared  as  a  striking 
representative  of  dilettantism.  R.  M.  Meyer, 
in  an  article  in  Euphorion  (October,  i885),calls 
him  the  "  born  dilettante." 

This  may  be  going  too  far.  Wilhelm  is  no 
more  a  natural  dilettante  than  Goethe  him- 
self. 

The  poet,  in  a  well-known  epigram,  makes 
fun  of  himself  for  having  dabbled  in  many 
arts,  while  approaching  mastery  only  in  one, 
that  is,  in  the  art  of  writing  German.  The 
evident  significance  of  Wilhelm's  career,  in 
the  Lehrjahre,  consists  rather  in  this,  that  his 
early  education  had  been  a  mistake ;  that  he 
had  been  allowed  to  follow  solely  the  impulses 
of  his  heart,  instead  of  being  trained  to  over- 
come impulse  by  a  systematic  cultivation  of 


his  reasoning  faculties.  Wilhelm  was  what 
the  French  call  sensible,  a  word  which  gener- 
ally, though  not  always,  corresponds  to  the 
English  'emotional.'  His  sensibility  shows  it- 
self early,  not  only  in  his  love  for  Marianna, 
but  in  his  partiality  for  the  picture  of  the  sick 
prince;  later  in  the  deep  sympathy  he  feels 
for  the  unhappy  couple  of  lovers  (Book  i.Chap. 
13),  and  throughout  his  relations  to  his  friend 
Werner,  whenever  the  latter's  matter-of-fact 
view  of  looking  at  things  arouses  Wilhelm's 
opposition. 

It  appears  in  the  sequel,  and  in  a  higher  de- 
gree,when  he  centers  his  affection  on  poor  Mig- 
non  and  the  old  Minstrel ;  when  he  becomes 
the  confidant  of  Aurelia  ;  when  he  so  readily 
offers  to  help  Lothario  who  has  won  his  friend- 
ship and  admiration,  by  taking  upon  himself 
the  peculiar  errand  that  leads  to  his  making 
the  acquaintance  of  Theresa  who  is  in  every 
essential  his  exact  opposite,  and  especially 
in  her  freedom  from  sensibility  and  whom  he 
nevertheless  offers  to  marry,  believing  that 
the  unknown  stranger  who  had  won  his  heart 
is  beyond  his  reach. 

But,  while  all  this  happens,  he  is  still  a  very 
young  man.  There  is  no  reason  to  believe 
that  a  young  man  so  well  endowed  will  con- 
tinue forever  in  this  blundering  manner  of 
life.  His  mistakes  teach  him  important  les- 
sons, and  he  is  an  apt  scholar.  Therefore, 
while  he  is  a  dilettante,  he  is  a  dilettante  only 
from  lack  of  proper  training.  As  soon  as  he 
has  had  this  training,  he  sees  the  errors  into 
which  his  impulses  and  emotional  nature  have 
'led  him  ;  he  finds  that  his  real  vocation  is  that 
of  a  surgeon,  and  with  this  discovery  the  es- 
sential part  of  the  story  has  reached  its  legiti- 
mate end. 

To  return  now  to  our  question,  if  we  re- 
member the  emotional  nature  of  the.  hero  of 
the  novel,  we  may  discover  both  in  this  char- 
acter and  in  the  remarks  on  actors  and  acting 
that  occur  in  the  story,  the  influence  of  an  au- 
thor whom  Goethe  prized  highly  :  Diderot. 

I  have  not  been  able  to  find  in  Goethe's 
published  works  a  distinct  recognition  of  his 
having  read  Diderot's  Paradoxe  sur  le  conie- 
dien,  but  when  we  bear  in  mind  that  the  poet 
was  supplied  by  Grimm,  the  friend  of  Di- 
derot, with  all  the  novelties  in  literature  as 


103 


207 


April,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


208 


soon  as  they  appeared  in  Paris,  Grimm  being 
the  special  literary  correspondent  of  the  court 
of  Gotha  and  thus  on  a  familiar  footing  also 
with  Weimar  ;  that  Goethe  visited  Grimm  re- 
peatedly and  met  him  often  in  Weimar,  we 
can  scarcely  doubt  that  the  '  Schauspieldirec- 
tor  '  Goethe  was  acquainted  with  a  treatise 
that  could  not  fail  to  attract  his  special  atten- 
tion. 

An  «xample  of  the  eagerness  with  which 
Grimm  served  his  friends  is  found,  for  instance, 
in  the  fact  that  he  furnished  Goethe  a  copy  of 
the  manuscript  of  Voltaire's  notorious  libel  on 
Frederick  the  Great  long  before  it  appeared 
in  print.  He,  probably,  also  procured  him 
the  manuscript  of  Diderot's  Neveu  de  Ra- 
meau,  which  was  long  thought  to  be  the  only 
one  existing.  We  may  further  recall  the  cir- 
cumstance that  throughout  his  long  life  Goe- 
the continued  to  be  deeply  interested  in  Di- 
derot, from  the  time  when  as  a  student  seven- 
teen years  old  he  played  at  Leipzig  a  part  in 
Diderot's  Hausvater,  translated  by  Lessing, 
to  the  time  when  in  old  age  he  wrote  to  his 
friend  Zelter : 

"Diderot  is  Diderot,  a  unique  individual ;  he 
who  finds  fault  \inakelt  an\  with  his  writings 
is  a  Philistine,  and  of  them  there  are  legions. 
For  men  do  not  know  how  to  receive  grate- 
fully what  is  above  prize,  either  from  God,  or 
from  Nature,  or  their  fellowmen."  (Cf.  Rie- 
mer,  Briefwechsel  zwischen  Goethe  nnd  Zel- 
ter, vi,  161.) 

We  may  also  recall  here  his  translation  of 
Diderot's  essay  on  Painting  (see  G.  W.  Hem- 
pel's  edition,  xxviii,  pp.  47-102),  and  the  fre- 
quent mention  he  makes  of  the  French  au- 
thor in  various  parts  of  his  works. 

It  would  be  strange  if  with  such  opportuni- 
ties, and  with  such  a  profound  interest  in  the 
man,  Goethe  should  have  failed  to  be  at- 
tracted by  one  of  Diderot's  most  character- 
istic productions,  which  by  its  content  and 
treatment  appealed  so  strongly  to  him  in 
his  efforts  to  advance  the  interests  of  the 
stage,  and  the  proper  cultivation  of  actors. 

If  a  doubt  still  exists  it  will,  I  think,  disap- 
pear if  we  subject  those  portions  of  Wilhelm 
Meister' s  Lehrjahre  which  refer  to  acting  and 
actors,  to  a  careful  comparison  with  Diderot's 
treatise. 

Diderot   entitled  his  treatise  a   Paradoxc* 


The  paradox  consists  in  the  proposition  that 
an  actor  in  so  far  as  he  is  emotional,  that  is, 
sensible,  cannot  be  a  good  actor ;  and  that  the 
best  actor  is  one  who  is  entirely  free  from 
sensibilite.  This  is  his  thesis,  and  he  works 
it  out  with  great  skill  and  persistency.  Whether 
or  not  Goethe  may  have  caught  here  the  idea 
of  representing  this  thesis  in  an  artistic  form 
in  the  character  of  Wilhelm  Meister,  it  would 
be  difficult  to  determine,  in  the  absence  of  a 
positive  statement  to  this  effect  on  the  part  of 
of  the  poet.  But  that  his  representation  vir- 
tually amounts  to  this  can  scarcely  be 
doubted. 

The  influence  of  Diderot  upon  Goethe 
which  I  shall  discuss  is  specific,  and  limited 
strictly  to  the  question  of  what  constitutes  a 
good  actor.  I  recognize  fully  that  in  Goethe's 
plan  of  the  work  Wilhelm's  false  tendency 
might  easily  have  been  represented  in  another 
form;  that  what  he  says  of  Wilhelm's  error 
would  apply  as  well  to  any  other  error;  for  in- 
stance, that  of  a  born  actor  who  should  be 
tempted  to  try  a  military  or  a  legal  career. 
The  radical  and  fundamental  error  of  Wilhelm 
is  not  that  he  turns  an  actor,  but  that  he  fol- 
lows impulse,  allows  an  accident  to  determine 
his  course  of  action,  and  is  always  ready  to 
waste  his  time  when  his  feelings  become  ex- 
cited. He  thus  represents  human  nature,  for 
we  are  all  made  that  way,  and  we  all  have 
made,  or  are  making,  mistakes  more  or  less 
resembling  those  of  Wilhelm.  But  Wilhelm 
is  a  concrete  individual,  not  a  type,  or  an  ab- 
straction. Therefore  he  is  made  to  follow  a 
definite  career,  to  make  mistakes  due  to  defi- 
nite circumstances,  and  to  proceed,  while  true 
to  his  character,  in  a  line  specifically  his  own 
and  distinctly  adapted  to  him. 

In  other  words  :  Wilhelm  is  an  artistic  crea- 
tion of  one  of  the  greatest  masters  in  litera- 
ture, and  the  originality  of  this  creation  could 
not  be  questioned,  even  if  it  should  appear 
that  some  of  the  views  brought  out  in  the  pro- 
gress of  it  had  been  held  by  another,  and  are 
therefore  not  entirely  original.  In  writing 
Wilhelm  Meister,  Goethe's  intention  was  not 
to  communicate  to  the  world  his  thoughts  on 
actors  and  acting,  but  to  use  the  career  and 
qualifications  of  an  actor  as  a  means  to  illus- 
trate a  fundamental  truth  in  a  life-like  and 


104 


209 


April,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


artistic  form. 

The  key-note  of  the  whole  work  is  found,  I 
think,  in  the  remarks  of  the  Stranger  in  Book 
i,  Chap.  17.  The  stranger  had  referred  to  the 
fine  picture  gallery  of  Wilhelm's  grandfather 
which  Wilhelm  was  too  young  to  appreciate 
when  it  was  sold.  But  he  still  remembered  a 
rather  inferior  picture  on  account  of  what 
it  represented.  Hereupon  the  stranger  re- 
marked : 

"These  feelings  are  of  course  widely  remote 
from  those  considerations  which  affect  a  lover 
of  art  when  he  inspects  the  works  of  great 
masters.  Very  likely,  however,  if  the  collec- 
tion had  remained  in  your  house,  there  would 
have  dawned  in  you,  by  degrees,  the  appreci- 
ation \der  Simi\  of  the  works  themselves,  so 
that  you  would  not  have  always  seen  in  the 
works  of  art  only  yourself  and  your  inclina- 
tion." 

"'Certainly,  I  was  very  sorry  on  account 
of  the  sale  of  the  pictures  at  the  very  time, 
and  I  have  also  missed  them  much  in  more 
mature  years.  But  when  I  consider  that  it 
had  to  be  so,  as  it  were,  in  order  that  there 
might  be  developed  in  me  a  fancy  [Liebha- 
berei]  or  a  talent  which  was  destined  to  affect 
my  life  very  much  more  than  those  lifeless 
pictures  could  have  done,  I  willingly  resign 
myself  and  reverently  bow  to  fate  which 
knows  how  to  bring  about  what  is  best  for  me 
and  best  for  every  one.'  " 

"  I  regret  to  hear  the  word  fate  used  for  the 
second  time  by  a  young  man  who  is  just  at  an 
age  when  one  is  accustomed  to  look  upon 
one's  own  lively  inclinations  as  the  will  of 
higher  beings." 

"'Then  you  don't  believe  in  fate?  in  a 
power  which  rules  over  us  and  directs  every- 
thing for  the  best  ? '  " 

"  The  question  here  is  not  about  my  belief, 
nor  is  this  the  place  to  interpret  how  I  try  to 
make  to  some  extent  thinkable  for  niyself 
things  which  are  incomprehensible  to  us  all : 
the  question  here  is  solely,  which  way  of  look- 
ing at  things  is  to  pur  best  interest.  The 
tissue  of  this  world  is  fashioned  of  necessity 
and  chance ;  the  reason  of  man  steps  between 
the  two  and  knows  how  to  govern  them ;  it 
treats  the  necessary  as  the  foundation  of  its 
existence ;  it  knows  how  to  direct,  to  guide 
and  to  use  the  accidental,  and  only  if  it  stands 
firm  and  immovable  does  man  deserve  to  be 
called  a  god  of  the  earth.  Woe  to  him  who 
has  accustomed  himself  from  his  youth  to 
wish  to  find  something  arbitrary  in  the  neces- 
sary, who  would  like  to  attribute  to  the  acci- 
dental a  kind  of  reason  which  it  were  a  sort  of 
religion  to  obey.  Is  this  anything  else  than  to 
renounce  one's  own  intellect  and  to  give 
absolute  control  to  one's  inclination?  We 


imagine  that  we  are  leading  a  pious  life  when 
we  saunter  along  without  reflexion,  allow  our- 
selves to  be  determined  by  an  agreeable 
chance,  and,  finally,  give  to  the  result  of  such 
an  unsteady  life  the  name  of  a  divine  guid- 
ance." 

The  passage  confirms  what  could  scarcely 
be  doubted  anyhow;  namely,  that  Goethe  pre- 
sents in  Wilhelm  Meister  a  young  man  whose 
character  falls  under  the  category  of  what  the 
French  call  cceurs  sensibles. 

But  the  profound  idea  of  Goethe  in  present- 
ing such  a  character  is  still  more  clearly  shown 
in  the  following  passage  which,  though  well 
known,  it  will  be  useful  to  consider  in  this 
connection. 

"  Let  no  one  believe  that  he  is  able  to  over- 
come the  first  impressions  of  his  youth.  If 
he  has  grown  up  in  a  laudable  freedom,  sur- 
rounded by  beautiful  and  noble  objects,  in 
intercourse  with  good  men ;  if  his  teachers 
taught  him  what  he  should  know  first,  in 
order  to  comprehend  the  more  easily  the  rest; 
if  he  has  learned  what  he  never  needs  to 
unlearn  ;  if  his  first  acts  were  so  guided  that 
he  can,  in  the  future,  perform  the  good  more 
easily  and  more  comfortably  without  being 
compelled  to  disaccustom  himself  from  any- 
thing :  such  a  man  will  lead  a  purer,  more 
perfect  and  a  happier  life  than  another  who 
has  used  up  his  original  youthful  energy  in 
resistance  and  error.  So  much  is  said  and 
written  about  education,  but  I  see  few  people 
who  are  able  to  comprehend  this  simple,  but 
grand  idea,  and  to  put  it  into  execution." 
(Book  ii,  Chap.  9.) 

In  a  conversation  with  his  friend  Werner 
Wilhelm  expresses  himself  in  a  manner  which 
must  almost  make  us  believe  that  he  knows 
his  own  weakness  much  better  than  anyone 
else.  He  is  destroying  his  youthful  poems 
and  other  writings,  and  says  to  Werner : 

"  I  furnish  a  proof  that  I  am  in  earnest  about 
giving  up  a  business  for  which  I  was  not  born." 
"  '  But  why  should  these  efforts  be  destroyed, 
even  if  they  are  not  excellent  ?  "  "  Because, 
a  poem  should  be  excellent,  or  it  must  not 
exist,  for  every  one  ought  to  take  serious  care 
to  refrain  from  an  art  for  which  he  has  no 
talent,  and  to  guard  against  any  temptation  to 
practise  that  art." 

He  adds  to  this  the  striking  remark  that  there 
is  in  every  one  an  indefinite  desire  to  imitate 
what  he  sees  others  do,  be  it  the  skill  of  the 
circus  rider,  or  that  of  the  virtuoso  on  an  in- 
strument. "Happy  he  who  soon  perceives 


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the  sophistry  of  an  inference  as  to  his  capaci- 
ties drawn  from  his  desires." 

But,  though  he  sees  the  general  truth  of  his 
remark,  he  fails  to  make  the  proper  applica- 
tion. The  early  puppetshow,  his  love  for  the 
actress  Marianne,  and  a  natural  delight  in 
dramatic  representations,  have  aroused  and 
fostered  in  him  the  belief  that  his  vocation  is 
the  stage.  His  heart  warms  to  the  idea  of 
being  a  benefactor  to  his  people  by  presenting 
to  them  in  an  impressive  manner  the  great 
productions  of  dramatic  genius. 

But  it  is  precisely  this  warmth  of  his  heart 
in  the  presence  of  the  art  that  makes  all  his 
attempts  at  true  success  in  that  art  nugatory. 
As  if  to  show  us  with  absolute  distinctness 
that  this  is  his  conception  of  this  character, 
Goethe  puts  Wilhelm  in  contrast  with  Serlo, 
the  born  actor,  the  man  whose  heart  is  cold, 
who  has  no  trace  of  sensibility,  but  who  ob- 
serves, imitates,  and  succeeds. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  Diderot's  Paradoxe 
(CEuvres  choisies  de  Diderot.  Firmin-Didot 
freres.  Paris,  1874.  Tome  i).  The  italics  are 
mine. 

"  Le  point  important  sur  lequel  nous  avons 
des  opinions  tout-a-fait  oppose>s,  votre  au- 
teur  et  moi,  ce  sont  les  qualites  premieres  j 
(fun  grand  comtdien.  Moi.jelui  veux  beau- 
coup  fejugement;  \\  me  faut  dans  cet  homme 
««  spectateur  froid  et  tranquille  ;  j'en  exige, 
par  consequent,  de  la  penetration  et  nulle 
sensibilite,  Vart  de  tout  writer,  ou,  ce  qui 
revient  au  m6me,  une  egale  aptitude  a  toutes 
sortes  de  caracftres  et  de  rdles."  (1.  c.  p.  217.) 

As  for 'judgment '  and  'penetration,'  Aurelia 
informs  Wilhelm  (Book  iv,  Chap.  16): 

"  I  have  hardly  ever  seen  any  one  who  knows 
so  little  the  men  with  whom  he  lives,  who  so 
throughly  misjudges  them  as  you.  Allow  me 
to  say  what  I  think  of  you.  When  one  hears 
you  explain  Shakespeare,  one  believes  you 
have  just  come  from  the  council  of  the  gods, 
and  that  you  have  heard  them  discuss  the 
problem  of  forming  men  ;  but  when  you  asso- 
ciate with  people,  I  see  in  you,  so  to  speak, 
the  very  first  born  adult  child  of  creation  that, 
with  peculiar  wonder  and  an  edifying  good 
nature,  looks  amazed  at  lions  and  apes,  sheep 
and  elephants,  and  addresses  them  in  simple 
faith  as  though  they  were  of  his  own  species 
just  because  they  too  exist  and  move  about." 

The  contrast  between  Wilhelm  and  Serlo  is 
so  striking,  Serlo  answers  so  closely  to  Dide- 
rot's definition  of  a  great  actor,  while  the  case 


of  Wilhelm  forcibly  illustrates  the  other  side 
of  Diderot's  view  ;  namely,  that  a  great  actor 
must  have  nulle  sensibilite, \t\a\.  we  may  not  un- 
reasonably conclude  that  the  artistic  creation 
of  Goethe  exactly  corresponds  to  the  abstract 
conception  of  Diderot. 

That  Wilhelm  failed  to  impress  his  audience 
favorably  in  the  long  run  is  repeatedly  inti- 
mated or  distinctly  stated.  In  Book  iii,  Chap. 
8,  Wilhelm  appears  greatly  vexed  that  his 
persistent  efforts  did  not  meet  with  the  ap- 
plause he  most  desired.  At  first  the  prince 
had  staid  out  the  performances,  but  he  soon 
withdrew  at  the  first  opportunity.  It  was 
similarly  so  with  the  more  intelligent  portion 
of  the  other  spectators.  And  yet,  we  are  told, 
"Wilhelm  memorized  his  parts  diligently  and 
presented  them  with  warmth  and  vivacity." 
This  "warmth  and  vivacity"  forms  a  clear 
contrast  to  Diderot's  froid  et  tranquille. 

The  first  impression  of  Serlo's  acting  (Book 
iv,  Chap.  15),  is  conveyed  in  the  following 
language  : 

"  One  soon  felt  that  Serlo  was  the  soul  of  the 
whole,  and  he  distinguished  himself  very  much 
to  his  advantage.  A  serene  good  humor,  a 
tempered  vivacity,  an  assured  feeling  of  pro- 
priety together  with  a  great  talent  of  imitation, 
one  could  not  help  admiring  as  soon  as  he 
stepped  on  the  stage,  as  soon  as  he  opened 
his  mouth.  .  .  .  The  inward  feeling  of  com- 
fortable existence  [Die  innere  Behaglichkeit 
seines  Daseins]  seemed  to  spread  over  all  his 
hearers,  and  the  ingenious  manner  \geistreiche 
Arf\  with  which  he  expressed  easily  and  pleas- 
ingly the  most  delicate  shades  of  his  parts, 
produced  so  much  the  more  enjoyment  as  he 
knew  how  to  hide  the  art  which  he  had  ac- 
quired by  persistent  practice." 

Diderot,  after  speaking  of  actors  who  "  play 
themselves,"  which  explains  their  inequality 
\Tinegalite  des  acteurs  qui  jouent  d 'rfmg],  says 
of  the  true  actor  (/.  c.  p.  218): 

"Le  come'dien  qui  jouera  de  reflexion,  d'e*tude 
de  la  nature  humaine,  d'imitation  constante 
d'apres  quelque  modele  d'ide"al,  d'imagina- 
tion,  de  m^moire,  sera  un,  le  m6me  £  toutes 
les  representations,  toujours  e"galement  par- 
fait :  tout  a  e"te"  mesure",  combing,  appris,  or- 
donne"  dans  sa  t£te  ;  .  .  .  s'il  y  a  quelque  dif- 
ference d'une  representation  £  1'autre,  c'est 
ordinairement  £  1'avantage  de  la  derniere.  .  . 
Ainsi  que  le  po£te  il  va  sans  cesse  puiser  dans 
le  fonds  ine"puisable  de  la  nature  ;  au  lieu  qu'il 
aurait  bientot  vu  le  tertne  de  sa  propre  ri- 
cfiesse." 


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214 


And,  as  if  to  give  us  the  prototype  of  Serlo 
(or  of  his  sister  Aurelia),  Diderot  says  ; 

"  Quel  jeu  plus  parfait  que  celui  de  la  Clairon  ? 
cependant  suivez-la,  e'tudiez-la,  et  vous  yerrez 
qu'a  la  sixieme  representation  elle  sail  par 
cceur  tons  Us  details  de  son  jeu  comme  tous 
les  mots  de  son  r61e.  Sans  doute  elle  s'est 
fait  un  modele.  .  .  Quand,  &  force  de  travail, 
elle  a  approche'  de  cette  id^e  de  plus  pres 
qu'elle  a  pu,  tout  est  fini ;  se  tenir  ferme  la, 
c'est  une  pure  affaire  d'exercice  et  de  me'- 
moire."  (/.  c.,  p.  218.) 

We  learn  more  about  Serlo  in  Chap.  18  of 
Book  iv,  how  he  improved  by  repetition,  by 
imitation  of  models  which  he  soon  excelled, 
by  perfect  self-control,  appearing  to  be  carried 
away,  while  all  the  time  watching  the  effect  of 
his  play. 

"Durch  eine  seltsam  scheinende,  aber  ganz 
natiirliche  Wirkung  und  Gegenwirkung  stieg 
durch  Einsicht  und  (jbung  seine  Rezitation, 
Deklamation  und  sein  Gebardenspiel  zu  einer 
hohen  Stufe  von  Wahrheit,  Freiheit  und  Of- 
fenheit,  indem  er  im  Leben  und  Umgang 
immer  heimlicher,  kunstlicher,  ja  verstellt  und 
angstlich  zu  werden  schien." 

This  is  exactly  what  Diderot  means.  He 
does  not  weary  to  point  out  the  difference  be- 
tween a  person's  natural  tones  and  gestures 
when  he  acts  under  an  impulse,  and  the  artistic 
representation  of  the  same  by  an  artist  who 
feels  nothing,  but  imitates  carefully,  and  suc- 
ceeds, by  dint  of  close  study  and  long  practice, 
to  realize  his  idea. 

"  Mais  quoi !  dira-t-on,  ces  accents  si  plaintifs, 
si  douloureux,  que  cette  mere  arrache  du  fond 
de  ses  entrailles,  et  dont  les  miennes  sont  si 
violemment  secoue'es,  ce  n'est  pas  le  sentiment 
actuel  qui  les  produit,  ce  n'est  pas  le  d^sespoir 
qui  les  inspire?  Nullement ;  et  la  preuve, 
c'est  qu'ils  sont  mesures  ;  qu'ils  font  partie 
d'un  systeme  de  declamation;  que,  plus  bas 
ou  plus  aigus  de  la  vingtitme  partie  cTun 

fuart  de  ton,  Us  sont  faux  ;  qu'ils  sont  soumis 
une  loi  d'unit<§;  qu'ils  sont,  comme  dans 
I'harmonie,  pr£pare"s  et  sauveV,  qu'ils  ne  satis- 
font  a  toutes  les  conditions  requises  que  par 
une  longue  £tude ;  qu'ils  concourent  a  la 
solution  d'un  probleme  propose1;  que,  pour 
e"tre  pousse"s  justes,  ils  out  etc"  re'pe'te's  cent  fois, 
et  que,  malgre  ces  frequentes  repetitions,  on 
les  manque  encore.  C'est  qu'avant  de  dire, 
Zaire,  vous  pleurez !  ou,  Vous  y  serez  ma 
fille,  1'acteur  s'est  longtemps  £coute"  lui-m£me; 
c'est  qu'il  s'e"coute  au  moment  ou  il  vous  trou- 
ble, et  que  tout  son  talent  consiste  non  pas  d 
sentir,  comme  vous  le  supposez,  mats  a  ren- 
dre  si  scrupuleusement  les  signes  exterieurs 


du  sentiment,  que  vous  vous  y  trompiez.  Les 
cris  de  sa  douleur  sont  notes  dans  son  oreille. 
Les  gestes  de  son  de"sespoir  sont  de  memoire, 
et  ont  e"te"  pre'pare's  devant  une  glace.  II  sail 
le  moment  pre'cis  ou  il  tirera  son  mouchoir  et 
ou  les  larmes  couleront ;  attendez  les  a  ce 
mot,  a  cette  syllabe,  ni  plus  tot  ni  plus  tard. 
Ce  tremblement  de  la  voix,  ces  mots  suspen- 
dus,  ces  sons  e'touffe's  ou  tratne's,  ce  fre'misse- 
mentdes  membres,  ce  vacillement  des  genoux, 
ces  eVanouissements,  ces  fureurs,  pure  imita- 
tion, lecon  recorded  d'avance,  grimace  pathe"- 
tique,  singerie  sublime  etc.,  etc."  (/.  c.  p.  221- 
222.) 

The  Horation  rule  Si  vis  me  Jtere  etc.  (Ep.  ad. 
Pisones,  ll.ioasq.)1  is  thus  reversed  by  Diderot. 
Goethe,  by  opposing  a  real  actor  like  Serlo  to 
a  dilettante  like  Wilhelm,  expresses  the  same 
idea,  enforces  the  same  truth  as  Diderot. 

The  difference  between  the  real  character  of 
Serlo  and  the  character  he  assumed  in  his 
play  is  strongly  emphasized  by  Goethe ;  but 
Diderot  is  much  more  emphatic  in  presenting 
the  same  idea.  He  introduces  an  actor  and 
an  actress,  who  are  actually  husband  and  wife, 
as  they  play  the  third  scene  of  the  fourth  act 
of  Moliere's  Depit  amoureux.  They  act  and 
play  Moliere  perfectly,  but  at  the  same  time 
keep  up  a  private  conversation,  the  one  speak- 
ing in  an  under  tone  while  the  other  recites 
Moliere's  verses ;  the  husband  calling  his  wife 
insulting  names,  and  the  wife  replying  corre- 
spondingly. On  leaving  the  stage  the  lover, 
as  actor,  escorts  his  mistress,  but  the  husband 
presses  his  wife's  arm  with  such  violence  as  to 
wrench  off  part  of  her  skin.  (/.  c.,  227-229.) 

The  trouble  with  Wilhelm  was  that  he  felt 
what  he  said  on  the  stage  ;  his  was  not  merely 
an  objective  study  based  on  observation  and 
imitation,  but  he  put  his  soul  into  his  play,  he 
played  himself.  When  playing  Hamlet,  the 
first  representation  had  proved  a  success,  but 
when  the  play  was  repeated  it  does  not  seem 
as  though  Wilhelm's  acting  was  particularly 
noticed.  He  had  the  mortification  of  over- 
hearing a  conversation  in  which  one  of  the 
speakers  confounded  him  with  Laertes,  prais- 
ing Laertes,  while  finding  fault  with  the  actor 
who  played  the  part  assigned  to  Wilhelm. 
(Book  v,  Ch.  15.)  His  success  in  the  part  of 
Hamlet  was  due  to  the  circumstance  that  it 
fitted  his  own  character ;  there  was  no  urgent 

i  That  is,  if  Horace  meant  real  feeling  by  his  doltndvm 
estprintum  ipsitibi,  which  is  by  no  means  certain. 


107 


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216 


necessity  of  denying  this  character.  But  his 
diminishing  success  at  the  repetitions  of  the 
same  play  makes  us  think  of  the  following 
remark  of  Diderot  (/.  c.,  p.  217); 

"Si  le  come'dien  e"tait  sensible,  de  bonne  foi 
lui  serait-  il  permis  de  jouer  deux  jois  at?  suite 
un  meme  rdle  avec  la  meme  chaleur  et  le 
memesuccts?  Tr£s-chaud  a  la  premiere  re- 
pre"sentation,  il  serait  epuise  etfroid  comme  un 
marbre  a  la  troisieme.  Au  lieu  qu'  imitateur 
aitentif  et  disciple  reflichi  de  la  nature,  la 
premiere  fois  qu'il  se  pr£sentera  sur  la  sc£ne 
sous  le  nom  d'Auguste,  de  Cinna,  d'Orosmane, 
d'Agamemnon,  de  Mahomet,  copiste  rigour- 
eux  de  lui-meme  ou  de  ses  etudes,  et  observa- 
teur  continu  de  nos  sensations,  son  jeu,  loin  de 
s'affaiblir,  se  fortifiera  des  reflexions  nouvelles 
qu'il  aura  recueiLies  ;  il  a'exaln-iu.  uu  se 
tempe'rera,  et  vous  en  serez  de  plus  en  plus 
satisfait.  S'il  est  lui  quand  il  joue,  comment 
cessera-t-il  d'etre  lui?  S'il  veut  cesser  d'etre 
lui,  comment  saisira-t-il  le  point  juste  auquel 
il  faut  qu'il  se  place  et  s'arr£te  ?  " 

It  is  evident  that  in  this  remark  the  characters 
of  Wilhelm  and  Serlo  are  clearly  foreshadowed 
in  all  that  regards  their  theatrical  career  and 
success. 

The  identity  of  the  views  of  Diderot  and 
Goethe  on  this  subject  appears  more  clearly 
still  from  some  remarks  put  in  the  mouth  of 
Jarno.  In  Book  vii,  Chap.  3,  Wilhelm  gives 
Jarno  his  opinion  of  the  players  he  has  met. 
The  description  is  not  flattering,  for  the 
speaker  is  full  of  indignation.  Jarno  interrupts 
him  with  immoderate  laughter: 

"  The  poor  players  !  he  says  at  last.  Do  you 
know,  my  friend,  that  you  have  described,  not 
the  people  of  the  stage,  but  the  world  ? — Par- 
don me,  I  must  laugh,  if  you  believe  that 
these  fine  qualities  are  limited  to  the  theater. 
.  .  Indeed,  I  pardon  in  the  actor  every  fault 
that  results  from  self-deception  and  the  desire 
to  please,  for  if  he  does  not  seem  to  be  some- 
thing to  himself  and  others,  he  is  nothing. 
His  vocation  is  to  seem  ; — he  must  try  to  shine, 
for.that  is  his  business.  All  the  faults  of  the 
man  I  pardon  in  the  actor ;  no  faults  of  the 
actor  I  pardon  in  the  man." 

Goethe's  language  differs  from  that  of  Diderot, 
but  his  idea  is  the  same  as  Diderot's. 

On  his  return  to  Serlo  (Book  vii,  Chap.  8), 
Wilhelm  finds  that  his  r61es  had  meanwhile 
been  taken  by  Laertes  and  Horatio:  "both  won 
from  the  spectators  a  far  more  vivid  applause 
than  he  had  ever  been  able  to  obtain."  We 
ask  why?  Was  not  Wilhelm's  nature  far  more 


poetical  than  that  of  either  of  the  others? 
Had  he  not  entered  with  far  more  love  and 
devotion  into  the  spirit  of  the  author? 
Was  he  not  graceful  in  his  person,  well-formed, 
preposessing?  Had  he  not  always  carefully 
committed  his  part,  and  spoken  it  on  the  stage 
'  with  warmth  and  feeling  ? ' 

In  Book  vii,  Chap.  5,  Jarno  expresses  him- 
self still  more  forcibly.  Wilhelm  had  said  : 

"Pardon  me, you  have  severely  enough  denied 
me  every  capacity  as  an  actor.  I  confess  to 
you  that,  although  I  have  completely  re- 
nounced this  art,  I  cannot  possibly  admit  such 
an  utter  incapacity  in  my  case."  "And  in  my 
mind,  there  is  absolutely  no  possibility  of  a 
doubt  that  he  who  can  play  only  himself  is  no 
actor.  He  who  cannot,  both  as  to  meaning 
and  to  form  change  himself  into  many  per- 
sonalities, does  not  merit  this  name." 

He  admits  that  Wilhelm  played  Hamlet  and  a 
few  other  parts  quite  well, 

"being  favored  by  his  natural  character, 
form  and  momentary  mood.  This  would  be 
good  enough  for  an  amateur  theater  and  for 
any  one  who  could  see  no  other  way  before 
himself." 

As  Goethe  in  Serlo,  so  Diderot  gives  us  in 
Garrick  a  sample  of  an  ideal  actor : 

"  Garrick  passe  sat6te  entre  les  deux  battants 
d'une  porte,et,dans  1'intervalle  de  quatre  a  cinq 
secondes,  son  visage  passe  successivement  de 
la  joie  folle  a  la  joie  mode"re"e,  de  cette  joie  a 
la  tranquillit^,  de  la  tranquillit£  a  la  surprise,  de 
la  surprise  a  Pe'tonnement,  de  P^tonnement  a 
la  tristesse,  de  la  tristesse  a  1'abattement,  de 
1'abattement  a  1'effroi,  de  Peffroi  £  1'horreur, 
de  1'horreur  au  de"sespoir,  et  remonte  de  ce 
dernier  a  celui  d'ou  il  £tait  descendu.  Est-  ce 
que  son  ame  a  pu  £prouver  toutes  ces  sensa- 
tions, et  exe"cuter  de  concert  avec  son  visage, 
cette  espece  de  gamme?  Je  n'en  crois  rien, 
ni  vous  non  plus.  Si  vous  demandiez  a  cet 
homme  c^lebre,  qui  lui  seul  me"ritait  autant 
qu'on  tit  le  voyage  d'Angleterre  que  tcrus  les 
restes  de  Romes  meYitent  qu'on  fasse  le  voy- 
age d'ltalie;  si  vous  lui  demandiez,  dis-je,  la 
scene  du  Petit  Garcon  patissier,  il  vous  la  jou- 
ait ;  si  vous  lui  demandiez  tout  de  suite  la 
scene  d'Hamlet,  il  vous  la  jouait,  e'galement 
pret  a  pleurer  la  chute  de  ses  petits  pate's,  et  a 
suivre  dans  Pair  le  chemin  d'un  poignard." 

With  this  may  be  compared  the  following 
from  William  Meister's  Lehrjahre  (Book  iv, 
Chap.  18). 

''He  [Serlo]  grew  up  and  showed  extraordi- 
nary capacities  of  the  mind,  and  skill  of  the 
body,  and,  along  with  these,  a  great  flexibility 


108 


217 


April,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


218 


both  in  style  and  conception  and  in  acts  and 
gestures.  His  gifts  of  imitation  passed  be- 
lief. When  a  mere  boy  he  already  imitated 
persons  so  perfectly  that  one  imagined  to  see 
them,  although  they  were  perfectly  unlike  him 
and  dissimilar  in  shape,  age  and  character." 

The  total  absence  of  sensibilite  in  Serlo  is  em- 
phasized (/.  c.): 

"  Being  cold  of  heart  and  feeling,  he  loved  in 
reality  no  one;  the  clearness  of  his  observa- 
tion made  it  impossible  for  him  to  esteem  any 
one;  for  he  saw  always  only  the  outward  pe- 
culiarities of  men  and  transferred  them  into 
his  mimic  collection." 

We  are  here  again  reminded  of  Diderot's  de- 
mand that  an  actor  must  be  "  cold  and  calm  " 
that  he  must  have  penetration,  but  no  sensi- 
bilite, and  that  he  must  possess  "the  art  of 
imitating  everything." 

Diderot  has  drawn  no  character  of  his  own 
invention  to  illustrate  his  conception  of  an  im- 
perfect actor,  but  he  gives,  nevertheless,  some 
illustrations  that  form  a  parallel  to  those  of 
Goethe,  and  suggested  to  Goethe,  as  I  feel 
compelled  to  think,  some  of  the  character- 
istic features  of  his  Wilhelm. 

He  introduces  an  actress,  Mme.  Riccoboni 
(/.  c.,  pp.  239  sq.).  She  is  the  author  of  a 
number  of  works  that  are  charming,  full  of 
genius,  delicacy  and  grace.  She  shows  both 
in  her  works  and  in  her  conduct  that  she  is 
sensible,  that  is,  emotional,  and  impulsive. 

"A  sad  incident  in  her  life  came  near  driving 
her  to  the  grave.  For  twenty  years  her  tears 
had  not  ceased  to  flow.  Well !  This  woman, 
one  of  the  most  emotional  that  nature  has 
formed,  has  been  one  of  the  worst  actresses 
who  have  ever  appeared  on  the  stage.  No, 
one  talks  better  about  the  art,  no  one  plays 
worse.  She  knows  it  and  does  not  complain 
of  the  marks  of  disapprobation  she  receives 
from  the  public.  And  yet  she  has  a  good  face, 
she  is  witty  ;  she  carries  herself  becomingly; 
her  voice  has  nothing  disagreeable.  She  pos- 
sessed all  the  good  qualities  that  education  can 
give.  In  society  she  was  all  that  could  be  de- 
sired. She  is  scarcely  noticed,  but  when  she 
speaks,  people  listen  with  the  greatest  pleas- 
ure.— And  yet  she  failed  as  an  actress. — //  is 
because  she  constantly  remained  herself  that 
the  public  constantly  refused  to  like  her. 

If  we  bear  in  mind  that  Wilhelm's  fate  as  an 
actor,  indicated  in  the  novel,  would  have  been 
the  same  as  Madame  Riccoboni's  if  he  had 
continued  on  the  stage,  we  see  that,  in  every 
essential  respect, Wilhelm's  character  furnishes 


an  exact  parallel  to  that  of  Diderot's  Ma- 
dame Riccoboni.  Wilhelm  was  supremely 
emotional  and  impulsive  ;  he  never  ceased  to 
shed  tears  over  that  early  disappointment 
which  had  brought  him  to  the  verge  of  the 
tomb  ;  he  had  a  fine  figure,  a  sympathetic 
voice  ;  when  he  talked,  people  listened  with 
pleasure ;  he  was  well  educated,  he  had  en- 
gaged in  literary  work,  he  behaved  with  pro- 
priety and  grace,  but  he  could  play  only  him- 
self. Like  Madame  Riccoboni  he  talks  well 
about  the  art,  but  he  is  not  an  actor.  Jarno's 
criticism  fits  him,  and  Jarno  speaks  exactly 
like  Diderot. 

I  pointed  out  in  my  opening  remarks,  that 
Diderot  has  written  a  thesis  which  he  felt 
bound  to  defend.  Nothing  of  the  kind  is 
found  in  Goethe.  The  reflections  interspersed 
in  the  novel  spring  naturally  from  the  situ- 
ation and  the  character  of  the  speakers.  For 
this  reason  in  order  to  make  a  comparison 
satisfactory,  it  is  necessary  to  study  the  char- 
acters and  the  situations  in  Goethe  quite  as 
particularly  as  the  remarks  that  bear  on  our 
subject.  And,  of  course,  it  is  understood  that 
Goethe's  aim  was  a  much  higher  one,  and 
that  our  comparison  touches  only  a  special 
feature  of  his  work.  On  the  other  hand,  we 
must  admit  that  Goethe  undoubtedly  learned 
much  from  Diderot;  for  this  writer  was  one  of 
the  most  suggestive  in  the  whole  range  of 
French  literature ;  an  acute  observer,  a 
close  reasoner  in  specific  lines,  endowed 
with  an  immense  power  of  mental  acquisition, 
an  excellent  memory  and  a  penetrating  intel- 
lect. That  Goethe  undertook  the  translation 
of  Diderot's  Neveu  de  Rameau,  the  subject 
of  which  is  largely  music,  in  which  Goethe  was 
only  slightly  interested,  proves  that  he  ap- 
preciated the  peculiar  qualities  of  this  rare 
mind  ;  and  the  fact  that  he  was  acquainted 
with  this  composition  which  for  many  years 
was  accounted  lost,  adds  force  to  the  argu- 
ment that  he  must  have  been  acquainted  also 
with  Diderot's  other  writings,  and  surely  with 
one  so  much  in  line  with  his  own  observations, 
as  the  Paradoxe  sur  le  Comedien. 

After  every  allowance  is  made  the  following 
facts  will  be  found  to  stand  out  very  clearly: 

Diderot's  Garrick  and  Riccoboni  corre- 
spond to  Goethe's  Serlo  and  Wilhelm  Meister. 


109 


219  April,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


Diderot  insists  that  an  actor  must  not  be 
emotional  (while,  of  course,  granting  that  he 
may  have  emotions  independently  of  his  char- 
acter as  an  artist);  that  he  must  be  a  cool  ob- 
server, a  good  imitator,  possessed  of  penetra- 
ting intellect,  and  diligent  in  practice  and  re- 
petition. 

Goethe  shows  thai  Serlo  is  just  such  an  ac- 
tor, that  every  one  of  these  conditions  is  ful- 
filled in  his  case,  and  that  he  possesses  these 
very  qualities  in  the  highest  degree. 

Diderot  states  that  the  emotional  and  im- 
pulsive character  is  not  fit  for  the  stage,  nor 
for  any  artistic  calling  (cf.  I.e.,  p.  220,  11.  16-20) 
because  such  a  person  can  play  and  represent 
only  himself. 

Goethe  makes  bis  Jarno  say  almost  the  same, 
and  he  shows  that  he  thinks  exactly  as  Diderot 
in  his  treatment  of  the  character  and  career 
of  Wilhelm. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  trace  relations  be- 
tween Diderot's  thoughts  and  Goethe's  in 
some  other  respects. 

While  Goethe  seems -to  attribute  to  Diderot 
an  excessive  regard  for  '  naturalness  '  on  the 
stage,  in  the  remark  in  Aus  meinem  Leben, 
Book  iii  (Weimar  Edition,  p.  148),  we  find  that 
Diderot,  in  the  article  which  I  have  here  con- 
sidered, is  very  emphatic  in  discriminating  be- 
tween the  truth  of  art  and  the  truth  of  nature. 
What  he  says  (/.  c.,  pp.  225  sq.)  anticipates 
Goethe's  own  views,  and  while  I  do  not  think 
that  Goethe  borrowed  these  views  from  Di- 
derot, I  must,  on  the  other  hand,  admit  that 
Goethe  was  not  quite  just  to  Diderot  in  that 
remark.  Diderot  says  : 

"Re'fle'chissez  un  moment  sur  ce  qu'on  appelle 
au  theatre  etre  vrai.  Est-ce  montrer  les 
choses  comme  elles  sont  en  nature?  Aucune- 
ment.  Le  vrai,  en  ce  sens,  ne  serait  que  le 
commun.  Qu'est-ce  done  que  le  vrai  de  la 
scene?  C'est  la  conformitl  des  actions,  de 
la  figure,  de  la  vpix,  du  mouvement,  du  geste, 
avec  un  modele  id£al  imagine"  par  le  po6te,  et 
souvent  exagere"  par  le  com£dien.  .  .  .  De  la 
vient  que  le  come"dien  dans  la  rue  ou  sur  la 
scfene  sont  deux  personnages  si  diffe'rents, 
qu'on  a  peine  a  les  reconnaitre  "  (pp.  225  sq.). 

Goethe,  in  the  remark  referred  to,  speaks 
of  a  time  when 

"according  to  DidtroFs  principles  and  ex- 
amples the  most  natural  naturalness  was  de- 
manded on  the  stage,  and  a  complete  illusion 


was  considered  the  proper  end  of  theatrical 
art. 

The  passage  quoted  above  shows,  however, 
that  Goethe  and  Diderot  agree,  for  Goethe 
says,  in  different  language  and  in  regard  to  a 
different  subject,  essentially  the  same  as 
Diderot.  In  Aus  meinem  Leben,  Book  xi,  p. 
76,  we  read : 

"The  highest  mission  of  every  art  is  to  pro- 
duce by  appearance  the  illusion  of  a  higher 
reality.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  a  false  en- 
deavor to  realize  the  appearance  so  long  until 
at  last  only  a  common  reality  remains. ' ' 

Diderot  had  said :  "The  true,  in  this  sense, 
would  be  only  the  common." 

In  a  well-known  passage,  Goethe  defends 
himself  against  the  charge  of  a  lack  of  pa- 
triotism during  the  period  of  the  German 
wars  of  liberation.  One  of  his  defenses  is 
"that  he  could  not  hate  the  French  to  whom 
he  (and  the  rest  of  his  nation)  owed  such  a 
large  portion  of  their  culture."  That  Goethe 
admired  Diderot  is  apparent  from  the  quo- 
tation in  the  beginning  of  this  article  ;  that  he 
was,  to  a  greater  or  less  degree,  influenced  in 
his  own  thinking  and  writing  by  the  French 
author,  seems  to  admit  of  scarcely  a  doubt, 
and  that  this  influence  is  particularly  striking 
in  his  Wilhelm  Meister,  will  be  granted,  un- 
less I  am  greatly  mistaken,  by  all  who  will 
take  the  trouble  of  verifying  the  statements 
of  this  paper. 

C.  A.  EGGERT. 
University  of  Chicago. 


A  SUG GESTION  ON  LESSING' S  KEIN 
MENSCH  MUSS  MUESSEN* 

WIE  gar  noch  heute  jemand  in  Lessing  einen 
Anhanger  der  Willensfreiheit  erblickeM  kann, 
scheint  den  Urkunden  gegeniiber  mehr  als 
paradox.2 

Lessing  zieht  die  Consequenz  aus  Leibniz' 
System,  wenn  er  die  Willensfreiheit  leugnet.3 

Instead  of  quoting  or  referring  to  the  nu- 
merous passages  in  Lessing's  own  writings 
which  would  uphold  the  above  quotations  from 
Schmidt  and  Zeller,  it  is  sufficient  to  make 

i  Nathan  dtr  Wetse,  1.  385. 

a  Erich  Schmidt,  Lessing,  Vol.  ii,  2nd  part  (that  is,  of  vol. 
ii),  p.  626. 

3  Zeller,  Lessing  als  Tkeolof,  in  Von  Sybel's  Historische 
Zeitschrift,  Vol.  xxiii,  pp  343  ff.  See  pp.  363-363. 


110 


221 


April, 


MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


222 


here  the  general  reference  to  Hebler's  treat- 
ment of  this  subject. 4  Of  course,  in  saying 
that  Lessing  denied  the  freedom  of  the  will, 
no  one  would  for  a  moment  think  of  him  as 
conceiving  man  as  a  blind  and  utterly  helpless 
tool  of  circumstances.  Hebler  says  :s 

Im  Zusatz  zum  zweiten  Wolfenbiittler  Frag- 
ment heisst  es  von  der  Macht  unserer  sinn- 
lichen  Begierden,  unserer  dunklen  Vorstel- 
lungen  iiber  alle  noch  so  deutliche  Erkenntniss, 
dass  'wir  es  in  uns  haben  sie  zu  schwachen, 
und  wir  uns  ihrer  eben  so  wohl  zu  guten  als 
zu  bosen  Handlungen  bedienen  konnen.' 
Ebenso,  wenn  die  Erziehung  d.  M.  G.,  §74, 
sagt,  '  dass  der  Mensch  auf  der  ersten  und 
niedrigsten  Stufe  seiner  Menschheit  schlech- 
terdings  so  Herr  seiner  Handlungen  nicht  sei, 
dass  er  moralischen  Gesetzen  folgen  konne,' 
so  ist  auch  hierin  enthalten,  dass  er  zu  dieser 
Herrschaft  auf  spateren  und  hoheren  Stufen 
gelange.  Aber  auch  der  Determinist,  z.  B. 
Jerusalem,  spricht  ja  von  '  Beherrschung  un- 
serer Leidenschaften  durch  die  Vernunft.' 
Das  ist  nicht  eine  Freiheit  zwischen  oder  iiber 
Nothwendigkeit  und  Willkiir,  sondern  eine 
Freiheit,  die  ganz  innerhalb  der  ersteren  lallt, 
eine  blosse  Art  derselben  ist,  namlich  diejenige 
Nothwendigkeit,  wo  das  am  starksten  Nothi- 
gende  die  Vernunft  ist. 

Quite  the  same  thing,  it  seems  to  me,  is 
meant  by  Nathan  in  the  passage  :6 

.     ....     .     Ich  dachte  mir  nur  immer, 

Der  Derwisch — so  der  rechte  Derwisch — well' 
Aus  sich  nichts  machen  lassen. 

That  is,  the  Dervish  "der  unter  Menschen 
mocht  ein  Mensch  zu  sein  verlernen,"7  cannot 
make  it  agree  with  his  'Vernunft'  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  human  society,  no  matter 
whether  the  Dervish  himself  recognizes  this 
as  the  motive  for  his  action  or  not,  in  Nathan's 
view  he  must  act  thus,  on  this  account*  But 
our  Dervish  is  not  quite  sure  he  holds  the 
general  view  of  his  class:  "Dass  er  kein 
rechter  sei,  mag  auch  wohl  wahr  sein.  Zwar 
wenn  man  muss  " — and  then  comes  the  line 
which  has  given  considerable  difficulty  to  that 
class  of  commentators  who  have  made  a  more 
or  less  thorough  study  of  Lessing's  works  out- 
side of  Nathan: 

Muss  !     Derwisch  ! — Derwisch  muss  ? 

Kein  Mensch  muss  mUssen,  und  ein  Derwisch  mflsste? 
Was  mlisst'  er  denn? 

4  Lessing-Studien,  Article  vi,  pp.  144  ff.:  Lessin?  und 
Jerusalem,  oder  Lessinft  Gedanken  iiier  Willensfreihtit . 

5.  P.  159. 

6.  Nathan,  11.  380-383. 

7.  Nathan,  \ .  498. 


Hebler  states  and  comments  on  the  question 
thus : 

"Eine  andere  Stelle,  welche  das  Miissen  zu 
leugnenscheint,  steht  im  Nathan,  und  brauchte 
insofern  nicht  dem  Denker,  sondern  nur  dem 
Dichter,  oder  vielmehr  nur  der  dramatischen 
Person,  welcher  er  sie  in  den  Mund  legt, 
angerechnet  zu  werden.  Aber  diese  Person 
ist  der  weise  Jude  selbst,  und  Worte  und 
Gedanken  sind  so  eigenthiimlich  Lessingisch, 
dass  wir  hier,  ohne  darum  Verse  mit  Para- 
graphen  zu  verwechseln,  auf  jene  Unter- 
scheidungen  Verzicht  leisten  wollen.  Der 
Derwisch  hat  sich  zu  grosser  Verwunderung 
seines  Freundes  zum  Schatzmeister  des  Sul- 
tans machen  lassen,  machen  lassen  miissen, 
behauptet  er. 

NATHAN;     Kein  Mensch  muss  miissen,  und   ein   Derwisch 

mUsste  ? 
Was  mlisst'  er  denn  ? 

Aber  die  Worte  :    Kein  Mensch  muss 

miissen! — wird  hier  nicht  schlechthin  das 
Miissen  verneint?  Nein,  eben  nicht ;  nur  ent- 
weder  das  Mtissen  des  Miissens  wird  verneint, 
oder  das  Miissen  des  Miissens.  Im  ersteren 
Fall  ist  die  Meinung  diese :  wenn  der  Mensch 
auch  muss,  so  ist  doch  das  Gegentheil  dessen, 
was  er  muss,  nicht  sich  selbst  widersprechend, 
und  insofern  moglich  ;  das  Miissen  ist  kein 
geometrisches  oder  metaphysisches,  sondern 
nur  ein  physisches  oder  psychologisches  oder 
moralisches,  und  seinem  besonderen  Inhalt 
nach  ein  sehr  verschiedenes  fur  verschiedene 
Menschen  und  in  verschiedenen  Zustanden 
eines  und  desselben  Menschen.  Im  andern 
Falle  ist  davon  die  Rede,  dass  wir,  wenn  wir 
auch  wollen  miissen,  doch  immerhin  wollen 
miissen." 

Hebler  may  be  right.  We  can  take  the 
words  in  either  sense — though  the  context  is 
rather  against  it — and  through  a  long  series  of 
reflections  approximate  them  to  Lessing's 
general  well-established  view.  But  in  a  drama 
particularly,  any  utterance  requiring  so  much 
speculation  to  get  at  its  real  meaning,  and 
then  not  being  decisive  one  way  or  the  other, 
is  out  of  place ;  and  though  a  large  number  of 
passages  in  Nathan  contain  allusions  which 
are  by  no  means  on  the  surface,  and  have  in 
many  cases  not  been  pointed  out  at  all,  yet 
they  are  of  such  a  nature,  that  their  recogni- 
tion or  non-recognition  very  little  affects  the 
play  as  a  work  of  art,  and  they  hardly  warrant 
us  in  making  Lessing  in  the  person  of  his 
Nathan  either  so  inconsistent  with  himself  as 
the  common  superficial  reading  of  these  lines 
would  make  him  appear,  or  so  obscure  as 


in 


223 


April,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  Ne.  4. 


224 


Hebler's  labored  explanation  and  the  general 
disagreement  on  the  passage  seem  to  indicate. 
Less  objectionable  might  be  this  explana- 
tion.   There  is  no  doubt  Lessing  started  out 
to  hint  at  his  view  on  the  freedom  of  the  will, 
and  he  does  so  in  the  words  of  the  Dervish : 
"  Warum  man  ihn  recht*  bittet,  und  vc  far  gut 
erkennt:  das  muss  ein  Derwisch."     Nathan 
in  order  to  make  an  opportunity  suitable. for 
an  expression  of  this  view,  has  to  utter  his 
maxim  casually,  without  much  regard  to  his 
deeper  philosophic  conviction.    As  soon  as  he 
hears  the  Dervish  express  his  own  real  view, 
however,  he  at  once  approves.    A  rather  seri- 
ous objection  to  this  explanation  is  the  fact 
that  it  presumes   on   the   part  of   Nathan    a 
thoughtlessness,   which  he   nowhere  else  be- 
trays as  an  ingredient  of  his  character.    To 
think  with  Diintzer  and  others  of  main  force 
brought  to  bear  on  the  Dervish,  would  not 
only  do  violence  to  the  character  of  the  Sultan 
as  Nathan  describes  it,9  but  it  would  also  make 
Nathan  say  an  absurdity  in  the  broadness  of 
his  famous  answer,  because  that  would  pre- 
clude  all   the  established  means   of  dealing 
with  the  refractory  members  of  human  society. 
There  is  one  more  interpretation,  which,  to 
my  mind,  is  free  from  all  these  objections. 

Professor  Primer  in  his  note  on  the  Dervish, 
and  in  a  private  letter  to  the  writer,  well 
observes  that  the  general  character  of  the 
Dervish  points  to  a  freedom  from  all  restraint, 
and  that  the  battle-cry  of  the  Dervishes  was 
freedom.  He  informs  me  that  Eduard  Nie- 
meyer  in  his  commentary  on  Nathan™  ex- 
presses a  cognate  idea.  The  same  view  I  find 
in  Hebler."  Bear  this  fact  in  mind,  together 
with  the  other  that  Lessing— provided  Na- 
than's views  are  his,  and  we  have  no  reason 
to  doubt  it— could  not  for  himself  say  :  "  Kein 
Mensch  muss  miissen,"  and  then  read  the 
lines  in  connection : 

NATHAN: Ich  dachte  mir  nur  immer, 

Der  Derwisch — so  der  rechte  Derwisch — woll" 
Aus  sich  nichts  machen  lassen. 

8  I  emphasize  the  recht,  not  merely  because  I  should  con- 
sider this  necessary  for  a  correct  statement  of  Lessing's  view 
but  also  because   the   Dervish   later  on  (461-476)  dwells  at 
length   on   the  manner   in  which   he  was  entreated  by  the 
Sultan. 

9  11.  1 343-1 345. 

10  1.  385. 

11  P.  161. 


DKRWISCH  :  Beim  Propheten. 

Pass  ich  kein  rechter  bin,  mag  auch  wohl  wahr 

sein. 
Zwar  wenn  man  muss.  — 

NATHAN  :  Muss  !     Derwisch  !— Derwisch  muss  ? 

Kein   Mensch   muss   mussen,  und  ein  Derwisch 

musste  ? 
Was  mtisst'  er  denn  ? 

DERWISCH  :  Warum  man  ihn  recht  bittet, 

Und  er  fiir  gut  erkennt :  das  muss  ein  Derwisch. 

NATHAN:     Bei   unseren   Gott !     Da  sagst   du    wahr.— Lass 
dich  Umarmen,  Mensch. 

It  seems  to  me  not  at  all  unnatural  that  the 
line  under  consideration  should  then  bear  this 
import:  "Es  ist  doch  sonst  euer  Grundsatz : 
Kein  Mensch  muss  miissen,  und  nun  sagst  du, 
ein  Derwisch,  der  sich  eben  in  diesetn  Grund- 
satz von  so  manchem  andern,  und  besonders 
von  mir  unterscheidet,  du  miisstest?"  In  other 
words:    the  sentence:   "Kein   Mensch   muss 
miissen,"  is  not  to  be  taken  as  Nathan's  own 
words,   but  rather  as  a    formulation    of  the 
principles  of  the  Dervish  as  exemplified  in  his 
whole  character,  or,  possibly,  as  a  quotation 
of  a  favorite  sentence  of  his  which  he  might 
very  well  have  uttered  time  and  again  in  his 
conversations   with   Nathan   in  former    days. 
Observe  the  two  exclamation  points,  the  dash 
and   the  interrogation   point — all  in  the  half- 
line:  "Muss!      Derwisch  !— Derwish   muss?" 
Lessing    does    not    punctuate    thoughtlessly. 
Nathan  has  caught  his  friend  in  an  inconsis- 
tency.    He  is  surprised  and  half  jokingly  re- 
minds him  :    We  used  to  differ  on  this  point, 
you  know;  you  have  not  come  over  on  my 
side?     The  Dervish   has,   at  least   partially, 
come  over,  has  learned  his  own  thoughts  more 
clearly,   possibly,   and  in  the    next  line    ex- 
presses  Nathan's  own  view:    "Warum  man 
ihn  recht  bittet  und  er  fur  gut  erkennt:  das 
muss  ein  Derwisch."    That  is  Lessing:  where 
circumstances  and  clear  conception  of  the  in 
herent  goodness  and  Tightness  of  a  thing  unite 
in  appealing  to  our  better  judgment :  in  cases 
like  that  there  is  no  choice  for  a  man  who  has 
risen  above  the  state  of  man  in  which  dark 
passions    control    the    clear    dictates    of   his 
reason  and  judgment.12     Nathan  says  himself 
that  this  is  his  conception  of  the  freedom  or 
non-freedom  of  the  will,  of  "  Mussen  :  " 

12  Cf.  Lessing's  Werke  (Hempel),  xv,  Cap.  265. 


112 


225  April,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


226 


Bei  unserm  Gott  I     Da  sagst  du  wahr.— Lass  dich 
Umarmen,  Mensch. 


University  of  Michigan. 


T.    DlEKHOFF. 


NICHOLAS  BRETON  AND    GEORGE 
GASCOIGNE. 

THE  connection  between  Nicholas  Breton  and 
George  Gascoigne  is  worthy  of  a  fuller  recogni- 
tion than  it  has  yet  received.  Breton  was  a  man 
whose  intellectual  development  was  slow ; 
even  between  the  ages  of  thirty-five  and  fifty, 
he  shows  in  some  directions  not  only  a  re- 
markable widening  of  thought,  but  a  very  un- 
usual increase  of  ease  in  handling  his  mate- 
rial. To  such  a  man  the  years  from  twenty- 
three  to  thirty-two  were  formative  years,  and 
this  is  just  the  period  during  which  he  came 
most  closely  under  the  influence  of  Gascoigne, 
who  had  married  his  widowed  mother.  There 
is  no  reason  to  believe  that  the  relation  between 
these  poets  was  other  than  harmonious,  and 
the  nine  years  seem  to  have  been  a  time 
of  apprenticeship  for  the  younger.  The  fact 
that  there  is  an  interval  of  fifteen  years  be- 
tween Breton's  first  poems,  published  just  be- 
fore Gascoigne's  death,  and  his  next  work, 
strongly  suggests  that  he  felt  his  encourage- 
ment and  support  in  authorship  to  have  been 
removed. 

By  occasional  phrase  or  allusion,  Breton 
shows  his  familiarity  with  Gascoigne's  poems, 
but  it  speaks  well  for  his  literary  indepen- 
dence that  even  his  earliest  work  was  in  no 
degree  imitative.  Indeed,  there  is  far  more 
resemblance  between  his  satire  of  1600  than 
his  poems  of  1577  and  any  of  Gascoigne's 
productions.  His  originality,  however,  was 
strictly  subjective,  and  consisted  in  adding 
something  of  his  own  to  whatever  established 
fashion  he  chose  to  follow.  In  delicacy  of 
imagery,  he  improves  greatly  upon  Gascoigne, 
who  "drowns  in  dole,"  and  "wallows  in  joy," 
whose  sighs  "boil"  out  of  his  heart  and  "scald" 
his  breast  in  the  process  :  for  example,  where 
Gascoigne  says, 

"Amid  my  bale  I  bathe  in  bliss," 

Breton  writes  far  more  delicately, 

"  They  bide  in  bliss  amid  their  weary  bale.'' 

In  satire,  both  show  the  same  penetrating 


but  kindly  insight ;  the  same  power  to  outline 
in  a  few  strokes  the  good  and  the  bad ;  the 
same  carefulness  to  blame  wrongs  rather  than 
individuals;  the  same  sensitive  watchfulness 
not  to  wound  the  innocent.  Breton's  satire 
was  directed  chiefly  against  wealth  versus 
poverty;  Gascoigne  takes  higher  ground 
and  satirizes  "  such  as  love  to  seem  but  not  to 
be;"  but  both  write,  not  like  recluses,  but 
like  men  who  knew  their  world.  The  world 
of  nature,  too,  both  knew  and  both  loved, 
but  Gascoigne  had  here  the  wider  view  and 
was  by  far  the  keener  observer. 

In  religious  poetry,  Gascoigne's  Calvinistic 
pessimism  would  have  been  as  incomprehen- 
sible to  Breton  as  the  ecstasies  of  Southwell. 
At  the  thought  of  death,  Southwell  gazes 
with  rapturous  longing  into  the  heaven  that 
opens  before  him  ;  Gascoigne,  with  his  over- 
flowing vitality,  flinches  and  fears;  Breton 
leisurely  sentimentalizes.  His  hopeful,  sunny 
nature  gleams  through  the  slight  melancholy 
that  he  regards  as  the  proper  atmosphere  to 
surround  a  religious  poem.  He  often  cries 
out  of  the  depths,  but  he  never  loses  a 
cheerful  confidence  in  the  result  of  his  sup- 
plications. 

In  manly  independence  Breton  is  absolutely 
unbending.  Even  in  those  of  his  dedications 
and  prefaces  that  are  written  in  the  euphuistic 
vein,  so  subtle  an  incentive  to  flattery,  he 
makes  no  attempt  to  curry  the  favor  that  re- 
moved so  many  obstacles  from  the  path  of  the" 
literary  man  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Gas- 
coigne makes  appeals  for  patronage,  distaste- 
ful as  they  must  have  been  to  him,  and  he 
does  it  in  a  delightfully  persistent,  business- 
like fashion,  as  if  he  meant  to  end  a  disa- 
greeable matter  as  soon  as  possible.  Breton 
manifests  a  "  decent  respect  to  the  opinions  of 
mankind"  in  that  he  usually  asks,  that  his 
book  be  read,  and  evinces  a  healthy  gratitude 
in  advance,  but  he  does  not  hesitate  to  sign 
himself  "  Your  friend  as  I  find  cause."  Some- 
times he  does  not  even  ask  for  a  reading,  but 
says,  "  You  shall  read  it  if  it  shall  please  you, 
and  consider  it  as  it  shall  like  you." 

Of  the  Sweet  Lullabie,  by  far  the  best  of  all 
the  poems  ascribed  to  Breton,  a  word  must  be 
said.  Grosart  somewhat  magisterially  claims 
it  for  Breton,  but  gives  no  proof  therefor. 


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228 


Saintsbury  says  that  such  a  claim  "is  based 
on  little  external  and  refuted  by  all  internal 
evidence."  I  do  not  find  in  the  poem  one 
trace  of  the  qualities  of  Breton's  thought  or 
of  the  usual  marks  of  his  style.  I  claim  it  for 
Gascoigne  on  the  following  grounds  : 

1.  Similarity  of  phrase  with  lines  in  Gas- 
coigne's  Epitaph  upon  Captain  Botichier. 

a.  "A  noble  youth  of  blood  and  bone 

His  glancing  looks,  if  he  once  smile, 
Right  honest  women  may  beguile." 

Lullabie. 

a.  He  might  for  birth  have  boasted  noble  race, 
Yet  were  his  manners  meek  and  always  mild. 
Who  gave  a  guess  by  gazing  on  his  face, 

And  judged  thereby  might  quickly  be  beguiled." 

Epitaph. 

b.  "Although  a  lion  in  the  field, 

A  lamb  in  town  thou  shall  him  find." 

Lullabie. 
b.  "In  field  a  lion  and  in  town  a  child."' 

Epitaph. 

2.  The  clear-eyed,  unconventional  view  of 
right,  a  characteristic  of  Gascoigne,  but  di- 
rectly opposed  to  the  unvarying   convention- 
ality of  Breton. 

3.  The  impression  given  by  the  poem  that 
it  is  the  product  of  a  moment  of  inspiration, 
and  not  of  any  poetical  industry.    These  mo- 
ments of  inspiration  were  as  characteristic  of 
the  work  of  Gascoigne,  as  is  the  impression  of 
industry  given  by  the  works  of  Breton. 

EVA  MARCH  TAPPAN. 

University  of  Pennsylvania. 


SOME    LINGUISTIC   SUGGESTIONS. 

I.  GERMAN  Mich. 

IT  is  customaryito  compare  this  form  with  Greek 
ifie  y£,  ye  being  an  enclitic  by  common  inter- 
pretation. This  comparison  is  but  a  half-truth: 
ejue  ye.  is  a  false  analysis  of  *i-fi£y-£.  In 
the  Sanskrit  paradigm  of  the  first  person  pro- 
noun we  have  a  nom.  ah-am,  dat.  mah-y-am, 
and  the  Aryan  character  of  mah-  is  vouched 
for  by  the  Latin  dat.  mih-i.  German  mich  is 
an  accusative  to  the  Aryan  stem  *magh-,  * 
Sk.  *mah-am,  Latin  *meh-em,  Gk.  (Doric)  *£- 
fidy-a.  The  Attic  *£-juey-£  has  the  same  ac- 
cusative ending  as  the  brief  form  /j.-e.  There 
is  some  phonetic  difficulty  involved  in  the  rep- 

i  By  or  I  indicate  «*• 


resentation  of  the  Sk.  h  by  Gk.  y  and  the 
doublet  g\\h  in  Latin  (ego  \\mih-i).  This 
Scylla  of  phonetic  variation  may  be  avoided 
by  leaping  into  the  Charybdis  of  interjectional 
words  and  recognizing  an  Aryan  interjection 
gi  and  another  gha  which  were  somehow 
merged  by  agglutination  (reprehensible  glot- 
togonic  device  !)  with  the  stem  me  ||  e  of  the 
first  person  pronoun.2  For  myself  I  accept 
the  alternative  of  phonetic  variation,  but  so  far 
am  I  from  rejecting  glottogonic  methods  that 
I  believe  it  is  the  true  goal,  as  it  will  be  the 
great  glory,  of  linguistics  to  penetrate  into  the 
the  very  womb  of  Vac  h  (the  speech-goddess 
of  the  Hindus);  and  so  I  venture  to  suggest 
the  motif  of  the  stem  *magh,  as  I  have  ven- 
tured once  beforea  to  suggest  the  motif  of  the 
Aryan  word  for  the  tongue.  The  first  person 
stem  *mag-h-as  reconstructed  is  precisely  iden- 
tical with  *magh-,  'great,'  which  shows  in 
Greek  and  Latin  the  same  perverseness  of  a 
sonant  g  for  an  aspirate  ^,  h.  Can  we  medi- 
ate between  "I"  and  "big,"  not  to  fall  into 
the  comedy  of  the  English  "  big  I  "  ?  I  have 
suggested4  that  the  notion  "I"  developed  from 
the  grunt  rendered  hem,  hum,  humph,  etc.,  by 
English  as  she  is  spelt,  a  grunt  whose  pho- 
netics has  but  partial  justice  done  it  by  the 
spellings  mh  \\  hm.  Astonishment  is  one  of  the 
prevailing  notions  expressed  by  this  grunt. 
Why  should  it  not  be  the  'nar  iculate  base  of 
the  articulate  magh-,  '  big  '  ? 

II.  ENGLISH  spray=G*EVM AN  spreu,  'CHAFF.' 

Neither  Skeat  nor  Kluge  in  their  etymolo- 
gical dictionaries  recognize  the  kinship  of 
these  words.  The  phonetics  is  entirely  nor- 
mal, cf.  Aay=German  heu.  The  semasic  re- 
lation is  absolutely  perspicuous,  as  Gk.  axvt} 
'  spray,'  '  chaff,'  shows. 

III.  GERMAN  streu,  'STRAW.' 
The  vocalization  of  streu  is  abnormal,  and 
has  never  been  explained.      It  was,   I    sug- 
gest, semasically  associated  at  an  early  Ger- 
manic period  with  heu,  'hay, 'and  spreu,  'chaff,' 

a.  Cf.  Brugmann,  Gr.,  ii,  §434,  and  Lindsay,  Latin  Lan- 
guage, ch .  x,  gi . 

3  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES,  v»l.  ix,  col.  270. 

4  Am.   y.    Phil.<    xv,    414;     cf.     Dabney's    Don    Miff, 
Ch.  xxx,  for  further  illustration.     One  of  Dabney's  spellings 
is  tn'h'm,  and  another  umgh. 


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230 


and  entirely  assimilated  in  its  vocalization. 

I  take  here  a  text  for  the  question  of  method 
in  linguistic  investigation.  Any  right  study  of 
the  word  for  etymological  purposes  begins, 
like  charity,  at  home.  It  is  much  more  im- 
portant to  know  the  usage  of  streu  in  German 
than  to  rush  off  to  Gk.  6ropevvv^i  'strew' 
for  a  comparison.  We  should  find  out  for 
streu  first  the  etymologically  related  words  in 
its  own  language,  then  the  words  actually  and 
conceivably  associated  with  it  by  similarity 
and  dissimilarity  of  usage.  Then  one  may 
profitably  have  recourse  to  the  sister  lan- 
guages, and  so  give  Gropevvvni,  etc.,  their 
due.  If  there  is  any  phonetic  abnormality  it 
will  very  likely  find  its  clue  in  the  words 
that  moved  in  the  same  circle  with  the  word  in 
question,  say,  streu.  It  is  of  interest  in  pass- 
ing to  note  that  the  verb  systems  have  been 
patterned  on  streu,  the  noun. 

IV.  LITHUANIAN  ugnls  'PIRE.' 
In  illustration  of  the  remarks  just  made  I 
pass  to  the  word  for  '  fire '  represented  in 
Sk.  agnis,  Lat.  ignis,  O.Bulg.  ogril  and  Lith. 
ugnls.  Arguing  from  Sanskrit  and  Old  Bul- 
garian the  Aryan  was  *agni-  or  *ogni-  ;  ignis 
seems  irreconcilable  with  *ogni,  and  most 
naturally  demands  *egni-t  but  inasmuch  as 
Latin  lena  'pander'  is  akin  to  hayvoS  'sala- 
cious,' we  cannot  be  sure  that  *agni-  would 
not  have  given  *egni,  whence  *igni-  by  an  un- 
deniable alternation  between  e  and  I  in  Latin, 
due  perhaps  to  palatalization. 5  On  the  other 
hand  agnus,'\a.mb,"  magnus,  'great,'  stagnum, 
'standing  water,'  may  either  show  the  normal 
phonetics  of  the  group  agn,  or  may  have 
been  influenced  by  agere,  '  drive '  (flocks), 
magis, '  more, '  stare,  'stand.'  Between  these 
possibilities  who  shall  decide?  Very  much 
more  important  than  this  delicate  phonetic 
question  is  the  Latin  feeling  for  ignis.  It  is 
associated  now  and  then  with  lignum,  'fire- 
wood '  ;6  ignis  and  ictus,  as  well  as  fulmen, 
are  not  uncommonly  used  for  'lightning,'  the 
two  former  in  Vergil  and  Lucretius  particu- 
larly ;  ictus  fulmen  is  a  standing  idiom ;  /«/- 
mineus  ignis  and  fulmineus  ictus  are  also 

5  Cf,  Lindsay,  I.e.,  iv,  §7. 

6  Cf.  ligna.  circumdare — ignemque  suticere,  Cic.,  Vtrr., 
a,  i.  17,  69. 


phrases  in  current  use.  Further  the  idiom 
subicerc  ignem,  'to  fling  fire,'  is  as  current  as 
a  term  of  warfare  as  iacere  fulmen  '  to  fling  a 
thunderbolt '  is  of  Jupiter's  prowess  with  that 
weapon  ;  while  ictus  is  probably  a  ptc.  of 
iacere.  We  may  be  perfectly  sure  then 
that,  irrespective  of  all  Aryan  belongings, 
ignis  and  ictus  were  congeneric  to  the  feeling 
of  the  Romans,  and  were  associated  in  their 
phonetics;  and  so  ignis  is  not  capable  of 
throwing  any  light  upon  the  Aryan  base, 
though  Agni's  character  as  the  lightning-god 
is  confirmatory  of  the  Roman  use  of  ignis. 

We  turn,  then,  to  the  abnormality  of  Lith. 
ugnls.  This  was  in  primitive  Balto-Slavic 
*agni-.  I  am  not  well  enough  versed  in 
Lithuanian  to  make  any  suggestion  as  to  the 
alterant  cause  from  my  own  reading,  and  I  am 
without  good  lexical  aids,  but  ugnls  must 
have  been  associated  with  words  meaning 
'  burn,'  as  in  Latin,  say,  ignis  urit,  'fire  burns;' 
and  as  usms,  'stinging-nettle'  (Brennnessel), 
vouches  for  the  preservation  in  Balto-Slavic 
of  the  Aryan  root  us-,  'burn,'  we  may  plaus- 
ibly lay  the  abnormal  vocalization  of  ugnls  to 
the  charge  of  usnls,  a  word  absolutely  identi- 
cal in  its  entire  formation. 

Such  suggestions,  however,  of  the  esoteric 
associations  of  words  within  a  given  language 
belong,  of  course,  to  special  students  of  the 
language.  I  emphasize  once  more  the  impor- 
tance of  knowing  the  idiomatic  treatment  of 
words  in  their  individual  semasic  groups  be- 
fore the  general  linguistician  has  a  right  to 
propound  inviolable  phonetic  laws.  Thus 
Latin  ignis  can  tell  us  nothing  of  the  treat- 
ment of  a  before  gn,  nor  of  the  Latin  hand- 
ling of  Aryan  gn. 

V.  LITHUANIAN  $r  '  is  ' :  ir  'AND.' 
J.  Schmidt,  has  connected  jr  and  its  byform 
yra  with  Gk.  opjusro?,  'setting  out';  cf.  Sk. 
l/ ir,'  put  in  motion.'  To  the  same  root  Eng. 
art  (2d.  sg.)  is  assigned.  But  art  and  are  get 
their  r  satisfactorily  accounted  for  by  the  ab- 
solutely regular  operation  of  Verner's  law  for 
are,  and  for  art,  by  the  penetration  of  r  from 
the  plural  to  the  singular.  Just  so,  in  Old 
Norse,  from  the  regular  plural  erum,  eruS, 
eru  has  come  a  sg.  er,  ert,  er,  beside  the  older 
em,  est,  es,  while  in  the  Gothic  preterit  thfe  s, 


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232 


of  the  singular  was,  etc.,  has  routed  the  z  of 
the  plural  *wezum,  etc.  Who  can  doubt  that 
when  the  primitive  Germanic  paradigm  was 
in  course  of  change  a  2d  sg.  *es-i  was  likely 
to  suffer  rhotacism  along  with  the  ist  plur. 
esum,  etc.?  The  primitive  2d  sg-.  then  became 
er,  and  to  this  the  ending  /  was  added  from 
was-t  and  the  preterit  presents.  From  *ert 
came  by  normal  change  eart  whose  vocaliza- 
tion shifted  the  ist  sg.  to  eann  eside  edtn  and 
the  jd  plur.  to  earon.  Such  is  th  e  simplest,  and 
a  quite  satisfactory  explanation,  and  accords 
with  that  of  the  Century  Dictionary* 

Brugmann,  however,  in  the  Grundriss,  main- 
tains and  expands  the  tenet  of  J.  Schmidt. 
But  we  have  seen  that  no  phonetic  con- 
ditions demand  the  separation  of  art  and 
are  from  am  and  is.  The  only  warrant  for  such 
a  separation  outside  of  Anglo-Saxon  is  found 
in  the  Lithuanian  forms yra  \\y"r.  I  think  I 
can  offer  a  simpler  explanation  for  these 
forms,  viz;  to  divide  y~-ra  \\y-r.  Here  the  r- 
form  is  to  be  connected  with  the  r  of  the 
Latin  and  Celtic  deponent-passive,  and  the  r 
of  the  Sanskrit  perfects. 9  How  then  is  the  $. 
to  be  explained  ?  It  may  be  an  alternative  to 
an  Aryan  /.*<>  I  have  suggested11  that  the  copu- 
lative verb  was  originally  a  demonstrative 
e-  subsequently  developed  into  a  verb  root  e-s-, 
and  I  explained  the  copulative  participle  re- 
presented by  Latin  et  as  an  abandoned  3d 
sg.  of  the  copulative  verb.  With  this  sugges- 
tion Lith.  $r,  'he  is,'  beside  ir,  'and,'  seems 
also  to  coincide. 

This  may  seem  a  purely  glottogonic  specu- 
lation, but  I  have  brought  forward  in  the  place 
cited  some  examples  to  prove  that  in  Greek 
there  was  a  root  e-  besides  es-,'be'  (< 'there.'!) 
Who  will  may  prefer  to  compare  Sk.  \/ir,  'set 
in  motion,'  and  opvv/j.i,  same  meaning.  Apol- 
lonius  Rhodius  does,  to  be  sure,  use  opoopa 
in  a  sense  nearly  like  ttfri,  'he  is.'  But  this 

7  For  the  relation  of  earn  to  a  -i,  I  refer  to  Sweet's  Hist.  »f 
Eng.  Sounds,  §442 . 

8  Cf.  also  V.  Henry,   Gram.    Coinp.  dt  I'Anglaise,  etc., 
p.  362. 

9  Cf.  Brugmann,  Gr.,  ii,  §1076  sq.,  and  the  author,  Am.  J. 
Phil.,  xv,  432. 

10.  Cf.  the  author,  I.e.,  xvi,  5  sq  ,  and  v.  Rozwadowski, 
£.£.,xxi,  154  sq. 

ii  /.  c.  p.  19. 


archaist  cannot  be  trusted  to  represent  a 
genuine  usage.  The  student  of  Homer  knows 
how  prolific  he  is  in  quasi-copulative  verbs, 
and  it  happens  that  TteXoo,  '  rise  up '  and 
'be,'  could  easily  have  wrought  a  later 
opoopa,  'he  is,'  beside  opdoe,  'rise!'  Ho- 
mer himself,  it  must  be  admitted,  seems  to 
fore-shadow  this,  but  after  all  it  is  dangerous 
to  infer  from  the  highly  developed  transfers  of 
meaning  in  an  artificial  language  like  that  of 
the  Greek  epic,  where  so  many  words  reach  a 
quasi-copulative  force,  to  the  common  every- 
day copula  of  Lithuanian. 

EDWIN  W.  FAY. 
Washington  and  Lee  University. 


THE  STRESS  OF  GERMANAND 
ENGLISH  COMPOUND   GEO- 
GRAPHICAL NAMES. 

IT  is  at  times  convenient  to  divide  the  various 
forces  that  determine  the  stress  of  words  into 
two  classes  :  psychological  and  physical.  By 
the  latter  are  meant  the  oral  elements  of  a 
word  and  their  relations  to  one  another  and  to 
the  elements  of  neighboring  words.  For  ex- 
ample :  (i)  it  is  difficult  to  sound  a  het.vy 
syllable  without  stressing  it,  hence  such  a 
word  as  Kf 'ben' dig  is  apt  to  become  leben'dig 
unless  psychological  forces  prevent,  so  Middle- 
English  el"lev'ne>elev'ne  'eleven;'  (2)  after 
a  strong  stress  the  organs  require  some  time 
in  which  to  recover,  whereby  an  alternate 
rhythm  is  favored,  cf.  Welt'"aus"stel'lung> 
Welt"  ansstel' lung,  Win'"ches"terf>  Win"  Ches- 
ter' ;  (3)  a  stress  is  apt  to  be  weakened  be- 
cause of  the  necessity  of  stressing  a  succeed- 
ing word,  while  on  the  other  hand  force  is 
freely  spent  on  a  stress  near  the  e'nd, — whence 
the  frequent  vacillation  in  stress  according  as 
a  word  is  attributive  or  predicate:  often  stock'- 
dumm"  but  ein  <>tock"dumrmer  Mensch", 
Portion'  but  eine  Por'tion  Kaf'fee,  well-bred' 
but  a  well' -bred  per' son. 

The  more  familiar  a  word  and  the  oftener 
used  by  an  individual  or  a  community;  the 
more  it  becomes  subject  to  the  physical  forces. 
The  normal  stress  of  such  a  word  as  Herzog 
is  Her"zog' ',  and  in  distinction  from  it  Erz- 
herzog&nA  Grossherzogzxe  generally  stressed 
Erz"'her"zog'  and  Gross"  '  her"  zog'  >  though 


116 


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234 


this  juxtaposition  of  three  stresses  gradually 
declining  in  strength  is  peculiarly  difficult. 
The  Thuringians  constantly  have  occasion  to 
speak  of  the  Grossherzog  of  Sachsen-Weimar 
and  have  yielded  in  part  to  the  physical  forces, 
or  "rhythm;"  that  is,  while  retaining  the 
heaviest  stress  on  Gross-,  thus  distinguishing 
the  Grossherzog  from  the  various  Thuringian 
Herzoge,  they  shift  the  secondary  stress  to 
the  last  syllable :  Gross"  herzog' .  It  will  be 
observed  that  this  is  not  the  best  solution  of 
the  difficulty  from  the  physical  point  of  view, 
as  it  makes  it  necessary  to  sound  the  heavy 
medial  syllable  with  little  stress.  Before  a 
heavy  final  syllable  we  should  expect  a  heavy 
medial  syllable  to  get  more  stress  than  an 
equally  heavy  initial  syllable,  and  this  is  what 
happens  in  Grossher'zog  and  Erzher'zog  in 
Mecklenburg  and  Austria,  where  the  same 
reason  exists  for  constantly  using  these  titles 
that  exists  in  Thuringia,  but  less  reason  for 
distinguishing  them  from  Herzog. 

While  a  shift  of  the  secondary  stress  from 
the  second  to  a  following  syllable  is  common 
enough  in  German:  Vor"urteil' ,  Geld"anwei'- 
sung,  un"anstdn'dig,  etc.;*  the  shift  of  the 
chief  stress  from  the  first  member  to  the 
second  is  rare  in  ordinary  German  substantives 
because  of  the  psychological  importance  of 
the  first  member.  Still  it  does  yield  at  times 
if  the  first  member  has  a  vague  or  only  inten- 
sive force,  especially  in  words  made  up  of 
more  than  two  stems  :  Karfrei'tag  (but  Karr- 
woche,  which  has  only  two  heavy  syllables), 
AUge'genwart,  Oberpost'direktion,  Urahn'- 
herr,  etc.;  in  this  way  un-  has  lost  its  stress  in 
some  German  and  in  all  English  words.  The 
tendency  to  shift  the  chief  stress  to  a  following 
member  is  much  more  pronounced  in  English 
than  in  German  :  thus,  at  least  in  the  northern 
States  west  of  the  coast,  one  usually  hears  ice- 
cream', applepie',  often  horseradish,  and,  at 
the  end  of  a  clause,  often  even  high  school', 
coal  stove',  etc.  In  Germany  the  North  Ger- 
mans are  most  inclined  to  the  shift,  and 
among  them  one  not  only  frequently  hears 
Kiisebut'terbrot  but  quite  generally  Burger- 
mei'ster,  at  BremenJP«fot*/'Ar,and  at  Rostock 

2  Cf.  Roch"ester't  Barn" 'stnble1 ',  Ne-u>"burgl  or  New'b'ry 
in  Newburyport,  Mass.,  Wesf'tnortUncf  in  England,  but 
Westmore'land'm  America. 


and  other  places  Marienkirch' ,  Petrikirch' , 
etc. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  last  four  cases, 
as  well  as  some  of  those  above,  border  on 
proper  names.  In  fact,  proper  names,  and 
geographical  proper  names  in  particular,  fur- 
nish the  best  material  for  the  observation  of 
the  vacillation  of  stress  according  as  mental 
associations  are  vigorous  or  are  weaker  than 
the  physical  conditions.  It  is  my  purpose  to 
illustrate  this  in  the  case  of  German  and 
English  compound  geographical  names.  It 
will  not  be  out  of  place  to  consider  also  a  few 
names  that  are  not  compounds  but,  like  these, 
have  two  syllables  capable  of  heavy  stress; 
and  some  matters  other  than  stress  naturally 
demand  consideration  in  connection  with  it. 

It  is  not  practicable,  in  the  case  of  such 
words,  to  observe  the  distinction  between 
compounds  proper  and  conglomerates  ;  most 
of  the  words  in  question  are  conglomerates. 
Some  of  them  ;  for  example,  Siebenbur'gen, 
Wenigcnje'na,  Konigsbrun'nen,  etc.,  Long  Is' - 
land,  West  Virgin'ia,  New  York' ,  etc. — prob- 
ably have  sentence-stress  retained  in  con- 
glomerates. But  many  such  conglomerates 
came  to  have  the  stress  of  real  compounds ; 
for  example,  Al'tenburg,  Ho'henstein,  etc., 
While' water,  Pitts' burg,  New' port,  etc.;  and 
then  some  shifted  the  stress  as  below. 

I.  In  a  compound  geographical  name,  the 
meaning  of  the  elements,  or  the  application  of 
the  meaning,  is  generally  not  obvious.  One 
or  both  of  the  elements  may  be  foreign  and 
not  understood.  If  the  form  is  familiar,  its 
'application  may  be  fanciful  or  no  longer  ap- 
propriate, and  even  if  it  is  appropriate,  this 
may  be  evident  only  to  a  person  on  the  spot 
and  perhaps  there  only  at  certain  seasons.  It 
thus  comes  about  that  a  geographical  name  is 
remembered  as  a  whole  and  is  therefore  par- 
ticularly susceptible  to  the  influence  of  rhythm , 
or  physical  conditions.  That  is,  unless  there 
is  some  reason  for  emphasizing  the  first  mem- 
ber, the  chief  stress  may  be  expected  to  shift 
to  the  second  member.  Shifting  is  most  com- 
mon in  German  in  compounds  in  -born  -bronn 
-briick(eti)  -brunn(en)  -ford*  -fiirth  -grdtz  -hau- 
sen  -miinde  -reuth  -roda  -rode  -walde  -weiler 
-werder  -werth  -worth  -zell(e}:  Waltershau'- 
sen,  Konigsbrun'nen,  Saar-  Zweibrack'en,  Ek- 


117 


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236 


ernfor'de,  Baireuth',  Lichtenwal'de,  Donau- 
w'orth' ',  Marienwer'der,  Swinemun'de,  Appen- 
zell' ,  Friedrichro'da.s 

In  English  the  second  member  usually  has 
the  chief  stress  if  it  is  city,  island,  rapids, 
springs,  creek,  run,  harbor,  haven,  etc.M  Bay 
Cit'y,  Rhode  Is'land,  Cedar  Rap'ids,  Sara- 
toga Springs',  Benton  Har'bor,  New  Ha'ven.s 

But,  as  stated  above,  the  stress  of  words 
may  be  determined  not  only  by  their  elements 
but  also  by  the  relation  of  these  to  the  ele- 
ments of  neighboring  words.  Thus  we  usually 
say  Ho'henlo"he  and  auf  dent  Ho'henzol"lern, 
but  Furst'  Ho"henlo'he  and  sometimes  Burg' 
Ho"henzol'lern,  the  stress  on  the  title  being 
weaker  than  that  on  the  name,  while  the  stress 
on  the  intermediate  heavy  member  Hohen-  is 
strengthened  and  the  alternate  rhythm  estab- 
lished. Similarly  die  Kits"te  von  Nord'  A"- 
frika  but  die  nord"afrika'nische  Kus"te;  O'~ 
sterwaV'de,  but  (in  speaking  of  the  same  place) 
O"sterwald'  bei  El"ze,  the  stress  on  -wald be- 
ing weakened  before  Elze,  and  that  on  Oster- 
strengthened.  Ann  Ar'bor  but  usually  the 
Ann' Arbor  high"school,  Battle  Creek'  but 
Bat' tie  Creek,  Mich'igan.  In  Tennessee  the 
frequent  use  of  the  word  as  an  attributive  has 
made  the  pronunciation  Ten"nessee'  general. 

II.  In  relation  to  a  given  geographical 
name,  people  are  necessarily  divided  into  two 
groups  of  nearly  equal  importance  ;  first  those 
living  at  or  near  the  place,  second  those  living 
some  distance  from  it  and  usually  constituting 
the  larger  part  of  the  population  of  the  coun- 
try. If  diversity  of  usage  arises  between 
these  two  classes  (see  below),  it  may  continue, 
or  one  usage  may  more  or  less  completely 
prevail  over  the  other.  In  the  case  of  a  large 
city,  whose  name  is  in  the  mouths  of  people 
in  all  parts  of  the  country,  any  local  tendency 
to  shift  is  usually  overwhelmed  by  the  general 
usage,  thus  even  natives  of  the  place  say 
Hei'delberg"  only  occasionally.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  the  local  class  extends  over  a  large 

3  Cf.  also  Bremerha'ven.  Gastein',  Hornisgrin'tle,Kaisers- 
lau'tern,  Kdtschenbro'da,  Mariaspring1 ',  Konigskron'  (palace 
in  Charlottenburg) . 

4  Rarely   if  town,  burg,  bury,  bora,    ville,  port,   ford, 
mouth,  -water,  land,fitld. 

5  Cf.  also   Three  Riv'ers,  Bowling  Green',  South  Bend' 
Pike's  Peak',  Iron  Moun'tain,  Forest  Glen',  Bryn  Mawr'. 


area,  for  example,  a  province  or  the  nation 
itself,  its  usage  will  generally  prevail :  Ost'- 
preussen  and  West'preussen.  The  local  usage 
will  ordinarily  prevail  also  in  the  case  of  a 
small  place,  which  is  seldom  mentioned  except 
by  people  who  live  in  or  near  it  or  who  have 
visited  there  and  have  thus  come  under  the 
influence  of  the  local  usage;  for  examples,  see 
below. 

The  development  of  diversity  of  usage  near 
and  away  from  a  place  may  be  illustrated  by  a 
concrete  case.  A  man  living  at  Osnabrack  or 
in  its  neighborhood,  hears  this  name  oftener 
than  all  other  names  of  towns  ending  in 
-brack;  hence  the  word  is  there  readily  under- 
stood even  when  the  chief  stress  has  been 
removed  from  the  first  member  to  the  last, 
and  it  will  rarely  be  necessary  to  bring  the 
stress  back  to  the  first  member.  But  distant 
places  having  the  same  ending  are  distin- 
guished by  being  stressed  on  the  first  member; 
and  this  is  just  the  way  the  people  distant 
from  Osnabriick  treat  that  name.  That  is,  in 
general,  a  place-name  ending  in  a  word  that  is 
a  common  ending  in  such  names,  is  likely  to 
be  stressed  on  the  second  member  in  and 
about  the  place,  and  on  the  first  member  away 
from  there.  This  is  particularly  true  of  small 
towns  and  cities  (cf.  above) :  most  Germans 
would  say  Biick'eburg,  R'adeberg,  Il'senburg, 
Lan'gebriick,  I'serlohn,  Lang'enau,  Blau'teu- 
ren,Bern'burg,El'berfeld,  Maul'bronn,  Heil'- 
bronn,  Pa'derborn,  Ol'desloe,  Gros'senhain, 
Stei'nenberg  (hill  near  Tiibingen},  etc.;  but 
the  inhabitants  and  threir  neighbors,  as  well  as 
other  persons  who  have  come  under  the  in- 
fluence of  their  usage,  say  Biickeburg1,  Rade- 
berg' ,  Maulbronn' ,  Oldesloe',  etc.;  Spring 
Lake',  Forest  Grove',  Yates  Cit'y,  Cripple 
Creek' ,  Labrador' ,  Syracuse' ,  Meriden' ,  Ches 
sening' ,  New  Orleans' ,  Newfoundland' ,  etc., 
though  people  at  a  distance  say  Crip'ple 
Creek,  Lab'rador,  New  Or' leans,  Newfound'- 
land  (in  the  States)  or  New"foundland'  (in 
England). 

III.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  names  -of  a 
number  of  places  in  the  same  neighborhood 
end  alike,  it  will  generally  (see,  however,  be- 
low) be  necessary  to  stress  the  first  member  in 
order  to  make  sure  which  of  several  possible 
places  is  meant ;  thus  the  need  of  distinguish- 


118 


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238 


ing  the  adjoining  states  East  Saxony,  West 
Saxony  and  South  Saxony,  led  to  the  placing 
of  a  heavy  stress  on  the  first  member  and  the 
eventual  slurring  of  the  second:  Es'sex,  Sus'- 
sex ;  for  the  same  reason  the  many  Thurin- 
gian  names  in  -leben  are  even  there  generally 
stressed  on  the  first  member,  and  the  natives 
of  Stralsund  stress  the  name  of  their  city  on 
the  first  syllable  to  distinguish  the  word  from 
the  names  of  the  various  sounds  on  the  Baltic. 
But  as  the  name  Stralsund  alone  is  generally 
known  in  Germany,  it  is  stressed  on  the  second 
syllable  by  most  Germans.  So,  too,  Greifs- 
wald  is  stressed  Greifs'wald  at  home  in  dis- 
tinction from  the  names  of  local  words,  but  as 
there  are  comparatively  few  names  of  large 
towns  with  the  ending  -wald,  the  name  is 
generally  stressed  Greifswald'  in  other  parts 
of  Germany.  Similarly  Baden  Baden  (that  is, 
the  city  Baden  in  the  state  Baden)  is  by  Baden 
people  stressed  Ba'dtn  Baden  in  distinction 
from  other  places  in  the  state  Baden ;  other 
people,  in  whose  minds  the  state  Baden  is  not 
a  constant  psychological  subject,  think  of 
Baden  Baden  as  one  name  and  often  allow 
the  chief  stress  to  shift  to  the  second  member: 
Baden  Bo' den. 

But  even  in  the  same  neighborhood  place- 
names  that  have  the  same  ending  may  receive 
the  chief  stress  on  the  second  member.  This 
is  generally  true  of  names  whose  second 
member  contains  more  than  one  syllable,  the 
first  of  which  is  long,6  and  whose  first  member 
contains  more  than  one  syllable,  so  that  its 
stressed  syllable  is  separated  from  the  stressed 
syllable  of  the  second  member  by  at  least  one 
weaker  syllable.  In  these  cases  the  physical 
tendency  to  shift  the  stress  is  particularly 
strong,  and  the  secondary  stress  on  the  first 
member  is  heavy  enough  to  make  that  member 
distinct.  Similarly,  such  names  as/^'waand 
Wenigenje'na,  Sag'inaw  and  East  Sag'inaw 
are  in  themselves  so  different  that  there  is  no 
need  of  stressing  them  differently  unless  a 
distinct  contrast  is  in  mind. 

Moreover,  people  of  the  locality  often  find 
it  necessary  to  distinguish  between  such  names 
as  O'berloquitz  and  Un'terloquitz,  Gross' her- 
ingen  and  Klein' heringen,  and  the  like,  as 

6  For  example,  -firde,  -hausen,  -roiia,  -waldt,  -tveiler, 
-werdtr. 


between  Alt'stadt  and  Neu'stadt,  Ost'preus- 
sen  and  West'preussen,  Nord'deutscAtandand 
SM'deutschland.  But  at  a  distance  from  one 
of  these  localities,  the  first  member  is  less 
distinctive  than  the  second,  for  there  are 
many  places  beginning  with  Ober-,  Unter-, 
Nieder-,  Gross-,  Ost-,  Nord-,  etc.  Moreover, 
while  the  names  of  the  pair  are  known  and 
used  locally,  often  only  one  of  the  two  is 
known  in  the  country  at  large  (this  is  true,  for 
example,  of  Oberammergau  and  Unteram- 
mergau  and  of  the  many  words  in  Hohen-, 
the  little  town  below  the  castle  being  com- 
paratively insignificant).  Hence  distinctness 
as  well  as  rhythm  demand  that  the  stress  be 
placed  on  the  second  member.  Unless  a  con- 
trast is  intended,  we  usually  hear:  Gross- 
britan'nien,  Kleina'sien,Nordame'rika,  Ostin'- 
dien,  Ostfries'land,  Oberamfmergait,Neubran'- 
denburg,  Hohenlo'he  -twiel',  etc.  (but  Ho'- 
henstein,  for  Hohenstein'  would  suggest  hohen 
Stein),  Altbrei"sach,  Altgrie'chenland;  Great 
Brit'ain,  South  Amer'ica,  East  In'dia,  North- 
amp' ton,  New  Eng'land,  Old  Mis'sion,  Nova 
Sco'tia,  Lower  Can'ada,  etc. 

The  local  usage  of  Unt'erwalden,  Nie'der- 
wald,  die  Nie'derlande,  Nord'deutschland, 
O'berdeutschland,  Ost'-  and  West'preussen;  the 
Netherlands,  the  High' lands,  Nor'folk  and 
Suffolk,  West"  Bay  Cify,  and  a  few  more. 
Similarly,  Ostgoten,  Ostfranken,  Rhcinfran- 
ken,  etc.,  generally  have  the  chief  stress  on 
the  first  member;  for  when  that  member  is 
expressed  there  is  usually  a  contrast  in  mind. 

When  a  person  learns  that  the  local  pro- 
'  nunciation  is  different,  in  stress  or  in  the 
value  of  the  letters,  from  what  he  has  been 
accustomed  to,  he  may  despise  it  as  dialectic, 
as  some  North  Germans  do  in  the  case  of 
Wiesbaden  with  ie=t  and  of  Dresden  with  the 
stressed  e  open  as  well  as  long,  and  as  some 
Americans  do  in  the  case  of  names  like  Ala- 
bama with  the  stressed  a  as  in  am  and  of 
Battle  Creek  with  ce=l.  A  few  years  ago  the 
railway  sign  Sessenheim  was  changed  to  Ses- 
enheim,  to  conform  to  the  spelling  established 
in  Goethe  literature.  Such  names  as  Trois- 
dorf  and  Duisbitrg  are  so  often  pronounced 
with  a  diphthong  by  railway  guards,  etc.,  that 
this  pronunciation  may  prevail.  Prof.  Boic- 
horst  has  quite  given  up  calling  himself  Bok- 


119 


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240 


horst.  But  the  local  pronunciation,  once 
learned,  is  apt  to  be  insisted  upon  as  the  only 
'correct'  one.  This  tendency  is  manifest  in 
some  books  on  pronunciation  and  on  geogra- 
phy. It  is,  perhaps,  proper  enough  to  teach 
the  local  usage  in  those  cases  in  which  the 
current  spelling  does  not  properly  represent 
the  pronunciation,  and  people  who  see  the 
word  oftener  than  they  hear  it  are  left  without 
guidance  or  are  mislead.  This  is  the  case  in 
such  names  as  Mecklenburg,  Schwedt,  Bors- 
dorf,  Uelzen  with  long  it,  Itzehoe'  with  oe—d, 
Duisburg  with  «*=long  u,  Ypern  with  y=a\, 
Zuidersee  with  Z=z  and  ui—o\,  Calw  with 
w=P,  Chur  with  Cn—k,  etc.;  Guilford  with 
ui=1,  Arkansas  and  Mackinac  to  rime  with 
saw  and  having  the  chief  stress  on  the  first 
syllable,  Chicago  with  Ch—sh  and  a  as  in  all, 
Greenwich  with  ee—l  or  2,  w  silent,  and  c/i—j 
in  joy,  Carrolton,  Mich.,  with  a  as  in  car  and 
ro  silent,  Marlboro,  Mass.,  with  the  first  r 
and  the  first  o  silent  and  a  usually  as  in  all, 
Leicester  with  eic  silent,  Glasgow  with  s=z, 
Southwark  identical  with  '  southern '  but  for 
final  k  and  n.  Most  of  these  diversities  would 
disappear  if  the  orthography  were  better,  and 
we  have  not  given  up  faith  in  ultimate  im- 
provement in  this  matter.  But  where  the 
diversity  of  usage  is  due  to  the  nature  of 
things,  that  is,  the  fact  that  the  local  popula- 
tion maintaines  toward  the  word  a  different 
attitude  from  that  maintaitned  by  the  outside 
world,  it  will  in  most  cases  be  found  to  be  a 
vain  as  well  as  needless  task  to  attempt  to 
establish  uniformity.  This  applies  chiefly  to 
the  matter  of  stress  as  illustrated  above. 
When  one  learns  that  a  very  large  number  of 
German  compound  geographical  names  are 
locally  stressed  on  the  last  syllable,  but  else- 
where almost  universally  on  the  first,  he  will 
perceive  that  it  is  rather  small  business  to 
search  out  a  few  of  them— like  Radeberg, 
Bernburg,  Grossenhain,  or  Iserlohn — and  find 
much  satisfaction  in  acquiring  that  accentua- 
tion. 

GEORGE  HEMPL. 
University  of  Michigan. 


EMILIA  GALOTTI. 

Emilia  Galotti,  Tragodie  von  G.  E.  Lessing. 
With  Introduction  and  Notes  by  O.  B.  SUPER, 


Ph.   D.      New  York:    Henry   Holt  &   Co. 
1894. 

Emilia  Galotti,  Ein  Trauerspiel  in  fiinf  Aufzii- 
gen  von  Gotthold  Ephraim  Lessing.  With 
Introduction  and  Explanatory  Notes  by  MAX 
POLL,  Ph.  D.  Boston  :  Ginn  &  Co.  1895. 

Lessing' s  Emilia  Galotti,  Edited  with  an  In- 
troduction and  Notes  by  MAX  WINKLER, 
Ph.  D.  Boston  :  D.  C.  Heath  &  Co.  1895. 

Two  years  ago  Professor  Super  published  an 
edition  of  Emilia  Galotti,  a  reprint  of  an 
earlier  edition,  but  with  the  notes  rewritten 
and  an  introduction  added.  The  latter  is 
merely  a  short  sketch  of  the  author's  career 
and  works,  with  the  plot  of  the  tragedy  a- 
bridged  from  Sime's  Life  of  Lessing,  and  the 
notes  are  simply  translations  of  words  and 
phrases.  As  an  evident  misprint  may  be 
noted  von  dem  Allem,  p.  23,  repeated  on  p.  71; 
and  in  the  outline  of  the  plot  the  statement 
that  the  prince,  after  his  first  interview  with 
Marinelli,  "goes  at  once"  to  Dosalo  is  not 
accurate.  The  edition  is  really  of  value  simply 
as  a  convenient  text  and  does  not  pretend  to 
any  critical  merit. 

Of  entirely  different  character  are  two  sub- 
sequent editions  of  the  same  drama,  the  one 
by  Dr.  Max  Poll  of  Harvard,  and  the  other  by 
Professor  Winkler  of  the  University  of  Michi- 
gan. Both  editions  reprint  the  text  of  the 
Lachmann-Muncker  edition,  Stuttgart,  1886, 
but  with  modernized  spelling  and  punctuation. 
Both  have  a  bibliography,  a  scholarly  intro- 
duction and  valuable  critical  and  explanatory 
notes,  and  as  the  respective  editors  have 
worked  from  different  stand-points,  both  edi- 
tions demand  careful  consideration  from  every 
thoughtful  teacher  and  student  of  the  /drama. 

Dr.  Poll's  Introduction  deals  with  the  com- 
position and  sources  of  the  play,  giving,  with 
some  completeness,  the  results  of  Roethe's 
article  in  the  Vierteljahrschrift,  in  which  he 
compares  Lessing's  work  with  Crisp's  Vir- 
ginia* The  editor  then  defends  Lessing 
against  the  charge  of  having  violated  his  own 
critical  maxims,  and  takes  up  the  questions  of 
Emilia's  real  sentiment  toward  the  prince,  of 

i  Professor  Winkler  probably  did  not  notice  this  important 
article  in  time  for  his  Introduction,  for  he  only  alludes  to  it 
in  a  brief  note  added  at  the  end. 


120 


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242 


her  tragic  guilt  and  of  the  inevitable  necessity 
of  the  catastrophy.  In  these  three  points  he 
essentially  accepts  the  conclusions  of  Kuno 
Fischer  in  his  Lessing  als  Reformator  der 
deutschen  Literatur ;  that  is  to  say,  he  finds 
no  evidence  that  Emilia  secretly  loved  the 
prince,  he  regards  her  compliance  with  her 
mother's  wish  in  neglecting  to  inform  Appiani 
of  the  scene  in  the  church  as  her  tragic  guilt, 
and  considers  the  catastrophy  as,  at  the  mo- 
ment, the  only  possible  issue.  The  notes 
show  wide  and  careful  reading  and,  with 
occasional  translations,  explain  difficulties  of 
language  or  thought.  The  book  is  a  thoroughly 
good  piece  of  work. 

Professor  Winkler's  stand-point  differs  radi- 
cally from  that  of  the  edition  just  discussed. 
He  believes  that  Emilia  was  attracted  by  the 
prince's  personality, and  that  her  moral  will  was 
paralyzed  in  his  presence,  thus  making  the 
tragic  conflict  her  inability  to  obey  the  prompt- 
ings of  honor  and  of  duty.  So  far  he  essen- 
tially agrees  with  Erich  Schmidt,  but  not  so 
concerning  the  catastrophy.  Odoardo's  act 
he  considers  as  the  natural  result  of  the  un- 
balanced idealism  of  his  disposition  and  there- 
fore as  inevitable.  The  characterization  is  a 
well-matured  and  thoughtful  production.  Pro- 
fessor Winkler  also  specially  emphasizes  the 
influence  of  Diderot  in  determining  Lessing  to 
make  his  drama  a  "  trage"die  bourgeoise,"  in- 
stead of  following  Livy's  story  more  closely. 
The  notes  are  largely  critical,  dealing  in  many 
cases  with  the  dramatic  development,  and  are 
therefore  especially  interesting.  The  book 
merits  high  rank  in  the  excellent  series  to 
which  it  belongs. 

LEWIS  A.  RHOADES. 
Cornell  University. 


NEW    TEXT-BOOKS   IN  RHETORIC. 

The  Principles  of  Rhetoric.  By  Adams  Sher- 
man Hill.  New  edition,  revised  and  en- 
larged. Harper  &  Brothers,  New  York: 
1895,  pp.  x,  431. 

A  Handbook  of  English  Composition.  By 
James  Morgan  Hart.  Eldredge  &  Brothers, 
Philadelphia  :  1895,  pp.  xii,  360. 

IT  is  probable  that  no  two  teachers  of  English 
Composition,  certainly  among  those  who  have 


taught  long  enough  to  pass  through  the  stage 
of  imitation,  follow  precisely  the  same  method 
of  instruction.  This  wholesome  variety  of 
method  naturally  leads  to  one  result  that  is 
not  altogether  desirable, — the  multiplication 
of  text-books.  So  many  instructors  in  English 
Composition  have  apparently  felt  the  lack  of 
a  suitable  manual,  and  have  undertaken  to 
supply  that  lack,  that  there  are  now  text-books 
in  abundance,  suited  to  students  of  every  age, 
and  representing  many  methods  of  instruc- 
tion. 

The  books  named  above  are  the  rightful 
successors  of  books  that  have  been  so  long  in 
the  field  that  they  have  outlived  many  inferior 
works,  now  forgotten.  Each  book  is  the  fruit- 
age of  the  writer's  wide  experience  as  a 
teacher  of  Rhetoric.  The  Principles  of  Rhet- 
oric, by  Professor  Adams  S.  Hill,  appeared  in 
1878 ;  after  seventeen  years  of  use  in  the  class 
room  it  re-appears,  "newly  revised  and  en- 
larged to  almost  as  much  again  as  it  was." 
Professor  Hart's  Handbook  of  English  Com- 
position, though  a  new  work,  is  written  to 
take  the  place  of  a  book  by  the  father  of  the 
author, — a  book  which  has  been  widely  used 
for  nearly  twenty-five  years,  and  which  many 
teachers  of  to-day  remember  as  the  guide  by 
whose  aid  they  were  initiated  into  the  mys- 
teries of  English  Composition.  The  fact  that 
there  was  an  earlier  book,  though  it  is  no- 
where mentioned,  perhaps  accounts  for  the 
presence  in  the  later  book  of  certain  features 
which  are  not  commonly  found  in  handbooks 
of  English  Composition. 

•  When  the  first  edition  of  The  Principles  of 
Rhetoric  appeared  (in  1878),  the  treatises  of 
Campbell  and  Whately  were  still  in  general 
use  in  American  colleges :  and  there  need  be 
no  hesitation  in  saying  that  for  class-room  use, 
Professor  Hill's  book  was  clearly  an  advance 
upon  anything  that  had  hitherto  been  pub- 
lished in  English.  It  was  eminently  a  practical 
rhetoric, — a  title  that  has  since  been  claimed 
for  more  than  one  text-book.  For  seventeen 
years  The  Principles  of  Rhetoric  has  been 
tested  in  the  class  room ;  and,  admirable 
though  it  is,  the  book  has  been  found  deficient 
in  certain  directions.  The  best  evidence  of 
this  inadequacy  is  the  use  of  supplementary 
books;  for  example,  on  Exposition,  Argumen- 


121 


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244 


tation,  and  Theme-Writing,  that  have  been 
prepared  by  members  of  the  school  of  younger 
rhetoricians,  trained  in  Professor  Hill's  de- 
partment. 

Professor  Hill's  revision  of  his  book  has 
been  very  complete,  including  structure  as 
well  as  detail.  Sentences  have  been  remod- 
eled or  subjected  to  slight  modifications,  ex- 
amples have  been  transferred  to  rubrics  under 
which  they  fall  more  appropriately,  fresh  ex- 
amples have  been  introduced,  a  more  logical 
order  of  presentation  has  in  some  instances 
been  secured.  Only  a  close  reading  will  de- 
tect all  the  minute  changes  that  have  been 
made.  Indeed,  a  careful  comparison  of  the 
two  forms  of  the  book,  and  an  attempt  to 
discover  the  reason  that  prompted  every 
change  and  addition  in  the  revised  form  would 
be  an  admirable  training  for  a  class  of  ad- 
vanced students,  especially  for  such  as  intend 
to  become  teachers  of  rhetoric.  The  principal 
divisions  of  the  book  are  as  fpllows : — Good 
Use;  Violations  of  Good  Use;  Choice  of 
Words ;  Number  of  Words ;  Arrangement  of 
Words  ;  Description ;  Narration  ;  Exposition  ; 
Argument.  The  three  tests  of  rhetorical  ex- 
cellence,— clearness,  force,  and  ease, — have 
been  raised  into  greater  prominence ;  they 
are  now  applied  not  only  to  the  choice  of 
words,  but  also,  in  separate  sections,  to  the 
number  and  arrangement  of  words,  incident- 
ally to  paragraphs  and  whole  compositions, 
and,  wherever  applicable,  to  exposition  and 
argument.  During  the  discussion  of  sentences 
a  fourth  test  is  added;  namely,  unity:  and 
thenceforward  it  is  regarded  as  of  paramount 
importance.  A  welcome  addition  is  the  chap- 
ter on  Exposition.  Of  late  there  has  been  a 
tendency,  perhaps  unduly  emphasized,  to 
look  upon  college  students  as  future  writers 
of  novels  and  short  stories ;  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  for  one  college  graduate  who  does  imag- 
inative work  in  literature  at  least  ten  have  oc- 
casion to  do  expository  or  argumentative  writ- 
ing. The  treatment  of  argumentation  has  been 
entirely  remodeled,  and  has  been  strengthened 
with  new  illustrative  passages.  The  omission 
of  the  appendix  on  punctuation,  perhaps  the 
best  brief  treatment  of  the  subject,  is  unfor- 
tunate ;  occasional  reference  to  a  treatise  of 
this  kind  is  profitable,  even  for  college  stud- 


ents. 

In  the  forefront  of  Professor  Hart's  book 
(immediately  following  an  introductory  chap- 
ter of  less  than  two  pages)  are  three  chapters 
on  the  paragraph.  When  it  is  remembered 
that  the  earlier  Hart's  Rhetoric  had  no  treat- 
ment of  the  paragraph,  and  that  the  earlier 
edition  of  Professor  Hill's  book  gave  to  the 
subject  only  one  page,  such  a  procedure  can 
be  called  little  less  than  revolutionary.  Few 
who  have  been  out  of  college  for  as  many  as 
ten  years  have  ever  received  any  specific  in- 
struction in  paragraph-writing ;  now  we  have 
not  only,  as  might  be  expected  and  desired, 
dissertations  on  the  paragraph,  but  we  have 
also  text-books  devoted  solely  to  the  para- 
graph, and,  in  accordance  with  what  some 
regard  as  a  tendency  to  excessive  sub-division, 
we  have,  in  some  universities,  courses  in  Eng- 
lish Composition  given  up  entirely  to  the 
theory  and  practice  of  paragraph-writing. 

Following  this  tendency,  or,  perhaps,  lead- 
ing it,  Professor  Hart  introduces  the  student 
of  English  Composition  by  the  gate -way  of 
paragraph-writing.  His  reasons  for  this  pro- 
cedure he  states  succinctly  and  forcibly. 
Within  the  limits  of  the  paragraph  are  to  be 
found  well-nigh  all  the  difficulties  that  confront 
both  teacher  and  pupil.  Diction,  sentence 
structure,  unity,  sequence,  continuity,  nearly 
all  that  is  included  in  the  comprehensive  trio 
of  rhetorical  virtues, — clearness,  force  and 
propriety, — in,  fact,  all  the  essentials  of  good 
writing,  except  the  structure  of  larger  com- 
positions, "can  be  learned  through  the  para- 
graph." 

"Every  paragraph  gives  an  opportunity  for 
correcting  what  may  be  called  the  writer's 
chronic  faults.  .  .  .  Although  a  composition 
may  contain  three  or  four  times  as  many 
errors,  in  the  aggregate,  as  a  short  paragraph, 
it  will  not  contain  more  kinds  of  error  than  a 
short  paragraph  by  the  same  writer."  » 

It  may  be  added  that  the  frequent  preparation 
of  short  papers  is  advantageous, for  both  teach- 
er and  pupils.  While  two  or  three  weeks  may 
be  needed  to  correct  and  return  a  batch  of 
essays  of  ordinary  length,  a  day  or  two  may 
suffice  for  the  correction  of  a  set  of  papers  in 
which  the  writers  are  limited  to  a  single  page. 
This  consideration  deserves  attention,  especi- 
ally in  earlier  work,  in  which  it  is  desirable 


122 


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246 


that  papers  be  promptly  returned  in  order 
that  they  may  be  followed  by  fresh  papers. 
Another  advantage,  in  addition  to  that  of 
prompt  criticism,  is  the  fact  that  students  are 
trained  from  the  outset  to  practice  compres- 
sion instead  of  that  dilution  of  thought  to 
which  they  are  only  too  prone. 

The  neglect  of  the  paragraph  by  writers  on 
rhetoric  is  curious  and  almost  unaccountable. 
The  first  formal  treatment  of  the  paragraph  in 
a  treatise  on  English  Composition  occurs  in 
Bain's  Manual  of  English  Composition  and 
Rhetoric,  published  in  1866.  Yet  the  subject 
was  slow  in  finding  its  way  into  text-books; 
even  now  only  a  small  number  of  text-books 
contain  an  adequate  treatment  of  it,  although 
for  more  than  a  century  paragraphs  have  been 
written  that  in  every  respect  serve  as  models 
to  the  student  of  to-day.  Writers  so  unlike 
in  character  and  in  style  as  Burke  and  Irving 
are  alike  in  excellence  of  paragraph  structure. 

By  a  natural  reaction  from  this  neglect,  the 
paragraph  plays  an  important  part  in  the 
rhetorical  teaching  of  to-day ;  indeed,  as  I 
have  already  intimated,  there  is  some  danger 
of  its  becoming  a  fad.  In  no  text-book  on 
rhetoric  has  the  paragraph  ever  been  pushed 
into  such  prominence  as  in  that  of  Professor 
Hart.  In  Professor  Hill's  book,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  subject  is  reduced  to  very  small 
dimensions ;  it  is  not  mentioned  until  page 
230  is  reached,  and  the  treatment  is  confined 
to  eight  pages,  nearly  five  of  which  are  made 
up  of  examples.  The  discussion  is  excellent, 
for  Professor  Hill  has,  to  an  enviable  degree, 
the  faculty  of  packing  much  thought  into  few 
words.  In  his  elementary  book,  The  Foun- 
dations of  Rhetoric  (published  in  1892),  twenty 
pages  are  given  to  the  paragraph ;  otherwise 
one  might  suspect  that  it  is  with  reluctance 
that  Professor  Hill  has  allowed  himself  to  be 
drawn  into  the  current.  While  his  judgment 
may  lead  him  to  resist  a  tendency  which  is 
perhaps  carried  too  far,  yet  his  treatment  of 
the  subject  is  scarcely  adequate,  and  will  need 
to  be  supplemented  and  re-enforced  by  the 
teacher.  By  the  laws  of  proportion, — dis- 
cussed by  Professor  Hill  on  page  240, — eight 
pages,  out  of  a  total  of  four  hundred,  are 
insufficient  for  a  just  treatment  of  so  important 
a  topic ;  for  it  may  safely  be  affirmed  that  one 


who  can  write  a  good  paragraph  has, "to  a 
great  extent,  mastered  the  art  of  writing  well. 

Perhaps  the  amount  of  space  given  to  the 
topic  by  Professor  Hart  (forty  pages  out  of  the 
two  hundred  strictly  devoted  to  rhetoric)  is 
unduly  large;  but  this  consideration  is  of 
slight  importance  in  comparison  with  the 
question  whether  it  is  wise  to  begin  instruc- 
tion with  the  paragraph.  In  a  course  of  only 
three  months,  in  which  a  large  amount  of 
writing  must  be  done  as  speedily  as  possible, 
and  in  which  a  few  significant  features  must 
be  emphasized  to  the  exclusion  of  others  of 
less  importance,  one  might  have  little  hesita- 
tion about  following  the  plan  proposed  by 
Professor  Hart ;  but  in  the  course  of  two 
years  for  which  he  has  made  provision,  such 
haste  seems  scarcely  necessary.  The  ability 
to  write  good  paragraphs  implies  the  ability 
to  write  well-framed  sentences  in  well-chosen 
words ;  and  if  diction  and  sentence  structure 
have  not  been  considered,  it  is  scarcely  possi- 
ble to  confine  one's  criticism  to  violations  of 
the  principles  of  paragraph  structure.  A 
general  assault  all  along  the  line  may  some- 
times be  necessary  ;  but  a  gradual  approach, 
covered  by  sharpshooters,  is  usually  the  wiser 
method  of  attack. 

Professor  Hill's  view  as  to  the  province  of 
Rhetoric  apparently  does  not  permit  him  to 
give  any  heed  to  the  time-honored  division  of 
the  subject  into  Style  and  Invention.  Rhet- 
oric he  regards  as  the  art  of  expression,  and 
all  that  can  appropriately  be  treated  under 
the  rubric  of  style  he  sets  forth  in  admirable 
shape.  Professor  Hart  maintains  the  tradi- 
tional division,  though  with  the  addition  of 
new  material.  Thus  the  paragraph,  which  in 
Professor  Genung's  excellent  treatment  is 
included  under  Style,  is  placed  by  Professor 
Hart  under  Invention.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
the  paragraph  is  so  large  a  unit  of  discourse 
as  to  necessitate  treatment  under  both  style 
and  invention  ;  for  this  reason  it  is  well  suited 
to  serve  as  a  transition  between  the  two  di- 
visions. 

"Invention,"  says  Professor  Hart,  "does 
not  consist  in  finding  out  what  to  say ;  as  a 
rhetorical  process,  it  is  the  art  of  putting  to- 
gether what  one  has  to  say  upon  a  subject. " 
Under  this  heading  he  discusses  the  following 


123 


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248 


topics  : — the  Paragraph,  Narration,  Descrip- 
tion, Exposition,  and  Argumentation ;  topics 
that  Professor  Hill  finds  it  necessary  to  dis- 
cuss, whatever  may  be  his  theory  as  to  the 
province  of  rhetoric.  A  useful  chapter  is  that 
of  Professor  Hart's  on  "  Preparing  a  Com- 
position," which  treats  of  formulating  the 
subject  and  of  constructing  a  working  plan  or 
outline  of  the  discourse;  strangely  enough, 
this  chapter  is  not  included  in  Part  I,  which 
treats  of  Invention.  The  average  pupil  is  not 
inclined  to  undertake  the  labor  of  construct- 
ing an  outline,  even  though  the  device  is 
commonly  practiced  by  experienced  writers, 
and  is  directly  helpful  in  the  attainment  of 
clearness,  force,  ease,  and  unity.  Professor 
Hill  does  not  touch  upon  this  very  important 
topic ;  apparently  he  does  not  regard  it  as 
falling  within  the  province  of  rhetoric.  Un- 
doubtedly, like  Argumentation  and  Exposi- 
tion, it  falls  in  part  within  the  domain  of  logic. 
Yet  it  may  fairly  be  asked:  Who,  if  not  the 
teacher  of  rhetoric,  is  to  instruct  the  student 
in  this  very  important  topic,  which  he  is  so 
prone  to  neglect?  If  the  text-book  fails  to  treat 
of  the  subject,  the  deficiency  must  be  made 
good  by  the  teacher.  It  should  be  added  that 
both  books,  Professor  Hart's  more  explicitly, 
Professor  Hill's  more  subtly,  emphasize  the 
importance  of  proportion  and  of  structure. 
It  might,  perhaps,  be  objected  that  Professor 
Hart's  chapters  on  the  paragraph  and  on  the 
construction  of  an  outline  are  so  formal  in 
their  treatment  as  to  lead  to  a  mechanical 
habit  of  writing  on  the  part  of  the  pupil ;  but 
such  a  criticism  will  scarcely  be  made  by  the 
teacher  who  knows  how  direct  and  explicit 
instruction  in  these  matters  is  needed  by  the 
average  undergraduate  student. 

For  Elegance,  which  for  seventeen  years 
has  held  the  third  place  in  the  trio  of  rhetori- 
cal virtues,  Professor  Hill  has  substituted  the 
term  Ease.  It  is  difficult  to  decide  upon  a 
term  which  shall  connote  all  the  qualities  that 
are  intended  to  supplement  Clearness  and 
Force.  Professor  Hill  says  (p.  132)  that  ease 
is  "  the  quality  which  makes  language  agree- 
able," and  apparently  implies  that  in  order  to 
be  agreeable,  language  must  be  euphonious. 
That  verse  need  not  be  invariably  euphonious 
is  generally  admitted  ;  and  one  would  hesitate 


to  say  that  prose  which  is  fittingly  vigorous 
and  concise  is  lacking  in  any  quality  that  is 
appropriate.  Since  the  publication  of  Pro- 
fessor Wendell's  lectures  on  English  Compo- 
sition, there  has  been  a  disposition  to  broaden 
the  meaning  of  the  term  elegance  (perhaps, 
rather  to  re-establish  the  literal  signification  of 
the  term),  so  that  it  may  connote  language 
that  is  as  perfectly  adapted  as  possible  to  the 
thought,  be  the  expression  harsh  or  euphoni- 
ous. Elegance  is  thus  understood  to  be  the 
quality  which  satisfies  the  taste,  and  which, 
accordingly,  demands  a  close  correspondence 
between  language  and  thought.  Propriety 
might  seem  to  be  the  term  best  suited  to 
convey  this  meaning,  were  it  not  that  the  term 
is  commonly  restricted  to  mean  accuracy  in 
the  use  of  words.  Indeed,  Professor  Hart's 
treatment  of  the  fundamental  qualities  of  style 
is  divided  into  Clearness,  Force,  and  Pro- 
priety, though  the  last  term  is  made  to  include 
both  purity  of  diction  and  euphony. 

The  conservatism  of  the  one  writer,  the 
progressiveness  of  the  other, — radicalism, 
some  will  call  it, — appear  in  matters  of  detail, 
such  as  the  choice  of  words.  Thus  the  use  as 
verbs  of  suicide,  deed,  referee,  cable,  wire,  is 
frowned  upon  by  Professor  Hill,  is  defended 
by  Professor  Hart.  Of  the  so-called  cleft  in- 
finitive Professor  Hill  says  (p.  69): — "Although 
there  is  a  growing  tendency  to  use  this  con- 
struction, careful  writers  avoid  it."  Professor 
Hart  says  (p.  171): — "There  seems  to  be  no 
valid  objection  to  the  moderate  use  of  the 
cleft  infinitive,  especially  if  the  adverbial  ex- 
pression be  short  and  simple."  The  latter 
writer  has  the  courage  of  his  convictions  ;  for 
example,  "to  first  study"  (p.  251),  "to  truly 
know"  (p.  263),  "to  logically  convince"  (p. 
315).  Evidently,  those  whose  ears  are  offended 
by  the  construction  may  soon  be  a  hopeless 
minority.  Much  as  I  dislike  the  construction, 
I  cannot  feel  justified  in  waging  open  warfare 
upon  it,  or  in  doing  more  than  to  warn  pupils 
against  using  it  carelessly  and  unintelligently  ; 
indeed,  in  the  expression  "enough  to  more 
than  justify,"  used  recently  in  an  address,  I 
am  not  disposed  to  suggest  any  alteration. 

One  might  question  the  wisdom  of  inserting 
in  the  body  of  the  text  remarks  to  teachers, 
such  as  are  occasionally  to  be  found  in  Pro- 


124 


249 


April,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


250 


fessor  Hart's  book.  The  principal  criticism 
to  be  made,  however,  is  that  the  author  has 
undertaken  too  much.  Indeed,  he  frankly 
admits  (p.  263)  that  the  function  of  the  book  is 
strictly  at  an  end  with  Part  III.  Part  IV 
contains  a  chapter  on  Poetry,  one  on  Metre, 
one  on  Oratory  and  Debate  (with  a  slightly 
modified  treatment  this  chapter  might  have 
been  included  in  Part  I),  and  one  on  the 
History  of  the  English  Language.  In  this 
attempt  at  comprehensiveness,  the  earlier 
book  is  followed ;  and  these  features  will 
doubtless  help  to  win  acceptance  for  the  new 
book  in  some  quarters.  The  writer  says  that 
it  has  been  his  "  endeavor  to  make  the  book 
available  both  for  school  and  for  college" 
(italics  are  the  writer's).  In  this  difficult  un- 
dertaking he  has,  perhaps,  succeeded  as  well 
as  any  one  could  succeed ;  the  book  will  meet 
the  needs  of  many  schools  and  of  some  col- 
leges. The  more  advanced  treatment  of  Pro- 
fessor Hill's  book  is  better  suited  to  students 
who  have  some  maturity  of  mind,  and  who 
have  had  a  good  elementary  training  in  Eng- 
lish Composition. 

HERBERT  EVELETH  GREENE. 
Johns  Hopkins  University. 


CORRESPONDENCE. 


MIRACLE    PLAYS. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS  : — In  your  issue  for  February,  Prof.  E. 
G.  Bourne  makes  the  following  rather  re- 
markable statement, with  reference  to  the  ear- 
liest presentation,  of  miracle  plays : 

"  So  far  as  I  have  noticed,  the  historians  of 
the  drama  do  not  find  positive  proof  of  the 
presentation  of  miracle  plays  earlier  than  the 
thirteenth  century." 

Now, Prof.  Bourne  must  surely  have  overlooked 
at  least  three  of  the  best  and  best  known  au- 
thorities on  this  subject.  By  referring  to  either 
Klein,1  or  ten  Brink,2  or  Creizenachs  he  could 
easily  have  found  the  most  positive  proof  of 
their  earlier  presentation  among  several  of  the 

i  Geschichte  des  Dramas,  iii-iv,  Leipzig,  1866,  1874. 
t  Geschichte  der  englischen  Litttratur,    ii,   Strassburg, 
1893. 
3  Geschichte  des  netttren  Dramas,  i,  Halle,  1893. 


leading  nations  of  that  era,  but,  of  course,  not 
in  Italy.  Prof.  Bourne  seems  to  be  under  the 
impression  that  modern  historians  of  the 
drama  consider  Italy  the  home  of  miracle 
plays  or  of  geistliche  Spiele  in  general !  Of 
course,  it  is  mere  presumption  in  me  to  call  at- 
tention to  the  fact,  well  known  to  all  who  are 
acquainted  with  the  historical  development 
of  the  modern  drama,  that  Italy  stands  prob- 
ably fourth  in  chronological  order  in  the  devel- 
opment and  presentation  of  miracle  and  mys- 
tery plays.  However,  I  hope  I  may  be  par- 
doned for  giving  a  few  passages  here  from  the 
authors  mentioned  above,  which  bear  directly 
on  the  point  in  question. 

But,  first,  as  to  "  Bishop  Liutprand's  narra- 
tive of  his  embassy  to  Constantinople  in  968," 
Creizenach  says  (p.  355  f.) : 

"Auch  aus  dem  Gebiete  des  ostromischen 
Reiches  hat  sich  kein  einziges  Werk  erhalten, 
das  als  geistliches  Drama  im  eigentlichen  Sin- 
ne  des  Wortes  zu  bezeichnen  ware.  Doch 
scheint  es,  dass  auch  dort  mitunter  Auffuhr- 
ungen  von  geistlichen  Dramen  in  der  Kirche 
stattfanden.  Ausfiihrlichere  Bericht  iiber 
solche  Dramen  sind,  soviel  ich  weiss,  nicht 
vorhanden." 

In  a  foot-note  (p.  356)  to  the  last  sentence  he 
remarks : 

"Wenn  Liutprand  in  dem  Berichte  iiber  seine 
Gesandtschaftsreise  968  erzahlt,  dass  die  G  rie- 
chen  am  20.  Juli  die  Himmelfahrt  desEliasmit 
scenischen  Spielen  feierten  (MonuntentaGerm. 
Scriptt.  3,  353  f.),  so  geht  aus  seinen  Worten 
nicht  mit  Bestimmtheit  hervor,  dass  er  Auffiihr- 
ungen  in  der  Kirche  meinte." 

In  regard  to  "religious  plays"  in  Greek 
literature,  Creizenach  says  further  in  this  con- 
nection (p.  356,  and  note  2) : 

"  Die  geistlichen  Dichtungen  in  dialogischer 
Form  welche  die  mittelgriechische  Litteratur 
aufzuweisen  hat,  sind  ohne  Zweifel  als  Buch- 
dramen  zu  betrachten.  Das  eine  die  Zr/^ot 
e/5  rov  Addfj.  des  Diakons  Ignatios  (c.  820)  be- 
handelt  im  143  Trimetern  den  Siindenfall.  Das 
andere,  der  leidende  Christus  (XpufroS  itd.6- 
X&r),  von  einem  unbekannten  Dichter  wahr- 
scheinlich  im  n.  oder  12.  Jahrhundert  verfasst, 
ist  eine  geschmacklose  Kiinstelei4  Vgl.  zu 
dem  Obigen  die  Darstellung  in  Krumbachers 
Geschichte  der  byzantinischen  Litteratur, 
Miinchen,  1891 ;  besonders  S.  296,  348,  356  ff. 
Sathas,  hat  eine  ausfuhrliche  Monographic 

4  For  a  detailed  description  of  this  piece,  cf.  Klein,  iii, 
599  ff 


251 


April,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


252 


iiber  das  byzantinische  Theater  verfasst  (Idro- 
PIHOV  SoHimov  Ttspl  TOV  Ssdrpov  Hal  Trj<a 
juovdtnrfS  T(£V  Bv^avrivoav,  Venedig,  1879), 
die  indes,  wie  Krumbacher  mit  Recht  bemerkt, 
den  Leser  nur  in  dem  Glauben  an  die  Dram- 
enlosigkeit  der  byzantinischen  Zeit  bestiirken 
.  kann?' 

As  to  the  origin  of  geistliche  Spiele,  we 
find  the  following  in  Klein,  iv,  p.  12.  Cf. 
Creizenach,  p.  47  f. 

"Als  die  altestengottesdienstlichen.vpn  Geist- 
Hchen  in  den  Kirchen  dialogisch  recitirten  u. 
gesungenen  Mysteriendramen  gelten  bis  jetzt 
die  vier.nebst  noch  sechs  andern,  von  Mon- 
merque'  fur  die  Gesellschaft  der  Bibliophilen 
herausgebenen  Mysterien  aus  dem  11.  Jahr- 
hundert,  in  lateinischer  Sprache :  Die  Mys- 
terie  von  den  Magiern ;  vom  Betlehemit. 
Kindermord  ;  von  der  Auferstehung,  und  die 
von  der  Erscheinung  in  Emaus." 

Further  on  p.  14  Klein,  in  speaking  of  Miracle 
plays  in  the  strict  sense,  says  : 

"  Um  zwei  Jahrhundert  mindesten  gehen  die 
aus  der  heiligen  Legende  entsprossenen 
Mirakelspiele  den  bekannt  friihesten  Myste- 
riendramen voran.  Schon  das  10.  Jahrh.  hat 
uns  in  dem  Wunder-  und  Bekehrungsspiel  der 
Nonne  Hroswitha  diese  Dramengattung  in 
ihrer  vollen  Bliithe  gezeigt ;  als  eine  classiche 
Nachbliithe  und  als  die  Schliisselblumen  zu- 
gleich  des  kunftigen  Mirakelrlors.  Das  nach 
Hroswitha's  Legendendramen  nachstalteste 
Mirakelspiel  von  der  heil.  Catharina,  das 
jener,  nach  England  an  die  Klosterschule  von 
Saint-Alban  berufene  Godofredus  aus  der 
Normandie  zu  Dunstaple  in  anglo-norman- 
nischer  (franzosischer)  Sprache  verfasste  und 
daselbst  von  seinen  Schiilern  auffiihren  Hess, 

fallt  in  den  Anfang  des  12.  Jahrh.  (mo) 

Doch  war  Geoffrey's  (Gpdsfredus)  Mirakel- 
spiel vpn  der  heil.  Catharina  keiryeswegs  das 
erste  in  England.  Vielmehr  wurden  den 
Guilelmus  Stephens  zu  folge,  welcher  ein 
halbes  Jahrh.  vor  Math.  Paris  schrieb,  schon 
vor  Geoffroy's  Mirakel  der  heil.  Catharina 
dergleichen  Spiel  aus  dem  Leben  der  Heili- 
gen, aber  allem  Anscheine  nach,  in  latein- 
ischer Sprache  dargestellt."5 

Creizenach  has  given  in  Book  ii  of  vol.  i,  a 
very  interesting  and  exhaustive  description  of 
the  origin  and  development  of  these  plays  in 
France,  beginning  with  the  eleventh  century. 
Moreover,  Davidson6  has  not  only  made  a 
very  interesting  and  thorough  study  of  re- 
ligious plays  of  all  sorts,  tracing  their  his- 

5  Cf.  also  Morley,  English  Writtrs,  iii,  p.  104  f.   London, 
1895.     Creizenach,  i,  p.  157  f.;  ten  Brink,  p.  247  f. 

6  Studies  in  the  English  Mystery  Plays,  by  Charles  David- 
son.   Yal«  University,  1892. 


torical  development  among  different  peoples, 
but  he  has  also  reprinted  three  of  these  plays 
in  part ;  namely,  the  Freising  (Tenth  century), 
Orleans  (Twelfth  century)  and  Rouen  (Four- 
teenth century). 7 

Ten  Brink  says8  with  regard  to  the  early 
presentation  of  miracle  plays  in  England : 

"  In  der  zweiten  Halfte  des  zwolften  Jahrhun- 
derts  begann  man  in  England  Mirakelspiele 
auch  offentlich  vor  allem  Volk  aufzufiihren." 

Klein,  ten  Brink  and  Creizenach  all  show 
quite  conclusively  that  these  plays,  originating 
in  France,  were  thence  transplanted  into  Eng- 
land, Germany,  Spain,  and  Italy,  and  that, 
too,  mainly  through  the  medium  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church.  They  are  first  heard  of  in 
Italy,  as  Prof.  Bourne  quoting  Ebert  correctly 
says,  in  1244,9  in  Spain,  but  only  in  their  oldest 
and  simplest  form,  in  the  eleventh  century. '» 
There  are  very  few  remains  des  mittelalter- 
lich  gerstlichen  Dramas  in  Scandinavian  lit- 
erature. Nevertheless  says  Creizenach  (p. 
35o), 

"hat  sich  ein  schwedisches  Marienmirakel 
erhalten ;  die  Handschrift  wird  in  die  zweite 
Halfte  des  14.  Jahrhunderts  gesetzt." 

"Unter  den  slavischen  Volkern  sind  die 
Czechen  die  einzigen,  bei  denen  sich  geistliche 
Spiele  aus  dem  Mittelalter  erhalten  haben  " 
(cf.  p.  351  f.). 

We  thus  see  that  the  "interesting  question" 
of  the  independent  development  of  the  miracle 
plays  among  different  peoples  has  long  since 
become  a  subject  of  consideration  for  his- 
torians of  dramatic  literature,  and  of  these 
latter  both  Klein  and  Creizenach  are  of  the 
opinion  that  these  plays  had  their  origin  on 
French  soil  and  spread  thence  principally 
through  religious  influence  over  all /rivilized 
Europe  (cf.  Creizenach,  pp.  356-361). 

WM.  H.  HULME. 

Western  Reserve  University. 


GERMAN  w-  INTO  FRENCH  gu-. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 
SIRS  : — The  fact  is  generally  acknowledged 

7  Cf.  Davidson,  p.  247. 

8  P. 247. 

9  Creizenach,  p.  300. 

10  Creiz.,  p.  346. 


126 


253 


April,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


254 


that  phonetic  changes  are  due  for  the  most 
part  to  imperfect  imitation  on  the  part  of  a 
speaker  when  he  attempts  to  enunciate  a  new 
sound.  The  development  treated  in  the  ac- 
companying note  is  an  illustration  of  this 
principle.  It  is  well  known  that  since  the 
French  speech-system  possessed  no  element 
corresponding  to  the  German  w,  the  effort 
was  successfully  made  to  approximate  the  bi- 
labial nature  of  the  sound  by  prefixing  to 
the  latter  a g.  Hence  WAD>,  gue,  WERRA> 
guerre,  wARNjAN>£#arwzV,  etc.  This  state- 
ment is  undoubtedly  correct.  The  question 
may  arise,  however:  Why  should  g  have 
been  chosen  in  preference  to  other  consonants 
(notably  the  labials)  which,  when  placed  before 
the  w  would  have  served  equally  well  to 
facilitate  its  pronunciation?  I  have  not  found 
this  query  asked  or  answered  in  any  of  the 
bibliography  at  my  disposal,  and,  in  lieu  of  the 
lack  of  information  on  the  point,  I  offer  the 
following  suggestion,  the  simplicity  of  which 
forms  its  chief  claim  to  consideration. 

The  combination  of  an  initial  consonant  fol- 
lowed by  a  half-vocalic  «  existed  in  French 
before  the  importation  into  the  latter  language 
of  any  German  words.  This  combination  de- 
rived from  Latin  qu-,  as  in  quant,  qualite, 
quel,  etc.  Such  words  as  these  were  doubtless 
in  the  minds  of  the  French  speakers  at  the 
time  of  the  introduction  of  the  German  w, 
and  in  chosing  a  consonant  to  add  to  the 
latter,  a  g  was  naturally  the  first  to  occur  to 
the  Gauls,  because  not  only  would  this  g  avail 
in  preserving  the  German  w,  but  a  still 
stronger  reason,  perhaps,  for  selecting  g  was 
furnished  by  the  fact  that  gu-  formed  a  voiced 
combination  corresponding  to  the  voiceless 
qu-  and  thus  satisfied  the  well-known  pho- 
netic tendency  in  language  that  gives  us  cor- 
responding voiced  and  voiceless  combinations. 
Another  phonetic  reason  that  influenced  the 
selection  of  gu  by  the  side  of  this  qu  may 
have  been  the  following:  The  French  of  to- 
day are  unable  to  reproduce  the  bilabial  w 
which  English-speaking  people  use;  they  re- 
place this  w  by  a  half-vocalic  u,  very  noticeable 
in  words  borrowed  from  the  English ;  as, 
tramway,  which  in  the  Parisian  pronunciation, 
is  generally  modified  to  tramoue.  The  same 
difficulty  in  imitation  may  have  been  encount- 


ered at  the  time  of  the  adoption  of  the  Ger- 
man w.  The  //  of  Latin  qu-  was  doubtless 
given  a  half-vocalic  value  in  Gaul  ;^  conse- 
quently Gauls  were  predisposed  to  hear  the 
German  w  as  half-consonantal.  In  the  en- 
deavor to  fix  this  sound  by  placing  before  it  a 
consonant,  a  g  may  have  been  suggested,  not 
only  from  analogy  to  qu-,  but  because  for  the 
formation  of  the  u  the  back  portion  of  the 
tongue  was  raised  very  near  the  section  of  the 
palate  where  a^  was  formed,  and  only  a  little 
further  approach  toward  this  section  sufficed 
to  produce  the  g. 

L.  EMIL  MENGER. 
Johns  Hopkins  University. 


RAPHAEL'S  POESY  AND  POESY  IN 

FAUST. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MQD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS: — Since  the  publication  of  my  article 
on  Raphael's  Poesy  and  Poesy  in  Faust  in 
your  February  issue,  I  have  received  some  lines 
from  Dr.  A.  Fresenius  of  the  Goethe  Archiv 
in  Weimar  that  may  interest  your  readers.  In 
the  first  place,  he  communicates  to  me  the  fol- 
lowing note  from  Dr.  C.  Ruland,  director  of 
the  Goethe-National-Museum  : 

Goethe  besass  von  Raphael's  Poesie 

(1)  eine  kleine  leidlich  unbedeutende  Copie 
in  Ol,  die  im  Urbino-Zimmer  hangt ; 

(2)  eine  sehr  schone  grosse   Zeichnung  des 
Kopfes  allein  von  W.  Tischbein  (liegt  in  den 
Mappen  der  Sammlung  der  Handzeichnungen). 

In  the  second  place,  he  calls  attention  to  the 
frequent  mention  of  Raphael's  Poesy  by  Goe- 
the's friend  and  collaborator,  Heinrich  Meyer 
in  the  Propylaeen.'1 

While  this  information  further  specifies  and 
corroborates  my  assumption  of  Goethe's 
thorough  familiarity  with  Raphael's  Poesy,  it 
tends  to  show,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  use  I 
suppose  him  to  have  made  of  it  was  thoroughly 
original. 

In  conclusion,  permit  me  to  avail  myself  of 
this  chance  to  correct  a  misprint  which  has 
crept  into  my  article.  Col.  112,  1.  20,  read 
Schroeer  instead  of  'Schroeder.' 

A.  GERBER. 
Earlham  College. 

i  Bd.  i.  Stuck  i,  pp.  no,  111,112;  Stlick  2,  pp.  113, 136, 
148. 


127 


255 


April,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  4. 


256 


JOURNAL  NOTICES. 
ZEITSCHRIFT  FUER  ROMANISCHE  PHILOLOGIE, 

herausgegeben  von  Dr.  Gustav  Grb'ber.  XIX.  BAND 
(1895),  I.  U.  2.  HEFT.— Con  tents:  Priebsch,  J.,  Alt- 
spanisc'he  Glossen.—  Dresclnl,  V.-Bios,  A.,  Un  Fram- 
mento  Provenzale  a  Conegliano.— Cohn,  0.,  Zum  Ur- 
sprunge  von  abo(s)me.  -Marchot,  P.— Encore  la  Ques" 
tion  de-arius.— Horning,  A.,  Fr.  gesse;  faire.— Lleber- 
in  an  n,  F.,  Eine  Anglonormannische  Uebersetzung  des 
12.  Jahrhunderts  von  Articuli  Willelmi,  Leges  Ead- 
wardi  und  Genealogia  Normannorum.—Klrlch,  J.,  Eine 
Altlothringiscbe  Uebersetzung  des  Dionysius  Cato.— 
Becker,  Ph.  Aug.,  Eine  Unbeachtete  Ausgabe  von 
Jean  Lemaires  Temple  cTHonneur  et  de  Verlu. — Meyer- 
Lucbke,  W.,  Etymologien.— Marchot,  P.,  Etymologies 
Fransaises  et  Dialectales.— Horning,  A.,  Franzb'sische 
Etymologien.— Suchier,  H.,  Bagatelle.— YVeymann,  e. 
quamente.— Foerster.W.,  Altfrz.  rnes.— Ko\ln,G.,Aliscans 
(bespr.Ph.  Aug.Becker).— Huguet,  Etude  sur  la  Syntaxe 
de  Rabelais  (bespr.  H.  Schneegans).— Zeitschriften,  u. 
s.  W.— Gessner,  E.,  Das  Spanisehe  Indefinite  Pronomen. 
— Horning,  A. — Die  Suffice  -iccus,  -dccus  -uccus  im  Fran- 
zSsischen.— Fuhrken,  G.  E.,  De  David  li  Prophecfe.— 
I'lricli.  J.,  Flore  di  VirtO,.— Becker,  Ph.  Aug.,  Nach- 
trftge  zu  Jean  Lemaire.— Stiefel,  A.  L.,  Calderons  Lust- 
spiel  La  Dama  Duende  und  Seine  Quelle.  — Sticfel,  A.  L., 
Eine  Deutsche  Parallelle  zum  Italienischen  und  Eng- 
lischen  Mysterium  Uber  die  Verheerung  der  Hfille.— 
Settegast,  F.,  Die  Bildung  der  1.  PI.  Prs.  Ind.  im  Gal- 
loromanischen,  Vorzliglich  im  Franzb'sischen.— Barad, 
J.,  Romanische  Etymologien.— Meyer-Luebke,  W.,  Ro- 
manische  Etymologien.— Philipptda,Alexan3ru,  Istoria 
Limbil,vol.  i  (bespr.  Th.  Gartner).— Krancesco-Flamini, 
Studi  di  Storia  Letteraria  Italiana  e  Strtuiiera  (bespr. 
R.  Renier).— Zeitschriften. 

LlTERATURBLATT  FUER  GERMANISCHE  UND  RO 
MAN!SCHE  PHILOLOGIE.  Herausgegeben  von  Otto 
Behaghel  und  Fritz  Neumann.  XVI.  JAHRGANG 
(1895).  NR.  1-3.  Contents:  Vahhn,.).,  Lauhiminns 
Brief  e  an  Haupt,  hsg.  von,  (O.  Behaghel).— Jiriczek, 
0.  L.,  Die  Bosa-Saga  iu  Zwei  Fassungen,  Nebst  Proben 
aus  den  Bosa-Rimur  (W.  Golther).— von  Kk-dmnann, 
W.,  Gojthes  Geaprttahe  (!l.  L  imb 3!).— Baec!itold,  J., 
Schweizerische  Schaiuspit-le  des  xvi.  Jahrhunderts, 
Band  iii  (L.  FrHnkel).-Toblt'r-M«yer,  W..  Deutsche 
Faniiliennamen  nach  Ihrer  Eiitstehung  und  Bedeut- 
ung,  mit  BesondorerRucksiehtnahme  aut'  ZUrich  und 
die  Ostschweiz  (A.  Socin).— Kahl,  W.,  Mundart  und 
Schriftsprache  im  Elsass  (G.  Bu.z).  —  Menges,  H., 
Volksmundarten  und  Volkssthule  im  Elsass  ( G. 
Binz).—  Fem-IMUl.,  Teutonic  Antiquities  in  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  Genesis  (G.  Binz).— Ijunggren,  C.  A.,  The  Po- 
etical Gender  of  the  Substantives  in  the  Works  of 
Ben  Jonson  (F.  Holthausen).— Suflre,  L.,  Les  Sources 
du  Roman  de  Renart  (C.  Voretzsch).— Bire,  E.,  Victor 
Hugo  Apres  1853  (R.  Mahrenholtz).— Clpolla,  C.,  II 
Trattato  de  Monarchia  di  Dante  Alighieri  e  1'Opos- 
colo  De  Potestate  Regia  et  Papali  di  Giovanni  da 
Parigi  (F.  X.  Kraus).—  I'lpolla,  €.— Di  Alcuni  Luoghi 
Autobiografici  nella  Divina  Commedia  (F.  X.  Kraus). 
— Tobler,  A.— Dante  und  Vier  Deutsche  Kaiser  (F.  X. 
Kraus).  —  Trcnta,  G.,  La  Tomba  di  Arrigo  VII  Im- 


peratore,  con  Documenti  Inediti  (F.  X.  Kraus).— 
Prou,  M.,  yaanuel  de  Pal^ographie  Latino  et  Fran- 
9aise  du  vie.  au  xviie.  Siecle,  Suivi  d'uu  Diction- 
naire  des  Abbreviations,  2e  ed.,  (Ed.  Heyck).— Prou, 
M.,  Recueil  de  Facsimiles  d'Ecritures  du  xiie.  au 
xviie.  Siecle,  Accompagnes  de  Transcriptions  (Ed. 
Heyck).— Zeitschriften,  u.  s.  W.— Scherer,  W.,  Kleine 
Schriften,  Band  i  (O.  Behaghel).— Koegel,  R.,  Ge- 
schichte  der  Deutschen  Litteratur  bis  zum  Ausgang 
dea  Mittelalters,  Band  i,  Th.  1  (F.  Kauffmann).— 
Schorbach,  K.,  Die  Historien  von  dem  Ritter  Beringer 
(J.  Loubier). — Wolff,  R.,  Untersuchung  der  Laute  in 
den  Kentischen  Urkunden  (G.  Binz).—  Vollmoeller 
und  Otto,  Kritischer  Jahresbricht  Uber  die  Fort- 
schritte  der  Romanischen  Philologie  (R.  Mahreu- 
holtz).— Dupertuls.F.— Recueil  des  Locutions  Vicieuses 
les  Plus  Usitees  dans  le  Canton  de  Vaud,  recueillies, 
et  raises  en  ordre  alphabitique,  avec  leur  significa- 
tion francaise  (K.  Sachs).  —  Novatl,  F..  La  Strage 
Cornetana  del  1245  Narrata  da  un  Poeta  Contempo- 
ranco  (R.  Wendriner).— Guarnerio,  P.  E.— Del  Trattato 
de,  Sette  Peccati  Mortal!  in  Dialetto  Genovcse  Anti- 
co  (R.  Wendriner).— Gorra,  E.,  II  Dialetto  della  Court 
d' Amours  di  Mahius  li  Poriiers  (R.  Wendriner). — 
Mazzoni.G.,  Due  Parole  sul  Disdegno  di  Guido  Ca- 
valcanti  (R.  Wendriner).— t;ipolla,l'.,UnContributo alia 
Storia  della  Controversialntorna, all  Autenticiti  del 
Commento  di  Pietro  Alighieri  alia  Divina  Commedia(R 
Wendrin«r).— Frati,  L.,  Costumanze  e  Pompe  Nuziali 
Bolognesi  nel  Medio  Evo  (R. Wendriner).— Parodi,  E.  G., 
Dal  Tristano  Veneto(R.  Wendriner).— Papa,  P.,  Al- 
cune  Rubriche  della  Prammatica  Sopra  il  Vestire 
Promulgata  dalla  Repubblica  Fiorentina  nel  1384  (K. 
Wendriner).— (Jarini,  I.,  La  Difesa  di  Pompon lo  Leto 
Pubblicata  ed  Illustrata  (R.  Wendriner).— Kassi,  V., 
Un  Egloga  Volgare  di  Tito  Vespasiano  Strozzi  (R. 
Wendriner).— Mcdin,  A.,  Due  Barzelette  Relative  alia 
Battaglia  della  Polesella,  23  Dicembre,  1509  (It.  Wen- 
driner).— Salvloni,  ('.,  Ancoradel  Cavassico  ;  La  Can- 
tilena Bellunese  del  1193  (H.  Wendriner).— Kenler,  K., 
Dalhi  Corrisponflenza  di  Guido  Postumo  Silvestri; 
Spigolature  (R.  Wondriner).— Prato,  G.,  Alcutie  Rime 
di  Giovanni  Muzzarelli  (R.  Wendriner).— Kluminl,  F., 
Viaggi  Fantastic!  e  Trionti  di  Poeti  (K.  Wemlrimer). 
de  Nolhac,  P.,  Pietro  Bern  bo  et  Luzare  de  Buff  (R. 
Wendriner).— Solertl,  A.,  La  Seconda  Parte  del  Dis- 
corso  Intorno  alia  Sedizione  Nata  nel  Regno  di  Fran- 
cia  TAnno  1535,  di  Torquato  Tasso,  per.  la  prima  volta 
data  in  luce  (H.  Wendriner). — Una.  G.,  11  Testi  e  i 
Principl  di  Savoia;  Note  Sparse  Raccolte  da  Docu- 
nieuti  degli  Archivi  Torinesi  (R.  Wendriner). — .Men- 
gliini,\l.,Le  Lodi  e  Grandezze  della  Agug-lia  e  Foiitaiia 
Ui  Piazza  Navona,  Caii/.onetta  di  Francesco  Ascione 
(R.  Wendriner).— Pelissler,  L.  G.,  Quelques  Lettres 
des  Amies  do  Huet  (R.  Wendiiner)  — llugarll,  V.,  Re 
Gumshid  nel  Zabul  (R.  Wendriner).— Pltre,  G.,  Ninne- 
Nanne  Siciliane  Inedite  (R.  Wendriiier)./-BL-llorini, 
E.,  Ninne-NHiine  e  Caniilene  Infant  Hi  Raccolte  a 
Nuoro  (It.  Wendriner).— \urra,  P.,  CJsi  e  Costumi 
Nuziali  di  Sardegna  (R-  Wendriner). -Bacci,  0.,  Pre- 
"•hiere  «  Giiiculatorie  di  Bambini  che  si  Diooooin  Val- 
delsa  (R.  Wendriner)— Zeitschriften,  u.  s.  W.— Hilde- 
brand,  K.,  Festgabe  1'Ur  Forscliungen  zur  Deutschen 
Philologie  (G.  Ehrismann).— Hosenhagen,  G.,  Daniel 
von  dem  BHihenden  Tal  (G.  Ehrismann).— Hoffmann, 
II.,  Bin  Nachahmer  Hermanns  von  Sachsenheim  (H. 
Wuuderlieh).— llewctt,  W.  T.,  Goethes  Hermann  und 
Dorothea  (J.  Collin).- Breul,  K..  Schillers  Wilhelm 
Tell  (J.  «Jollin).— Breul,  K.,  Schillers  Geschichte  des 
Dreijahrigen  Krieges  (J.  Collin).— Hosljn,  P.  I!., 
Aanteekeningen  op  den  Browulf  (V.  Holthausen).— 
Jenkins,?.  A.,  f/Espurgatoire  Seint  Patriz  of  Marie 
de  France  (K.  Warnke).— Jeanroy  ft  Teulie,  Mysteres 
Provencuix  du  Quiuzieme  Siecle  (B.  Levy).— Dessireo, 
G.  A.,  j^a  Poesia  Siciliana  Sotta  git  Svevi  (Berthold 
Wiese).— Wsigand,  G.,  Rrster  Jahresboricht  des  Insti- 
tuts  1'Ur  Ruu.Hnische  Sprai-he  zu  Leipzig  (W.  Meyer- 
LUbke).— Zeitschril'ten,  u.s.  W. 


128 


MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES. 


Baltimore,  May,   189«. 


FRANCE,    FILOLOGY,    FONETICISM 
AND  POETIC  FORMULAE.  II. 

III. 

BUT  whatever  be  the  views  as  to  the  general 
or  the  particular  changes  demanded  by  pho- 
netic reform  in  France  as  elsewhere,1  the 
necessity  as  well  as  the  dangers  of  simplifi- 
cation nowheres  appear  better  than  in  the  use 
of  proper  names.  The  origin,  meaning  and 
use  of  personal  nomenclatures  have  been, 
though  comparatively  slightly,  studied  his- 
torically. But  the  philological  field  opened 
has  not  been  exploited  to  the  measure  of  its 
possibilities.  Whatever  reforms  may  be  intro- 
duced in  average  speech  or  writing,  the  pre- 
rogatives of  proper  names  will  disappear  the 
last.  With  growing  social  distinctions  in  our 
American  midst,  with  better  knowledge  of 
reasons,  or  source,  in  names,  or  with  the  rise 
of  new  descriptive  terms,  must  come  obstacles 
to  phonetic  purification  in  this  respect.  We 
find,  for  instance,  several  tendencies  at  work  : 

1.  Supposed    historical  rehabilitation  as  a 
badge  of  honorable  age.    This  is  in  two  ways, 
as  affecting  spelling  or  sound  : — for  example, 
Smith,  reverts  to  Smyth,  Smythe,  and  is  pro- 
nounced  Smith,   or  Sm-eye-th(e).     Add  con- 
sistent complications  and  we  shall  soon  have 
other  dualities,  in  Smithcrs,  Smythers,  Smith- 
erkin,  -kine  and  -kins,  Smytherkine  and  -kines 
and  -kyn,  -kyns,  -kyne,  and  -kynes,  etc. 

2.  Antiquated  absurdities,  fruit  of  provin- 
cialism, or  worse,  like  Cholmondeley  (Chum- 
ley)  Beauchainp  (Beecham),    Belvoir   Castle 
(Beever),  Magdalen  (Maudlen,  -in),  Hey  sham 
(Heesham),  and  Pall  Mall  (Pell  Mell;  though 
with  more  reason,  because  with  relic  of,  say 
French-Latin,  a  to  e). 

3.  The  adoption  of  the  virile  and    often 
vivid  phraseology  of  slang,  and  the  consequent 
complications  of  conversation  or  chirography 
interlarded  with  baneful  baptisms  like  Hoosier, 

i  Compare  tht  impetus  given  to  the  movement  by  the  recom- 
mendations of  the  English  Philological  Association  and  the 
approbation  of  the  American  Philological  Association  and 
the  American  Spelling  Reform  Association. 


Kanuck,  Pine-Tree  State,  et  mult,  a/.,  both 
simple  and  compound. 

But  in  France,  where  history  has  crystallized 
and  document  has  settled  and  a  use  of  cen- 
turies has  intensified ;  where  the  minutiae  of 
departmental  data  far  surpasses  the  difficulties 
of  our  own  scholars'  memorizing  of  State 
and  Capital ;  the  law  of  nomenclature,  first 
learned,  and  then  supplemented,  in  the  course 
of  experience,  by  slow  acquisition  of  indi- 
vidual names ;  the  question  once  more,  of  a 
waste  of  time,  of  the  unjust  load  placed  upon 
the  scholar's  head  and  memory,  and  of  the 
lack  of  value  of  any  returns,  all  these,  are 
important  points. 

Even  the  educated  are  too  often  at  a  loss. 
There  is  a  witty  story,  used  by  the  reformers, 
to  illustrate  this.  Charles  Nodier  was  once 
reading  a  note  upon  the  pronunciation  of  /, 
and  observed  that  it  generally  had,  between 
two  fs  the  sound  of  s,  save  a  few  exceptions. 
"  You  are  mistaken,  said  Emmanuel  Dupaty  : 
/  between  two  i's  has  always  the  sound  of  s  ; 
there  is  no  exception."  Instantly  Nodier  slyly 
replies:  "  Mon  cher  confrdre,  prenez  pine  de 
mon  ignorance,  et  faites-moi  1 'amide1  de  re"- 
pe"ter  seulement  la  moirie  de  ce  que  vous  venez 
de  dire."  But  far  greater  is  the  difficulty, 
once  transferred  to  proper  names.  Paris 
itself,  which  is  so  proud  of  its  purity  and  pre- 
cision of  pronunciation,  is  constantly  indul- 
ging in  discussions  over  the  proper  sounding  of 
names.  M.  Jules  Claretie  furnishes  by  his 
patronymic  material  to  two  schools  who  insist 
upon  calling  him  respectively  Clarty,  Claresie, 
(like  argutie,  Boetie),  and  a  third  way,  Clarti. 
We  are  reminded  by  this  name'  of  that  capital 
story  as  well  as  proof  of  our  subject,  told  of 
the  great  critic,  an  anecdote  whose  little 
known  character  excuses  its  telling,  if  only  be- 
cause as  much  in  keeping  with  the  latter  as 
the  story  of  Nodier  was  typical  of  him.  A 
short  time  since  M.  Bonnefon,  the  author  of 
a  work  on  Etienne  de  la  Boetie,  carried  it 
to  M.  Brunetiere. 

"I  have  made  a  book  on  la  Boetie,"  says 
the  author,  sounding  the  t. 

One  says  la  Boessie,  interrupts  the  critic. 

Pardon,  says  M.  Bonnefon,  one  says  Boetie 


129 


259 


^,1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


260 


like   Clarti.     Both  names  are  from  the  Pe"ri- 

Place. 

Their  People. 

gord,  from  the  Salartais. 

Alais 

Ale"siens 

One  says  Clarti,  answers  M.  Brunetidre,  but 

Albi 

Albigeois 

the  hard  /  is  an  exception.     I  have  always 

Les  Andelys 

Andelysiens 

pronounced  Boissie,   I  shall  still  pronounce 

Angoule'me 

Angoumois 

Boessie.    Then  he  gives  a  long  theory  of  such 

Auch 

Auscitains 

use,  to  the  author,  who  rises,  and  as  he  leaves 

Avranches 

Avranchins 

says  :     You  are  perhaps  right.     Au  revoir, 
Monsieur  Brunessilre  :a 
The  study  of  the  strong  philological  remains 

Bagneres-de-Bigorre 
Bayeux 
Beaugency 

Bigourdans 
Bayeusains 
Balgentiaquois 

in  proper  names  may  furnish  by  the  presence 

Besan9on 

Bizontins 

of  persistent  parasitic  letters  or  their  absence, 

B&iers 

Biterois 

clues  to  questions  of  history  or  heredity  as 

Biarritz 

Biarrots 

well  as  of  phonetics.    We  have  remnants  of 

Blois 

Ble'sois  or  Blaisois 

such  in  names  in  our  own  midst  (Lefebvre)  of 

Boulogne 

Boulonnais 

French  origin. 

Briey 

Briotins 

The  grammatical  and  geographical  relations 

Bussang 

Bussenais  or  Bussenets 

of  proper  names  have  been  treated  in  a  bril- 
liantly clear  manner  for  a  most  complex  sub- 
ject,  by  M.   Cle"dat.3     But   the    staggeringly 
difficult  anomalies  which  are  to  be  met  and 

Cahors 
Cambrai 
Castres 

Cadurciens 
Cambre'siens 
Castrais 

which  constitute  such  a  stumbling-block  in 

Cavaillon 
f~*  fkt**k 

Cabellions 

the  march  of  phonetic  reform  are  best  under- 
stood by  a  list  which  has  been  prepared  partly 
from  discussion  upon  the  subject,   to  which 
many  names  have  gradually  been  added  for 
the  purposes  of  this  article.     Little  has  been 
done,  it  would  seem,  by  the  phoneticists,  to 
cross  this  bridge.4     But  readers  of  French 

Cette 
Charleroi 
Chartres 
Chateau-Gonthier 
Chateau-de-Loir 
Chateaurenault 
Chateau-Thierry 

Cettois 
Carolore"giens 
Chartrains 
CastrogontheYiens 
Castelloriens 
Renaudins 
Castrothe'odoriciens 

history,    palaeographic     students,    and    even 
those    dealing    only  with  fiction-episodes  of 
novelists,   whose  reminiscences    occasionally 

Cholet 
Cluny 
Coulommiers 

Choletais 
Clunisois 
Colume'riens 

take  a  provincial  cast,  are  constantly  confused. 
While,  as  was  said,  the  educated  to  whom  no 

Coutras 
Cubzac 

Coutrillons 
Cusaguais 

necessity  of  studying  old  birthnames  of  vil- 

Douais 

Douaisiens 

lages  has  come,  are  at  a  loss,  whether  dealing 

Epernon 

Sparnoniens 

with  the  morning's  Fails  Divers  relating  an 

Eu 

Eudois 

item  concerning  a    commune  or  hamlet,  or 

Evreux 

Ebroiciens 

obliged  to  hunt  documentary  history,  or  hav- 

Flers 

FleYiens 

ing  to  do  merely  with  the  complicated  admin- 

Fontainebleau 

Fontbleaudiens 

istrative  structure  of  bureaucracy  in  papers 

Fronsac 

Fronsadais 

and  briefs.     For  example: 

Gray 

Graylois 

a  For  a  scientific   discussion  of  t    (and    particularly    as 

Issoudon 

Issoldunois 

changed  into  k  in  Canadian,  Moliire,  and  provincial  speech) 
cf.  Max  MUller,  Science  of  Lanfuitft.                                        ' 

Joigny 

Joviniens 

Laigle 

Aiglons 

3  Pp  -91-99  • 

Lectoure 

Lectorates 

4  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  very  large  bibliography  of 

La  Loupe 

Loupiots 

works  which  may  be  summed  up  in  a  general  title,  such  as 

Lavaur 

Vaure"ens 

Etudes  sur  let  noms  topofraphiguti  de  I'arrondissement,  or 
/«  province,  or  //  departement  de  

Limoges 
Limoux 

Limogeots 
Limousins 

130 


261 


May,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


262 


Place. 

Their  People. 

Place.                       Their  People. 

Lisieux 

Lexoviens 

Saint-Nazaire                  Nazairians 

Longwy 

Longuoviciens 

Saint-Servain                  Servannais 

(Madagascar 

Malegasse,    Malgache, 

Sarlat                               Sarladais 

Made"casse) 

Se"es                                  Sagiens 

Mamers 

Mamertins 

Senlis                               Senlisiens 

Le  Mans 

Manceaux 

Sens                                 Senonais 

Martignes 

Martegallais 

Thouars                           Thouarsais 

Mirecourt 

Mercoriens  or  Mirecur- 

Tours                               Tourangeaux 

tiens 

TreVoux                          TreVoltiens 

Mirepoix 

Mirapisciens 

Valence                          Valentinois 

Pont-a-Mousson 

Mussipontins 

Vannes                            Vannetais 

Montargis 

Montargois 

Verneuil  (Eure)             Vernoliens 

Montauban 

Montalbanais 

Vezelay                           Ve"zeliens 

MonteMimar 

Montiliens 

Vouvrays                         Vouvrillons 

Montereau 

Monterelais 

In  general,  -ais  or  -ois  is  added  to  a  con- 

Nancy 

Nance"ens  or  Nancelens 

sonant.    Yet  the  exceptions  are  numerous  (cf. 

Nantua 

Nantuassiens 

Paris,   Elbeuf,   Belfort,   which   give    respec- 

Neufchateau 

Ne"ocastriens 

tively,  -tens,  -viens,   -ains  ;  though   we   have 

Nevers 

Nivernais 

Brest-ois,  Nif-ois,  Lyonnais,  etc.) 

Olivet  (Loiret) 

Olivetains 

Again,   clear  Latinity    as  in   pans,  castra, 

Le  Palais 

Palantins 

Carolns  is  subject  to  regular  euphonic  rules. 

Pamiers 

Appame"ens 

But  in  either  case,  or  in  the  existing  anomalies 

Paray-le-Monial 

Parodiens 

consecrated  by  centuries  of  usage  in  the  prov- 

Pau 

Palois 

inces  and  in  state  papers,  What  is  the  Phonetic 

Pe"rigeux 

Pe"trocoriens 

Reform  to  do  with  the  situation  ? 

Perpignan 

Perpignannais 

IV. 

Pe"zenas 

Piscenois 

"  LV  muet,  mais  c'est  la  base  de  la  diction 

Pontarlier 

Pontissaliens 

francaise,"   has    said    the    Titan    of   modern 

Pont  Saint-Esprit 

Spiripontins 

French    theatrical    criticism,    M.    Francisque 

Provins 

Provinois 

Sarcey.    And  around  this  evanescent  e  rages 

Rambervilliers 

Rambuvelais 

more  than  on  any  other  ground  the  battle  of 

Rambouillet 

Rambolitains 

a    practical    pronunciation.      Psychologically 

Reims 

Re"mois 

Considered  this    seems  quite    natural.      The 

La  Rochelle 

Rochelais 

French  are  perpetually  paradoxical.     Here  is 

Rognac 

Re"gnaquains 

a    principle    whose    point   lies   solely   in  the 

Romans 

Romanais 

absence   of   what   is    present.      Here   is    the 

Roscoff 

Roscovites 

pyramid  of  poetry,  and  of  its  pronunciation, 

Roubaix 

Roubaisiens 

resting  upon   its  apex,   and  an  unspoken    e 

Rupt 

Vaude"s 

conditioning  the  whole  speech.     Here  is  the 

Sables-d'Olonne,  Les 

Sablais 

least  emphatic  and  most  ductile  of  enuncia- 

Saint-Brieuc 

Briochins 

tions  become  the  main  medium  of  expression. 

Saint-Denis 

Dyonisiens 

And  again,  the  most  subtle  shading  of  vocal 

Saint-Die" 

De"odaciens 

use,  the  most  spiritual  —  since  its  interpretation 

Saint-Etienne 

Ste"phanois 

depends  upon  the  individual,   and   upon  the 

Saint-Flour 

Sanflorains 

5  Cf.  the  list  of  Gentile's  (names  of  inhabitants)  in  Losaint, 

Saint-Jean  d'AngeMy 

Ange"riens 

pp.    xx-xxii,   covering  the  commonest  cases,  and  his  rule  : 
"When  you  do  not  know  the  gentile  of  a  city,  «r  country, 

Saint-Ld 

Laudois 

etc.,  say:  les  habitants  de.  .....;"  cf.  also  a  list  in  the 

Saint-Malo 

Malouins 

Dictionnnire  Laroussf. 

131 


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264 


slightest  whiff  of  surrounding  circumstances — 
is  the  corner-stone  of  the  poetic,  structure. 
At  this  angle,  phoneticism  and  poetry  meet, 
and  it  is  literally  the  turning  point  of  either 
system. 

The  phonetic  reformer  is  a  patriot  in  spite  of 
his  attacks  upon  a  historical  acceptance  of  a 
defective  system.  He  is  proud  of  the  previous 
heritage  of  French  poetry.  He  still  claims  to 
see  its  superiority  over  Shakespearian  or  other 
similar  verse-form.  And  when  not  an  ex- 
tremist, he  is  willing  to  weaken  his  proposi- 
tions by  exclusion  of  poetry  from  their  work- 
ings, if  need  be.  He  also  feels  that  the 
neo-philology  of  other  nationalities,  English  or 
German,  will  not  infringe  upon  their  poetry  as 
his  plans  will  upon  his  own,  with  its-  depen- 
dence upon  verses  so  much  governed  by  mute 
e  syllabification.  So  that  the  contest  lies 
much  between  sense  and  sentiment,  although 
aestheticism  of  the  eye  which  will  react  upon 
beauty  of  enunciation  is  a  large  factor  in  the 
dispute.  It  is  the  struggle  between  the  arti- 
ficial and  the  actual.  It  is  Naturalism  in 
Poetry,  and  the  reformers  of  the  latter  insist 
upon  introductions  into  it  of  changes.  If 
cultured  circles  in  Paris  pronounce  the  mono- 
syllables ces,  des,  les,  etc.,  as  if  acuted,  so 
should  poetry.  If  linking  is  rarely  used  now 
in  actual  speech,  so  must  it  disappear  in  poe- 
try. If  final  e  is  scarcely  heard  and  the 
difference  between  doublets  such  as  mou, 
mouf,  donnt,  donnie,  su,  rue  is  imperceptible, 
natural  law  in  the  poetic  world  demands 
similar  influenced  Apply  such  principles  to 
any  poetic  lines.  Open  at  random  Racine  or 
Corneille.  Make  Don  Diegue  cry  out: 

J'n't'  di  plu  rien.     Veng'moi,  veng'toi; 

or  the  Cid  declare: 

J'fai  c'k*  tu  veu,  mais  san  kite  1'envi: 

or  Chimdne  agonize  with  ; 

JTsouhtt  ainsi  plu  k'j'nTesper, 

and  one  can  well  understand  the  horror  at  the 
iconoclastic  demands  for  intrusion  of  such 
results  into  the  province  of  poetry.  The 
arguments  in  favor  of  the  exclusion  of  such 
sacrilege  are  numerous.  The  defenders  of 
poetry  as  at  present  constituted  make  a  strong 

6  For  a  scientific  treatment  of  such  types,  consult  Let 
Parlers  Pariiiens,  by  M.  Edouard  Koschwitz. 


point  when  they  speak  of  Dignity.  Poetry's 
garb  must  have  grace  and  gravity.  It  is  ideal 
and  not  vulgar.  It  must  have  the  conversa- 
tional type  of  the  drawing-room,  not  of  the 
fish-market,  nor  even  the  boulevard.  The 
muse  must  not  appear  in  neglige1,  nor  the 
sandal  be  slip-shod.  The  classic  ideal  will 
always  be  the  best.  The  Venus  of  verse  will 
always  be  surpassing  under  any  of  her  forms, 
for  she  represents  the  perfected. 

Again,  natural  reasons  demand  the  retention 
of  mute  e.  Grant  elision  in  hurried  speech  or 
rapidity  of  daily  utterance.  With  expansion 
of  radius  of  space  to  be  covered,  comes  the 
necessity  of  clearness  of  enunciation.  Now 
mute  e  is  the  favorite  French  (as  also  English) 
vowel.  Its  very  variety  as  initial,  medial,  final, 
monosyllabic,  and  its  essential  atonic  quality 
fall  exactly  into  the  law  of  French  words,  of 
non-accentuation  save  by  natural  expiration  of 
breath.  Consonantal  concurrence  is  broken. 
Ease  of  enunciation  is  assisted.  Sonorous- 
ness is  furthered.  Articulation  is  carried  to 
the  limits  of  the  hall  of  speaking.  But  par- 
ticularly rhythmic  flow,  harmony  of  accent, 
verse-cadence  are  blended  by  the  soft  and 
simple  exhalation  which  allows  such  elasticity 
of  enunciation  in  prolongation  of  pressure, 
release,  gentle  modulation,  and  what,  to  any- 
one acquainted  with  French  poetry  or  stage, 
is  the  almost  infinite  variety  of  expression 
possible  by  such  use.?  So  that  the  mute  e 
has  been  well  called  "the  pedal  of  the  voice." 

This  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  the  corolla- 
ries or  to  attempt  to  gauge  results  of  experi- 
ments successfully  conducted  in  our  own 
midst.  But  fair-mindedness  can  understand 
the  dangers  in  the  destruction  of  any^  uncon- 
scious absorption  by  the  child,  of  harmony  of 
sight  and  of  sense  and  of  sound,  when  the 
Natural  system  reduces  sentences  to  such 
congeries  of  consonants  as  la  />2n'  Klanfan 
pran  (la  peine  que  renfant  prend),  lorn 
(Fhomme),  et  mult  al. 

It  is  no  wonder  then  that  the  perspective  of 
a  mutilated  poetry  has  aroused  such  a  protest 
from  conservative  lovers  of  French  poetry,  or 
that  the  reform  of  verse-pronunciation  so 

7  Cf.  the  article  '  La  Prononciation  Franca  ise  et  les  Neo- 
philologues  Allemands,'  by  M.  Charles  Marelle,  in  Le  Tetnps 
(suSJttfnient),  June  21,  1894. 


132 


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266 


naturally  connects  itself  with  that  of  verse- 
revolution,  Parnassian  poetry,  Symbolist  song, 
and  the  vagaries  of  Decadent  driveling,  par- 
ticularly since  the  poetic  petard  of  M.  Psi- 
chari  in  his  famous  article,8  threw  consternation 
into  the  ranks  which  had  ridiculed  the  reform 
by  slighting  it.  Sarcey  stormed  in  a  series  of 
articles  in  Le  Temps.1)  Weber,  musical  critic 
of  the  Temps,  takes  up  the  application  to  the 
art  of  the  librettist  and  composer.  And  the 
lover  of  French  dramatic  art  can  well  appre- 
ciate and  sympathize  in  part  with  such  a  point 
of  view,  though  we  have  no  exact  analogies 
for  comparison.  It  is  true  that  we  are  told 
the  "Prince  of  Wales'  set,"  whose  laws  in 
social  matters  are  better  than  their  knowledge 
of  language,  and,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  better 
than  Queen  Victorian  barbarism  in  art  and 
fiction,  has  unconsciously  properly  reformed 
the  language  by  the  clipping  off  of  final  "g," 
which  is  a  relic  of  false  assimilation  to  Norman 
importation  of  nasalized  finals.  Whether  the 
English  court  to-day  is  a  standard  any  more 
than  the  French  one  of  the  time  of  Ronsard, 
who  warned  not  to : 

"  affecter  par  trop  le  parler  de  la  cour,  lequel 
est  quelquefois  tres-mauvais  pour  estre  Ian- 
gage  de  Damoiselles,  et  jeunes  Gentils-hom- 
mes  qui  font  plus  profession  de  bien  combattre 
que  de  bien  parler;"10 

and  while  we  would  not  take  as  example 
"ces  robins  de  cour  qui  veulent  tout  corriger" 
though  "detous  dialectes  .  .  .  .  le  courtisan 
est  toujours  le  plus  beau  a  cause  de  la  majeste" 
du  prince,"11  yet  the  illustration  is  one  of- 
consonantal  change.  And  the  power  of  that 
poetic  e  is  as  indefinable  as  it  is  great.  To 
excise  it  would  be  to  utterly  sacrifice  the  ex- 
quisite liquidity,  the  gurgle  which  makes 
Sarah  Bernhardt's  intonation,  for  example,  a 
gamut  of  senses  as  well  as  of  sound,  a  mixture 
of  marvellous  passion  and  pronunciation.  Let 
us  think  of  the  effect  if  Marlowe's  mighty 
line,  or  Massinger's  manly  verse,  or  the  sweet 
lilt  of  Shakespeare's  sonnets,  was  contracted 
or  cut  off  in  any  way,  and  we  can  appreciate 

8  '  Le  Vers  frani,ais   aujourd'hui  et  les  Potoes^  Decadents  ' 
(Rtvue  Bleue,  6  Juin,  1891.) 

9  e.  f.  article  in  numbers  of  July  9,  16,  23,  30,  1894. 

10  AbtrefJ de  I' Art  Poetigue  Francois, 

11  Pre/act  sur  la  Franciade. 


the  French  feeling,  though  here,  too,  it  is 
hard  to  catch  the  deft  shading  of  the  French. 
Is  it  not  a  patent  fact  that  the  foreigner  fails  to 
understand  French  poetry?  Perhaps  by  the 
same  law  which  precludes  the  appreciation  by 
the  French  of  the  remnant  of  Puritan  drawl 
in  our  hymnal  or  other  poetics. 
Sarcey  well  says, 

"  Voltaire  e*crivait  dans  sa  correspondance  a 
un  Stranger  qui  1'avait  taquine*  sur  nos  e 
muets :  '  Vous  nous  reprochez  nos  e  muets 
comme  un  son  triste  et  sourd  qui  expire  dans 
notre  bouche ;  mais  c'est  precisement  dans 
les  e  muet  que  consiste  la  grande  harmonic  de 
notre  prose  et  de  nos  vers  ;  empire,  couronne, 
diad£me,  flamme,  tendresse,  victoire ;  toutes 
ces  desinences  heureuses  laissent  dans  1'oreille 
un  son  qui  subsiste  encore  apres  le  mot  com- 
mence], comme  un  clavecin  qui  re"sonne,quand 
les  doigts  ne  frappent  plus  les  touches.'  Le 
choix  des  mots  qu''a  pris  Voltaire  comme 
exemple  est  typique  (la  remarque,  qui  est 
inge"nieuse,  est  de  M.  Bre"mont);  un  romauti- 
que  aurait  e"crit :  maitresse,  caresse,  banni£re, 
fournaise,  entrailles,  montagne,  hirondelle. 
Aujourd'hui  on  dirait :  gr£ve,  prelude,  per- 
venche,  violette,  me'lancolie,  ambiante,  etc. 
La  demonstration  resterait  la  m£me." 

Nor  is  this  demonstration  invalided  by  the 
excess  of  ^-ism  in  song.  Because  singers  say 
or  have  to  say:  Ma  filleu  vous  eteuz  un  impie-u 
(vous  ctes  un  impie),  aime-e-u  maa-ri-a-a-jeu, 
etc.,  it  does  not  follow  that  verse  must  do  the 
same.  If  the  Academy  allows  pluche  and 
peluche,  bourlet  and  bourrelet,  the  principle 
should  hold  in  music ;  if  final  -aient  of  verbs 
is  one  syllable,  then  there  should  follow  the 
complete  reintegration  into  poetry  of  those 
now  excluded  combinations  where  the  plural 
ofj'oie  and  similar  forms  are  not  allowed  in 
the  body  of  a  line  by  the  rule  of  their  being 
double  syllables,  which,  counting  for  two  at 
the  end  of  a  word,  retain  them  save  before  a 
word  beginning  with  a  vowel.  Sarcey  multi- 
plies examples.  But  examples  do  little; 
rhythmic  sense  is  innate.  How  many  English 
boys  who  know  every  rule  of  Latin  poetry, 
who  can  almost  scan  at  sight,  so  to  speak, 
that  is,  recognize  at  once  the  poetic  form,  and 
who  can  write  Latin  verse'  by  the  yard,  have 
rhythmic  sense?  An  English  clergyman  once 
condemned  to  the  writer,  and  heatedly,  Ameri- 
can education  wholesale,  because  our  boys 
could  not  do  this  feat,  and,  therefore,  we  could 
produce  neither  gentlemen  nor  men  of  culture. 


133 


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268 


Yet  those  same  British  boys  have  little  poetic 
sense.  So  that,  in  this  question  of  mute  e, 
each  man  is,  in  a  sense,  his  own  interpreter, 
the  more  so,  as  no  rules  exist.  The  Academy 
gives  none ;  Littre"  leaves  this  point  without 
opinion.  The  versatility  of  this  silent  e  makes 
rule  impossible.  Its  flexibility  is  its  force; 
its  haphazard  character  gives  it  its  harmony. 
It  is  this  which  gives  the  rich  flow  of  Racinian 
verse.  It  is  this  which  causes  the  liquidity  of 
La  Fontaine  and  of  Lamartine,  and  this  which 
furnishes  the  inexplicable  qualfties  of  French 
verse,  unseizable  by  English  or  other  alien 
criticism. 

M.  Psichari,  in  an  able  letter  incorporated 
in  M.  Sarcey's  critique,12  has  renewed  his 
statements  somewhat  thus : 

"  Poetry  must  represent  actual  language  ;  it 
must  conform  to  the  latter's  renewals  ;  and  it 
should  become. popular  and  national  instead 
of  the  prerogative  of  the  cultured  few.  Again: 
we  cannot  distinguish  as  now  pronounced, 
pair  de  France,  paire  de  bottines,  plre  Denis, 
qit'il  perde  son  temps.  The  e  between  rand  d 
is  imperceptible,  as  is  proved  by  the  sound 
perde  .  .  .  not  revealing  the  sense  to  be  com- 
pleted. So,  mer  du  may  be  mer  du  Nord, 
maire  du  village,  iriere  du  petit.  "The  mute 
e  has  ceased  to  be  sonorous."  It  is  doomed 
for  the  future.  It  is  absolutely  unstable,  and 
depends  upon  the  personal  equation  of  feeling 
or  expression.  Most  so-called  Alexandrines 
are  thus  absolutely  false  ones ;  thus,  the 
Pauvres  Gens  has  only  45  real  ones  in  256 
lines :  the  Pritre  pour  tous,  95  out  of  177. 
Education  poetic  and  education  of  the  ear 
differ.  Present  prosody  is  artificial.  Women 
and  children,  who  speak  naturally,  constantly 
elide  e.  Even  rest,  or  lengthening  of  the 
vowel  preceding  mute  e  tends  to  disappear. 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  a  parasitic  e  is  added 
sometimes  to  masculines  final  (solennel(le))." 

But  the  most  interesting  thing  is  the,  let  us 
call  it,  Socialism,  which  M.  Psichari  expounds, 
and  by  which  he  hails  the  symbolic  poets  as 
the  precursors  of  a  future  popularized  poetry, 
because  it  attempts  to  approach  the  pronunci- 
ation of  every  one,  even  if  it  fails  to  reach  the 
comprehension  of  every  body.  It  would  be 
curious  to  see  France, — whose  literature,  as 
M.  Psichari  says,  has  always  had  an  aristo- 
cratic tendency,  because  ruled  by  literary 
theories — evolve  in  her  literature  a  process 
analagous  to  her  Revolution ;  if  Rousseau's 

12  Le  Temps,  July  30,  1894. 


dreamings  conditioned  the  liberties  of  the 
people,  the  ultra  idealism  of  the  Symbolic 
may  prepare  the  dawn  of  the  great  humani- 
tarian and  popular  poetry. 

To  such  arguments  of  faith  rather  than  fact, 
M.  Sarcey  replies  with  analyses  of  what  he 
calls  the  classics  and  primitive  symbolists, 
such  as  Be>anger,  (who  elides  rarely,  and  only 
to  represent  popular  speech) : 

J'suis  n£  paillasse,  et  mon  papa 

En  m'lan^ant  sur  la  place 

D'un  coup  de  pied  queuq'part  m'attrapa 

En  m'disant :  saute,  paillasse 

T'aslejarret  dispos 

Quoiqu'  t'ai  le  ventre  gros 

Et  la  fac"  rubiconde. 

N'saut  point  -z-a  demi 

Paillass'  -mon  ami 

Saute  pour  tout  le  monde 

"Yet  B€ranger  wrote  saute,  paillasse,  because 
of  his  instinct  of  poet ;  because  one  presses 
upon  saut-  te  the  word  which  sums  up  the 
whole  song. 

Ce  que  vous  faites  d'instinct,  quand  vous 
chantez  ou  que  vous  dites  le  vers ;  vous  ap- 
puyez  fortement  sur  la  syllabe  sau  :  puis,  avec 
un  61an  de  la  voix  qui  donne  la  sensation  d'tin 
ressort  brusquement  d^tendu,  vous  retombez 
le"gerement,  tres  le"gerement,  comme  un  sylphe 
sur  Ye  muet,  qui  vous  sert  de  transition,  de 
tremplin  pour  rebondir  sur  la  fin  du  vers : 
'pour  tout  le  monde.'  " 

But  to  be  consistent,  we  should  then  say  as 
the  Parisian  populace,  not  L'chien  sautait 
bien,  but  El  chien  sautait  bien,  and  not  J'Vai 
dit,  or  Je  Vai  dit,  but  Je  ITai  dit.*3  The 
elision  of  mute  e  would  thus  reduce  alternate 
masculine  and  feminine  lines  to  such  terms  as 
tragic,  tyrannique ;  fertile,  util ;  vulgairs, 
sevtres  ;  politics,  publiques ;  fatales  petals. 
(From  M.  Havet,  who  gives  the  full  verse  of 
these  and  many  others.)  If  masculkle  and 
feminine  agree  in  spelling  as  in  sound,  the 
main  rule  of  French  rhyme-alternation  must 
go  by  the  board.  With  altered  rhyme  will  go 
rhythm,  and  the  verse  will  halt.  And  this  is 
where  the  temperate  reformers  stop,  at  the 
natural  limitation  of  poetry,  and  well  quote 
M.  Michel  Bre"al : 

"  Quand  un  peuple  a  produitune  litte>ature, 
quand  il  a  donn£  des  ceuvres  classiques  et 
fourni  sa  part  au  patrimoine  intellectuel  de 

13  For  the  history  of  the  rise  of  the  subject,  cf.  De  revo- 
lution du  vers  »u  dix-septiime  sieclt,  by  M.  Maurice  Souriau 
professor  of  French  literature  in  the  Faculty  of  Poitiers. 


134 


269 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


270 


rhumanite",  il  est,  jusqu'a  un  certain  point, 
enchatne"  par  son  passed  la  solidarity  s'impose 
aux  generations  nouvelles.  Les  peuples  sans 
histoire  sont  a  cet  e"gard  plus  libres;  c'est  la 
raison  anssi  pour  laquelle  on  e"crit  les  patois 
selon  la  prononciation  du  jour.  Mais  les 
nations  qui  n'ont  pas  attendu  jusqu'ati  moment 
actuel  pour  paraltre  sur  la  sc£ne  du  monde 
sentent  qu'elles  ont  des  obligations  spe"ciales  : 
g£ne  ou  soutien,  il  faut  qu'elles  en  prennent 
leur  parti  et  qu'elles  y  fassent  honneur. 

The  physiognomy  of  the  French  verse  has 
thus,  it  will  be  seen,  powerful  friends.  Per- 
haps the  danger  lies  in  other  directions.  The 
sterling  literary  sense  of  French  writers  will 
eventually  correct  any  poetic  extravagances, 
whose  addition  threatens  to  permanently  mar 
the  true  architectural  glory  of  their  versifica- 
tion. But  men  do  not  care  to  wait  for  the 
evolution  of  the  future,  and  to  sacrifice  the 
poetic  possibilities  of  their  own  times  during 
tentative  periods.  Decadent  poets  have  taken 
the  bit  between  their  teeth,  and  are  profiting 
by  the  consternation  caused  in  conservative 
ranks  by  the  attacks  upon  cherished  systems 
and  the  chaos  of  impending  changes.  And 
their  excuse  is  found  in  the  law  which  rules 
literature  as  every  other  sphere,  of  a  develop- 
ment, one  which  creates  successive  schools, 
formulates  certain  theories,  and  which  feels  a 
tremendous  future  as  much  freer  than  this 
present,  as  this  century  surpasses  others. 

Now,  if,  as  M.  Psichari  in  the  article  referred 
to  points  out,  the  Symbolists  have  a  great 
mission  as  a  link,  at  least,  in  such  evolution, 
their  creed  and  influence  will  much  help  or 
hinder  phonetic,  and  with  it  poetic  reform. ' 
Their  mystical  conceptions,  manufactured 
subtleties,  and  purposed  obscurities  are  one 
thing.  Their  syntactical  structure  and  reha- 
bilitation of  an  already  venerable  vocabulary 
are  idiosyncracies  not  shared  by  the  whole 
school.  But  their  attitude  to  the  versification 
is  of  vast  importance,  and  their  main  attempts 
localize  around  the  abandonment  of  the  Alex- 
andrine. Since,  as  we  have  seen,  the  Alex- 
andrine properly  analyzed,  is  a  rarity,  accord- 
ing again  to  M.  Psichari,  the  retention  of  its 
sign  in  the  mute  e  is  a  mistake.  Slight  silence 
or  stress  is  a  sufficient  substitution.  Tradition 
trained  the  ear  to  this,  and  by  it  we  uncon- 
sciously distinguish  between  masculine  and 
feminine  lines,  since  we  as  unconsciously  dwell 


upon  the  thirteenth  syllable.  The  use  in 
encor,  encore,  both  legitimate,  is  one  that 
might  well  be  generalized.  The  stress  is  dis- 
appearing, as  the  spoken  language  of  the 
stage  proves,  just  as  its  predecessor  the  e 
mute  has  dropped. 

The  Alexandrine  is  thus  on  its  last  legs,  and 
somewhat  resembles,  perhaps,  the  famous 
drawing  of  Thackeray,  of  Louis  Fourteenth's 
grandeur  and  decadence,  perruqued  and  pow- 
dered, and  minus  those  accessories  which 
concealed  his  decrepitude. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  is  this  so?  The 
curious  thing  is,  that  every  attempt  to  neutra- 
lize the  Alexandrine  analyzes  back  into  it. 
Its  spell  is  unbreakable,  and  every  combina- 
tion, whether  of  5-7,  4-8,  8-4,  1-6-5,  or  even 
what  may  be  resolved  into  4  1/2-4  1/2-3,  j»st 
as  of  6-7,  with  and  without  suppression  of  the 
mute  r,  resolves  into  the  triumphal  tone  of 
France's  historic  harmony.  The  principle  is 
thus  dual :  the  Alexandrine  is  saved.  And  if 
the  exclusion  of  the  mute  e  does  not  injure 
the  rhythm,  after  all,  why  retain  it  merely  for 
the  eye?  Where  Symbolist  becomes  Decadent 
verse,  analysis  reveals  the  interminable  lines 
as  merely  aggregated  older  metres. 

In  the  same  manner  since  internal  hiatus 
(tu-a,  ni-a)  is  permissable,  this  modern  poetry 
has  extended  the  permission  to  tu  es,  tu  allies, 
and  particularly,  has  restored  assonance. 
Rhyme  is  not  all.  With  freedom  of  its  treat- 
ment, French  poetry  might  expand  into  the 
greater  varieties  which  occur  in  the  poetry  of 
other  nations. 

Much  more  might  be  said.  There  are  the 
fierce  and  forcible  critiques  of  Leconte  de 
Lisle,  the  deification  of  the  Alexandrine  by 
Rene"  Ghil,  de  He're'dia,  and  Edmond  Harau- 
court.M  But,  to  resume.  If  we  consider  the 
grammatical  side  discussed  at  the  beginning, 
in  reference  to  prose-reforms,  we  are  safe  in 
saying,  what  arguments  can  consistently  op- 
pose the  theories  advanced  ?  The  classicists 
cry  out  against  a  desecration.  But  the  Greek 
student  knows  the  phoneticism  of  the  Platonic 
period ;  the  French  one  recalls  the  similar 
system  of  the  early  language.  So,  the  San- 

14  Cf.  the  articles  originally  published  as  results  of  inter- 
view!, by  Jules  Huret,  in  L' Echo  de  Paris,  and  then  in  the 
book  L' Evolution  litttraire. 


135 


271 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


272 


skrit  itself  is  based  upon  such  an  interpreta- 
tionf  and  out  of  the  glorious  legacy  of  a 
primitive  past  appears  a  principle  which  con- 
travenes no  linguistic  nor  literary  development, 
but  assists  both.  The  conservatism  of  the 
French  Academy  which  consecrates  tardily 
the  results  due  to  literary  conflicts  its  authority 
has  not  been  able  to  control,  can  well  take 
the  initiative  in  accepting  and  urging  such  a 
return  to  former  and  to  sensible  law. 

It  is,  then,  because  the  phonetic  reform  in 
prose  is  practical  that  it  has  weight ;  but  also 
because  it  includes  a  great  modern  question 
in  the  ethics  of  education,  and  destroys  the 
inculcation  of  a  falseness  which  the  Platonic 
ideal  as  put  forth  in  the  Republic  would  never 
have  tolerated.  To  simplify  processes  to  the 
child's  mind,  to  abolish  as  far  as  possible 
mere  memoriter  method,  to  remove  mislead- 
ing analogies,  and  eradicate  false  lines  in 
teaching,  lack  of  theory  in  language,  and 
duplicity  in  the  very  atmosphere  of  the  sub- 
ject, all  this,  though  as  it  would  seem,  not 
very  prominent  because  of  the  thought  of  the 
practical  benefits,  lends  tremendous  support 
to  the  suggestions  of  the  reformers.  And 
when  one  adds  the  tremendous  waste  of  time 
during  which  the  child  crams  meaningless 
and  superfluous  spellings  into  an  otherwise 
better  employable  time  usable  in  expressing  his 
ideas,  or  in  studying  sciences  and  developing 
the  beginnings  of  his  culture,  the  argument 
is  further  strengthened.  For  what  rime  or 
reason  can  ever  explain  to  a  child  the  reasons 
for  the  sentence  constructed  by  Wailly  as  a 
proof  of  pronunciative  inanity:  Un  ana<:Aorete 
vint  avec  un  caterAumene  chercher  M.  1'ar- 
t/tev^que  ou  son  arcAidiacre  au  palais  arc^iepi- 
scopal. 

But  in  adopting  such  changes,  France  by 
that  beautful  similarity  which  prepetually  ex- 
ists between  herself  and  Greece,  would  then 
be  undergoing  a  process  analogous  to  the 
latter's  late  partly  successful  attempts  to 
modify  its  language  and  change  the  contem- 
poraneous to  the  classic. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  the  sphere  of 
poetry,  and  the  effects  of  phonetic  reform 
therein. 

Whether  we  agree  with  Sarcey,  or  believe 
with  M.  Psichari,  that : 


Un  ide"al  vient  d'apparaltre.  On  entrevoit  un 
vers  aux  rythmes  ies  plus  vane's  se  succe'dant 
dans  une  m£me  pi£ce ;  chacun  de  ces  rythmes 
se  proportionne  au  sentiment  ou  a  1'image ;  le 
deVeloppement  de  la  strophe  n'a  d'autre  regie 
que  le  deVeloppement  de  I'ide'e.  Le  rire  et 
Ies  larmes  se  melent :  des  envole"es  de  poe"sie 
c6te  a  cdte  avec  des  tristesses.  Une  ligne  de 
prose  parfois  viendra  a  se  montrer,  pour 
r^aliser  enftn  le  vceu  exprime"  par  Vigny,  qui 
demandait  le  r^citatif  apres  le  chant.  II  nous 
faudrait  un  Heine  en  vers  libres.  On  n'attend 
plus  que  le  poete. 

The  one  main  and  most  interesting  fact  is 
the  perpetuity  of  literary  principles.  The 
poetic  reform  is  back  to  Ronsard  who,  after 
his  attempts  at  Sapphic  and  polymorphous 
strophes,  settled  down  to  the  forms  of  his 
Franciade.  The  phonetic  reform  is  back  to 
Ronsard,  as  we  have  seen.  The  assonance  is 
back  to  the  purer  phoneticism  of  more  primi- 
tive French.  And  every  symbolical  theory 
which  is  to  combine  music  and  metre  and 
meaning,  and  make  of  "poetic  instrumenta- 
tion" the  medium  for  sonorous  and  simple 
representation  of  sense  by  shading  of  sound, 
is  only  a  renewal  of  the  scale  of  historical 
experiment  from  the  much-derided  "gram- 
matical physiology"  of  Moliere's  day  and 
description,  through  the  real  science  of  Leib- 
nitz' spoken  music  and  Helmholtz'  harmonic 
vowels,  to  the  pathos  of  hypothetical  theo- 
rizers,  with  their  ideas  of  colored  consonants, 
in  the  sad  little  story  of  Richepin:  Les  Qitatre 
K.  In  this  sense,  Symbolism  is  broader  than 
its  narrow  whimsicalities,  and  plays  its  full  part 
in  the  evolution  of  language  and  metrical 
literature. 

France,  then,  and  Reform  which  covers  the 
Grammatical  and  the  Philological,  the  Litera- 
ture and  the  art  of  the  Poetic,  have  a  large 
field  of  experiment  and  responsibility  open  to 
them.  We  return  to  our  first  statement.  The 
literary  laboratory  and  metric  standards  in 
the  aesthetics  of  writing,  like  their  scientific 
counterparts,  are  still,  for  initiative  and  impe- 
tus and  enthusiasm  of  discussion  pushed  even 
to  acrimony  of  criticism,  found  in  Paris.  As 
to  the  particular  questions  at  issue,  decisions 
are  difficult.  Yet  a  single  key  to  solution  may 
lie  in  the  common-sense  of  Somaize's  success- 
ful phonetic  proposer  and  reformer  Roxalie, 
quoted  in  his  Dictionnaire  des  Pretieuses,  for: 


136 


273 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


274 


"  Roxalie  dit  qu'il  faloit  faire  en  sorte  que  Ton 
put  ecrire  de  mesme  que  1'on  parlait".  Or  as 
Voltaire,  whose  caustic  wit,  clear  example, 
and  sound  judgment  are, so  much  needed  in 
this  instance,  wrote,  the  fifth  of  January,  1767, 
to  the  Abbe1  d'Olivet: 

J'ai  encore  une  autre  representation  a  vous 
faire.  Ne  serais-je  point  un  de  ces  te'me'raires 
que  vous  accusez  de  vouloir  changer  1'ortho- 
graphe?  J'avoue  qu'e"tant  tres  divot  a  saint 
Francois,  j'ai  voulu  le  distinguer  des  Francais; 
j'avoue  que  j'e"cris  Danois  et  Anglais.  II  m'a 
toujours  semble"  qu'on  doit  e"crire  comme  on 
parle,  pourvu  qu'on  ne  cheque  pas  trop 
1'usage,  pourvu  que  Ton  conserve  les  lettres 
qui  font  sentir  1'^tymologie  et  la  vraie  signifi- 
cation du  mot. 

A.  GUYOT  CAMERON. 
Yale  University. 


POEMS  OF  SHIRLEY  ATTRIBUTED 
TO  CAREW  AND  GOFFE. 

THERE  are  three  poems  which  appear  in  Poems 
by  Thomas  Carew,  Esq.,  1640,  and  in  Poems, 
etc.,  by  James  Shirley,  1646.  They  are:  I. 
To  His  Mistress  Confined,  beginning:  "Think 
not,  my  Phoebe,  'cause  a  cloud ; "  II.  A 
poem  variously  entitled :  The  Hue  and  Cry, 
or  Love's  Hue  and  Cry,  beginning:  "In 
Love's  name  you  are  charged  hereby;"  and 
III.  A  song,  beginning:  "Would  you  know 
what's  soft."  Besides  these  early  appearances, 
I.  was  published1  in  Festum  Voluptatis,  1639, 
as  by  Carew ;  II.  appeared  first  as  a  song  in 
Shirley's  The  Witty  Fair  One,  published  in 
1633,  though  licensed  as  early  as  1628,  and  is 
referable  (as  will  be  seen  below)  to  certain 
earlier  sources;  whilst  III.  appeared  only  as 
indicated  above.  There  are  likewise  differ- 
ences in  reading,  I.  omitting  the  third  of  the 
four  stanzas  in,  Shirley's  Poems;  II.  showing 
many  differences  and  ending,  in  both  the 
Poems  of  Carew  and  of  Shirley,  with  a  con- 
clusion different  from  the  version  in  the  play. 
In  the  works  of  each  poet  the  three  poems 
occur  near  together,  following  I.,  II.,  III.  in 
Shirley  with  no  more  than  the  intervention  of 
a  short  poem  between  II.  and  III.;  III.  com- 
ing first  in  Carew's  Poems,  again  with  but  one 
poem  intervening  between  it  and  I.  In  Shir- 
ley's Poems  these  three  are  amongst  the  first. 

i  On  the  authority  of  Brydges,  Restitute,  iv,  348. 


In  Carew,  on  the  contrary,  they  appear  towards 
the  end  of  the  volume  with  some  other  things, 
the  authorship  of  which  may  be  doubtful.3 
Carew's  volume  was  posthumous,  appearing  a 
year,  or  perhaps  two,  after  his  death  ;  Shirley, 
one  of  the  most  painstaking  authors  of  his 
day,  cherished  his  literary  offspring,  and  ap- 
parently gave  them  to  the  press  only  after 
careful  correction.  In  a  Postscript  to  the 
Reader,  in  the  edition  of  his  Poems  under 
consideration,  Shirley  writes  thus: 

"  I  had  no  intention  upon  the  birth  of  these 
poems,  to  let  them  proceed  to  the  public  view. 
.  .  .  But  when  I  observed  most  of  these  copies 
corrupted  in  their  transcripts,  and  the  rest 
fleeting  from  me,  which  were  by  some  indis- 
creet collector,  not  acquainted  with  distribu- 
tive justice,  mingled  with  other  men's  (some 
eminent)  conceptions  in  print,  I  thought  my- 
self concerned  to  use  some  vindication,  and 
reduce  them  to  my  own,  without  any  pride  or 
design  of  deriving  opinion  from  their  worth, 
but  to  show  my  charity,  that  other  innocent 
men  should  not  answer  for  my  vanities. "3 

The  external  evidence  in  the  case  then 
points  to  Shirley  as  the  author  of  the  three 
poems  in  question. 

If  we  consider  the  poems  themselves,  while 
all  possess  a  lyric  quality  more  or  less  high, 
all  are  peculiar  and  alike  in  exhibiting  a  study 
of  previous  models,  a  variation  on  themes 
already  known,  and  even  at  points  a  reminis- 
cence of  phrase  and  turns  of  thought.  I  shall 
examine  each  with  reference  to  these  qualities: 

I.  In  the  first  stanza  of  To  His  Mistress 
Confined  we  meet  the  expression  : 

Think  not 

My  wandering  eye 
Can  stoop  to  common  beauties  of  the  sky, 

which  suggests  Sir  Henry  Wotton's  well-known 
lines,  written  about  1620 : 

You  meaner  beauties  of  the  night, 


You  common  people  of  the  sky, 

In  the  same  stanza  below,  we  have  : 

For  we  will  meet 
Within  our  hearts,  and  kiss,  when  none  shall  see't. 

So  in  an  ode  in  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody, 
1602,  reasonably  attributed  to  Donne,  we  find: 

By  absence  this  good  means  I  gain, 

That  I  can  catch  her, 

Where  none  can  watch  her 
a  Cf.  certain  poems  of  Herrick  therein. 
3   Works  of  Shirley,  ed.  Gifford  and  Dyce,  vi,  461. 


137 


275 


May,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


276 


In  some  close  corner  of  my  brain  ; 
There  I  embrace  and  kiss  her; 
And  so  I  both  enjoy  and  miss  her. 

The  entire  third  stanza  is  modelled  on  a 
poem  of  Campion's  Of  Corinna's  Singing, 
first  published  in  1601 :  both  are  too  long  to 
quote  here.  Indeed  other  parallels  in  the 
same  poem  might  not  be  far  to  seek. 

II.  In   Love's  Hue  and  Cry,  we  have   a 
more  interesting  instance  of  the  art  of  working 
originality  out  of  a  set  model.    The  first  idyl 
of  Moschus,v£'/3&3£  d pan ErffS  (Amor  Fugitivus) 
represents  Aphrodite  as  raising  a  hue  and  cry 
after  Eros  who  has  run  away.    She  describes 
the  tokens  by  which  Love  may  be  known,  and 
ends  by  telling  her  hearer  that  he  may  escape 
Love's  deadly  bolts,  but  he  must  most  beware 
Love's  kisses  and  his  gifts.    In  1608  Jonson 
translated  this  idyl  bodily  (it  had  previously 
been  translated  by  Barnes)  and  made  it  a  part 
of  his  masque  for  Lord  Haddington's  wedding. 
Far  later  the  idyl  was  much  more  poetically 
translated  by  Crashaw  under  the  title  Cupid's 
Crier,  Out  of  the  Greek  A    In  the  1619  edition 
of  Drayton's   Poems  is  a  very  pretty  poem 
entitled  The  Crier,  plainly  suggested  by  Mos- 
chus,  but  cleverly  varied.     In  it  the  proclama- 
tion made  by  a  lover  is  general :  "  Good  folk, 
for  gold  or  hire,"  he  begins;  his  heart  has 
strayed  and  he  offers  a  description  of  the  stray 
with  a  prayer  for  its  safe  return.     Lastly  comes 
Shirley — or  Carew — with  a  further  variation 
on  the  same  theme,  the  poem  under  discus- 
sion.    Here  the  address  is,  as  with  Drayton, 
general ;  but  the  culprit  is  : 

A  face,  that  t'other  day 

Stole  my  wandering  heart  away. 

The  fair  culprit  is  then  described  and  the 
end,  closely  imitating  Moschus,  assures  the 
hearers  that  they  may  possibly  escape  the 
effects  of  the  beauty  of  the  fair  felon,  but  that 
they  must  beware  her  voice  : 

For  if  your  ear 

Shall  once  a  heavenly  music  hear 
Such  as  neither  gods  nor  men 
But  from  that  voice  shall  hear  again, 
That,  that  is  she. 

III.  The  third  poem  under  consideration  is 
a  direct  imitation  of  the  third  stanza  of  Jon- 
son's    Triumph  of   Charis,   which   appeared 

4  See  The  Delights  of  the  Muses,  Crashaw,  ed.  1858,  p. 
120,  and  Jonson,yi>/w  1640,  i,  152. 


first  as  a  song  in  The  Devil  is  an  Ass,  1631, 
acted  in  1616.  It  will  be  remembered  that 
these  familiar  lines  begin  : 

Have  you  seen  the  bright  lily  grow 
Before  rude  hands  have  touched  it; 

and  close : 

Have  you  felt  the  wool  o'  the  beaver? 

Or  swan's  down  ever? 
Or  have  smelt  o'  the  bud  o'  the  briar 

Or  the  nard  i'  the  fire? 
Or  have  tasted  the  bag  o'  the  bee  ? 
O  so  white,  O  so  soft,  O  so  sweet  is  she. 

Here  is  the  imitation  of  Shirley — or  Carew: 

Would  you  know  what's  soft,  I  dare 
Nor  bring  you  to  the  down,  or  air, 
Nor  to  the  stars  to  show  what's  bright, 
Nor  to  the  snow  to  teach  you  white; 
Nor,  if  you  would  mus:.c  hear, 
.  Call  the  orbs  to  take  your  ear  ; 
Nor  to  please  your  sense,  bring  forth 
Bruised  nard,  or  what's  more  worth  ; 
Or  on  food  were  your  thoughts  placed, 
Bring  you  nectar  for  a  taste  : 
Would  you  have  all  these  in  one, 
Name  my  mistress,  and  'tis  done.S 

It  will  be  perceived  that  the  method  of  all 
of  these  poems  is  that  of  the  artist  who  rings 
new  changes  upon  themes  already  in  exis- 
tence, a  man  who  is  a  student  of  the  past  and 
who  profits  by  the  past  somewhat  to  the  detri- 
ment of  his  originality.  Such  a  man  was 
Shirley  indubitably ;  and  such  a  man  as  in- 
dubitably Carew  was  not,  whose  delicately 
wrought  and  finely  polished  lyrics  confess 
neither  the  paternity  of  Jonson  nor  of  Donne, 
but  sparkle  with  an  originality  all  their  own. 
As  to  the  intrinsic  excellence  of  these  three 
lyrics,  the  last  may  be  dismissed  as  certainly 
not  of  a  high  class.  The  other  two  are  very 
good  in  their  kind  ;  and  if  it  be  objected  that 
they  are  too  good  for  Shirley,  it  must  be 
recalled  that  if  Carew  is  the  author  of  "Ask 
me  no  more  where  Jove  bestows,"  it  was 
Shirley  that  wrote  the  immortal  lines  : 

The  glories  of  our  blood  and  state 
Are  shadows,  not  substantial  things. 

It  is  worth  while  to  note  that  these  are  not 
the  only  poems  of  Shirley  which  were  con- 
fused with  the  work  of  others.  Thus  the  first 
song  of  The  Triumph  of  Beauty,  "Heighho, 
what  shall  a  shepherd  do,"  and  the  verses 

5  Cf.  Suckling's  parody  The  False  One  in  his  play,  The 
Sad  One,  left  unfinished,  about  1640. 


138 


277 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.    Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


278 


beginning  "Now  fie  on  foolish  love,"  both 
published  in  Shirley's  volume  of  1646,  appear 
as  incidental  lyrics  in  Thomas  Goffe's  Care- 
less Shepherdess,  published  in  1656,  though 
first  performed  far  earlier.  The  latter  of  these 
songs  varies  materially  in  Goffe's  play,  ap- 
pearing there  in  a  longer  and  superior  version. 
There  seems,  however,  no  good  reason  for 
depriving  Shirley  of  either  of  these  poems, 
especially  when  it  is  remembered  that  pub- 
lishers of  the  time  not  infrequently  supplied 
the  incidental  songs  of  plays  from  whatever 
sources  they  may  have  had  at  hand. 

In  conclusion  it  may  be  noticed  that  Dyce, 
who  records  the  fact  that  the  poems  discussed 
in  the  body  of  this  note  appear  in  the  works 
of  both  Carew  and  Shirley,  ventures  no 
opinion  as  to  their  probable  authorship  ;6  that 
Mr.  Bullen  prints  Love's  Hue  and  Cry  from 
the  play  as  Shirley's  without  note  or  com- 
ment ;?  and  that  Mr.  H.  C.  Hazlitt,  of  whom 
it  is  always  difficult  to  speak  with  patience, 
claims  all  three  poems  for  Carew,  whom  he 
happens  to  be  editing;  incontinently  includes 
Drayton's  Crier  as  a  version  because  it  has  a 
similar  title,  claiming  it  also  for  Carew;  says 
that  Dyce  did  not  know  of  the  insertion  of  the 
Hue  and  Cry  in  the  works  of  Carew;  and, 
happening  on  Dyce's  notes  before  his  own 
editorial  work  was  complete,  concludes  his 
exhibition  of  incompetency  by  eating  his  own 
words  in  his  "  Index  and  Notes." 

FELIX  E.  SCHELLING. 
University  of  Pennsylvania. 


EMILE  ZOLA. 

IL  y  a  peu  d'hommes  qui  aient  autant  occupe 
1'opinion  publique  de  leur  personnalite"  que 
Zola,  etje  sais  tel  libraire  des  Etats-Unis  qui 
a  vendu  plus  de  dix  mille  exemplaires  de  cer- 
tain de  ses  ouvrages.  Si  Ton  considere  main- 
tenant  que  cinquante  pour  cent  de  ses  romans 
se  sont  vendus  hors  de  France  on  s'explique 
qu'il  ait  e^e"  si  fort  en  evidence  depuis  tantdt 
vingt  ans. 

Certains  critiques  se  sont  obstine"s  a  ne  le 
considerer  que  comme  un  mystificateur  qui  a 
re"ussi  a  se  "  faire  des  rentes  "  aux  d^pens  du 

6  Works  of  Shirley,  vi ,  409-41 1 . 

7  Lyrics  front  thr  Dramatists  of  the  Elizabethan  Age,  p 
178. 


bon  public  .  .  .  c'est,  disent-ils,  un  homme 
qui  n'a  fait  que  de  me'diocres  Etudes  et  qui 
s'estjete  dans  les  lettres  pour  y  exploiter  les 
mauvaises  passions  de  ses  semblables  et  ar- 
rivcr  ainsi  a  la  fortune.  D'autres,  ses  admira- 
teurs  (et  le  nombre  en  a  beaucoup  diminue'), 
ne  veulent  voir  en  lui  que  le  grand  prfitre 
d'une  ecole  de  litte'rature.  Zola  immoral, 
s'ecrient-ils,  mais  que  direz-vous  des  Merits  de 
Brant6me,  de  Boccace,  de  la  reine  de  Navarre; 
de  ceux  de  Rabelais,  des  contes  de  la  Fon- 
taine et  m£me  de  certaines  des  ceuvres  de 
Shakespeare?  Us  pensent  avec  le  Cure*  de 
Meudon  qu'il  ne  fatit  pas  juger  la  noix  d'aprds 
son  brou,  mais  qu'il  la  faut  briser  pour  arriver 
au  fruit,  et  le  fruit  c'est,  selon  etix,  une  etude 
consciencieuse,  profonde,  infiniment  analyti- 
que  et  difife'rencie'e  de  1'humanite',  de  ses 
faiblesses,  de  ses  passions  et  de  leurs  effets 
tant  au  point  de  vue  he're'ditaire  qu'au  point 
de  vue  social. 

Une  troisieme  classe  de  litterateurs  pensent 
que  Zola  n'est  qu'un  homme  a  1'ame  de"bor- 
dante  de  "sple'ne'tique  rancoeur"  dont  les 
premieres  impressions  dans  la  vie  ont  e^e" 
mauvaises  et  qui  ne  veut  voir  dans  ce  monde 
que  mis£res  et  douleurs.  Avouerons-nous 
que  les  uns  ni  les  autres  ne  nous  inte"ressent  et 
que,  selon  nous,  on  ne  saurait  juger  notre 
auteur  qu'au  point  de  vue  de  1'art.  Qu'il  soit 
un  mystificateur,  un  observateur  sans  £gal  ou 
un  abominable  pessimiste,  peu  importe,  et 
toute  la  question  se  resume  a  ceci :  Le  natu- 
ralisme  en  litte'rature  peut-il  £tre  consid^re" 
comme  un  art?  Si  Ton  s'en  rapporte  aux 
ecrivains  d'il  y  a  vingt-cinq  ans,  voire  m6me  a 
beaucoup  de  ceux  de  nos  jours,  le  naturalisme 
serait  tout  simplement  "  1'abomination  de  la 
desolation."  "  L'art,  a  dit  G.  Sand,  n'est  pas 
une  etude  de  la  realite  positive,  mais  une  libre 
recherche  de  la  verite  ide"ale."  "  II  n'est  pas 
d'art  naturaliste,  a  ajoute"  Anatole  France,  il 
n'en  fut  et  n'en  sera  jamais;  les  termes  d'art 
et  de  nature  sont  contradictoires." 

Notre  auteur  au  contraire  affirme  que  "  1'art 
consiste  a  etudier  1'homme  tel  qu'il  est,  non 
plus  le  pantin  me'taphysique,  mais  1'homme 
physiologique,  determine"  par  le  milieu,  agis- 

sant  sous  le  jeu  de  tous  ses  organes Qui 

dit  psychologue  dit  trattre  a  la  verite"." 

Placons-nous,  si  vous  le  voulez  bien,  a  son 


139 


279 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


28) 


point  de  vue  et  voyons  s'il  est  reste"  fiddle  aux 
theories  qu'il  s'6tait  tracers. 

L'oeuvre  principale  de  Zola  c'est :  "  Les 
Rougon-Macquart,  histoire  naturelle  et  sociale 
d'une  famille  sous  le  second  empire."  II  con- 
vient  de  remarquer  d'abord  que  Le  Docteur 
Pascal,  le  dernier  ouvrage  de  laseVie,  n'ayant 
paru  qu'en  1893,  1'auteur  s'est  trouve"  de"pein- 
dre  des  personnages  et  des  conditions  sociales 
qui  avaient  cesse"  d'exister  depuis  pr6s  d'un 
quart  de  si£cle.  Or,  depuis  cette  e"poque,  le 
monde  a  march?1  et  comme  Zola  vit  depuis 
des  ann£es  loin  de  Paris,  en  ermite,  dans  une 
solitude  farouche  et  qu'il  n'a  pour  conseillers 
que  les  souvenirs  et  les  impressions  de  sa 
jeunesse,  il  s'en  suit  que  1'observation  directe 
et  re"cente  fait  eVidemment  deTaut  dans  ses 
romans.  II  voit  les  choses  comme  elles  6taient 
il  y  a  longtemps  deja,  il  re"tre"cit  ainsi  a  plaisir 
son  horizon,  il  amoindrit  de'mesure'ment  sa 
perspective  sans  s'apercevoir  que  le  monde 
est  infiniment  plus  vaste,  plus  vane"  et  que 
selon  1'expression  de  Renan  "notre  siecle 
n'aura  probablement  pas  e'te'  le  plus  grand 
mais  qu'il  sera  tenu  sans  doute  pour  le  plus 
amusant  des  siecles." 

L'impression  (dirai-je  la  sensation  ?)  qui  se 
de"gage  de  la  lecture  de  n'importe  quel  livre 
de  Zola  est  une  impression  d'exageVation. 
Quand  on  a  fini  un  de  ses  ouvrages,  on  est 
abasourdi,  e'crase',  an£anti  mais  on  se  dit : 
tout  cela  n'est  pas  vrai.  Zola  est  avant  tout 
un  "outrancier,"  tout  chez  lui  est  hyperboli- 
que,  tout  vit  d'une  vie  surhumaine,  terrible,  et 
il  n'est  pas  conse"quemment  un  romancier 
veYidique  quoique  ce  soit  la  sa  grande  pre"- 
tention. 

Un  autre  point  sur  lequel  il  importe  de  faire 
la  lumiere,  c'est  que  tous  ou  presque  tous  ses 
personnages  parlent  la  meme  langue,  se  ser- 
vent  des  m6mes  expressions  brutales  et  gros- 
sieres.  Etrange  monde  ou  les  ouvriers  (I'As- 
sommoir),  les  artistes  (/'  (Euvre),  les  bourgeois 
(Pot-Bouille),  les  mineurs  (Germinal),  les 
paysans  (la  Terre),  les  commercants  (Au  Bon- 
heur  des  Dames],  etc.,  s'expriment  de  la  me"me 
maniere,  ou  ne  se  trouve  qu'a  de  rares  inter- 
valles  un  personnage  respectable  ....  ap- 
parent rari  nantes  in  gurgite  vasto.  Et  ses 
"choses"  nous  paraissent  vivre  d'une  vie  plus 
re"elle  que  ses  "  marionnettes  humaines"  en 


ce  sens  que  les  objets  ne  pouvant  6tre  vus  que 
sous  1'aspect  qu'ils  ont  re"ellement,  il  en  d£- 
coule,  qu'e"tant  donne"  le  talent  de  description 
de  Pauteur,  ils  nous  parlent  davantage  a  1'Sme 
par  la  raison  bien  simple  qu'ils  ne  sauraient 
£tre  fausse"s  par  1'^crivain.  Un  paysage,  une 
mine,  une  locomotive,  un  magasin  ne  sauraient 
e"tre  autre  chose  que  ce  qu'ils  sont,  tandis 
que,  par  sa  persistance  a  ne  vouloir  voir  les 
hommes  que  par  leurs  mauvais  c6te"s,  les 
personnages  des  Rougon-Macquart  nous  fati- 
guent  d'abord,  nous  re"pugnent  ensuite  mais 
ne  nous  £meuvent  jamais. 

Et  avec  tout  cela,  Zola  est  un  grand  artiste 
et  un  grand  travailleur.  Une  de  ses  vertus, 
c'est  la  vigueur  infatigable  et  patiente.  Quand 
on  songe  a  1'immense  labeur  qu'a  accompli 
cet  homme  de  cinquante  et  quelques  anne"es 
(il  est  ne~  en  1840)  on  demeure  stupeTait,  on  est 
selon  1'expression  de  Bossuet  "  confondu  par 
la  grandeur  du  sujet." 

Les  Rougon-Macquart  comprennent  vingt 
volumes  de  quatre  cent  cinquante  pages  en 
moyenne ;  ses  autres  ouvrages  en  forment 
vingt  autres :  c'est  done  un  ensemble  de 
quarante  volumes  repr^sentant  au  total  environ 
dix-huit  mille  pages.  Si  1'on  consid£re  que 
chaque  page  imprime'e  correspond  a  quatre 
pages  manuscrites,  on  en  arrive  au  chiffre 
e"norme  de  soixante-douze  mille  pages,  sans 
compter  les  innombrables  articles  de  journaux 
qui,  re'unis,  formeraient  probablement  quinze 
tomes  de  plus. 

Son  style  ?  II  n'est  pas  toujours  impeccable, 
on  y  rencontre  des  phrases  mal  construites, 
des  provincialismes ;  mais  les  tableaux  qu'il 
nous  donne  sont  largement  brosse"s  te"moin 
cette  description  d'une  journe"e  d'hiver  a  Paris: 

"  Sur  la  ville,  un  ciel  bleu,  sans  unetache, 
se  d^ployait.  C'e"tait  un  bleu  limpide,  tres 
pale,  a  peine  un  reflet  bleu  dans  la  blancheur 
du  soleil.  L'astre,  bas  sur  1'horizon,  avait 
un  e"clat  de  lampe  d'argent.  II  brulait  sans 
chaleur,  dans  la  reverberation  de  la  neige,  au 
milieu  de  1'air  glace".  De  vastes  toitures,  les 
ardoises  des  maisons  e"talaient  des  draps 
blancs  curie's  de  noir.  Le  carre"  du  champ- 
de-Mars  d^roulait  une  steppe  ou  des  points 
sombres,  des  voitures  perdues,  faisaient  songer 
a  des  tralneaux  russes  filant  avec  un  bruit  de 
clochettes;  tandis  que  les  ormes  du  quai 
d'Orsay  rapetisses  par  1'eioignement,  alignai- 
ent  des  floraisons  de  fins  cristaux,  heVissant 
leurs  aiguilles.  Dans  rimmobilite'  de  cette 


140 


28l 


May,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


282 


mer  de  glace,  la  Seine  roulait  des  eaux  ter- 
reuses,  entre  des  berges  qui  la  bordaient 
d'hermine;  elle  charriait  depuis  la  veille,  et 
Ton  distinguait  nettement,  centre  les  piles 
du  pont  des  Invalides,  1'^crasement  des 
blocs  s'engouffrant  sous  les  arches.  Puis,  les 
ponts  s'e'chelonnaient,  pareils  a  des  dentelles 
blanches,  de  plus  en  plus  dedicates,  jusqu'aux 
roches  e"clatantes  de  la  Cite",  que  les  tours  de 
Notre-Dame  surmontaient  de  leurs  pics  nei- 
geux.  D'autres  pointes,  a  gauche,  trouaient  la 
plaine  uniforme  des  quartiers.  Saint-Augustin, 
rOpeYa,  la  tour  Saint-Jacques,  e"taient  comme 
des  monts  ou  regnent  les  neiges  e'ternelles ; 
les  pavilions  des  Tuileries  et  du  Louvre,  relic's 
par  lesnouveaux  bfitiments,  dessinaient  1'arete 
d'une  chalne  aux  sommets  immacule's.  Et 
c'e"taient  encore  les  cimes  blanchies  des  In- 
valides, de  Saint-Sulpice,  du  Pantheon  pro- 
filant  stir  1'azur  un  palais  du  r6ve,  avec  des 
reye'tements  de  marbre  bleuatre.  Pas  une 
voix  ne  montait.  Des  rues  se  devinaient  a 
des  fentes  grises,  des  carrefours  semblaient 
s'^tre  creuse"s  dans  un  craquement.  Les 
nappes  de  neige,  ensuite,  se  confondaient,  se 
perdaient  en  un  lointain  eblouissant,  en  un  lac 
dont  les  ombres  bleues  prolongeaient  le  bleu 
du  ciel.  Paris,  immense  et  clair,  dans  la 
vivacite"  de  cette  gele"e,  luisait  sous  le  soleil 
d'argent,"1 

ou  encore  il  eVoque  devant  nos  yeux  1'un  de 
ces  magasms  gigantesques,  produits  de  la 
prodigieuse  activite"  de  notre  e"poque  : 

"En  bas  continuait  le  remous  de  la  foule, 
dont  le  double  courant  d 'entree  et  de  sortie  se 
faisait  sentir  jusqu'au  rayon  de  la  soie :  foule 
tr£s  me'le'e  oil  pourtant  1'apres-midi  amenait 
davantage  de  dames,  parmi  les  petites  bour- 
geoises et  les  me'nageres;  beaucoup  de  femmes 
en  deuil,  avec  leurs  grands  voiles ;  toujours 
des  nourrices  fourvoye"es,  prote"geant  leurs 
poupons  de  leurs  coudes  e"largis.  Et  cette 
mer,  ces  chapeaux  bariol^s,  ces  cheveux  nus, 
blonds  ou  noirs,  roulaient  d'un  bout  de  la 
galerie  a  1'autre,  confus  et  de'colore's  au  milieu 
de  1'^clat  vibrant  des  etoffes.  On  ne  voyait 
de  toutes  parts  que  les  grandes  pancartes,  aux 
chiffres  e'normes,  dont  les  taches  crues  se 
de"tachaient  sur  les  indiennes  vives,  les  soies 
luisantes,  les  lainages  sombres.  Des  piles  de 
rubans  e"cornaient  les  t£tes,  un  mur  de  flanelle 
avancait  un  promontoire,  partout  les  glaces 
reculaient  les  magasins,  refl^taient  des  e"talages 
avec  des  coins  du  public,  des  visages  renverse"s, 
des  moire's  d'^paules  et  de  bras;  pendant 
que,  a  gauche,  a  droite,  les  galeries  lat^rales 
ouvraient  des  e'chappe'es,  les  enfoncements 
neigeux  du  blanc,  les  profondeurs  mouchet^es 
de  la  bonneterie,  lointains  perdus,  e'claire's  par 
le  coup  de  lumiere  de  quelque  baie  vitr^e, 

i   Une  Pa  ft  tC Amour. 


et  ou  la  foule  n'^tait  plus  qu'une  poussiere 
hiiin.  line.  Puis,  lorsqu'on  Tevait  les  yeux, 
c'^tait,  le  long  des  escaliers,  sur  les  ponts 
volants,  autour  des  rampes  de  chaque  e"tage, 
une  monte'e  continue  et  bourdonnante,  tout 
un  peuple  en  1'air,  voyageant  dans  les  d£- 
coupures  de  l'e"nornie  charpente  m^tallique  se 
dessinant  en  noir  sur  la  clart^  diffuse  des 
vitres  ^maill^es.  De  grands  lustres  dore"s 
descendaient  du  plafond;  un  pavoisement  de 
tapis,  de  soies  brode"es,  d'etoflfes  lam^es  d'or, 
retombait,  tendait  les  balustrades  de  banni^res 
^clatantes  ;  il  y  avail  d'un  bout  a  1'autre,  des 
vols  de  dentelles,  des  palpitations  de  mous- 
seline,  des  trophies  de  soieries,  des  apotheoses 
de  mannequins  a  demi  v^tus  ;  et,  au-dessus 
de  cette  confusion,  tout  en  haut,  le  rayon  de 
la  literie,  comme  suspendu,  mettait  des  petits 
lits  de  fer  garnis  de  leurs  rideaux  blancs,  un 
dortoir  de  pensionnaires  dormait  dans  le 
pi^tinement  de  la  clientele,  plus  rare  a  mesure 
que  les  rayons  s'e"levaient  davantage."* 

Quelquefois  il  excelle  a  d^peindre  d'un  trait 
de  plume;  une  phrase  souvent  contient  tout 
un  tableau  : 

"La  Comtesse  de  Beauvilliers  ^tait  une  grande 
femme  maigre  de  soixante  ans,  toute  blanche, 
1'air  tres  noble,  un  pen  suranne'e.  Avec  son 
grand  nez  droit,  ses  l^vres  minces,  son  cou 
particulierement  long,  elle  avait  1'air  d'un 
cygne  tr£s  ancien  d'une  douceur 


II  lui  arrive  de  trouver  des  accents  profonds 
pour  nous  raconter  la  mort  d'un  animal  (voir 
la  mort  du  cheval  de  mine  dans  Germinal}, 
mais,  somme  toute,  c'est  l'exage"ration  qui 
domine  et  notre  auteur  n'est  pas  un  romancier 
naturaliste  si  Ton  doit  entendre  par  ce  terme 
rttude  de  la  nature  telle  qu'elle  est  sans 
ornements  et  sans  restrictions  ;  c'est  un  po&te 
au  sens  e"tymologique  du  mot,  c'est  un  cre"a- 
teur  pour  qui  tout  se  materialise  et  s'exaspdre, 
c'est  un  ge"nie  triste  et  robuste  qui  a  le  don  de 
la  vision  concrete  et  de'mesure'e.  C'est  un 
poete  aussi  dans  ce  sens  que,  comme  eux,  il 
se  plait  a  1'accumulation  des  details..  Comme 
eux  il  donne  la  vie  aux  6tres  inanime's,  (voir 
dans  la  Bete  humaine  1  'accident  de  chemin  de 
fer,  et  dans  Germinal  la  description  de  la 
machine  d'e"puisement  de  la  mine),  et  pour 
bien  nous  le  faire  entendre,  il  n'h6site  pas  aux 
repetitions  qui  a  chaque  page  se  retrouvent 
sous  sa  plume  comme  le  "Leitmotiv"  des  me"- 

2  AH  Bonheur  ties  Dames. 

3  L'  Argent. 


141 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTJSS.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


284 


lodies  allemandes  ou  le  itoXv<pXo<jfiolo  QaXdd- 
tfij~,  de  1'Iliade. 

Pour  nous  re'sumer  nous  croyons  qu'un  de 
ses  critiques  s'est  trouve1  bien  pres  de  la  ve'rite' 
quand  il  a  de'fini  les  Rougon- Mac  quart  "  une 
e'pope'e  pessimiste  de  l'animalit£  humaine."4 

C.  FONTAINE. 
Central  High  School,   Washington  City. 


THE  DIALECT  OF  THE  RIES. 
I.  GEOGRAPHY  AND  ETHNOGRAPHY. 
THE  Ries  is  a  district  situated  in  the  south- 
western part  of  Germany  a  few  miles  north  of 
the  Danube,  the  greater  part  belonging  to  the 
kingdom  of  Bavaria,  the  north-western  part  to 
the  kingdom  of  Wurttemberg.  It  is  a  con- 
cave plain  about  fifty  to  sixty  miles  in  circum- 
ference, including  the  towns:  Oettingen.Wem- 
ding,  Harburg  on  the  one  side  (northeast  and 
southeast),  and  Deggingen,  Kirchheim,  Markt- 
offingen  on  the  other  side  (southwest  and 
northwest).1 

The  Ries  with  its  surrounding  hills  forms 
a  beautiful  landscape.  The  plain  stretches  out 
before  us  like  the  surface  of  a  lake,  bounded 
on  the  west,  near  the  city  of  Bopfingen  in 
Wurttemberg,  by  the  so-called  '  Haertsfeld,' 
a  tableland  covered  by  a  forest,  on  the  north- 

4  (EUVRES  DE  ZOLA. 

LES    ROUGON-MACQUART, 

HISTOIRE  NATURELLK  ET  SOCIALE  D'UNE  FAMILLB  SOUS  LE 

SECOND  EMPIRE; 

La  Fortune  des  Rougon,  La  Curee,  Le  Ventre  de  Paris, 
La  Conqu'te  de  Plassans,  La  Faute  de  1'AbW  Mouret,  Son 
Excellence  Eugene  Rougon, L'Assommoir.Une  Page  d'Amour, 
Nana,  Pot-Bouille,  Au  Bonheur  des  Dames,  La  Joie  de 
Vivre,  Germinal,  L'CEuvre,  La  Terre,  Le  RSve,  La  B'te 
Humaine,  L' Argent,  La  Debacle,  Le  Docteur  Pascal. 

ROMANS  ET  NOUVELLES. 

Th^rese  Raquin,  Madeleine  Fi'rat,  La  Confession  de  Claude, 
Contes  &  Ninon,  Nouveaux  Contes  a  Ninon,  Le  Capitaine 
ISurle,  Nals  Micoulin,  Les  Mystferes  de  Marseille. 

CEUVRES  CRITIQUES. 

Mes  Haines,  Le  Roman  Experimental,  Les  Romanciers 
Naturalistes,  Le  Naturalisme  au  Theatre,  Nos  Auteurs 
Dnimatiques,  Documents  Littdraires,  Une  Campagne,  1880- 
1881. 

THEATRE. 

Th^rese  Raquin. — Les  He>itiers  Rabourdin. — Le  Bouton 
de  Rose.  Lourdes,  (en preparation),  Rome,  Paris. 

i  Cf.  Monninger,  D»s  Ries,  p.  i  ff. 


ern  end  of  which  stands  the  hills  Ipf  (frequently 
called  the  'Nipf'),  Flochberg  with  the  ruins 
of  an  old  castle  on  its  summit,  Blasienberg 
and  Hohenbaldern,  like  sentinels  guarding 
the  Swabian  Jura.  The  Southern  boundary  is 
a  range  of  hills  including  the  Rauhe  Wanne 
(near  Bollstadt)  which  is  the  highest,  and 
those  of  Bock,  Huehnerberg  and  Rollenberg 
near  Harburg.  On  the  east  rises  the  Hahnen- 
kamm  which  is  the  most  Western  line  of  the 
Prankish  Jura.  On  the  north  is  the  Hessel- 
berg,  like  a  landmark  between  the  Prankish 
plains  and  Swabia. 

The  Ries  is  intersected  by  two  ranges 
of  hills.  The  Western  series  runs  like  a 
tongue  of  land  from  the  '  Albuch '  and 
'  Schoenefeld '  as  far  as  the  river  Eger.  Its 
several  heights  are  called  Adlersberg,  Stof- 
felsberg  and  Henkelberg  (Marienhohe).  The 
Eastern  range  consists  of  the  elevations  Spitz- 
berg,  Schlossberg  of  Alerheim  and  Wennen- 
berg  between  the  rivers  Eger  and  Woernitz. 
The  greater  river,  which  runs  through  the 
Ries  is  the  Woernitz,  already  mentioned.  In 
the  ninth  century  it  was  called  Warinza,  in 
the  eleventh  Werinze,  in  the  year  1262 
Wernze.2  The  other  is  the  Eger,  less  impor- 
tant as  to  its  size,  as  it  is  only  a  tributary  of 
the  Woernitz,  but  more  important  as  to  its 
name  which  occurs  already  in  documents  as 
early  as  760.  According  to  Eccard,3  in  the 
year  760,  king  Pipin  granted  to  the  clois- 
ter Fulda  a  "villa,  quae  dicitur  Thininga 
(which  is  doubtless  the  village  Deiningen  near 
Nordlingen)  sitam  in  pago  Rezi  super  fluvio 
qui  vocatur  Agira  (Eger)." 

The  origin  of  the  name  Ries  according  to 
Professor  Mayer  (see  Ortsnamenim  Ries,  p.  10) 
is  uncertain.  He  asserts,  as  the  result'of  his 
investigations,  that  the  oldest  forms  of  this 
name  are : 

"  Rezi  anno  742,  Riezha  8th  century,  Rehtsa 
866,  pagus  Retiensis  898,  pagus  Riezzin  in 
1007,  Rhecia  1016,  pagus  Rieze  1030,  Riez 
1188,  Retia  1248,  Rieshalde — the  range  of  hills 
on  the  Southern  boundary  of  the  Ries — 1258, 
Recia  and  Riess  1429." 

In  my  opinion  these  forms  compel  us  to  cor- 
nect  the  name  Ries  with  the  old  Roman  pro- 

2  Cf.  Mayer,  Ortsnamen  im  Ries,  p.  19. 

3  Cf.  Schmeller,  Bayr.  Wb.  ii,  F.  or  i,  570,  p.  149. 


142 


May,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


285 


vince  Rcztia  (Rhaetia).4  We  have  no  reason 
to  doubt  that  the  name  Ries  is  derived  from 
the  Roman  R&tia,  that  province  in  which 
was  situated  the  famous  colony  Augusta  Vin- 
delicorum,  the  present  city  of  Augsburg,  which 
in  the  sixteenth  century  still  belonged  to  the 
Ries.s 

The  capital  of  the  present  Ries  is  Nordlin- 
gen.  A  document  of  898  (codex  diplom. 
Ratisb.)  mentions  the  "  curtis  Nordilinga  in 
pago  Retiensi  constitutam."6 

Already  in  the  times  of  the  Romans  a  net- 
work of  roads  covered  the  Ries.  The  pre- 
sent roads,  it  is  said,  are  built  on  the  old 
ones.  One  of  the  most  important  was  the 
highway,  which  coming  from  Aalen  (ancient 
Aquileja),  enters  the  Ries  near  Bopfingen,  the 
converging  point  of  five  Roman  streets.  Then, 
after  leaving  the  Ries,  it  turns  eastward  to  It- 
zing  (Iciniacus)  passing  the  towns  of  Maihingen 
(Septemiaci),  Oettingen  (Losodica),  and  the 
Markhof  (Medianus)  between  Harburg  and 
Wemding.  The  limes,  which  is  the  Roman 
boundary  line  and  to  which  many  towers  and 
castles  were  adjoined,  is  near  the  Ries  and  is 
at  present  being  uncovered  by  archaeologists. 
Interesting  fortified  camps  (castella)  have 
been  discovered  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
district  (near  Wassertrtiedingen,  Weissenburg 
a.  S.).  From  all  this  we  may  conclude  with 
certainty,  that  Rh&tia  and  Ries  are  identical; 
Rh<ztia>  Ries=Gr£ecus>  Grieche. 

When  Prof.  Mayer  (p.  u)  remarks,  that  the 
name  R&tia  is  generally  believed  to  come 
from  the  celtic  root  mi/which  means  '  a  moun; 
tainous  country,'  a  meaning  which  he  thinks 
is  incompatible  with  the  fact  that  the  present 
Ries  is  a  plain,  we  cannot  but  remind  him  of 
his  own  statement,  that  the  territory  of  the 
old  Rhaetia  was  an  immense  one,  extending 
"  vom  Kanal  und  dem  atlantischen  Ozean  bis 
an  das  Nilthal."  It  is,  however,  not  necessary 
to  say  how  far  the  boundary  of  ancient  Raetia 
extended.  To  investigate  this  is  not  the  pur- 
of  the  present  article.  The  Ries  of  today  cer- 

4  Cf.    the   chapter   on   the   R(Kti,  Vindelici,  in  Zeus,  Die 
Deutschen  und  die  Nachbarstaentttte ,  MUnchen,  1837,  pp. 
229  ff.  and  L.  Steub,   Ueber  die    Urbetvthner  Raetiens  und 
ihren  Zusammenhang  mit  den  Etruskern,  MUnchen,  1843, 
pp.  2  and  20  ff. 

5  Cf.  Schmeller,  Bayr.  Wb.,  ii,  p.  149. 

6  Cf.  Schmeller,  ibid.,  p.  149. 


tainly  belonged  to  the  ancient  province  of 
Raetia,  but  the  fact  that  it  is  a  plain  and  covers 
such  a  small  territory  could  have  had  no  bear- 
ing on  the  meaning  of  the  name  Raetia,  es- 
pecially if  ancient  Raetia  contained  many 
mountains  and  plains.  There  is,  therefore,  no 
inconsistency  in  deriving  the  word  Ries  from 
rait. 

To  look,  as  Mayer  does,  for  a  German  ori- 
gin of  the  word  Ries  in  O.  H.  G.  hriot, 
M.H.G.  riet,  meaning  'reed,'  'marshy  ground,' 
is  more  than  useless.  Perhaps  the  Ries  was 
at  one  time  a  lake  or  a  swamp,  but  this  must 
have  been  many  centuries  before  the  O.H.G. 
hriot  originated.  Moreover  the  change  from 
riot,  riet  to  Ries  would  be  a  philological 
enigma  ;7  if  a  change  from  /  to  s  took  place,  it 
had  to  take  place  in  the  O.H.G.  period. 

The  '  Riesgau  '  was  governed  by  courts  in 
the  name  of  the  king.  The  noblemen  who 
lived  within  the  Ries  were  subject  to  the 
same  government.  From  this  the  old  '  Gau  ' 
developed  gradually  the  hereditary  counties. 
This  estate  of  the  Ries  was  divided  up  among 
the  courts  of  Oettingen — who  resided  in  Oet- 
tingen, Wallerstein,  and  Harburg — the  Reich- 
staedte  Nordlingen  and  Bopfingen,  the 
Deutsche  Orden,  the  Augsburger  Hochstift, 
several  rich  cloisters,  and  some  famous  noble 
families,  among  which  the  family  of  Huern- 
heim  ranks  first. 

By  the  establishment  of  the  Rhenish  Con- 
federation on  July  12,  1806,  the  county  of  Oet- 
tingen (Oettingen-Spielberg  and  Oettingen- 
Wallerstein)  was  made  a  Fuerstentum  ('prin- 
cipality ')  and  came  under  the  supremacy  of 
the  crown  of  Bavaria.  As  already  mentioned 
only  a  small  part  of  the  Northern  and  Western 
Ries  belongs  to  Wiirttemberg.8 

The  population  numbers  about  30,000,  Pro- 
testants, Catholics  and  a  few  hundred  Jews. 
The  number  of  villages,  small  cities  and 
towns  is  said  to  be  about  ninety, 9  not  includ- 
ing the  innumerable  Hofe  and  Weiler  ('  ham- 
lets ').  The  most  of  the  Rieser,  as  the  in- 
habitants of  this  district  are  called,  are  peas- 
ants, showing  a  remarkable  conservatism  in 
every  respect  and  not  least  in  their  dialect. 

7  Cf.  Schade,  Althochdeutsches  Wjrterbuch,  p.  424. 

8  Cf.   Monninger,  Das  Riet,  p.  5,  and  Separatabdruck  aus 
T.  Rufs,  Bayrische  Hehnatskunde  i,  p.  10. 

9  Cf.  G.  lakob,  pp.  4  ff. 


'43 


287 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


288 


II.    LITERATURE  OF   THE  DIALECT  OF  THE 
RIES. 

The  publications  in  the  dialect  of  the  Ries 
are  rather  numerous  considering  the  size  of 
the  district.  The  following  is  a  list  of  them  : 

1.  Schmeller's  Die  Mundarten  Bayerns  (Miin- 
chen,  1821 ;  pp.  544,  ff.)  contains  the  fol- 
lowing pieces : 

a.  Brief   eines    Rieser    Bauern  an  seinen 
Schwager. 

b.  Das  zerstorte  Luftschloss. 

c.  Der  Kranke  und  der  Arzt. 

d.  Stiickle  oder  Schelmeliedle. 

e.  Kinderliedchen. 

"  Of  (c)  there  is  also  a  reprint  in  Schmel- 
ler's Bayr.  Wb.,  p.  624,  with  a  few  notes. 

2.  Ende  gut,   alles  gut,  by  Melchior  Meyr, 
the  only  one  of  his  Erzahlungen  aus  dem 
Ries  (Leipzig,  Brockhaus  :    1856.    4th  edi- 
tion, 1894)  written  in  the  dialect.     Melchior 
Meyr    was  born  June  28,  1810,  in  the  vil- 
lage of  Ehringen  near  Nordlingen,  stud- 
ied  philosophy  at   Munich    and    Heidel- 
berg, went  to  Berlin  1840,  where  he  lived 
as  a  journalist  until  1852.     He  cultivated  a 
close    acquaintanceship    with     Friedrich 
Riickert.     In  1852   he   went   to   Munich, 
where  he   died   April  22,   1871.1°    A  few 
years  after  his  death  the  city  of  Nordlin- 
gen erected  to  his  memory  a  monument 
before  the  Reinlinger  Thor. 

3.  Gedichte  in  Rieser  Mundart  by  Johannes 
Kahn.      With    a    criticism    by    Melchior 
Meyr.    3d  ed.  Nordlingen,  1894. 

4.  Riaser  Gwtichs.    Ein  Abschiedsgruss  an 
das  Ries  by  Michael  Karl   Wild.     Nord- 
lingen, 1880. 

5.  Allerloi  ;  Gedichte  in  Rieser  Mundart  by 
G.  Jakob.     Nordlingen,    1893.    G.  Jakob 
is  still  living  in  Nordlingen,  and  publishes 
from  time  to  time  poems  in  this  dialect. 

By  comparing  these  publications  with  one 
another  it  is  difficult  for  a  non-Rieser  to  gain  a 
correct  idea  of  the  dialect,  as  the  spelling 
adopted  is,  of  course,  not  always  accurately 

10  Cf.  von  Bothmer  und  Moriz  Carriere,  Leipzig,  1874. 
Aus  seinem  Ntchlasse  und  aus  der  Erinnerung  hentusfe- 
ftben . 


phonetic.     All  the    authors    come    from    the 
vicinity  of  the  city  of  Nordlingen. 

F.  G.  G.  SCHMIDT. 
Johns  Hopkins  University. 


NO  TE   TO  RA  CfNE'S  ' '  I  PHI  GENIE, ' ' 
Act  I,  sc.  i,  v.  91. 

THERE  is  a  passage  in  Racine's  "  Iphige'nie  " 
that  commentators  generally  have  failed  to  ex- 
plain except  as  a  slip  on  the  part  of  the  author. 
The  entire  passage  reads: — 

Je  me  rendis,  Areas ;  et  vaincu  par  Ulysse, 
De  ma  fille,  en  pleurant,  j'ordonnai  le  supplice. 
Mais  des  bras  d'un  mere  il  fallait  1'arrachcr. 
Quel  funeste  artifice  il  me  fallut  chercher. 
D'Achille,  qui  1'aimait,  j'empruntai  le  langage. 
J'ecrivis  en  Argos,  pour  hater  ce  voyage, 
Que  ce  guerrier,  presse1  de  partir  avec  noun, 
Voulait  revoir  ma  fille,  et  partir  son  I'POUX. 

The  difficulty  arises  in  the  interpretation  of 
the  third  line  of  this  passage  : 
Mais  des  bras  d'une  mtreil fallait  Varracher. 
This  verse  passes  unnoticed  in  Mesnard's 
edition  of  Racine's  works  in  the  series  of 
"  Les  Grands  Ecrivains  de  la  France."  Lan- 
son,  however,  in  his  separate  edition  of  the 
play,  says : 

Racine  suit  ici  Euripide,  qui  montre  Aga- 
memnon surpris  de  I'arrive'e  de  Clytemnestre. 
Mais,  par  une  leglre  inadvertance,  il  oubliera 
que  Agamemnon  n'attend  que  sa  fille,  et  il 
lui  fera  dire  au  vers  129  : 

Prends  cette  lettre,  cours  au-devant  de  la  reine. 

Lanson  would  seem  himself  to  be  at  fault  in 
supposing  that  Agamemnon  awaits  his  daugh- 
ter only,  for  in  verse  149  the  mother  is  men- 
tioned again : 

Pour  renvoyer  la  fille  et  la  mere  offense'*.^ 

These  allusions  to  the  mother's  coming,  oc- 
curring within  twenty  lines  of  each  other, 
show  conclusively,  on  the  contrary,  that  Ra- 
cine does  not  follow  Euripides  in  this  matter, 
but  expects  Iphigenia  to  come  to  Aulis  duly 
accompanied  by  Clytemnestra.  Yet  Lanson 
is  absolutely  right  when  he  goes  on  to  remark: 

Et  1'artifice  qu'il  a  pr6te"  a  Agamemnon 
n'e"tait  que  pour  faire  venir  Iphige'nie  au  camp, 
et  non  pour  la  se'parer  de  sa  mere. 

Bernardin,  also,  calls  attention  to  the  verse 
as  containing  a  "strange  inadvertence"  al- 


144 


289 


May,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


290 


though  he  does  not  state  in  what  respect.  He 
simply  says : 

Etrange  inadvertance :  Agamemnon  dira 
plus  loin  qu'il  attend  Clytemnestre  en  me'me 
temps  qu'lphige"nie. 

Caste*,  on  the  other  hand,  draws  a  distinct 
parallel : 

Dans  Euripide,  Agamemnon  (vers  99-100) 
e"crit  a  Clytemnestre  d'envoyer  au  plus  t6t 
Iphige'nie  pour  la  donner  en  mariage  a  Achille. 
Agamemnon  suppose  qu'Iphige'nie  viendra 
seule.  Aussi  est-il  tr£s  e'tonne'  de  voir  arriver 
Clytemnestre,  sans  e"tre  mande'e  (v.  456-457.) — 
Dans  Racine,  rien  n'indique  qu'Agamemnon 
attende  Iphige'nie  sans  sa  m6re,  puisqu'au  vers 
129,  il  dit  a  Areas : 

Prends  cette  lettre,  cours  au-devant  de  la  reine. 

Racine,  au  vers  91,  a  done  commis  une  singu- 
Iftre  inadvertance,  qu'on  ne  peut  comprendre 
qu'en  supposant  qu'il  a,  tout  en  e*crivant  cette 
sc£ne,  modiffe*  son  plan  primitif. 

GeoflTroy  had  already  advanced  the  same 
opinion : — 

Ce  vers  est  une  inadvertance  de  Racine ; 
partout  ailleurs  il  suppose  que  1'intention 
d'Agamemnon  e"tait  que  Clytemnestre  accom- 
pagnfit  sa  fille  en  Aulide.  Dans  la  me"me 
sc£ne  on  lit : 

v.  129  Cours  au-devant  de  la  reine. 

DCS  que  tu  la  verras  defends-lui  d'avancer. 
v.  149  Pour  renvoyer  la  fille  et  la  mere  offensee. 

Chez  Euripide,  Agamemnon  ne  mande  point 
Clytemnestre,  mais  lui  ordonne  seulement 
d'envoyer  sa  fille  en  Aulide. 

All  agree,  therefore,  in  accusing  Racine  of 
an  inadvertance, — Lanson  through  a  miscon- 
ception of  his  own,  Bernardin  without  at- 
tempting to  enter  into  any  explanation,  and 
the  rest  because  they  interpret  the  verse 
to  mean:  "I  had  to  separate  mother  and 
daughter  in  the  land  of  Argos  and  induce  the 
latter  to  come  here  alone." 

In  point  of  Tact,  the  verse  in  question, 

Mais  des  bras  d'une  mi  re  il  fallait  1'arracher, 

bears  no  reference  whatsoever  to  Iphigenia's 
journey  from  Argos  to  Aulis.  It  is  intimately 
connected  in  thought  with  the  verse  next 
preceding,  and  expresses  what  to  Agamem- 
non's mind  will  be  the  most  difficult  circum- 
stance attending  the  sacrifice.  In  fact,  in  his 
mental  attitude  toward  this  difficulty,  he 
prefers  to  look  upon  it  as  a  thing  of  the  past, 
when  at  the  fatal  moment  he  had  to  wrest 


Iphigenia  from  her  mother's  embrace. 

It  is  Clytemnestra  whom  Agamemnon  most 
fears,  and  this  fear  never  leaves  him,  for  he 
says: 

v.  147    D'une  mere  en  fureur  epargne-moi  les  cris. 

v.  394     Laisspz-moi  de  1'autel  ^carter  une  mire. 

v.  793    M'en  croirez-vous?     Laissez,  de  vos  femmessuivie, 

A  cet  hymen,  sans  vous,  marcher  Iphige'nie. 
v.  809    Madame,  au  nom  des  dieux  auteurs  de  notre  race, 

Daignez  4  mon  amour  accorder  cette  grSce. 

J'ai  mes  raisons. 
v.  817    Vous  avez  entendu  ce  que  je  vous  demande, 

Madame,  je  le  veux,  et  je  vous  le  commande. 

Obefissez. 

Clytemnestra  on  her  side  justifies  Aga- 
memnon's fears,  and  in  fact  she  repeats  his 
very  words  when  she  exclaims  toward  the  end 
of  her  long  tirade  in  the  famous  fourth  scene 
of  act  iv : 

v.  1312     Des  mes  bras  tout  sanglants  il faudra  Parracher. 
Aussi  barbare  e'poux  qu'impitoyable  pere, 
Venez,  si  vous  1'osez,  1'arracher  a  sa  mere. 

And  immediately  afterwards  Agamemnon 
soliloquizes  : — 

v.  1317    A  de  moindres  fureurs  je  n'ai  pas  dQ  m'attendre, 
Voila,  voill  les  cris  que  je  craignais  d'entendre. 

The  artifice,  as  Lanson  correctly  states,  was 
merely  to  bring  Iphigenia  to  the  camp,  and 
nothing  is  said  about  physical  separation  from 
her  mother.  Racine  expects  mother  and 
daughter  to  come  together  to  Aulis,  and  in 
breaking  with  Euripides  in  this  particular  he 
takes  naturally  into  account — and  his  critics 
should  have  done  the  same — that  there  would 
have  been  a  manifest  impropriety  in  convey- 
ing to  a  French  audience  the  impression,  even 
momentary,  that  Iphigenia  was  to  travel  away 
from  home  unattended  by  her  mother. 

BENJAMIN  DURYEA  WOODWARD. 
Columbia  University. 


ADDITIONAL  NOTE  ON  THE  ORDER 
OF  THE  Canterbury  Tales. 

SOME  objections  have  been  offered  to  the  use 
I  have  made  in  a  former  article1  of  several 
lines  in  the  Shipman's  Prologue.  The  Ship- 
man  says  that  he  will  tell  a  merry  tale, 

i  Arrangement  of  tht  Canterbury  Tales  ;  MOD.  LANG. 
NOTES,  May,  1895. 


291 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


292 


But  it  shal  nat  ben  of  philosophye, 

Ne  phislyas,  ne  termes  queinte  of  lawe  ; 

Ther  is  but  litel  Latin  in  my  mawe. 

B  1188-90. 

"  Now  '  phislyas  '»  [—physician  or  physic]  and 
'termes  queinte  of  lawe,'  "  I  said,  "seem  to 
point  directly  at  the  Doctor  and  the  Man  of 
Law,  and  '  of  philosophy '  very  fitly  charac- 
terizes the  Pardoner's  Tale." 

Mr.  Furnivall  says  he  thinks  it  is  the  duty  of 
all  students  of  Chaucer  to  accept  this  sugges- 
tion, since  the  one  defect  in  the  grouping  of 
the  Canterbury  Tales  is  thus  remedied ;  but 
he  continues  :3 — 

"  Were  it  not  for  this  sense  of  duty  I  should 
take  as  an  instance  of  American  humour  Mr. 
Shipley's  calling  the  Pardoner's  Tale  of  the 
Three  Rioters  one  of  '  philosophy  ; '  I  should 
want  '  phislyas '  to  mean  medical  remedies ; 
and  I  should  point  out  that  neither  the  Doctor 
nor  the  Man-of-Law  uses  any  terms  of  physic 
or  law. 

If  there  is  any  Tale  which  may  be  fairly 
called  one  of  philosophy,  it  is  the  Tale  of 
Melibe;  and  as  there  are  in  it  physicians, 
surgeons,  advocates,  and  Latin  words — 'causes 
whiche  that  clerkes  clepen  Oriens  and  Ef- 
ficiens  and  Causa  longinqua  and  Causa  pro- 
pinqua'  besides  englishings  from  Ovid,  Cicero, 
Petrus  Alphonsus,  etc.,  while  the  whole  tale 
is  from  the  French  version  of  the  Liber  Con- 
solationis  et  Consilii  of  Albertanus  Brixiensis, 
I  think  one  may  fairly  hold  that,  if  the  Ship- 
man  alludes  to  any  tale,  he  does  so  to 
Chaucer's  Tale  of  Melibe.  It  would  be  just 
like  Chaucer's  fun  to  make  the  Shipman  chaff 
him — who  was  to  tell  the  next  tale  but  one." 

Now  every  objection  Mr.  Furnivall  makes 
to  my  use  of  the  Shipman's  words  would  hold 
good  here  also  (not  considering  just  now  the 
question  of  the  tale  being  one  'of  philosophy.') 
Melibe  truly  contains  physicians,  surgeons, 
and  advocates,  but  they  speak  only  a  few 
lines,  giving  advice  to  Melibe,  and  use  no 
terms  of  physic  or  law ;  the  Latin  words 
quoted  are  all  that  the  tale  contains.  'Phislyas' 
and  '  termes  queinte  of  lawe '  I  took  to  refer 
more  to  the  speaker  than  to  his  story,  but  still 
further  justification  for  my  interpretation  of 
the  lines  may  be  found.  The  words  of  the 
Host  to  the  Physician  (C  301-317)  contain 
many  medical  terms — "  thyne  urinals  and  thy 

2  Mr.  J.  H.  Hessels  assures  me  that  he  has  scarcely  any 
doubt  but  that  I  am  perfectly  right  in  m/  interpretation  of 
'phislyas.' 

3  In  The  Academy  for  Oct.  12,  1895,  p.  197. 


lordanes,  thyn  Ypocras,  and  eek  thy  Galianes" 
— and  the  Man  of  Law's  Tale  has  the  follow- 
ing lines : — 

And  in  encrees  of  Cristes  lawe  dere, 
8237 

The  holy  lawes  of  our  Alkaron, 
6332 
Than  Makometes  lawe  out  of  myn  herte, 


B336 


and 


What  shulde  us  tyden  of  this  newe  lawe. 
B337 

Moreover  the  first  part  of  the  Tale  of  Con- 
stance turns  on  the  difference  between  Chris- 
tian and  Mohammedan  law  (B  218-224) ;  this 
difference  is  a  bar  to  the  marriage  of  Constance 
and  the  Sultan  and  upon  this  the  catastrophe 
depends. 

'  Of  philosophy  '  may,  it  is  true,  be  fitly  ap- 
plied to  Melibe,  but  I  still  think  it  also  '  fitly 
characterizes '  the  Pardoner's  Tale.  The 
Century  Dictionary  gives  four  meanings  of 
'  philosophy  '  in  Middle  English  : — moral  phil- 
osophy, natural  philosophy,  any  special  sci- 
ence (as  alchemy),  theology ;  with  the  first  of 
these  meanings  I  would  connect  our  reference. 

The  Pardoner's  Tale  (his  whole  discourse, 
not  his  story  merely)  is  nothing  but  a  sermon 
against  drunkenness  and  gluttony  (C  463-588), 
gambling  (C  589-628),  and  swearing  (C  629- 
659),  followed  by  a  story  to  illustrate  his 
text — the  story  of  the  three  rioters  guilty 
of  the  triple  count  of  sin,  who  are  led  to 
murder  each  other  through  their  covetous- 
ness.  No  stretching  of  conscience  is  needed 
to  call  this  ethical ;  the  Shipman  was  right  in 
calling  it  'of  philosophye,'*  meaning  moral 
philosophy ;  it  is  the  '  moral  tale  '  promised 
by  the  Pardoner  himself  (C  460)  in  accordance 

4  Chaucer's  use  of  the  word  philosophy  (or  philosopher)  is 
worthy  of  note;  I  find  the  word  occurring  elsewhere  in  the 
Canterbury  Tales  twenty-four  times  (not  including  B  2252, 
where  it  is  interpolated).  In  eleven  of  these  examples  the 
meaning  is  clearly  alchemy  (or  alchemist);  they  are  all  in 
the  Canon's  Yeoman's  Tale  :-G  862, 1058, 1122, 1139, 1373, 
1394,  1427,  1434,  1444,  1464,  1473.  Twice  the  meaning  seems 
to  be  astrology  (astrologer) : — B  310  and  E  34  (see  note  by 
Skeat,  Oxford  Chaucer,  v,  p.  342).  From  these  meanings 
to  the  mare  general  one,  '  magician,'  is  only  a  step  ;  four  oc- 
currences, all  in  the  Franklin's  Tale  : — F  1561, 1572, 1585, 
1607.  In  the  seven  remaining  examples  philosophy  means 
natural  science  or  moral  science  and  philosopher  is  used 
correspondingly  : — A  295,  267  (a  play  on  two  meanings),  645  ; 
825;  G  113;  1669,  805. 


146 


293 


May,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


294 


with  the  demand  of  the  other  pilgrims, — "Tel 
us  som  moral  thing,  that  we  may  lere  som 
wit"  (C  325). 

The  most  serious  objection  to  applying  the 
words  of  the  Shipman  to  Melibe  is  that  the 
Shipman  would  then  be  made  to  refer  to  what 
had  not  taken  place,  and  we  can  hardly  sup- 
pose that  he  would  chaff  Chaucer  about  his 
story  before  he  had  told  it.  Closer  study  has 
strengthened  my  former  opinion,  that  the 
proper  place  for  the  Doctor-Pardoner  group  is 
before  the  Man  of  Law's  Tale.  I  saids  that 
this  position  was  airily  half-proposed  by  Koch, 
but  I  inadvertently  omitted  to  do  Mr.  F.  G. 
Fleay  the  justice  of  stating  that  it  was  first 
suggested  by  him6  (it  is  a  bare  suggestion)  in 
the  Folk-Lore  Record,  1879,  vo'-  n>  P-  J62, 
almost  hidden  under  a  mass  of  '  Folk-Lore 
from  Chaucer.' 

GEORGE  SHIPLEY. 
Johns  Hopkins  University. 


CONTRIBUTIONS  TO  A  BIBLIO- 
GRAPHY OF  RACINE. 
SPECIAL  students  of  Racine  are  aware  of  the 
inadequacy  of  bibliographical  aid  for  the 
study  of  this  author.  For  Moliere  there  ex- 
ists the  bibliography  of  M.  Lacroix,  for  Cor- 
neille  that  of  M.  Picot.  For  Racine  the  latest 
and  most  extensive  collection  of  material  is 
contained  in  the  Notice  bibliographique  of  M. 
Mesnard.1  It  is  true  that  some  years  ago  it 
was  announced  that  M.  Picot,  the  author  of 
the  Bibliographic  corntlienne,  intended  to 
prepare  a  similar  work  for  Racine  ;  but  in  an- 
swer to  an  inquiry,  he  wrote  that  he  had  en- 
tirely abandoned  this  idea.  It  is  very  prob- 
ble,  therefore,  that  for  many  years  to  come  the 
bibliography  of  M.  Mesnard  will  remain  the 
chief  authority  for  reference  on  this  subject. 

Of  the  sixty-seven  pages  of  this  bibliography 
the  first  fifty-eight  are  devoted  to  Racine's 
own  works,  while  only  the  last  nine  pages, 
containing  ninety-nine  numbers,  enumerate 
works  on  Racine.  A  few  years  ago  I  had 
special  occasion  to  use  this  latter  part  of  the 
bibliography,  extending  to  the  year  1887,  and  I 

5  See  my  former  article,  Note  34. 

6  Mr.   Fleay  calls  my  attention  to  this   in  a  letter  to  The 
Academy  for  Oct.  26,  1895,  p.  343. 

i  Vol.  vii,  pp.  377-444  (Grands  Ecrivains  dt  la  France). 


soon  became  aware  of  its  many  omissions,  es- 
pecially, but  by  no  means  exclusively,  with 
reference  to  German  contributions  to  Racine 
literature.  Lists  of  additions  accumulated 
rapidly,  and  I  intended  to  complete  and  revise 
them  at  some  library  especially  equipped  for 
such  work.  Just  then,  however,  I  had  to  dis- 
continue this  line  of  study.  So  I  abandoned 
my  plan,  but  tried  to  interest  somebody  else 
in  the  subject.  Not  successful  in  this  effort  I 
have  decided  to  publish  the  material  in  hand, 
believing  that,  in  spite  of  necessary  shortcom- 
ings, these  additions  to  M.  Mesnard 's  biblio- 
graphy may  be  of  some  help  to  special  stu- 
dents of  Racine. 

With  very  few  exceptions,  only  works  ex- 
pressly referring  to  Racine  have  been  enumer- 
ated. Of  articles  in  journals  and  magazines 
only  the  more  important  have  been  quoted. 
For  works  on  both  Racine  and  Corneille,  M. 
Mesnard  refers  to  the  edition  of  Corneille  by 
Marty-Laveaux  ;  even  more  complete  is  the 
list  in  Picot.2  Also  for  works  of  a  general 
character  (encyclopaedias,  biographical  dic- 
tionaries, histories  of  literature,  etc.)  it  will 
occasionally  be  helpful  to  refer  to  M.  Picot's 
work. 3 

In  many  instances  I  was  unable  to  gain  ac- 
cess to  the  works  mentioned.  The  fact  that 
in  such  cases  the  titles  have  been  quoted  at 
second-hand,  may  account  for  the  occasional 
lack  of  uniformity  in  the  data  given.  The  ar- 
rangement of  titles  is  alphabetic,  according  to 
the  names  of  authors  (if  they  are  known).  I 
also  consider  it  necessary  to  state  that  the 
work  on  this  article  was  practically  concluded 
in  the  year  1893,  so  that  for  the  last  few  years 
there  cannot  be  claimed  for  it  even  that  ap- 
proximate completeness  which  was  aimed  at 
for  the  time  previous  to  that  date. 

In  the  collection  of  material  I  have  received 
valuable  help  from  Dr.  Pietsch  of  the  New- 
berry  Library  at  Chicago,  and  I  am  glad  to 
avail  myself  of  this  opportunity  for  thanking 
him  again  for  his  ever-ready  assistance. 

i.  ANGELL,  J.  B.,  Life  and  works  of  J.  Ra- 
cine. Bibliotheca  Sacra  (1857),  xiv, 
597-622. 

2  Bibliofraphit  cornelienne,  pp.  462  f. 

3  Cf.  also  R.  Kerviler,  Essai  d'une  bibliographie  raistn- 
ntc  de  I'Acad^mit  Franqaise,  Paris,  1877. 


147 


295 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


296 


2.  ARETZ,  P.,  Observationes  grammaticae 

et  lexicologicae  de  lingua  Corneliana 
etRaciniana.  (Diss.)  Bonn,  1871.  8vo, 
pp.  46. 

3.  ANGE  DE   LASSUS,   L.,  Racine  a  Port- 

Royal,  a-propos  en  un  acte,  en  vers. 
Paris,  1885.  8vo,  pp.  35. 

4.  BARRON,  La  maison  d'un  poete  au  176 

siecle.  Jean  Racine  chez  lui.  .Rev. 
pol.  et  Hit.  (1893),  Hi,  819  f, 

5.  BATTEUX,  CH.,  Observations  sur  1'Hip- 

polyte  d'Euripide  et  la  Phedre  de  Ra- 
cine. Recueil  de  V Acad.  des  Inscript. 
(1786),  xlii,  452-473- 

6.  BERGMANN,  AD.,  La  Phedre  de  Racine 

compared  a  celle  d'Euripide.  (Progr. 
der  Realschule  zu  Miinster.)  1874. 

7.  BIE.RRE,   ABBE,  Iphige"nie   a  Aulis,  par 

Euripide.  Texte  grec,  pre'ce'de'  d'un 
parallele  avec  la  trag£die  de  Racine. 
3e  6d.  Paris,  1889  ;  pp.  143. 

8.  BLAZE  DE  BURY,  Racine,  and  the  French 

Classical  Drama.  London,  1845.  i2tno. 
(Knight's  Weekly  Volumes.) 

9.  BONIEUX,  B.,  Critique  des  tragedies  de 

Corneille  et  de  Racine,  par  Voltaire. 
(These  pour  le  doctoral  es-lettres.) 
Paris,  1866.  8vo,  pp.  320. 

10.  BRENNECKE,    AD.,    Die    franzosischen 

Classiker  des  17.  Jahrh.  in  ihrer  Nach- 
ahmung  der  Alten  und  Originalitat. 
Archiv fur  Lift.  Gesch.  (1874),  iii,  225- 
248;  330-366. 

11.  BRUNETIERE,  F.,4  La  Trage'die  de  Ra- 

cine a  propos  d'un  livre  recent.  Re- 
vue des  deux  mondes,  March  i,  1884, 
pp.  213-225.  (On  Deschanel's  Le  ro- 
mantisme  des  classiques.) 

12.     ,   Racine  et  Andromaque.    L1  In- 
struction publique,  March  9,  1889. 

13.  CASTIL-BLAZE,  Moliere  musicien.  Notes 

sur  les  ceuvres  de  cet  illustre  maltre  et 
sur  les  drames  de  Corneille,  Racine, 

4  Essays  incorporated  in  miscellaneous  volumes  of  literary 
criticism,  have  generally  not  been  mentioned,  when  the  vol- 
umes are  well  known.  Articles  on  Racine  and  his  work  are 
contained,  for  example,  in  ALBERT,  Varietes  morales  et  lit- 
teraires  ;  BRUNETIERE,  Etudes  critiques  sur  Vhistoire  de  la 
litterature  franfaise  and  Les  rf  agues  du  theatre  fran^ais  ; 
FAGUBT,  Les  grands  mattres  du  I^e  siiclt ;  LEMAITRE,  Im- 
pressions dt  theatre,  etc. 


Quinault,  Regnard,  etc.,  ou  se  melent 
des  considerations  sur  1'harmonie  de 
la  langue  francaise.  2  vols.  Paris, 
1852.  8vo,  pp.  512  and  544. 

14.  CHALMETON,  L.  A.,  Jean  Racine:  anni- 

versaire  de  sa  naissance.  Clermont- 
Ferrand,  1879.  i2tno,  pp.  ii. 

15.  CHARAUX,  A.,  Racine  d'apres  des  docu- 

ments nouveaux.  Revue  du  monde 
catholique,  1881,  36  s6rie,  x,  736-756. 

16.     ,  Racine.     La  critique    ide"ale    et 

catholique.  2  vols.  Paris,  1881.    12010, 
pp.  xi,  370  and  276. 

17.  CLAMADIEU,  J.  A.,  Arnauld  et  la  trage"- 

die  de  Phedre.  L Instruction  publi- 
que. (1885),  pp.  515  f. 

18.  DANNEHL,  G.,  Sur  quelques  caracteres 

dans  les  tragedies  de  Racine,  em- 
prunte"s  de  1'antiquite".  Progr.  San- 
gerhausen,  1877. 

19.  DAVROUX,  A.,  Douze  ce'le'brite's  du  de"- 

partment  de  1'Aisne.  Saint-Quentin, 
1885.  In-iSje's.  pp.  283. 

20.  DESBARRAUX-BERNARD,    Le    Pline   de 

Racine.    Bulletin  du  Bibliophile,  1856, 

PP-  937-941. 

21.  DESCHANEL,  E.,  Etudes  nouvelles  sur 

Racine.  BeY6nice.  Les  dessous  de 
la  piece.  Rev.  pol.  et  lift.  1884,  pp. 
105-115. 

22.  DUBOIS,  L.,  L'Iphige'nie  d'Euripide   et 

celle  de  Racine.    (Progr.)  Riga,  1869. 

23.  DUNING,   A.,   Ueber    Racines    auf  an- 

tiken  StoFen  ruhenden  Tragodien 
und  deren  Hauptcharaktere.  (Progr. 
d.  Gymn.  zu  Quedlinburg.)  1880,  pp. 

17- 

24.  DURAND-MORIMBAU,  H.,  La  morale  dans 

les  tragedies  profanes  de  Racine.  Pa- 
ris, 1877.  8vo,  pp.48. 

25.  DUVEAU,    A.,  Une    petite    e"pave    d'un 

grand  poete.  Le  Livre  (1883),  iv,  227- 
232.  (Cf.  ibid.,  pp.  269  and  303.) 

26.  FOURNEL,  V.,  Le  Theatre  de  Racine  et 

les  variations  du  gout.  Lt  Corre- 
spondant  (1880),  nouv.  s^r.,  vol.  Ixxxii, 
pp.  1141  f. 

27.  FOURNEL,  V.,  Contemporains  et  succes- 

seurs  de  Racine.  Revue  d'hist.  litt. 
de  la  France,  \,  3. 

28.  FRANCE,    A.,    Racine   et    Nicolle.    La 


148 


297 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


298 


Querelledes  imaginaires, notice.  Paris, 
1875.  8vo,  pp.8.  (Extr.  de  1'Amateur 
d'autogr.) 

29.  FUCHS,   S.,   Ueber  das   Freundschafts- 

verhaltniss  zwischen  Boileau  und  Ra- 
cine. (Progr.  des  Realgymn.  zu  Ba- 
den in  Oesterreich.)  1879.  8vo,  pp. 
29. 

30.  GANDERAX,  L.,  Mithridate.    Revue  des 

deux  mondes,  Aug.  i,  1882  ;  pp.  684- 
696. 

31.  GROUCHY,  LE  VICOMTE  DE,  Documents 

ine"dits  relatifs  a  Jean  Racine  et  a  sa 
famille..  Bulletin  du  Bibliophile  1892, 
297-312;  393;  394-424;  489-515-  1893, 
53-57- 

32.  HARANG,  J.,  Parall£le  de  Racine  et  de 

V.  Hugo  comme  poetes  dramatiques. 
(Progr.  d.  Realschule  zu  Halle)  1864. 
4to,  pp.  35.  (The  same  in  German  as 
doctor-dissertation,  Jena,  1875.) 

33.  HERVEY,  C.,  Jean  Racine  at    St.   Cyr. 

Belgravia  (1878),  xxxv,  474  f. 
330.  HOHLFELD,  A.  R.,  Studies  in  French 
versification.  I.  The  Alexandrine 
verse  in  Racine's  Athalie.  II.  A  com- 
parison of  the  Alexandrine  verse  in 
Athalie  with  that  in  Hernani.  MOD. 
LANG.  NOTES  (1893),  viii,  10-17;  257- 
272. 

34.  HOUBEN,  Euripidis  Iphigenia  in  Aulide 

tragoedia  cum  Racinii  comparata. 
(Progr.  d.  Gymn.  zu  Trier.)  1850. 

35.  HOUBEN,  H.,  Der  Chor  in  den  Tragoe- 

dien  des  Racine.  (Progr.  d.  Kgl. 
Gymn.  zu  Diisseldorf.)  1894.  8vo,  pp. 
28. 

36.  HUBERT, B.,  Die  PlaideursRacines.  Eine 

litterarhistorische  Studie.  (  Progr. ) 
Leipzig,  1893.  8vo,  pp.  24. 

37.  HUMBERT,  Boileau  und  Racine  die  gross- 

ten  Verachter  Senecas  und  die  gross- 
ten  Bewunderer  des  Sophocles  und 
der  Griechen.  Franco- Gallia  (1892), 
ix. 

38.  IPHIGENIA  IN  AULIS.  Blackw ood's Maga- 

zine (1862),  xciv,  94-110. 

39.  JANET,    P.,    La    psychologic    dans    les 

tragedies  de  Racine.  Revue  des  deux 
mondes,  Sept.  15,  1875,  pp.  263-295. 

40.  JEAN  RACINE.    Dennie's  Portfolio  (1817), 


xviii,  95,  181,  273. 

41.  VON  KNAPP,  Etude  comparative  sur  la 

composition  et  le  deVeloppement  des 
caracteres  dans  PAndromaque  d'Eu- 
ripide  et  de  Racine.  Wetzlar,  1878. 
8vo,  pp.  39. 

42.  KRICK,   F.  J.,  J.   Racine's    Verhaltniss 

zu  Euripides.  (Progr.)  Aachen,  1884. 
4to,  pp.  55. 

43.  -  ,   Racine's  Andromaque  im  Ver- 

haltniss zur'AvSpo^dxr  des  Euripides. 


(Progr.)  Aachen,  1890.    4to,  pp.  46. 

44.  KRUG,  A.,  Etude  sur  la  Ph£dre  de  Ra- 

cine et  1'Hippolyte  de  Se*n6que.  (Progr. 
des  Gymn.  in  Buchsweiler.)  Colmar, 
1883.  410,  pp.  31. 

45.  KUHNE,  O.,  Ueber  den  Sprachgebrauch 

Racines  in  seinen  dramatischen  Dich- 
tungen.  (Diss.)  Leipzig,  1887.  8vo, 
pp.  46. 

46.  KuNKE,G.,Comparaison  entre  la  Ph£dre 

de  Racine  et  1'Hippolyte  d'Euripide. 
(Progr.)  Schneidemuhl,  1874. 

47.  KUTSCHER,  J.,  Die  Heldengestalten  bei 

Racine.  (Progr.)  Teplitz,  Svo,  pp. 
64. 

48.  LAROCQUE,  J.,   Les    Poetes    devant   le 

pouvoir.  Jean  Racine,  poete  politi- 
que.  La  Nouvelle  Revue  (1883),  xxiv, 
366-408. 

49.  --  ,  La  jeunesse  de  Racine.     LaNou. 

velle  Revue  (1886),  xlii,  350-393. 

50.  LE   BIDOIS,   G.,   A  propos  de   Racine. 

L1  Instruction  pub  lique  (1887),  pp.  498  f. 

51.  LETTRE  DE  BOILEAU  au  sujet  d'un  vers 

de  Ph£dre.     Le  Livre,  viii,  320. 

52.  LEVALLOIS,J.,  Racine,  Mithridate.  Z,'  In- 

struction publique  (1885),  pp.  23  f,  38  f, 
58  f,  72  f. 

53.  LORIN,  F.,  Etudes  litte*raires  sur  Des- 

portes,  Racine,  Florian.  Tours,  1895. 
Svo,  pp.  177.  (Extr.  du  roe  vol.  des 
Me"moires  de  la  Socie"te  arche"ol.  de 
Rambouillet.) 

54.  MAASS,  DR.  M.,  Die  franzosische  Trago- 

die  und  ihre  deutschen  Kritiker. 
Herrig's  Archiv,  xix,  388-457. 

55.  --  ,  Racine's  Phedre  in  den  beiden 

Uebersetzungen  von  Schiller  und  Vie- 
hoff.  Herrig's  Archiv,  xxxiv,  299-327. 

56.  MAGER,  A.,  Andromaque  dans   la  lit- 


149 


299 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


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te"rature  francaise.  (Progr.)  Marburg, 
1890.  8vo,  pp.  20. 

57.  DE  MARSY,  Racine  a  Compiegne.  Com- 
piegne, 1878.  8vo,  pp.  8.  (Extr.  du 
Bull,  de  la.  Soc.  hist,  de  Compiegne, 

t- 4-) 

58     ,  Racine  a  Compi£gne  (1695);  note 

additionelle.  Compiegne,  1879.  4to, 
pp.  4.  (Extr.  du  Bull,  de  la  Soc.  hist, 
de  Compiegne,  t.  4.) 

59.  MAYER,  PH.,  Studien  zu  Homer,  Soph- 

okles,  Euripides,  Racine  und  Goethe, 
hrsg.  v.  Eug.  Frohwein.  Gera,  i874> 
8vo,  pp.  viii,  412. 

60.  MELVIL,  FR.,   Le  Systeme  dramatique 

de  Racine,  I.  Franco-Gallia(i%&$),\\, 
121-128. 

61.  MICHAUX,  A.,  La  ve'rite'  sur  la  disgrace 

de  Jean  Racine,  suivie  de  Caranda  et 
Sablonni£re.  Soissons.  8vo,  pp.  31. 
(Extr.du  Bull,  de  laSocie'te' arche'ol.  de 
Soissons,  1877.) 

62.  MOLENES,    G.     DE,     Ph^dre    et    Mile. 

Rachel.  Revue  des  deux  mondes, 
Febr.  i,  1843,  pp.  533-541- 

63.  MOLINERI,  G.  C.,  L'Andromaca  di  Eu- 

ripide,  1'Andromaca  di  G.  Racine*  e  il 
Carlo  vii  di  Aless.  Dumas.  Annali 
delR.  Institute  Teen,  di  Torino  (1883), 
xi. 

64.  MONCEAUX,    P.,    Racine.    Paris,    1892. 

8vo,  pp.  235. 

65.  MONTIFAUD,  M.  DE,  Racine  et  la  Voi- 

sin.     Paris,  1878.     I2mo,  pp.  89. 

66.  PETIT  DE  JULEVILLE,   Les  points    ob- 

scures de  la  vie  de  Racine :  Racine  a 
Port-Royal.  Racine  de  1655-1664.  Les 
prefaces  de  Racine.  L'amitie"  des 
quatre  grands  poetes  du  siecle  de 
Louis  XIV.  Les  lettres  et  e"pigrammes 
centre  Port-Royal.  Phedre  et  Port- 
Royal.  Racine  historiographe.  L1 In- 
struction publique,  1887,  pp.  607,  635, 
688,  718,  765,  783,  815. 

67.  PETRI,  U.,   Observations  sur    Athalie. 

(Progr.)    Rheydt,  1848. 

68.  PONS,  J.,  Les  Editions  illustre"es  de  Ra- 

cine. Avec  deux  portraits  a  1'eau- 
forte.  Paris,  1878.  8vo,  pp.  91. 

69.  POQUET,  L'ABBE,  La  Ferte"-Milon.    Sort 

chateau  fort,  explication  de  son  front- 


ispice.    Racine,  sa  statue,  etc.    Laon, 
1873.     8vo,  pp.  24. 

70.  POUGIN,  A.,  Racine  et  les  chceurs  d'A- 

thalie.     La  Nouvelle  Revue,  Nov.  i, 
1888,  pp.  201-210. 

71.  PROFFEN,  G.,  Racine  und  Rotrou.     Zs% 

f.  nfrz.  Spr.  u.  Lit.    (1885)  vii,  90  f. 

72.  RACINE,  with  a  glance  at  his  tragedies. 

Dublin    University  Magazine   (1869), 
Ixxiv,  225-241. 

73.     and    his    works.     Temple    Bar 

(1878),  liv,  367  f. 

Westminster   Review   ( 1884 ), 


74- 


75- 


cxxi,  42-63. 
.     Eminent  literary  and  scientific 


men  of  France,  i,  296-329.  (Lardner's 
Cabinet  Cyclopaedia,  London,  1838.) 

76.  RACINE'S  Iphige'nie  en  Aulide  und  Euri- 

pides' Iphigenie  in  Aulis,  ein  Bei- 
trag,  etc.  Herrig's  Archiv,  xix,  31- 
68. 

77.  RAMBERT,  E.,  Corneille,  Racine  et  Mo- 

li£re.  Deux  cours  sur  la  poe"sie  dra- 
matique fran^aise  au  176  siecle.  Lau- 
sanne, 1862.  8vo. 

78.  REICHART,  DR.,  Racine's  tragischer  Re- 

formversuch.     Herrig's  Archiv,  xlvi, 

i-33- 

79.  REICHEL,    F.,    Die    Beobachtung    der 

Regel  von  den  Einheiten  bei  Racine. 
(Progr.)  Lowenberg,  1893.  410,  pp. 

19- 

80.  REINIGER,  G.,  Abre'ge'  du  syst£med'ac- 

centuation  francaise  et  son  application 
dans  les  ceuvres  de  Racine.  (Progr. 
der  ii.  deutschen  Staats-Oberrealschule 
in  Prag.)  1886.  8vo,  pp.  29. 

81.  ROBERT,   P.,    La   Poe"tique  de   Racine. 

Etude  sur  le  systeme  dramatique  de 
Racine  et  la  constitution  de  la  trage"- 
die  franchise.  Paris,  1890.  8vo,  pp. 
ix,  362. 

82.  ROSSIERE,   E.,  Bibliographic.     CEuvres 

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83.  Roux,  Etude  sur  le  Mithridate  de  Ra- 

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84.  SAGLIO,  A.,  Les  inteYieurs  de  deux  hom- 

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150 


3oi 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


302 


Rev.  pol.  et  lift.  (1892),  Hi,  599  f.  (Cf. 
SAGLIO,  A.,  Maisons  d'hommes  ce"16- 
bres.  Paris,  1893.  i6mo,  pp.  331.) 

85.  SARRAZIN,  J.,  Corneille  und  Racine  im 

Wettstreit.     Herrig's  Archiv,   Ixviii, 

295-319. 

86.  SCHMIDT,  O.,  La  correspondance  entre 

Racine  et  Boileau,  conside"re*e  au  point 
de  vue  biographique.  (Progr.)  Duis- 
burg,  1873,  4to,  pp.  17. 

87.  SCHOENWAELDER,  Die  Iphigenien  von 

Euripides, Racine  and  Goethe.  (Progr.) 
Brieg,  1865. 

88.  SCHROEDER, Racine's  Athalia.  Herrig's 

Archiv,  xxviii,  245-259. 

89.  SCHURMEYER,  F.,  Vergleich  und  Meta- 

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Marburg,  1886.  8vo,  pp.  32. 

90.  SERRET,  E.,  Duel  litte"raire  sous  Louis 

XIV.  Le  Correspondent  (1872),  nouv. 
se"r.  1,  879,  f. 

91.  SOUCEK,  E.,  Observations  critiques  sur 

les  Plaideurs  de  Racine.  (Progr.  d. 
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92.  STANCE,   A.,   Britannicus,   trage"die   de 

Racine.     (Progr.)     1875. 

93.  STEIERT,  Vergleichung  der  Phadra  des 

Racine  mit  der  des  Euripides.  (Progr. 
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94.     ,   Vergleichung  der    Phadra   des 

Racine  mit  dem  Hippolytus  des  Euri- 
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95.  STREHLKE,  F.,  Ueber  Corneille  und  Ra- 

cine, als  Nachahmer  der  alten  Trago- 
die.  Danzig,  Stettin,  Elbing,  1856. 
4to,  pp.  36. 

96.  TENNYSON,    L.,   Phaedra    and    Phedre. 

Nineteenth  Century  (1880),  vii,  pp.  58  f. 

97.  THEISZ,  La  jeunesse  de  Racine.     Revue 

philologique  hongroise,  1889,  suppl.  i. 

98.  THIEM,   Analyse  et  critique    d'Esther, 

trage"die  de  Racine.  (Progr.  d.  Real- 
gymn. zu  Fraustadt.)  1883. 

99.  TILLET,   Reprise  de   Be're'nice.     Revue 

pol.  et  litt.,  xxxi,  2. 

100.  TROLLOPE,  H.  M.,  Corneille  and  Racine. 

London,  1881.  8vo,  pp.  218.  (Foreign 
Classics  for  English  Readers.) 

101.  TUCHERT,   A.,    Racine  und    Heliodor. 

(Diss.)    Leipzig,    1890.    8vo,    pp.    51. 


(Also  as  Progr.  d.  Studienanstalt  Zwei- 
briicken). 

WAWRUCH,  R.,  Etude  sur  le  theatre  de 
Racine.  Mahr.-Ostrau,  1889.  4to,  pp. 
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33- 

WECK,  G.,  Quelques  remarques  sur 
1'Hippolyte  d'Euripide  et  la  Phedre 
de  R.  (Progr.)  1874. 

WEIGERT,  A.,  Der  Hippolytus  des  Eu- 
ripides und  die  Phadra  des  Racine, 
nebst  einer  vorausgesandten  Wiirdi- 
gung  des  Euripides.  (Freiburger  Diss.) 
Berlin,  1879.  8vo,  iii,  64. 

WINGERATH,  H.,  De  1'emploi  duchceur 
dans  les  tragedies  de  Racine :  Esther, 
Athalie.  Miihlhausen,  1875.  8vo. 

WOLTERS,  T.  F.  H.,  Etudes  littdraires 
sur  Athalie,  I.,Bois-le-Duc,  1869.  8vo. 

A.  R.  HOHLFELD. 

Vanderbilt  University. 


103. 


104. 


105 


106. 


NO  TES  TO  SCHELLING'S  Book  of  Eliza- 
bethan Lyrics. 

As  a  token  of  gratitude  for  the  enjoyment  I 
have  derived  from  the  charming  book  named 
above,  I  wish  to  offer  a  few  unpretentious 
notes.  Others  may  follow. 

I. 

i,  i  :    The  stately  dames  of  Rome  their  pearls 

did  wear 
About    their    necks    to    beautify    their 

name. 
FLiNius:1 

Et  inserta  margaritarum  pondera  e  collo 
dominarum  auro  pendeant. 

How  much  pearls  were  liked  in  Rome,  is 
evinced  by  another  passage  of  the  same 
writer: 2 

Verum  Arabiae  etiamnum  felicius  mare  est : 
ex  illo  namque  margaritas  mittit :  minitnaque 
computatione  millies  centena  millia  sestertium 
annis  omnibus  India  et  Seres,  peninsulaque 
ilia  imperio  nostro  adimunt. 

II. 

2,  25;  Philomenc. 
The  correct  form  is,  of  course,  Philomela, 

i  Hist.  Nat.,  1.  xxxiii,  c.  12  (3). 
a  /.  e.,  \.  xii,  0.41  (18). 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


304 


Philomel  ;3  the  form  Philomene  is,  however, 
not  uncommon : 
GASCOIGNE  :4 

Phylomene  :  meane    (p.  92). 

Phylomene:  leane       (p.  114). 

Carmina  Burana : 

Philomena  ;  amena       (p.  125). 

Philomene  :  cantilene  (p.  146). 

Philomena  :  pena          (p.  163). 
MAROT  :s 

Philomene:  meine. 
GASPARA  STAMPA:* 

Filomena :  mena 
MANUEL  DE  VILLEGAS  :7 

Filomena:  pena. 

III. 

4.     Lament. 
The  earth,  late  chocked  with  showers, 

Is  now  arrayed  in  green, 
Her  bosom  springs  with  flowers, 
The  air  dissolves  her  teen ; 

The  heavens  laugh  at  her  glory, 
Yet  bide  I  sad  and  sorry. 

The  woods  are  decked  with  leaves, 

And  trees  are  clothed  gay, 
And  Flora,  crowned  with  sheaves, 
With  oaken  boughs  doth  play  ; 
Where  I  am  clad  in  black, 
The  token  of  my  wrack. 

As  Bullen  has  shown,  this  poem  is  "closely 
imitated  from  the  opening  stanzas  of  a  longer 
poem  of  PHILIPPE  DESPORTES,"  beginning : 

La  terre,  naguere  glace"e, 

Est  ores  de  vert  tapisse"e, 

Son  sein  est  embelli  de  fleurs, 

L'air  est  encore  amoureux  d'elle, 

Le  ciel  rit  de  la  voir  si  belle, 

Et  moi  j'en  augmente  mes  pleurs. 

Les  bois  sont  converts  de  feuillage, 

De  vert  se  pare  le  bocage, 

Ses  rameaux  sont  tous  verdissants; 

3  Pp.  35,  17;  132,  5  ;  200,  10. 

4  Tht  Complaynt  of  Philomene,    1576,    Arber's  reprint. 

5  Merlet,  Grands  fccriv.  du  ibe  S.,  1881, p.  330. 

6  Parn.  ft.,  vol.  30,  1787,  p.  258. 

7  Lemcke,  yol.  2,  p.  586. 


Et  moi,  las  !  prive1  de  ma  gloire, 
Je  m'habille  de  couleur  noire, 
Signe  des  ennuis  que  je  sens. 
DESPORTES,  however,  used  an  Italian  mod- 
el, SERAFINO  AQUILANO  :8 
La  nuda  terra  s'a  gia  misso  el  manto 
Tenero,  verde,  et  ogni  cor  allegra  ; 
E  io  pur  ora  do  principle  al  mio  pianto. 
L'arbori  piglian  fronde,  io  vesta  negra; 
Ogni  animali  rinova  la  sua  spoglia, 
La  mia  squarciato  cognor  me  si  fa  integra.9 

IV. 

6,  16 :  The  greene  is  for  maydens  meete. 
Greene  very   likely    denotes    here    incon- 
stancy.10   Skeat's  statement :  "  Blue  was  the 
colour    of    constancy,    and  green  of  incon- 
stancy "  needs  revision." 
V. 

9,  i :  Faint  Amorist,  what !  dost  thou  think 
To  taste  love's  honey,  and  not  drink 
One  dram  of  gall  ? 

PLAUTUS : 

Amor  et  melle  et  felle  est    fecundissimus.12 

(Cistellaria,  68.) 
VI. 
29,  5 :  Within  mine  eyes  he  (sc.  Love)  makes 

his  nest. 
PETRARCA  :js 

Occhi  leggiadri,  dove  Amor  fa  nido. 
RONSARD  :*4 

Ta  veue,  ou  Amour  fait  son  ny. 

VII. 

31,36:  Nature    herself    her   (sc.    Rosalind's) 
shape  admires. 

8  On  Desportes'  indebtedness  to  Italian  poets,  see  Grande 
-Encycl.,  s.v.  Desportes,  ,» 

9  The  verses  of  Aquilano  are  given  in  this  form  in  the 
Rev.d.  Lang,  Rom.,  vol  36  (1892),  p.  496,  apropos  of  a  biblio- 
graphical note. 

10  Cf.  Skeat  to  Chaucer,  Minor  Poems,  1888,  p.  199,  7. 

11  See  Uhland,  Schriften,  vol.    iii,  pp.  430  ff.;  Wacker- 
nagel,  Die  Farben-  und   Blumensprache   des    Mittelalters 
(Kleinere  Schriften,  vol.  i,  pp.  143-240). 

12  On  the  contrasting  of  honey  and  gall  in  Latin  and  Med- 
ieval poetry  see  Otto,  Sprichw.d.   Romer,'\&)O,    s.v.   mel; 
B«zzenberger  to  Freidanks  Bescheidtnheit,  30,  25;  and  Wil- 
manns  to  Walther,  2d  ed.,  15,  18;  1*4,  36, 

13  Ed.  Leopardi-Ambrosoli,  1879,  p.  33. 

14  fid.  Marty-Laveaux,  v.  i  (1887),  p.  318. 


152 


305 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


306 


CHRISTIAN  VON  TROVES  :»s 

Mout  estoit  la  pucele  jante, 

Car  tote  i  ot  mise  s'antante 

Nature  qui  feite  1'avoit. 

Ele  meismes  s'an  estoit 

Plus  de  cine  canz  foiz  mervelliee, 

Comant  une  sole  foiiee 

Tant  bele  chose  feire  sot.16 

VIII. 

31,  39:  And  Love  forsakes  his  heavenly  fires 
And  at  her  eyes  his  brand  doth  light. 
TIBULLUS : 

Illius  ex  oculis,  cum  vult  exurere  divos, 
Accendit  geminas  lampadas  acer  Amor. 

(iv,  ii,  5-) 
IX. 

34,  i :  Fair  is  my  love  for  April  in  her  face. 
MARTELLI  :'? 

Donne,  che  siete  al  secol  nostro  onore, 
E  nei  begli  occhj  avete  eterno  aprile. 

X. 

49.     Sonnet. 
Look,  Delia,  how  we  esteem  the  half-blown 

rose, 

The  image  of  thy  blush  and  summer's  honor, 
Whilst  in  her  tender  green  she  doth  inclose 
That  pure,  sweet  beauty  Time  bestows  upon 

her. 

No  sooner  spreads  her  glory  to  the  air, 
But  straight  her  full-blown  pride  is  in  declin- 
ing; 
She  then  is  scorned  that  late  adorned   the 

fair : 

So  clouds  thy  beauty,  after  fairest  shining. 
No  April  can  revive  thy  withered  flowers, 
Whose  blooming  grace  adorns  thy  glory  now; 
Swift,   speedy    Time,    feathered    with    flying 

hours, 

Dissolves  the  beauty  of  the  fairest  brow. 
O  let  not  then  such  riches  waste  in  vain, 
But  love,  whilst  that  thou  may'st  be  loved 

again. 
TASSO  : 

Deh  mira,  egli  cantd,  spuntar  la  rosa 
Dal  verde  suo  modesta  e  verginella, 

15  Erec,  ed.  Foerster,  1890.  v.  411. 

16  See  also  Foerster's  note,  I.e. 

17  Parn.  It.,  vol.io,  1785,  p.  129. 


Che  mezzo  aperta  ancora,  e  mezzo  ascosa, 
Quanto  si  mostra  men,  tanto  £  piu  bella. 
Ecco  poi  nudo  il  sen  gii  baldanzosa 
Dispiega  ;  ecco  poi  langue,  e  non  par  quella  ; 
Quella  non  par,  che  desiata  avanti 
Fu  da  mille  donzelle  e  mille  amanti. 

Cosl  trapassa  al  trapassar  d'un  giorno 
Delia  vita  mortale  il  fiore  e  il  verde ; 
Ne,  perch6  faccia  indietro  april  ritorno, 
Si  rinfiora  ella  mai,  n£  si  rinverde. 
Cogliam  la  rosa  in  sul  mattino  adorno 
Di  questo  di,  che  tosto  il  seren  perde; 
Cogliam  d'amor  la  rosa ;  amiamo  or  quando 
Esser  si  puote  riamati  amando. 

(Gerus.  Lib.,  c.  xvi,  14-15.) 

XI. 

53,  39  :  Earth  but  a  player's  stage. 
To  the  parallels  referred  to  by  the  editor  I 
would  add : 

HANNAH,  The  Poems  of  Sir  Walter  Ral- 
righ&  collected  and  authenticated,  with  those 
of  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  London,  1892,  pp.  29 
and  1 20. 

MATHIEU:^ 

La  vie  que  tu  vois  n'est  qu'une  comedie, 
Ou  1'un  fait  le  Cesar,  et  1'autre  1'Arlequm : 
Mais  la  mort  la  finit  toujours  en  Tragedie, 
Et  ne  distingue  point  1'Empereur  du  faquin. 

BOISSARD  :2° 

Vita  hominis  tanquam  circus,  vel  grande  thea- 

trum  est : 

Quod  tragici  ostentat  cuncta  referta  metus. 
•Hoc  lasciva  caro,  peccatum,  morsque,  Satan- 

que 
Tristi  hominem  vexant,  exagitantque  modo. 

XII. 

54,  19 :   Love  'twixt  lovers  passeth  these, 

When  mouth  kisseth  and  heart  grees, 
With  folded  arms  and  lips  meeting, 
Each  soul  another  sweetly  greeting; 
For  by  the  breath  the  soul  fleeteth, 
And  soul  with  soul  in  kissing  meeteth. 

18  1.  Ralegh  ;  cf.  Athtnaeum,  Dec.  31,  1892. 

19  Darmesteter  et  Hatzfeld,  1885,  p.  302. 

20  Thtatrum    Vita  Human*,  a   Theodore  Bryio  illus- 
tratum,  excussum  typis  Abrahtimi  Fabri,Mediomatricorum 
typographic  s.  1.  et  a.,  p.  i. 


153 


307 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


308 


CASTIGLIONE  :" 

L'amante  razionale  conosce  che,  ancora  che 
la  bocca  sia  parte  del  corpo,  nientedimeno  per 
quella  si  da  esito  alle  parole,  che  sono  inter- 
preti  dell'anima,  ed  a  quello  intrinseco  anelito 
che  si  chiama  pur  esso  ancor  anima  ;  e  perci6 
si  diletta  d'unir  la  sua  bocca  con  quella  della 
donna  amata  col  bascio,  non  per  moversi  a 
desiderio  alcuno  disonesto,  ma  perche"  sente 
che  quello  legame  e  un  aprir  1'adito  alle 
anime,  che  tratte  dal  desiderio  Tuna  dell'altra 
si  transfondano  alternamente  ancor  Tuna  nel 
corpo  dell'altra,  e  talmente  si  mescolino  in- 
sieme,  che  ognun  di  loro  abbia  due  anime,  ed 
una  sola  di  quelle  due  cosi  composta  regga 
quasi  dui  corpi :  onde  il  bascio  si  p6  piti- 
presto  dir  congiungimento  d'anima  che  di 
corpo,  perch£  in  quella  ha  tanta  forza  che  la 
tira  a  s£,  e  la  separa  dal  corpo ;  per  questo 
tutti  gl'inarnorati  casti  desiderano  il  bascio, 
come  congiungimento  d'anima ;  e  per6  il  di- 
vinamente  inamorato  Platone  dice,  che  ba- 
sciando  vennegli  1'anima  ai  labri  per  uscir  del 
corpo. 

BELLEAU  :22 

1.  Quand  ie  presse  en    baisant   ta   leure    a 

petits  mords, 
Une  part  de  mon  ame  est  viuante  en  la 

tienne, 
Une  part  de  la  tienne  est  viuante  en  la 

mienne, 
Et  vn  mesme  souspir  fait  viure  nos  deux 

corps. 

(p.  86.) 

2.  Lors  que  pour  vous  baiser  ie  m'approche 

de  vous, 
En  souspirant,  mon  ame  a  secrettes  em- 

blees 
S'escoule   hors   de   moy,  sur  vos    leures 

comblees 
D'vn  Nectar  dont  les  Dieux  mesme  seroy- 

ent  ialoux. 

Puis  quand  elle  s'est  peue  en  ce  breuuage 

doux, 
Et  la  mienne  et  la  vostre  ensemble  sont 

meslees, 

Tout  aussi  tost  ie  sens  les  forces  escoulees 

De  mon  corps  affoibly  qui  demeure  sans 

poux.  (p.  89.) 

XIII. 

97,  2  :  Get  with  child  a  mandrake  root. 
The  principal  accent  of  the  verse  lies  on 

21  //  Cortegiane,  ed.  Cian,  1894,  p.  424. 

22  fid.  Marty- La veaux,  vol.  2,  1878. 


"child."  It  would  undoubtedly  have  been 
unheard  of,  and  is  therefore  ranked  as  an  im- 
possibility by  the  poet,  to  get  a  mandrake 
root  with  a  child.  Delius,  to  King  Henry  VI, 
Part  ii,  A.  iii,  Sc.  2  "Would  curses  kill,  as 
doth  the  mandrake's  groan,"  observes  as  fol- 
lows : 

"  Reed  citirt  hierzu  aus  Bulleine's  Bulwark 
of  Defence  against  Sickness  (1579)  folgende 
Stelle  :  They  do  affirm  that  this  herb  cometh 
of  the  seed  of  some  convicted  deadman ; 
and  also  without  the  death  of  some  living 
tiling  it  cannot  be  drawn  out  of  the  earth  to 
man's  use.  Therefore  they  did  tie  some  dog 
or  other  living  beast  unto  the  root  thereof 
with  a  cord,  and  digged  the  earth  in  compass 
round  about,  and  in  the  meantime  stopped 
their  own  ears  for-fear  of  the  terrible  shriek 
and  cry  of  this  mandrake.  In  which  cry  it 
doth  not  only  die  itself,  but  the  fear  thereof 
killeth  the  dog  or  beast  which  pulleth  it  out  of 
the  earth. "23 

XIV. 
134,  12  :  O  Love  !  they  wrong  thee  much 

That  say  thy  sweet  is  bitter. 
CATULLUS : 

....  non  est  dea  nescia  nostri 
quse  dulcem  curis  miscet  amaritiem. 

(68,  18.) 
XV. 

152,  13  : my  pale,  lean  face, 

With  true  characters  of  my  love. 
OVIDIUS  : 
Palleat    omnis  amans:    hie  est  color    aptus 

amanti : 
Hie  decet :  hoc  vultu  non  valuisse  putent. 

Arguat  et  macies  animum. 

(Ars  Amatoria,  1.  i,  729. )24 
XVI. 

156.     Song. 

That  Women  are  but  Men's  Shadows. 
Follow  a  shadow,  it  still  flies  you, 

Seem  to  fly  it,  it  will  pursue  ; 
So  court  a  mistress,  she  denies  you, 
Let  her  alone,  she  will  court :you. 
Say,  are  not  women  truly  then 
Styled  but  the  shadows  of  us  men  ? 

23  See  also  Grimm,  DM,  4th  ed.,  vol.  ii,  pp.   1005   ff;  vol. 
»i»  PP-  352  ff« 

24  See  also  Langlois,  Origines  et  Sources  du  Roman  de  la 
Rose,  Paris,  1891,  p.  81. 


154 


May,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


310 


Kittredge  has  indicated  to  the  editor  "the 
following  striking  parallel  from  an  Eclogue 
of  Bernardino  Baldi  (1553-1617)  entitled  / 
Metitori,  122-125:" 

Fatta  appunto  la  donna  &  come  1'ombra 
De'  nostri  corpi,  cheseguita,  mai 
Arrivar  non  si  lascia  ;  ed  a  colui, 
Che  s'invola  da  lei  sempr'e  a  le  spalle. 
I  hold  the  verses  to  have  been  suggested 
by  WHITNEY  :2s 

Mu Her  Vmbra  Viri. 
Ovr  shadowe  flies,  if  wee  the  same  pursue : 

But  if  wee  flic,  it  followeth  at  the  heele. 
So,  he  throughe  loue  that  moste  dothe  serue, 

and  sue, 

Is  furthest  off  his  mistresse  harte  is  steele. 
But  if  hee  flic,  and  turne  awaie  his  face ; 
Shee  followeth  straight,  and  grones  to  him 

for  grace. 

BALDI  was,  at  any  rate,  not  the  originator  of 
the  sentiment.  For,  as  Green26  observes, 
there  is  an  emblem  similar  to  that  of  Whitney 
to  be  found  already  in  ANEAU.27 

XVII. 
167,  5  :  Perfumes  far  sweeter  than  the  best 

Which    make    the    Phoenix'  urn  and 

nest. 
The  Phoenix  •** 

/>onne  feor  and  neah 

/>a  swetestan  somnafr  and  gaedraft 
wyrta  wynsume  and  wudu-bleda 
to/>am  eard-stede  ae/>el-stenca  gehwone 
wyrta  wynsumra  />e  wuldor-cyning 
feeder  frymda  gehwaes  ofer  foldan  gescop 
to  indryhtum  selda  cynne 
swetes[t]  under  swegle  />aer  he  sylf  biere# 
in  />aet  treow  innan  torhte  fraetwe 
/>aer  se  wilda  fugel  in  />am  westenne 
ofer  heanne  beam  hus  getimbred" 
wlitig  and  wynsum  and  gewicaft  /?aer 
sylf  in  />am  solere  and  ymb-setefr  utan 
in  />am  leaf-sceade  lie  and  fe/»re 
on  healfa  gehware  halgum  stencum 
and  />am  ae^elestum  eor/>an  bledum.29 

25  A  Choice  of  Emblemes,  LeyiUn,  1586,  p.  218. 

26  In  his  reprint  of  Whitney.  London,  1866,  p.  240. 

27  Ptcta  Poesis,  1552. 

28  The  Exeter  Book,  ed.  Gollancz,  1895,  p.  212,  192. 

29  See  Ebert,  vol.   iii,  pp.  73  ff.,and  if  still  more  informa- 
tion is   wanted,  Ebert,  vol.  i   (1889),   Register,   s.v.   Lactan- 
tius  and  Phoenix. 


XVIII. 

168,  14:  Thrice  with  moly  from  my  hand 
Do  I  touch  Ulysses'  eyes. 

See  on  "moly"  Andrew  Lang,  spirited  as 
always,  in  his  Custom  and  Myth,  1884,  pp. 
I43-I55- 

XIX. 
170,  6:  like  the  wind  that  chafes  the  flood, 

Or  bubbles  which  on  water  stood  ; 
Even  such  is  man. 
VARRO: 

cogitans  esse  properandum,  quod  (ut  dicitur) 
si  est  homo  bulla,  eo  magis  senex. 

(De  Re  Rustica,  1.  i,  i.)3<> 

XX. 

194,  i  :  Here  she  was  wont  to  go,  and  here, 

and  here' ! 
Just  where  those  daisies,  pinks,  and 

violets  grow : 
The  world  may  find  the  spring  by 

following  her; 
For  other  print  her  airy  steps  ne'er 

left: 

And   where  she  went,   the  flowers 

took  thickest  root 
As  she  had  sowed  them  with   her 

odorous  foot. 

GIUSTO  DE'  CONTI  131 

il  dolce  passo 

Che  germina  viole  ovunque  move. 
POLIZIANO  : 

Ma  1'erba  verde  sotto  i  dolci  passi 
Bianca  gialla  vermiglia  azzurra  fassi. 

(Stanze,  1.  i,  55.) 
CASTIGLIONE  :3* 

Florido  fa  il  terren  la  ov'ella  il  tocchi. 
Du  BELLAY  :33 

I'ay  veu  Amour  (et  tes  beaulx  traictz  dorez 
M'en  soient  tesmoings)  suyuant  ma  souuereine, 
Naistre  les  fleurs  de  1'infertile  arene 
Apres  ses  pas  dignes  d'estre  adorez. 

30  See  also  Otto,  op.  cit..  s.  v.  bulla. 

31  Parn.  It.,  vol.  vi,  1784,  p.  8. 

32  Parn.  It.,  vol.  xvi,  1785,  p.  93. 

33  fid.  Marty -La  veaux,  vol.  i,  1866,  p.  89. 


155 


May,  1896.     MODEXN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


312 


XXI. 

206,  9  -  207,  32  : 

Only  these  verses  are  a  paraphrase  of  the 
epigram  attributed  to  POSEIDIPPOS.  There 
are  also  more  or  less  free  translations  by 
AUSONIUS,  ed.  Schenkl,  1883,  p.  147,  ERASMUS, 
Adagia,  s.  v.  Optimum  non  nasci,  RONSARD, 
vol.  ii  (1889),  p.  57,  HUGO  GROTIUS,  Epigram- 
matum  Anthologia  Palatina,  ed.  Diibrier,  vol. 
ii  (1888),  p.  71. 

The  one  by  RONSARD  may  be  printed  here  : 

Quel  train  de  vie  est-il  bon  que  ie  suiue, 
A  fin,  Muret,  qu'heureusement  ie  viue? 
Aux^ours  des  Rois  regne  1'ambition, 
Les  Senateurs  sont  pleins  de  passion  : 
Les  maisons  sont  de  mille  soucis  pleines, 
Le  labourage  est  tout  rempli  de  peines, 
Le  matelot  familier  du  labeur 
Dessus  les  eaux  pallit  tousiours  de  peur. 
Celuy  qui  erre  en  vn  pals  estrange, 
S'il  a  du  bien,  il  craint  qu'on  ne  Ie  mange : 
L'indigence  ert  vne  extreme  douleur. 
Le  mariage  est  comble"  de  malheur, 
Et  si  Ion  vit  sans  estre  en  mariage, 
Seul  et  desert  il  faut  vser  son  age  : 
Auoir  enfans,  n'auoir  enfans  aussi 
Donne  tousiours  domestique  souci. 
La  ieunesse  est  peu  sage  et  mal-habile, 
La  vieillesse  est  languissante  et  debile, 
Ayant  tousiours  la  mort  deuant  les  yeux. 
Donque,  Muret,  ie  croy  qu'il  vaudroit  mieux 
L'vn  de  ces  deux,  ou  bien  iamais  de  n'estre, 
Ou  de  mourir  si  tost  qu'on  vient  de  naistre. 

K.  PIETSCH. 
The  Newberry  Library,  Chicago. 


ENGLISH    POETRY. 

A    History    of   English    Poetry:    by  W.  J. 
Courthope,   M.   A.      Vol.   i.      The  Middle 
Ages :    Influence  of  the   Roman  Empire — 
The  Encyclopaedic  Education  of  the  Church 
— The  Feudal  System.      New  York:  Mac- 
millan  &  Co.,  1895.    8vo,  pp.  xxix,  474. 
PROFESSOR  WOODROW  WILSON,  in  an  article 
"  On  the  Writing  of  History  "  (Century,  Sept., 
1895),    after    a    concise    review  of  the  work 
of   Macaulay,   Carlyle,   Gibbon,   and    Green, 
makes  the  suggestive  statement  that  it  is  im- 
possible for  him  to  write  a    perfect  history 


who,  after  infinite  labor  in  the  consultation 
of  original  authorities,  in  the  collection  of 
material,  in  the  amassing  of  notes,  references, 
verifications,  illustrations,  and  all  the  number- 
less details  of  careful  investigations,  then, 

"  thoroughly  stuffed  and  sophisticated,  turns 
back,  and  begins  his  narrative.  It  does  not  do 
to  lose  the  point  of  view  of  the  first  listener 
to  the  tale  or  to  rearrange  the  matter  too 
much  out  of  the  order  of  nature." 

These  remarks  apply  with  equal  force  to 
the  historian  of  literature,  and  they  serve,  to  a 
certain  extent,  as  a  comment  on  the  volume 
before  us.  Hitherto,  histories  of  English  Lit- 
erature that  pretended  to  cover  more  than  a 
limited  period  of  literary  development,  lacked 
unity  and  consecutiveness.  The  work  of 
Morley,  in  his  Short  Sketch  and  his  English 
Writers,  partakes  too  much  of  the  nature  of 
a  short  commentary  on  the  life  and  work  of 
the  individual  authors,  without  any  distinct 
recognition  of  their  place  in  the  grand  fabric 
of  English  Literature.  The  same  must  ne- 
cessarily be  the  fault  of  the  history  of  Eng- 
lish Literature  under  the  joint  authorship  of 
Brooke,  Saintsbury,  and  Gosse,  however 
excellently  each  particular  period  may  be 
written.  Taine's  brilliant  history  can  hardly 
lay  claim  to  accurate  scholarship  or  unpre- 
judiced criticism,  and  Warton's  History  of 
English  Poetry  is  antiquated. 

The  need  of  a  scholarly  treatment  of  the 
history  of  English  Literature  is  thus  apparent. 
This  need  Professor  Courthope  has  endeav- 
ored to  supply.  Avoiding  the  danger  of 
treating  literature  on  the  plan  of  the  school- 
manual,  he  adopts  a  quite  different  and  much 
more  sensible  plan.  He  looks  for  the  "unity 
of  the  subject  in  the  life  of  the  nation  as  a 
whole;"  his  aim  is  to  "treat  poetry  as  an 
expression  of  the  imagination,  not  simply  of 
the  individual  poet,  but  of  the  English  peo- 
ple." There  is  no  doubt  as  to  the  excellence 
of  this  scheme,  and  its  immense  superiority 
over  that  of  any  other  modern  history  is  ad- 
mirably shown  in  Professor  Courthope's  work. 
But  there  is  the  danger  that  Professor  Wilson 
calls  attention  to,  and  we  shall  find  that  our 
author  has  not  avoided  it. 

After  a  brief  introduction,  defining  the  scope 
and  nature  of  the  subject,  Professor  Court- 


156 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


314 


hope  considers  the  character  and  sources  of 
Mediaeval  poetry,  in  which  are  traced  the 
relation  of  mediaeval  to  classical  poetry,  and 
the  development  of  the  primitive  poetry  under 
the  influence  of  the  Church,  the  new  mythol- 
ogy, the  Feudal  institutions,  scholasticism, 
and  Oriental  culture.  A  short  chapter  is  then 
devoted  to  the  whole  period  of  Anglo-Saxon 
poetry,  in  which  it  is  impossible  to  do  full 
justice  to  the  significance  of  our  earliest  liter- 
ature. The  fourth  chapter  deals  with  Anglo- 
Norman  poetry,  in  which  is  considered  the 
influence  of  this  poetry  on  the  English,  and 
which  contains  nearly  all  that  treats  of  the 
vast  extent  of  Middle  English  poetry.  The 
fifth  chapter,  dealing  with  the  early  Renais- 
sance, characterizes  the  early  Italian  and  the 
early  French  Literature,  and  treats  of  the 
political  awakening  of  the  English  in  the 
thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries,  as  shown 
in  their  songs.  Langland  is  the  subject  of  the 
sixth  chapter,  and  Chaucer  of  the  seventh. 
Chaucer  is  considered  as  a  translator,  as  an 
imitator,  and  as  an  inventor,  thus  covering  his 
whole  literary  life.  The  "Epical  School" 
follows,  in  which  Gower,  Lydgate,  and  Occleve 
are  treated.  The  remaining  chapters  deal 
with  the  "Progress  of  Allegory,"  the  "Rise 
of  the  Drama  in  England,"  the  "Decay  of 
English  Minstrelsy,"  and  a  brief  "Retro- 
spect." 

A  good  illustration  of  Professor  Wilson's 
remarks  is  furnished  in  the  Chapter  on  Anglo- 
Saxon  Literature.  After  a  most  inadequate 
statement  of  the  metrical  principles  of  A.-S. 
verse, — a  mere  quotation  from  Vigfusson  and 
Powell's  Corpus  Poeticum  Boreale, — he  di- 
vides all  the  poetry  into  three  classes :  i. 
Purely  Teutonic ;  2.  Scriptural  story  in  Teu- 
tonic spirit ;  3.  Christian.  Under  the  first 
head  are  included  Widsid,  Deor,  and  Beo- 
wulf. Nothing  is  said  about  the  Waldere 
fragments,  nor  the  fragment  of  the  fight  at 
Finnesburg,  both  of  which  are  too  important 
to  be  neglected  in  any  sketch  of  A.-S.  poetry. 
Professor  Courthope's  theory  of  the  Beowulf 
is  that  the  work  is  a  unity,  and  that  it  "pro- 
ceeded from  the  mind  of  a  single  poet,  though 
it  was  doubtless  built  by  him  out  of  materials 
previously  existing."  The  poet  was  a  Chris- 
tian, but  not  necessarily  an  ecclesiastic.  He 


was  a  roving  scop,  like  him  of  the  Widsid. 

Under  the  second  head  are  considered  the 
so-called  Caedmon  poems,  and  under  the  third 
the  poems  of  Cynewulf  and  his  school.  In- 
stead of  assigning  the  Andreas  to  Cynewulf, 
as  Professor  Courthope  does,  and  classing  it 
under  his  third  head,  he  should  have  put  it 
under  his  second.  It  is  a  Christian  story,  and 
has  much  of  the  fierce  Teutonic  spirit  of  the 
Beowulf.  Guthlac  A  (Prof.  Courthope  does 
not  mention  the  two  parts  of  Guthlac)  and  the 
Fata  Apostolorum  are  still  a  subject  of  dis- 
pute as  to  authorship,  and  have  no  right  to  be 
given  unreservedly  to  Cynewulf. 

As  a  curious  illustration  of  Professor  Court- 
hope's  Anglo-Saxon  the  specimen  on  pp.  106- 
7  will  serve,  where  there  are  six  mistakes  in 
spelling,  fifteen  words  with  the  quantity  of  the 
syllable  wrongly  marked,  and  one  instance 
where  a  false  punctuation  alters  the  trans- 
lation. The  translation  is  Arnolds,  and  is 
faulty. 

In  his  treatment  of  Anglo-Norman  poetry, 
Professor  Courthope  gives  far  too  little  at- 
tention to  the  poetry  of  the  Romances,  as  it 
bloomed  in  England  in  the  fourteenth  century. 
The  four  great  Cycles  of  Romances  are  treated 
with  the  scantiest  justice.  Hardly  anything 
is  said  of  the  poems  of  Gawayne,  Recounder, 
William  of  Palerne,  etc.  These  poems  consti- 
tute a  very  important  factor  in  the  poetry  of 
the  period,  both  in  their  subject-matter,  and 
in  their  form  as  being  vigorous  survivals  of 
the  A.-S.  metre.  Nothing  is  said  in  the 
volume  before  us  of  the  history  of  this  survival, 
although  it  goes  back  in  a  direct  line  to  its  A.- 
S.  original.  To  speak  of  Langland  "resusci- 
tating a  form  of  metrical  expression  which 
time  and  the  nature  of  things  had  rendered 
obsolete"  (p.  246)  is  contrary  to  the  known 
history  of  the  metre. 

When  Professor  Courthope  says  (p.  263), 

"Chaucer  had  therefore  to  create  for  his 
imaginary  history  [Troilus  and  Cressidd]  an 
equally  imaginary  historian,  and  this  he  did 
by  citing  the  '  Latin  '  of  the  supposed  Trojan 
historian  Lollius," 

he  contradicts  himself,  for  two  pages  before 
he  states  that  Chaucer  believed  Lollius  to  be 
the  author  of  the  Trojan  war,  and  he  quotes 
the  line  from  Horace,  already  noticed  in 


157 


315 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANG UAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


316 


Athenceum,  Oct.  3,  1868,  as  conjectured  proof. 

With  the  exception  of  a  table  giving  the 
mere  sources  of  the  Canterbury  Tales,  noth- 
ing is  said  regarding  Chaucer's  relation  to  his 
originals.  It  is  not  easy  to  form  a  just  estimate 
of  the  poet's  artistic  skill  in  story-telling  with- 
out considering  the  crude  narratives  which 
go  to  form  the  subject-matter  of  his  tales. 
Chaucer's  material  goes  through  such  a  trans- 
formation in  his  hands  as  distinguishes  him 
from  the  mere  literary  artisan,  Gower,  and 
to  neglect  such  an  important  feature  of  criti- 
cism as  the  relation  to  originals  is  to  leave  the 
reader  without  one  of  the  surest  evidences  of 
the  poet's  genius. 

Enough  has  been  said  from  these  few  sec- 
tions of  the  History  to  indicate  its  shortcom- 
ings. The  merits  of  the  book  are  its  unfailing 
interest,  its  attractive  style,  and  the  admirable 
scheme  on  which  it  is  planned.  The  necessity 
of  regarding  literary  history  as  we  have  come 
to  regard  national  history  cannot  be  too  strongly 
emphasized.  Professor  Courthope's  work  is 
an  attempt  to  look  at  our  literature  from  this 
point  of  view,  and,  in  so  far  as  he  has  not 
allowed  himself  to  be  careless  of  details,  he 
has  given  us  a  history  of  English  poetry  which 
will  be  helpful  and  suggestive  in  the  study  of 
our  literature.  In  the  succeeding  volumes  we 
shall  doubtless  have  a  result  that  will  do  more 
justice  to  the  subjects  considered,  and  that 
will  reveal  our  author  on  ground  with  which 
he  has  already  shown  himself  thoroughly 
familiar. 

JAS.  W.  TUPPER. 
Johns  Hopkins  University. 


CORRESPONDENCE. 


ENGLISH  BALLADS. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS: — There  are  not  a  few  passages  in 
English  ballads  which  have  never  been  satis- 
factorily explained.  Light  upon  those  which 
here  follow  would  be  gratefully  received,  in- 
cluding conjectural  emendations  when  these 
seem  to  be  required. 

ARCHERY. — frese  your  bowes  of  ewe. — 
Stanza  215  of  A  Gest  of  Robyn  Hode.  (Later 
copies,  bend  we.) 


a  bearing  arrow. — Adam  Bell,  st.  150,  and 
elsewhere. 

Robin  Hood  and  Guy  of  Gisborne  shoot  at  a 
wand  (pricke-wand).  What  is  meant  then  by 
Guy's  shooting  "within  the  garland,"  in  st. 
31  ?  We  have  a  rose-garland  again  in  the 
Gest  of  R.  H.,  7th  Fit,  where  there  is 
shooting  at  yerds  or  wands,  stanzas  397,  398. 
Here  we  may  conceive  that  a  garland  was 
hung*  upon  the  yerd  ;  but  in  the  other  case  the 
two  men  meet  in  a  wood,  and  a  rose-garland 
could  not  easily  be  extemporised  (though 
a  rod  might  be  bent  into  a  circlet  and  at- 
tached to  the  wand). 

With  that  ther  cam  an  arrowehastely,  forthe 
off  a  myghtte  wane. — Hunting  of  the  Cheviot, 
Ashmole  MS.,  st.  36.  (The  gloss,  "a  single  ar- 
row out  of  a  vast  quantity  "  (zvone)  seems  to  me 
prosaic  and  not  in  the  style  of  the  ballad.  Is 
there  any  case  of  wane,  wain,  used  as  the  ve- 
hicle of  a  shaft  ?) 

Loxly  puld  forth  a  broad  arowe,  he  shott  it 
under  hand. — Robin  Hood  and  Q.  Katherine, 
Percy  MS.,  st.  29. 

R.  H.  Garland  of  1663,  st.  26.  Then  did  the 
king's  archer  his  arrows  command,  but  Robin 
shot  under  his  hand,  and  hit  the  mark.  (R. 
Hood  and  Q.  K.  again.) 

MARINE. — (Sir  Andrew  Barton).  He  clasped 
me  to  his  archborde. — Percy  MS.,  st.  23. 

Either  in  archbord  (MS.  charkebord)  or  in 
hall,  st.  29.  (Perhaps  hatch-bord,  as  in  st.  36, 
st.  70.)  What  is  hatch-bord? 

Sir  A.  Barton,  York  copy,  Surtees  Society, 
vol.  Ixxxv,  p.  64,  st.  30:  Ethere  bye  lerbord  or 
by  lowe,  that  Scolte  would  overcome  yowe. 

Roxburgh  copy,  st.  34.  Thus  bravely  did 
Lord  Howard  pass,  and  did  on  anchor  rise  so 
high  (while  sailing). 

York  copy,  st.  59.  Horsley  with  a  broode- 
arrowe-head  tooke  hime  in  at  the  buttuke  of 
the  utuer  beame. 

And  he  schet  not  to  hye ; 
brow  the  sanchopis  of  his  bryk ; 
It  towchyd  ney^ier  thye. 

Robyn  and  Gandeleyn. 

Here  be  the  best  coresed  hors  that  ever  yet 
sawe  I. — Gest  of  R.  H.,  st.  100.  (Later  copies: 
corese,  corse.)  Bodied  ? 

How  much  is  in  yonder  other  corsert — 
Gest,  st.  256.  Later  copies :  What  is  on  the 


158 


317 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


other  courser?  in  the  other  coffer?    Qy.  for- 
cer? 

"Pottys,"  he  gan  crye,  "  haffe  hansel  for 
the  mare." — R.  Hood  and  the  Potter,  st.  32. 

That  fend  I  Godys  forbod.— R.  H.  and  the 
Potter,  st.  72.  (Qy.  That  fend  I,  Godys  for- 
bode !) 

When  shawes  beene  sheene  and  shradds 
full  fayre. — R.  H.  and  Guy  of  Gisborne,  st.  i. 

Litul  John  stode  at  a  wyndow  and  lokid 
forth  at  a  stage. — R.  H.  and  the  Monk,  st.  39. 

With  fryars  and  monks,  with  their  fine 
sprunks. —  King's  Disguise  and  Friendship 
with  R.  H.,  st.  12. 

This  was  the  hontynge  off  the  Cheviat,  that 
tear  begane  this  spurn:  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot, 
Ashmole  MS.,  st.  65.  ("That  tear  or  pull 
brought  about  this  kick"  seems  to  me  quite 
improbable.  I  take  that  tear  to  be  that  there 
=there,  a  superfluous  that  being  common.) 
—  I'le  haue  that  traitor's  head  of  thine,  to 
enter  plea  att  my  iollye. — Hugh  Spencer, 
Percy  MS.,  st.  32.  (A  most  difficult  place; 
iollye  should  perhaps  be  iollyte.) 

This  roasted  cock  shall  crow  full  fences 
three,  st.  10;  And  then  three/ences  crowed  he, 
st.  u. — Carol  of  the  Carnal  and  the  Crane. 

When  that  he  came  to  lohn  of  the  Scales, 
Vpp  at  the  spetre  he  looked  then . 

The  Heir  of  Linne,  Percy  MS.,  20. 


Harvard  College. 


F.  J.  CHILD. 


"Underhand."  Ascham's  Toxophilus helps 
to  explain  this.  We  read:  "Men  doubt  yet, 
in  looking  at  the  mark,  what  way  is  best  .... 
above  or  beneth  hys  hand."  And  among  the 
things  which  hinder  good  shooting:  "a  byg 
brested  shafte  for  hym  that  shoteth  under 
hande,  bycause  it  wyll  hobble."  As  he  is 
here  speaking  only  of  taking  aim,  under-hand 
shooting  would  seem  to  be  done  when  the 
archer  raised  his  bow  high,  and  looked  at  the 
mark  under  the  arrow-hand. 

"  Bye  lerbord  or  by  lowe."  Lowe  I  take  to 
be  a  form  of  luff,  the  weather-side.  "  With 
steirburd,  baburd,  luf  and  lie"  (The  Fleming 
Barge).  Lowe  (pron.  loo)  would  be  formed 
from  luff  by  the  usual  elision,  as  lude  from 
luffit. 

"A  stage"  is  a  storey.     He  looked  forth 


from  an  upper  storey. 

"  That  tear"  is,  no  doubt,  "that  there,"  as 
Prof.  Child  suggests;  but  the  "that  "does 
not  seem  to  me  superfluous. 

W.  HAND  BROWNE. 

Johns  Hopkins  University. 


MOD.  LANG.  ASSOCIA  TION  OF  GER- 
MANY. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS  : — The  Modern  Language  Association 
of  Germany  will  hold  its  next  biennial  meet- 
ing at  Hamburg  on  May  26,  27,  and  28  of  this 
year.  There  will  be,  on  this  occasion,  an 
exhibition  of  books  and  materials  of  every 
kind  pertaining  to  the  instruction  of  English 
(language,  literature  and,  above  all,  realien). 
The  Hamburg  section  ,of  the  M.  L.  A.  of  G. 
(Verein  fiir  das  Studium  der  neueren  Sprachen 
in  Hamburg-Altona)  has  been  making  prep- 
arations for  this  exhibition  for  a  long  time, 
and  has  been  granted  a  subsidy  by  the  govern- 
ment to  enable  it  to  carry  on  its  work  success- 
fully, and  to  make  the  valuable  collection  of 
material  as  complete  as  possible. 

From  a  circular  which  I  received  some 
weeks  ago  from  Professor  Wendt,  the  presi- 
dent of  the  association,  I  beg  to  quote  the 
following  passages,  which  will  sufficiently  ex- 
plain the  aim  and  purport  of  the  undertaking  : 

.  .  .  Es  handelt  sich  in  der  Hauptsache  um 
die  Ausstellung  solcher  Werke  und  Schriften, 
die  dem  Lehrer  die  Kenntnis  der  englischen 
Realien  zu  vermitteln  geeignet  sind :  daran 
sollen  sich  noch  Worterbiicher  und  Anschau- 
ungs — Unterrichtsmittel  schliessen. 

Wir  haben  im  folgenden  einen  vorlaufigen, 
im  Einzelnen  noch  wenig  geordneten  Katalog 
aufgestellt,  und  an  eine  grossere  Zahl  von 
Fachmannern  gesandt,  um  uns  deren  Unter- 
stiitzung  rechtzeitig  zu  sichern.  Unter  Be- 
riicksichtigung  der  uns  in  hoffentlich  recht 
ausgedehntem  Masse  zugehender  Mitteilungen 
werden  wir  in  den  Osterferien  die  Auswahl 
des  englischen  Materials  in  London  selbst 
vornehmen  und  gleich  nach  Ostern  an  die 
Aufstellung  des  endgultigen  Katalogesgehen, 
der  auch  fur  die  Nichtbesucher  der  Ausstel- 
lung von  Wert  sein  diirfte 

Wir  bitten  Sie  freundlichst,  das  Verzeichms 

priifen  und Ihrer  Ansicht  nach  Feh- 

lendes  dem  Unterzeichneten  mitteilen  zu  wol- 

len. 
Bei  einigen  der  kostspieligen  Werke,  deren 


159 


319 


May,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES,     Vol.  xi,  No.  5. 


320 


kaufliche  Erwerbung  wir  gern  umgehen  moch- 
ten,  bedeutet  das  vorgesetzte  Fragezeichen, 
ob  der  Besitzer  vielleicht  bereit  ist,  uns  das- 
selbe — gegen  Erstattung  aller  Unkosten — fur 
die  Zeit  der  Ausstellung  zu  uberlassen. 

The  provisional  catalogue  contains  the  titles 
of  works  under  the  following  headings:  Books 
of  reference;  Encyclopaedias,  etc.;  Govern- 
ment, Constitution,  Public  institutions;  Edu- 
cation, schools,  colleges,  universities ;  Army, 
navy,  etc.;  History  and  geography ;  Country 
and  people  ("Land  und  Leute ;  ")  Manners 
and  customs;  Sport;  Dictionaries  (English, 
English-German,  German-English ;)  Slang, 
etc.;  Press,  Book-trade,  etc.;  Fachzeitschrif- 
ten  ; — Anschauungsmittel  fur  den  Unterricht; 
— English  newspapers  and  periodicals. 

I  think  this  exhibition  will  probably  interest 
the  educators,  scholars  and,  especially,  the 
modern-language  men  not  only  of  Great- 
Britain  but  also  of  this  country  and  Canada. 
There  are  indeed,  for  the  present,  only  very 
few  American  books  noted  in  the  catalogue ; 
and  I  am  surprised  not  to  find  there,  among 
the  Fachzeitschriften,  beside  the  Anglia, 
Englische  Studien,  Neuere  Sprachen,  etc., — 
the  MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES  and  the  Pub- 
lications of  the  Modern  Language  Association 
of  America,  which  have  done  so  much  for  the 
study  of  English  and  are  so  favorably  known 
in  Europe,  at  least  in  Germany. 

A.  RAMBEAU. 
Johns  Hopkins  University. 


SHAKESPEARE  PARONOMASTES. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS:— Capell,  in  his  Notes  on  Shakespeare, 
gives  from  a  rare  and  obscure  pamphlet,  an 
anecdote  which,  though  it  is  familiar  to 
Shakespeareans,  I  shall  cite  in  his  own  words: 

"  Shakespeare  was  god-father  to  one  of  Ben 
Jonson's  children,  and  after  the  christening, 
being  in  deep  study,  Jonson  cametochearhim 
up,  and  asked  him  why  he  was  so  melancholly. 
'No,  faith,  Ben,'  says  he,  'not  I;  but  I  have 
been  considering  a  great  while  what  should 
be  the  fittest  gift  for  me  to  bestow  upon  my 
god-child,  and  I  have  resolved  at  last.'  '  I 
pray  thee,  what?  ',  says  he.  '  I'  faith,  Ben,  I'll 
e'en  give  her  a  dozen  good  Latin  (latten) 
spoons,  and  thou  shalt  translate  them." 

Capell,  referring  to  the  way  in  which  Jon- 


son  transferred  Tacitus  bodily  into  his  Sejanus, 
thinks  that  this  gibe  must  have  '  cut  him  to 
the  quick.'  Later  biographers  turn  up  the 
nose  at  the  pun  as  too  poor  and  pointless  even 
for  Shakespeare  ;  but  none  of  them  (as  far  as  I 
have  seen)  preceives  that  it  is  a  double  pun. 
Ben  was  not  only  a  famous  Latin  scholar,  but 
profoundly  versed  in  the  lore  of  alchemy. 
Now  '  translate  '  was  used  by  Shakespeare 
and  his  contemporaries  in  the  sense  of  '  trans- 
mute ;  '  for  example  : 

Translate  his  malice  toward  you   into    love. 

Cor.  ii,  3. 

And  Shakespeare's  other  meaning  was  : 
'  I'll  give  a  dozen  brass  (latten)  spoons,  which 
you  may  transmute  into  gold.' 

Shonld  this  view  be  tenable,  then,  if  there 
be  any  honor  due  him  who  makes  two  puns 
grow  where  only  one  grew  before,  I  respect- 
fully submit  my  claim  to  consideration. 

W.  HAND  BROWNE. 
Johns  ff  op  kins  University. 

AN  ANGLO-SAXON  GLOSS. 

To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS  :  —  In  the  Wright-Wulker  Vocabularies, 
col.  191,  line  29,  occurs  the  gloss,  "  Siliqua- 
striim,  uel  cathedra  yuadrata,fit>erscytesete\." 
This  gloss,  I  suspect,  is  derived  from  Hyginus' 
Astronomica,  ii.  10,  or  iii.  9.  The  word  sili- 
quastrum  (seliquastrum)  is  likewise  found  in 
Varro  and  Festus  ;  Professor  Minton  Warren 
also  calls  my  attention  to  Corpus  Glossariorum, 
vol.  v,  p.  513.  But  that  Hyginus  is  more  likely 
to  have  been  the  immediate  source  for  the 
knowledge  of  the  word  among  the  Anglo- 
Saxons  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that 
Becle  uses  Hyginus,  though  without  acknowl- 
edgment, in  his  treatise  De  Circuits  Sphcerce 
et  Polo  (cf.  Hyginus,  ed.  Bunte,  p.  8). 

ALBERT  S.  COOK. 
Yale  University. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES. 

SIRS:  —  Touching  Prof.  Blackburn's  "Note 
on  Alfred's  Cur  a  Pastoralis  "  in  the  February 
number  of  your  Journal,  I  beg  to  refer  to  §9  b 
(misprinted  d)  of  my  Die  Syntax  in  den 
Werken  Alfreds  des  Grossen  (Bonn,  1894), 
where  I  suggested  the  same  meaning  for  the 
rather  puzzling  expression  geficef  bion. 

J.  ERNST  WULFING. 
University  of  Bonn. 


160 


MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES. 


Baltimore,  June,    18JMJ. 


NO  TES  ON  HA  LVS  CONCISE  ANGL  O- 

S  A  XON  DICTIONARY.     I. 
WHEN  Mr.  Hall  set  to  work  on  his  Anglo- 
Saxon   Dictionary,   it   was   with    the  avowed 
purpose  of  enabling  the  student  to  have  'some- 
thing better  to  begin  with  than  the  Ettmiiller 
or  Bosworth  of  forty  or  fifty  years  ago.'     And, 
in  fact,  with  the  wealth  of  sources   to  draw 
upon,  he  nSight  have  given  us  a   work   that 
could  safely  be  placed  into  the  hands  of  the 
beginner  and  that  would   prove  to  be  a  real 
assistance  to  him  in  the  study  of  Old  English. 
However,  Mr.  Hall's  principal  aim  seems  to 
have  been  to  swell  the  bulk  of  his  book,  so 
that  he  might  be  able  to  say  that  '  the  number 
of  words  given  which  are  not  to  be  found  in 
the  parts  of  Bosworth-Toller  already  issued  is 
upwards  of  two  thousand.'    With  that  goal  in 
view,  he  has  not  troubled  himself  with  care- 
fully examining  his  sources  :  Leo's  dictionary, 
Bosworth's,  Will  ker's   rendition   of   Wright's 
glossaries,  Sweet's  Oldest  English  Texts,  etc., 
are  simply  so  many  books  that  furnish  him  ma- 
terial for  compilation  ;  wherever  he  finds  any 
thing  looking  like  a  word  that  might  be  entered 
in  his   book,    he  forthwith  puts  it  down.     No 
wonder,  then,  that  a  good  many  'repeaters' 
have  made  their  appearance  and  swelled  the 
volume  of  the  legitimate  vote.     For  example, 
Leo  in  his  dictionary,  exhibits  a   compound 
sygdiryfter,  which  is  the  sigdiriftr  on  record 
in  the  Epinal-Erfurt  glossaries  as  Old  English 
for  falcis  (Corpus   Gloss.  Lat.  v,  361,  $='si8e 
riftras  in  the  Corpus   Glossary  (WW.  21,   17). 
This  sigdi  riftr  Sweet  in  his  OET.  gives  cor- 
rectly as  two  words  and  accordingly  we  find 
in  Hall's  book  for  the  two  words  three  entries, 
namely, 


rifter   sm.   reaping-hook,   side,  scythe  ;  and 
sygdiryfter  sm.  plane  ?  (Leo). 

In  the  MSS.  the  forms  for/  and  w  are  often 
so  nearly  alike  that  they  have  given  rise  to 
many  misunderstandings  and  errors  in  tran- 
scribing. Owing  to  such  a  mistake  Leo  has  a 
form  beaf  (for  bealv)  and  so  we  find  by  the 
side  of  the  correct  lbeaw  sm.  gadfly,'  the 


wrong  'bfaf  gadfly  (Leo)'  in  Hall's  .  book. 
Just  as/and  u>,  so  appear /and  /-occasionally 
mixed  tip,  owing  to  the  similarity  of  their 
form  in  the  MSS.;  so  we  have  WW.  240,  16 
flebilis  werendtic  mistakenly  for  wependlic, 
but  Hall,  indiscriminately,  has  taken  up  both 
forms ;  I  do  not  know  to  whom  he  is  indebted 
for  the  correct  entry  ^wependlic  deplorable, 
mournful,'  but  from  Wright-Wiilker  240,  16, 
he  got: 

'werendlic  lamentable,  doleful.' 
In  the  Corpus  Glossary  (ed.  Hessels,  C  443) 
there  is  a  clibecti  explaining  cliboswn;  Sweet, 
owing  to  some  strange  mistake  thought  this 
meant  '  cleaving  '  and  thus  it  appears  in  Hall's 
book.  This  same  clibosum  occurs  again  WW. 
364,  19  glossed  clifihte,  then  in  the  form  ditto- 
sum  i.  in£/inafumtWW«  205, 33,  glossed  difa-h- 
tio  and  finally  as  '  diuosus  difig,  to/iyM\VW. 
in,  36,  and  so  we  find  then  by  the  side  of  the 
wrong  '  clifeht,  cleaving  '  the  two  correct  en- 
tries of  the  same  Word: 

^clifahtig,  steep,  and   difig,  difiht,  steep.'. 
There  is  no  documentary  evidence  justifying 
such  an  entry  as  eorficrypel,  'earth-creeper,' 
paralytic,  palsied  man  ;  it  is  simply  an  inven- 
tion of  Mr.  Sweet  who  in  this  way  tried  to  get 
at  the  meaning  of  the  gloss  applare  eorscripel 
which  he  found  in  the  Corp.   67.  (ed.  Hessels, 
A  7o6=WW.  6,  23.)    Very  likely  applare  is 
blunder  for  anriculare_or  auriscalpu    (auris 
scalprum,  cf.  Corp.  Gloss.  Lat.  ii,  482,  57).     At 
any  rate,  the  eorscripel 'of  the  Corp.   Glossary 
is  surely  identical  with  \heearscryp_tlof  WW. 
291,   27  glossing  auricularis,  which  Hall  has 
entered  as  e ar-scripel  -scrypel  '  earpicker,  lit- 
tle finger.'     By  the  side  of  that  we  find  also 
the  entry  eorscripel=earscripel,  that  is  to  say, 
the  very  same  word  which  already  had  been 
mtered  in  the   wrong  form  eordcripel  was 
ntered  again,   only  now  in    its   right    form, 
eorscripel.     It  is   just    so    with    the    words : 
'cilma,     tecelma,     cecilma.       Under    ecilma 
yoiT  are   referred    to    cccelma    which    is  ex- 
plained as  meaning  'chilblain,'  for  czcilma  we 
must    be    satisfied    with    the    Latin  palagra 
hat  appears  WW.  227,  8.    (Of  ecilmehti,  gloss- 
ng  palagdrigus  WW.  38,  7,  he  does  not  make 
*ny  mention  at  all.)    Now,  if  Mr.  Hall  had 


161 


323 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


324 


carefully  examined  his  sources,  he  would  not 
have  been  taken  in  by  Mr.  Sweet's  '  (zcelma, 
chilblain,'1  for  then  he  could  not  have  failed 
to  see  that  the  palagra  glossed  ecilma,  WW. 
37,24  (to  which  gloss  Sweet's  cecelma, chilblain,' 
refers)  is  identical  with  the  palagra  glossed 
£eci/wa,WW.  277,8,  and  also  with  the  palagra 
glossed  cecelma,  WW.  468,  14.  As  to  the 
word  palagra,  it  looks  like  a  conflation  of  a 
Latin  and  Greek  word,  perhaps  it  \s=paletz 
acyra  (— a% vpa),  cf.  Corp.  Gloss.  Lat.  iii,  299, 
64,  cmvpa,paleae;  ibid.  508,  22  axyra, palea; 
508,  23  axras,  palea ;  193,  49  achnra,  palea. 
The  Old  English  cscelma  (czcilma,  ecilma) 
would  then  be  a  derivative  of  eecil  (ecil)  2= 
egl  by  means  of  the  suffix  -ma3  (cf.  Northum- 
brian wczst:  common  Anglo-Saxon  wcsstnia 
wcsstm,  MHG.  bluost:  Anglo-Saxon  bldstma). 
We  can  then  also  dispose  of  WW.  38,  7  palag- 
drigus  ecilmehti  which  would  be  paleariumg. 
acyreotn  (=axvP£°J*/,  cf.  Corp.  Gloss.  Lat.  iii, 
299,  77)  ecilt»ehci=ecilmecci,  cf.  OHG.  gauis- 
sa-hi  quisquilitz.  The  meaning  of  the  word 
would  then  be  '  heap  of  ails  (eils),'  '  bran-bin.' 
Cockayne  thinks  that  palagra  is  corrupted, 
from  podagra,  which  is  certainly  possible,  but 
hardly  probable  in  this  instance,  since  the 
Anglo-Saxon  interpretation  is  not  in  favor  of 
it.  For.it  must  be  borne  in  mind,  these  Anglo- 
Saxon  explanations  are  (as  a  rule)  but  substi- 
tutes of  former  Latin  interpretations  and  they 
generally  keep  close  to  the  meaning  of  the 
Latin  words  they  represent.  Now  if  podagra 

1  Sweet  has  it  from  Cockayne.     Letchd.  ii,  367. 

2  Cf.  Epinal  Glossary,  ed.  Sweet,  p.  21,  E  12  quisquilia 
ahrian  (=Corp,   Gl.  Lat.  v,  385,  48);  Erfurt  Gl.  (=(Jorp. 
Gl.  Lat.  v,  385,  48)  quisquili*  agrihan. 

3  This  suffix  gives  the  word  a  tinge  of  generality,  as  seen 
from  the  Erfurt  Gloss,  tyndir-m  (  Corp.  Gloss,  Lat.  v,  367, 
27)=everything  pertaining  to  'tinder.'  Just  so  we  hav«  tvyrsm 
(by  metathesis  -wyrmsJN  W.  210,  42  colera  uentris  inflatio  uel 
solutio  wyrnts  and  from  that  wyrmsif,WW .494,  7  purulentis 
(fCEin   wyrmsigum  )   by   the   side   of  wyrs   in   WW.    113,   8 
phtisis  wyrs-hr(Kcing  uel  wyrs  us(=ur)spiung.      Hence    I 
think  that  the  interpretation  deagwyrmede  appearing  WW. 
161,  31  for podtsricu s  ought  to  be  fteohgtivyrsmedc,  'suffering 
with  thigh-(hip-)  disease,'  and  dcRggtde  stands  very  likely  for 
fieohecede  'suffering  with  thigh-(hip-)ache.'     Hall  has  taken 
up  both  words   without  a  challenge.     In  Gregory's    Past. 
Care  i,  273,  22  (F.ETS.,  ed.  Sweet)  we  meet  with  a  -wors-m 
putrtdo    (Epinal  Gloss.,  ed.  Sweet,  p.  19,  C.  7)  pus  ivors-nt. 

4  These  may  have  been  steps  of   corruption  :  paleariGf. 
agyreor,  palcargarigeor,p*lagorigur,  palagdrigus. 


had  been  the  lemma,  the  interpretation  would 
very  likely  have  been  dolor pedum  and  that 
no  such  thing  can  be  represented  by  czcelma, 
is  clear,  whether  we  take  it  to  mean  as  Cock- 
ayne does  'annoying  chill'  or  as  I  should  say, 
'furfuration.'  The  way  Cockayne  has  arrived 
at  the  meaning  '  chilblain  '  is  this  :  Moneia  ex- 
hibits a  gloss  mulas  acelman.  Mula, however, 
according  to  Gl.  Harl.  3388,  est  quccdam  in- 
firmitas  in  homine  qucs  vocatur  gybehos,  that 
is,  says  Cockayne,  'kibe  of  heel,'  which  is 
confirmed  by  Florio's  mule  Kibes  chilblanes 
and  Cotgrave's  mule  a  Kibe.  But  Mone's 
mules,\  have  reason  to  believe,  is  rather  muti- 
lation oiglumulas  anAglumula  we  find  glossed 
WW.  412,  3  by  gewrid  egenu  ofide  scealu, 
which  fits  in  with  the  explanation  we  have 
offered  and  also  Leechd.  ii,  70 pis  sceal  wip 
cscelman  and  wip  pon  pe  men  acalep  fel  of 
pamfotum  can  well  be  explained  along  those 
lines:  'This  is  to  be  used  against  furfuration 
and  in  case  one  gets  the  skin  of  the  feet  fur- 
furaceous,  that  is,  the  skin  peals  off.'  And  that 
our  explanation  of  (zcelma  would  hold  good, 
even  if  palagra  is  all  right  as  it  seems,  is  to  be 
inferred  from  Corp.  Gloss.  Lat.  iii,  604,  23,  pala- 
gra pushtlu  rupta  in  cute.  Likely  enough,  is 
this  palagra  identical  with  modern  Italian 
pellagra  ;  'malattia  molto  frequence  dei  nos- 
tri  paesi  subalpini  .  .  .  Malattia  dellapella 
deU'ordine  delle  impetigini,laquale particolar- 
mente  attacca  il  dorso  delle  tiiani  e  de'piedi 
con  senso  molesto  di  stiramento,  di prurito  e 
di  ardore,  a  cui  succede  lo  screpolamento  della 
cuticola,  per  cui  cadendo  questa  sotto  la  forma 
di  squamma  furfuracec  rimane  la  dermide 
denudata,  presentando  dalle  macchie  irrego- 
lari  rossice  e  lucenti,  as  the  Dizionario  of 
Tommaseo-Bellini  has  it.  Of  course,  if  pal- 
agra is  one  word,  then  palagdrigus  may  be 
a  mistake  for  the  adjective  derived  from  it, 
palagricus  and  ecilmehti  is  then  ecilm-ehti(g) 
'  full  of  furfuration,  inclined  to  be  furfura- 
ceous.' 

From  egl  (egle),  the  Old  English  representative 
of  modern  ail  (mote,  beard  on  wheat),  Hall, 
in  the  way  characteristic  of  him,  has  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  three  entries  ;  namely  (i) 
'egl,  sf.,mote,  beard  on  wheat, '(2)  'egle,  sf., dor- 
mouse, (3)  'elgunt1  dp.  of  sb.  'aristis,'  WW.  532, 

ia  Quellen  und Forschungen,  etc.,  p.  359,  ii. 


162 


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326 


27.  From  Bosworth  (probably)  he  took  the 
right  rendering  'beard  on  wheat,'  from  Sweet's 
Oldest  English  Texts  the  wrong  one  '  dor- 
mouse,' and  from  Wright-Wiilker  the  Latin 
'  aristis '  which  he  did  not  care  or  dare  to 
translate.  Sweet,  of  course,  was  misled  by 
the  fact  that  in  our  Latin  dictionaries  there  is 
only  a  ' glis,  gliris  =  dormouse  '  on  record. 
But  the  Latin  Glossaries  know  also  of  a  glis, 
glitiss  (=glus,  glutis  ?)  and  that  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  glossators  had  reference  only  to  that 
word  Hall  might  easily  have  established,  if 
he  had  taken  the  trouble  to  compare  the 
passages  quoted  by  Sweet,  OET.,  p.  524b, 
under  egel,  egla,  eglan,  fglum,  elgum. 

Then  he  would  surely  not  have  committed 
that  ridiculous  blunder  either  of  making  out 
of  the  corrupted  Latin  fonfyr(=furfur,tbra.n>), 
occurring  WW.  413,  12,  an  Anglo-Saxon  '  fon- 
fyr  sb.  dormouse.'6  In  what  careless,  nay 
frivolously  reckless  way,  Hall  has  gathered  his 
words  may  be  seen  from  the  following  two 
entries:  (i)  ' cembern  sb.  bothonia,  boedro- 
mia?'  WW.  195,  20  [ymbryne?],  and  (2) 
'  embren  sn.  bucket,  pail '  ES.  viii,  154  [Germ. 
Eimer].  Both  entries  refer  to  the  same  gloss, 
namely,  WW.  195,  20,  the  only  difference  be- 
tween the  two  numbers  being,  that  (i)  repeats 
Wiilker's  bad  conjecture,  while  (2)  gives  the 
correct  explanation  as  pointed  out  by  Sievers 
(ES.  viii,  154)  when  criticizing  Wiilker's  guess 
at  the  meaning  of  the  word.  The  only  in- 
ference to  be  drawn  from  such  a  proceeding 
as  that  is  that  Hall  was  fully  aware  of  the 
precariousness  of  his  first  entry,  but  did  not 
care  to  miss  an  opportunity  of  adding  to  his 
stock  of  words  when  he  could  do  so  on  the 
apparent  authority  of  an  Anglo-Saxon  scholar 
like  Wiilker.  This  inference  is  borne  out  by 
further  facts  I  shall  submit.  By  the  side  of 
the  right  entry  :  fcesten,  sn.,  '  fastness  fortified 
place,  castle,  etc.,'  we  find  the  nonsensical: 
wefczsten*  sn.,  'citadel,'  on  the  strength  of 
WW.  515,  39:  quasi  arx  swa  wef&sten,  al- 

5  Cf.  WW.   118,  37  Loewe,  Coniect.  ad  Gloss.   Lat.,p. 

130. 

6  Very  likely  also  a  third  Anglo-Saxon  word  quoted  by 
Hall  from  WW.  119,  5=310,  29  as  equivalent  for  'dormouse,' 
namely,  sistntus  represents  by  its  first  part  the  translation 
for glis ,  flitis,  sise  being  mistake  for  si/eh*  (cf.  WW.  549,  i. 
a),  and  by  its  second  part,  tints,  the  translation  for  glis, 
gliris. 


though  Sievers  had  drawn  his  attention  to  the 
fact  that  this  is  a  blunder  for  swaswe  fasten. 
Side  by  side  with  the  only  authentic  entry: 
helpendrap,  sm.,  'opifera'  (WW.  463,  35), 
meaning  'steadying  line,'?  we  meet  with  an 
entry  helpend-bcsr,  a  word  for  which  there  is 
no  documentary  evidence,  but  which  is  only 
a  bad  conjecture  of  Wiilker  for  helpendrap 
which  he  did  not  understand,  as  pointed  out 
by  Sievers.  By  the  side  of:  asswica,  wm., 
'  offender,  deceiver,  hypocrite,  traitor,  deser- 
ter,' which  is  based  on  WW.  219,  35  and  pro- 
nounced all  right  by  Sievers,  there  is  entered 
an:  tzscwiga,  'spear-warrior,'  drawn  from  Wiil- 
ker's  ill-advised  attempt  at  altering  the  proper 
word  fsswica. 

Just  so  the  very  same  gloss  (WW.  41,  8)  pro- 
bun  ferht  furnishes  him  on  the  one  hand  an 
adjective  fehrt  'honest, 'and  on  the  other 
hand  a  nounfehrt*=fyrhtu,  that  is  to  say,  for 
the  first  entry  he  relied  on  Sweet's  OET.,  who 
explained  the  word  correctly  enough;  for  the 
second,  however,  although  warned  by  Sievers, 
he  drew  on  Wiilker's  conjecture,  saying  that 
probus  is  mistake  for  phobus=q>ofto<->.  This 
smuggling  in  of  such  a  questionable  word  as 
ferht  tovfyrthu  is  the  more  reprehensible  as 
Hall  does  not  cite  his  authority  for  it,  just  as  he 
failed  to  do  in  a  good  many  other  cases.  Ferht 
is  of  course  an  adjective  derived  by  means  of 
the  suffix  -eht  (='  having  ')  from  the  noun  ferh 
(='  life  '),  and  is  certainly  a  good  rendering  for 
probus.  Hall  could  not  have  failed  to  gather 
from  Sievers'  remarks  on  WW.  32,  28,  how 
silly  it  was  of  Wiilker  to  repeat  Bosworth's 
ridiculous  guess  at  the  meaning  of  hearma, 
but,  intent  as  he  was  on  increasing  his  stock  of 
words,  he  was  well  satisfied  with  being  sup- 
plied by  Sweet  with  a  hearma  meaning  'shrew- 
mouse,  ermine,'  and  by  Wiilker  with  a  hearma 
meaning  'a  sling  for  supporting  a  wounded 
arm  ' ;  hearma  of  course  is  related  to  German 
Hermel,  and  is  a  sort  of  weasel  or  stoat,  as  is 
evident  from  WW.  34,  7 :  netila  (—nitela) 
hearma. 

This  desire  to  swell  at  any  cost  his  word- 
list  really  seems  to  have  blinded  Hall's  judg- 
ment. Or  is  there  any  other  construction  to  be 

7  Cf.  WW.  182,  29  and  288,  37, 

8  However,  it  is  just  possible  that  he  refers  to  WW.  77,  5, 
pauor/trht,  although  he  does  not  cite  any  authority. 


163 


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328 


put  upon  his  entering  by  the  side  of  the  right 
forms  such  evident  blunders  as  :  nepe,  'fierce' 
for  repe,  or  wczgel,  'gill,  quarter  of  a  pint, 
small  vessel,'  for  pczgel,  especially  when  we 
consider  that  he  did  so  after  having  read 
Sievers'  remarks  on  the  respective  passages, 
WW.  479,  33  and  124,  2  ?  Why  did  he  enter : 
wceterrap,  '  cable '  from  WW.  535,  4,  when 
from  his  previous  entry:  wczderap,  'cable,' 
taken  from  WW.  515,  15  and  referring  to  the 
same  Latin  word  rudens, he  could  not  but  have 
learned  that  wcederap  is  the  only  correct  form 
(cf.  WW.  5,  44 :  antemne  w&de  ?  What  does 
he  mean  by  entering  from  Haupfs  Zeitschrift 
the  unexplained  and  corrupt  form  duphaman 
'  malleoli,' when  a  comparison  with  the  later 
entry  dyp-homar-homer  must  have  told  him 
that  dtiphaman  is  simply  misreading  or  blun- 
der for  duphamar,  and  then  a  glance  in  his 
Latin  dictionary  and  at  WW.  492,  40  malleoli 
tyndercyn  idest  dyphomer  would  have  sug- 
gested '  saplings  (such  as  are  cut  for)  kindling 
wood,'  as  proper  rendering  for  duphamar, 
dyphomar,  dyphomers 

Hall  thoroughly  understands  the  art  of  get- 
ting much  out  of  little ;  so  the  one  gloss  deuia 
callus  (h)orweg  stig  (WW.  17, 16  ;  384,  40 ;  220, 
36)  has  given  him  occasion  for  three  entries  : 
(i)  horiveg,  aj.,  'muddy';  (2)  horuweg,  sm., 
'  dirty  road  ' ;  (3)  orwegstig,  sf.,  '  out-of-the- 
way-track."  (i)  to  be  sure,  is  to  be  put  on 
Sweet's  account  (cf.  OET.,  p.  5763);  but  if 
Hall  had  looked  into  the  matter,  he  would 
have  found  out  from  220,36  that  devia  is  orweg, 
that  is,  '  trackless '  and  callus  (=^callis),  stiff, 
that  is,  'path,  road.'  As  in  this  instance  the 
wrongly  aspirated  form  of  the  word  has  played 
him  a  trick,  so  in  several  others.  WW.  385,  3 
we  read  descurris  hofdelum  ;  as  he  could  not 
make  anything  of  it,  but  still  wished  to  use  it 
as  material  for  his  book,  he  bodily  transferred 
it  there.  To  understand  the  gloss,  we  have 
simply  to  properly  divide  it :  de  scurris,  and 
then  it  becomes  plain  that  hof  must  stand  for 
of,  and  fielum  Is—dylum  ;  cf.  458,  15  orator es 
ftylces,  whence  he  got  his  entry:  dyle,  sm., 

9  But  is  <i»p-,  ^Vp-,  th«  right  form  of  the  first  part  of  the 
word  ?  When  I  compare  such  compounds  as  ftyfe-porn  WW. 
149,  39,  risc-hyfel  289,  3  and  the  diminutive  pyftl  137,  26; 
139,  19.24;  244,20.22;  324,38  and  the  verb  40!,  2  frutescit 
huf*h  492,  29  luxoria.ntefa.tste  ge puf,  I  cannot  help  think- 
ing that  we  ought  to  read  ftufhatiiinar,  ftyftioniar,  ftyfhomer 
"  a  sapling  of  luxuriant  growth,'  as  is  the  malltolus. 


'  spokesman,  speaker,  orator,'  and  as  he  might 
have  added  from  385,  3,  'funmaker,  humorist.' 
Also  bodily  transferred  is  the  gloss  repagulum 
salpanra  WW.  106,  7,  and  yet  Sievers  had  al- 
ready pointed  out  that  we  have  to  read  sal 
punda,  that  is,  '  the  pound-bar,  inclosure-bar, 
fence-rail ' ;  cf.  43,  26  repagula  sale,  referring 
to  which  gloss  Sweet  (OET.,  p.  5873)  wrongly 
explains  sal  as  '  bond  ' ;  it  is  rather  '  a  bar, 
pole,  rail,  stick '  ;  in  fact  it  is  the  contracted 
form  of  sagol,  glossed  fustis  332,  30,  or  sagul, 
glossed  paxillus  (for  that  is  the  true  reading)  * 
126,  18.  It  is  also  met  with  in  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  (c.  1000)  translation  of  the  Gospels, 
Matt.  26,  47 :  sahlum  fustibus,  and  Marc.  14, 
43 :  sahlum  lignis. 

Intent  as  Hall  was  on  new  words,  he  has 
been  repeatedly  taken  in  by  Wiilker.  So  in 
WW.  460,  4  the  latter  did  not  see  that  the 
glossator  explained  oretz,  the  archaic  Latin 
word  for  'bridle,'  by  the  more  modern  one 
frena,  nor  did  he  know  Latin  enough  to  recog- 
nize in  the  numine  leso  456,  27  the  Latin  nu- 
mine  Iczso.  Consequently  we  have  the  two 
fine  entries:  frcene  'oreae'  and  leso,  sf., 
'numen.'  Likewise  in  403,  21,  Wiilker  failed 
to  understand  that  fiscalis  rtzde  is  Latin^=/?5- 
calis  rhedce,  which  is  explained  gafellicum 
wcenfare  (as  he  ought  to  have  known  from  22, 
17)  and  so  Hall  entered,  however,  without 
citing  his  authority  :  r&degafol,  sn.,  'rent  paid 
in  one  payment  (in  money  or  kind);'  that  is  to 
say,  from  a  mere  blunder  of  Wiilker  he  coined 
a  new  word  to  enrich  his  dictionary.  Just  so 
357,  32,  Wiilker  had  not  been  aware  of  the 
fact  that  two  glosses  had  been  crowded  on 
one  line;  namely,  bapys  treuteru,  and  ban 
segn,  although  8,  30  ban  segn,  and  8,  31  bapis 
treuteru,  ought  to  have  led  him  to^a  proper 
understanding  of  the  situation.  From  357,  32, 
his  great  authority  Bosworth-Lye  had  guessed 
that  treuteru  (='  tree-tar ')  must  signify  '  a 
sort  of  standard,'  and  this  he  imparts  to  his 
readers  in  the  note  to  8,  31.  Now,  that  Hall 
did  not  fall  into  the  trap,  he  simply  owes  to 
Sweet's  correctly  explaining  treuteru,  but 
from  357,  32  he  gets  the  entry  bansegn,  sm., 
'interest  on  money,  money  lent  on  interest,' 
which  is  taken  from  515,  i  fenus  hiereborg. 
It  is  evident  from  237,  37  that  we  have  to 
divide  hiere  borg;  as  to  hiere,  it  is  likely  it 


164 


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330 


stands  for  hi  era ;  cf.  440,  n;  442,  4;  508,  i. 
WVV.  130,  15  we  meet  with  that  monster  of  a 
word  geldhealhalgung,  explaining  Latin  'cer- 
emonia  uel  orgia.'  Hall,  not  understanding 
it,  bodily  transferred  it.  But  a  look  at  107,  22 
ought  to  have  resolved  him  the  riddle  into  the 
three  words  geld,  (h)eal  halgung,  that  is, 
'  guild  (cf.  the  broad  meaning  of  Danish 
1  Gilde,')  every  sort  of  hallowing— feast,  every 
sort  of  festal  day  '  (cf.  519,  17,  etc.). 

It  did  not  occur  to  Hall  to  glance  at  471,  18: 
per  cola  purh  sticceo,  before  he  entered:  purh- 
sticcian,  wv.,  'to  strain  through,  filtrate,  per- 
colate,' from  487,  16;  or  to  remember  that 
there  is  such  a  word  as:  tczlg,  'dye,'  before 
he  transferred  from  513,  2  the  blunder  :  'gecel- 
ged,  colored,'  into  his  book  ;  or  that  telg  and 
deag  are  two  separate  words  meaning  the 
same  thing  ;«>  or  to  learn  from  375,  10  :  'dent 
hrepad,'1  that  his  entry  hrewaJ,  taken  from 
533,  2,  is  a  blunder  for :  '  Jirefiad=they  call.' 

Very  interesting  is  it  to  trace  the  way  he 
came  by  the  following  entries  : 

(1)  '  bltfcfirust,  sm.,   tetter,   scab,   leprosy 
(blczc,  (trust)'', 

(2)  '  drut,  sb.,  eruption,  leprosy  ' ; 

(3)  '  Srustfel,  sn.,  eruption,  leprosy.' 
These  three  entries  refer  to  one  gloss  9,  6 : 
bitiligo  blcecthrustfel.    Sweet11  made  of  that : 
' prust-fell,  sn.,  leprosy,'  and  -that  accounts 
for  (3),  Wiilker  divided  it  into  an  OE.  blcec- 
thrust  and  a  Latin  fel,  and  that  accounts  for 
(i);   (2)  is  of  Hall's  own  making,  gotten  up 
from  a  faint  remembrance  of  the  second  com- 
ponent of  (i).    To  arrive  at  a  satisfactory  un- 
derstanding of  the  gloss  in  question,  we  must 
go  a  little  deeper  into  the  matter  than   Hall 
has  done.     In  the  Epinal- Erfurt  Glossaries™ 
the    gloss    is    found    in    this    form :    bitiligo 
blecthrust  fel;    in    the    Corpus     Glossary** 
B.   103,    thus:    bitiligo  blcecthrust,  fel;    the 
concurrence  of  manuscript  evidence  is  then 
decidedly  in    favor    of  separating  fel  from 
blcecthrust;  the  Latin  word  occurs  again  under 
the    letter    U    in    the    Ep.    -Erf.     G7.M    as : 
nitilago  (uitiligo)  blectha,  and  in  the    Corp. 

10  WW.  512,  30. 

11  GET.,  p.  52oa. 

12  Corp.  Gl.  Lat.  v,  347,  31. 

13  Ed.  Hessels. 

14  Corp.  Gl.  Lat.  v,  399,  14. 


Gl.,  U.  168:  uitiginem  (=uitiliginem}  bled; 
U.  180,  uitiligo  blectha.  What  is  meant  by 
uitiligo,  becomes  clear  from  Corp.  Gloss. 
Lat.  iv,  193,  40 :  uitiligo  macula  alba  carport 
alfon  greci  et  proram  (—psoram=ipoopay) 
uocant;^  blectha  is  then  an  exact  rendering 
of  nitiligo=dX(p6s.  We  meet  with  this  uiti- 
ginem (—uitilignem)  again  in  Steinmeyer- 
Sievers,  Althochd.  Gloss.,  ii.  356,  5,  where  it 
is  glossed  bfeci,  and  as  the  reference  there  is 
to  Orosius,  i,  8:  '  Sed  ^Egyptii  cum  scabiem 

et  vitiliginem  paterentur ;  it  is  very 

likely  that  the  above-quoted  glosses  owe  their 
origin  to  the  same  author.  Orosius  speaks 
there  of  the  plague  God  sent  down  on  the 
Egyptians  and  their  cattle  at  the  instance  of 
Moses.'6  Under  these  circumstances  I  think 
it  probable  that  blecthrust  (bl<zcthrust}  is  mis- 
reading or  blunder  for :  blec-  (bltec)  thrusc= 
'the  white  thrush,  scourge  (plague).'  In 
thrusc  (druse)  I  see  a  verbal  noun  of:  prescan, 
'.to  scourge;'1/  the  Anglo-Saxon  name  for 
this  leprosy  would  then  exactly  coincide  with 
the  Hebrew  word  for  it,  which  means :  '  the 
stroke,'  '  the  stroke  of  the  scourge.'^  As  to 
fel,*9  that  may  be  the  remnant  of  another 
gloss  :  bilis  (uilis)  fel.'10  Let  us  now  look  at 
the  entries : 

15  Corp.  Gl.  Lat.  ii,  210,  2:  vituligo  dX<po$  aXGOItn- 
KE(X.      A.-S.  4/«/=-OHG .  pleicki. 

16  Cf.  Exod.,  9,  9. 

17  Cf.  pearsca  caedere,  concidere,  Lindisfarne  Gospels, 
Marc.,  5,  5;  12,5;  Luc. ,22,63. 

1 8  Cf.  The  Imperial  Bible  Dictionary,  s.  v.  leprosy. 

•  19  I  am  well  aware  of  the  attempt  that  has  been  made  to 
establish  an  OE.  prust-fell  on  the  basis  of  Goth.  #T  uts-fill 
but  manuscript  evidence  seems  to  be  against  it. 

20  Cf.  WW.  9,  ^Corp.  Gl.,  B.  108:  bile  atr ,  B.  172: 
bilcm  aiiiarum ;  U.  195 ;  uilis  pestis.  On  the  strength  of 
such  a  gloss  as  that  one  might  conjecture  that  fel  is  misread- 
ing for  iuael=pestis.  King  ./Elfred  uses  this  word  when  re- 
ferring to  the  scubiem  et  uitiligincm  of  Orosius  :  For  paem 
•wale  he  on  paet  land  becom,  se  sctp  waes  secgende  paet 
Egypt!  ndrifen  Moyses  tit  mid  his  leodum.  Orosius  has  : 
Sed  SEgypti  cum  scabiem  et  vitiliginem  paterentur,  eum 
cum  aegris,  ne pestis  nd  plures  serperet,  terminis  AZgypti 
pellunt.  The  form  ivael  occurs  in  Beda,  289  (s.  Sweet  OET., 
4733):  et  cladis  on  -waele.  Concerning  the  confusion  of/ 
and  w,  cf.  WW.  480,  i :  intpetu  i»aert=faere ;  254,  36:  prae- 
cipilata,  bescegwene*=besctofene;  523,  38:  uoluentibuifealden 
dum=iuealtendiim ;  495,  20:  occa  wealh—fealh ;  121,  17: 
scarabcus  scearnfifel=scearnivifel ;  458,  7;  occa  fur h, 
fylgiitf,  walk  =/.  f.  fal/t . 


165 


331 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


332 


(1)  '  halstdn,  sm.,  crystal  (EG).' 

(2)  '  healstdn,  sm.,  small   cake  (WW.  364, 
36;  372,  i?;  495.  28).' 

(3)  '  helsta,  wn?,  crust  (WW.  216,  5).' 

(4)  '-hylsten,  aj.,  twisted  (WW.  393,  31).' 

It  would  not  seem  possible  that  every  one 
of  these  words  refers  to  exactly  the  same 
thing,  and  yet  it  is  so,  as  Hall  might  have 
easily  found  out,  if  instead  of  mechanically 
copying  from  his  different  sources,  he  had 
examined  the  words  before  entering  them. 
He  would  then  have  seen  that  Sweet's  ex- 
planation '  crystal '  for  (i)  was  based  on  a 
misunderstanding  of  the  form  crustulla,  on 
record  in  the  Erfurt  GL,"  just  as  if  it  repre- 
sented a  Greek  xpvdraA.Xa,  but  a  look  into 
the  Corp.  Gl.  (=WW.  16,  10),  where  the 
identical  gloss  occurs  in  the  form  crustula 
similis  (=similaginis)  haalstan,  ought  to  have 
convinced  anybody  knowing  Latin  that  the 
reference  is  to  a  sort  of  cake.  Very  likely  the 
gloss  is  taken  from  Exod.  29,  23,  where  the 
Vulgate  reads :  tortamque  panis  unius,  crus- 
tulam  conspersam  olco,  laganum  de  canistro 
azymorum.*lb  Having  settled  that.it  would  not 
have  been  difficult  to  see  that  WW.  216,  5 
crustula  helsta  uel  rinde  stands  for  crustula 
helsta—helstan  u.  r.,  and  that  helstan  is  only  a 
variation  of  what  we  read  WW.  16,  10,  haal- 
staan.  With  that  same  word  he  would  then 
also  have  identified  WW.  364,  36,  colliridam 
healstan,  and  he  would  also  have  noticed  that 
•hylstene  occurring  393,  31,  et  tor  tarn  panis  and 
hylstene  hlafas,  must  be  related  to  the  same 
word  and  must  mean  'cake,  bread.'  How- 
ever, while  it  is  plain  enough  what  is  meant  by 
haalstaan,  the  etymology  of  the  word  is  not 
so  clear.  Apparently  the  first  component 
represents  the  wellknown  hdl=* whole,  sound,' 
and  the  second  is  stan—1  stone,'  and  the  idea 
suggested  by  such  a  compound  may  have 
been  one  of  the  reasons  why  Sweet  explained 
it  as  meaning  'crystal,'  for,  I  dare  say,  he 

ai  GET.,  Erf.,  288. 

2ib  In  TElfric's  rendering  of  this  passage;  and  anne  holne 
half  mid  ele  gesfring  ende  and  anne  gebigedne  half  of  para 
heorfra.  halfa  ivindle,  there  seems  to  be  some  confusion, 
holne  is  evidently=A5/«*  and  renders  tortam=tostam,  while 
gebegidni  seems  to  render  the  same  word  as  pp.  tarquere, 
The  passage  should  then  read:  and  anne  holne  hl*f  oftfte 
anne  gebigedne  half  mid  tie  gesprengende  and  .  ...  of 
hara  peorfra  klafa  ivindle. 


remembered  that  medicinal  properties  were 
ascribed  to  precious  stones.  But  it  seems  to 
me,  it  would  be  hard  to  bridge  over  the 
gulf  between  the  meaning  '  whole-stone  '  and 
'cake.'  I  think  I  am  justified  in  identifying 
haal-  with  aal-,  which  we  have  in  aal-gewcrc, 
'tinder'  WW.  26,  5,  aal-fatu,  'firepots,'  'cook- 
ing vessels  '  212,  24,  '  al-daht  $)'*  earthen  pot 
suitable  to  put  on  the  fire  for  cooking.'  WW. 
5,  5.  Then  we  have  an  easy  transition  of 
meaning,  namely,  haal-staan  (i)  petra  focaria 
='  hearth-stone,'  (2)  panis  focarius  'the  bread- 
cake  baked  on  the  hearth  stone  '=Italian 
focaccia=Spanish  hogaza=  French  fouasse= 
OHG.  foc/ianza=MHG.  fagatze,  fochenze,= 
Mod.  Bavarians  fogetze.  Then  hylstenez$>= 
hylstene  hlafas  is  the  same  thing  that  elsewhere 
(WW.  1  53,  ..36)  is  called  heart!  bacene  hlafas, 
and  tortam  is  not  participle  of  torquere,  but 
of  torrere,  that  is  to  say  it  stands  for  tostam. 
Concerning  the  form  haal  (for  aal),  I  am  in- 
clined to  think  that  there  the  original  aspirate 
has  been  preserved,  and  I  would  connect  the 
word  with  Latin  cal-or  cal-ere.  That  the 
number  of  forms  lacking  the  true  aspirate,  is 
prevalent  as  against  those  exhibiting  it  in  the 
same  text,  need  not  make  us  wonder,  con- 
sidering the  uncertainty  that  very  early  ap- 
pears in  (OHG.  as  well  as)  Old-English 
documents  in  regard  to  what  words  were  to 
be  aspirated  and  what  not.  Here  I  should 
like  to  establish  the  fact  that  the  '  ell  '  of  old 
New-England  houses  is  really  a  'hell,'  that  is 
to  say,  a  '  fire  place  '=Latin  colina  (culina), 
but  that  would  carry  me  too  far  away  from  my 
present  purpose;  I  must  return  to  Hall's 
dictionary.  I  have  already  cited  several  in- 
stances of  puzzling  glosses  being  bodily  trans- 
ferred, just  to  fill  the  book.  Here  is  anpther  : 
tetridit^  desicit  '  GET.,  p.  654.  Now  Sweet, 
OET.,  p.  5163,  had  really  tried  to  make  the 

22  For  al-ftaht,  -Qoht  from  ffoh—  clay?  cf.  OHG.  diiha  --- 
(i)  clay,  (2)  earthen  pot  .  Also  polle  —  sartago  (Mone  415,23), 
fyr-fiolle  —  clibanum  (Mone  415,  23),  seems  to  belong  here. 
Nay,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  al-ftaht  (alftoht)  might  read 


23  =Lagana,  Ahd.  Gl.,  \,  336,  56,  =simila£inem,  1,697,  3*. 

23b  hil-hama  —  cicada  WW.  131,  y,^-hylleshama  378,  7 
belongs  here,  being  a  counterpart  of  modern  '  cricket-on-the- 
hearth,'  as  indeed  crickets  are  '  little  animals  found  in 
Bakers'  Ovens.' 


166 


333 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


334 


meaning  of  the  gloss  plain  to  him,  but  some- 
how he  seems  to  have  failed.  What  he  says 
is:  '  te-tridit,  prs.,  tramples,  Ef.  344:  tedrid- 
tid  (defecit),  cp.  desicit.  It  is  evident  that  we 
have  to  start  from  the  reading  of  the  Erfurt 
Gloss.  (=Corp.  Gloss.  Lat.,  v.  356,  53)  defecit 
tedridtid  ;  the  reading  of  the  Corpus  GL, 
desicit,  is  simply  due  to  one  of  those  common 
confusions  of  the  letters  f  and  s.  Now,  if  we 
remember  the  phrase  tempus  (me)  deficit,  we 
shall  not  hesitate  to  say  that  tedridtid— tedrid- 
tid must  stand  for  teorift  tid,  this  d  looking  so 
like  an  o,24  is  the  same  that  487,  16  tripped  up 
Wiilker  and  his  docile  scholar  Hall.  I  hardly 
need  mention  that  tempus  corresponding  to 
tid,  has  been  inadvertently  left  out  by  the 
copyist.  From  WW.  136,  27,  Hall  enters  a 
tegung,  sf.,  'tincture'  =deagung,  but  is  that 
not  rather  an  error  for  telgungl  (cf.  277,  35; 
517,  20,  where  the  word  is  correctly  exhibited). 
Sweet  is  Hall's  authority  for  telling  us  that  by 
the  side  of  t&fl  (tefel,  tefil)  there  is  such  an 
Old-English  word  as  tasol,  tasul  fora  'die.' 
If  he  had  inquired  into  the  matter  and  re- 
membered Wiilker 's  note  to  WW.  526,  5,  he 
would  have  seen  that  tasol,  tasul  is  misread- 
ing for  /fl/b/and  taful  corresponding  to  OHG. 
zabul.  That  there  is  no  such  word  as  sytle- 
w&ga  for  'weight,  balance,'  but  that  this  is  a 
blunder  for  lytlezv&ga— 'small  scales,'  Sievers 
had  already  pointed  out,  and  from  Hessels ' 
edition  of  the  Corp.  Glossary  he  might  have 
learned  that  Sweet's  gerinen,  ptc.,  'diligent' 
is  Latin  gerinen  (Corp.  GL,  Int.  229=Sweet 
OET.  cp.  24) ;  and  from  the  same  source  that 
Sweet's  here-searu  '  war-stratagem,' is  Latin 
heresearum=aipe6£Gov  (Hessels'  Corp.  '67., 
Y.  6=WW.  54,  39).  Nor  is  there  any  Anglo- 
Saxon  rcegerose,  meaning  'spinal  muscles." 
The  word  is  simply  an  invention  of  Sweet, 
made  up  from  what  he  found  in  Erf 3.  1181 
(=Glossce  Nominum,  ed.  G.  Lowe,  p.  58.,  No. 
977),  inguen  lesca  hregresi.  The  Latin  word 
shows  plainly  that  the  word  must  refer  to  the 
genital  parts,  and  in  fact  we  have  to  read 
Jieg-prest—OHG.  hegadrosi  (cf.  A/id.  Gl.,  ed. 

24  Accordingly  we  have  Corp.  Gloss.  Lat.,  v.  382,  50 
pauD pauua  in  the  Erfurt  Glossary,  while  the  Epinal  cor- 
rectly exhib:ts/«w0;  Corp.  Gl.  Lat.,  v.  396,  20  the  Epinal 
has  incorrectly  testudo  borOhaca,  while  the  Erfurt  exhibits 
the  more  correct  b»rDtha,ca. 


Steinmeyer-Sievers,  ii.  228,  49)— -Mod.  German 
Hagedriise=Leistendriise,  '  inguinal  gland,' 
Lcistengegend,  'inguinal  region;'  lesca,  which 
Sweet  considered  to  be  Latin, 25  is  identical 
with  the  leosca  'groin'  (Hall  took  from  Kluge's 
Etym.  Worterb.  d.  deutsch.  Spr.)= ME.  leske 
=OSw.  ljuske=Da.n.  lyske  and  is  the  ground, 
word  of  the  verb  be-lisnian  (=be-liscnian),  be- 
listnian,  '  to  emasculate,  castrate,'  which  he 
took  from  WW.  106,  31 ;  the  word  occurs  also 
in  the  Anglo-Saxon  Translation  of  the  Gos- 
pels, Matt.  19,  12 :  belistnode  eunuchizati. 
Just  as  imaginary  as  the  above-quoted  word 
for  'spinal  muscles,'  is  the  entry  neweseofia, 
wm.,  'pit  of  stomach.'  The  passages  on 
which  Sweet,  OET.,  p.  6193,  based  his  new 
coinage  are  Epinal  Gl.,  505  (=  Corp.  Gl.  Lat., 
v-  365,  43)  ilium  neuu  seada=Erf.  ncensida, 
Erfz.  1180:  ilium  neisn  ncensood  (=Gloss. 
Nom.,  p.  52,  No.  852).  Comparing  such 
glosses  as  WW.  26,  6:  ilia  midhridir,  motion 
weard  hype;  159,  36:  ilium  scare;  159,  37: 
ilia  smcele  pearmas ;  427,  28:  ilium  rysle;  419, 
9:  ilibtis  smtel  pearmum;  517,  14:  iliainnepas 
with  Hessels'  Corp.  GL,  E.  439:  exta  tesen*6 
(=VVW.  20,  24,  where  Wiilker  wrongly  ex- 
hibits leseti};  WW.  521,  33:  exta  iesendne, 

25  Sure  enough,    there    is    a    Greek-Latin    word    ischion 
(=5/<JjfZ01')I  the  plural  form  of  which  ischia,  written  iscia 
(cf.    Corpus    Glossariorum   Lat.,   Hi,   409,  61,  lumbi  iscia) 
might  be  hidden  in  ii,  333,  39  Kj^fiov  dossum  luinba.  lesca 
(— t  esca,  t  iscia),  but  this  conjecture  seems  superfluous  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  ME.  has  leskf** '  groin,'  and  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  translation  of  the  Gospels  records  a  verb  clearly  point, 
ing  to  a  noun  lisca.     Perhaps  we  have  to  do  with  this  iscia 
iGXi'it  in  the  puzzling  gloss  on  record  in  the  Epinal-Erfurt 
Glossaries  (Corp.  Gl.  Lat..  v,  367,  27)  isca  tyndirm-tyndrin; 
as    the    gloss  following  is  ifn(i)ariunt  algiuuearc-algiuerc, 
it  seems   likely    that    tyndirm   belongs    as    a    synonym    to 
algiuucorc  ('tinder,  kindling  wood')  and  has  crowded  out  the 
proper  interpretation   of  isca^iscia,  namely    lesca,    which 
could   the   more   easily   drop   out,   as  a   very  similar    gloss 
preceded;  namely  isic  =  (l'(j(jQ  leax-lex  'salmon.'     As  to  the 
form  tyndirm  on  record  here,  Sweet  OET.,  p.  5703,  does  not 
take  any  cognizance  of  it,  but  it  is  the  same  formation  as 
•waestm  (—waestma)  from  waest,  or  aecilma  from  aecil  (egl). 

26  Here  belongs  also,  I  believe,  the  iesnt  lftea=strvus  of 
Prolog.    Matlh.   North.   Gosp.    Matth.,   19,  22:    fte  esne=* 
adolescens   (hence   correct   WW.    77,  40:  adolescens  iungis 
into  iunf$s^iung  esn),  and  esnecund  condtctiorius  for  ex- 
ample, conductionarius,  WW.   212,  401.     Hall  did  not  un- 
derstand it,  and  so  bodily  transferred  it;  it  means,  of  course, 

f  thing  ) 

'a  \  man  /belonging  to  (or  dealing  with)  the  class  of  (hired) 
servants  '  (cf.  also  innhearditwnn  '  miles,' Matth.  g.  9.  Lin- 
disf.  Gosp.). 


l67 


335 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


336 


isend;  396,  22  extis  iesende  od"de  inelfe; 
Lorica  Gloss.,  71  (=Sweet,  p.  172):  intestinis 
isernum=isennum  and  Ahd.  Gloss,  ii.  374.  37: 
rien,  testiculus  niero,  I  think,  we  shall  be 
justified  in  supposing  that  neisn  stand  for  ne- 
isn=ner-isn,  that  is  to  say,  ne  (=nen  for  ner) 
was  copied  from  a  manuscript  where  n  and  r 
were  nearly  alike  in  form,  just  as  nczn-sood 
stands  for  ncer-sood  and  nenu  seada  for  neru- 
seada ;  sood  I  consider  to  be  a  by-form  of 
s&d  '  laqueus*!  extale.'  The  meaning  of 
ilium  ner-isn  nczr-sood,  neru-seada  is  then 
'  the  reins.' 

OTTO  B.  SCHLUTTER. 
Hartford  High  School. 


NO  CH—ITS  ENGLISHEQ  UIVALEN  TS 

AND  THE  RELATIVE  FREQUENCY 

OF  THEIR  OCCURRENCE. 

IN  preparing  a  vocabulary  of  the  most  com- 
mon words  in  simple  German,  I  have  had 
occasion  to  give  some  special  attention  to  the 
particle  noc h.  It  occurs  about  840  times  in  the 
following  seven  Readers  :  Brandt's,  Bronson's 
(German  Prose  and  Poetry,  both  parts),  Buch- 
heim's  (both  parts),  Fasnacht's  (first  year), 
Harris',  Joynes-Meissner's,  and  Whitney's 
(Introductory).  Of  these  840  cases,  only  about 
50  belong  to  verse,  the  rest  to  prose.  Noch 
as  a  temporal  adverb  occurs  about  530  times  ; 
as  an  adverb  of  degree,  measure,  etc.,  310 
times.  But  it  is  often  difficult  to  distinguish 
these  two  categories  clearly.  In  the  latter 
I  have  also  included  24  cases  of  noc  h  meaning 
'  nor,'  which  is  in  reality  a  different  etymon. 

I  have  put  the  840  cases  into  four  general 
groups  and  numbered  the  subdivisions  con- 
secutively from  i  to  37.  Groups  A,  B  and 
C  contain  the  530  cases  of  noch  as  an  adverb 
of  time  ;  Group  D,  all  others.  Group  A  com- 
prises about  300  cases  of  noch  as  referring  to 
the  present  and  to  the  past,  the  majority  179 
uninfluenced  by  other  adverbs ;  Group  B, 
about  loo  cases  of  noch-\-&  negative,  its  most 
common  modifier:  and  Group  C,  about  130 
cases  of  noch  as  pointing  forward  to  the  future, 
relative  or  absolute.  This  classification  is 
neither  strictly  logical,  nor  historical;  it  merely 

27  Cf.  Corp.  Gl.  Lat.  it.  66,  47:  txtalis 
that  is,  testiculus. 


aims  at  some  practical  results  for  purposes  of 
translation. 

GROUP    A. 

Whether  noch  in  this  group  shall  be  ren- 
dered by  'still  'or  by  'yet,'  may  often  be  left  to 
individual  choice.  In  general,  however,  it 
seems  safe  to  say  that  '  still '  is  more  in  har- 
mony with  present  Eng.  usage.  [Consult  on 
this  point  a  Shakespere  Concordance  and 
Schmidt's  Shakespere  Lexicon  and  notice 
that  '  still  '  was  then  often='  constantly ' ;  also: 
Young's  Bible  Concordance,  where  the  use  of 
'  yet '  predominates  and  '  still '  is  registered 
only  about  half  a  dozen  times.] 

i.  Noch  with  present  and  perfect  tenses 
— 96  times :  (a)  die  Suppe  ist  noch  etwas 
heiss,  '  still ' ;  (b)  ich  sehe  sie  noch  alle  deut- 
lich  vor  mir,  als  wenn  es  erst  heute  geschehen 
ware,  'still,'  but  cf.  the  use  of  'yet'  in  Cent. 
Diet.  s. v.  yet  i,  3 ;  (c)  "  wollt  ihr  das  ?  "  "  wie 
konnt  ihr  noch  fragen?"  (Brandt,  24.  14),  'is 
that  still  a  question  ?  '  (d)  wer  es  am  meisten 
notig  hat,  das  ware  noch  eine  grosse  Frage,  lit. 
'would  still  be  a  great  question,'  say:  'is 
at  least  very  doubtful,'  cf.  noch=?  at  least,' 
D.  37 ;  (e)  wissen  Sie  noch,  was  ich  Ihn- 
en  neulich  sagte?  lit.  'do  you  still  know 
.  .  .  ? '  say  simply :  '  do  you  remember  what 
...?';  (/)  er  hebt  seine  Stimmejetzt  so  hoch, 
wie  er  noch  kann  (Whitney,  171,  5),  'as  his 
strength  still  allows,'  or,  '  enables  him,'  or  'as 
he  possibly  could;'  (g)  wenn  ich  auch  alle 
Schatze  der  Welt  habe,  so  habe  ich  doch  noch 
allerlei  Wiinsche,  '  I  have,  for  all  that,  all 
sorts  of  wishes  still';  (h)  die  paar  Stunden, 
die  noch  iibrig  sind,  'which  are  still  left,'  or 
simply,  '  which  remain  ' ;  (i)  aber  meint  ihr 
nicht,  wir  konnten  noch  entkommen  ?  (Bron- 
son  i.  179.  3),  'still,'  that  is,  now  as  well  as  a 
while  ago,  or,  '  even  now  ' ;  '  yet '  would  more 
likely  refer  to  some  time  or  other  in  the  future 
(see  C.  22),  which  is  not  meant  by  this  em- 
phatic noc  h  ;  (k)  noch  ist  es  Zeit,  dass  ich  gehe 
(cf.  Brandt  168.19),  like  (*')  above,  or  say,  'it 
isn't  too  late  yet  for  me  to  go,'  and  supply, 
'  but  it  will  soon  be  too  late  ' ;  (/)  noch  ist  er 
verwundert  uber  alles, was  er  hier  sieht  (Brandt, 
122.23),  '  he  is  still  surprised  '.  .  .,  or,  in  order 
to  intimate  more  clearly  that  his  wonder  is  ex- 
pected to  cease,  say,  'as  yet  he  is  .  .  .,'  cf. 


168 


337 


June,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


338 


Standard  Diet.,  s.v.yet,  the  two  examples: 
4  he  is  still  feeble  '  and  '  he  is  feeble  yet." 

Here  may  also  be  classed  :  um  nicht  von 
dem  jungen  Fant  iibersprungen  zu  werden, 
der  noch  mein  Schiiler  gewesen  ist  (Harris, 
156.19).  Harris  translates:  'besides,'  which 
in  German,  however,  would  quite  as  likely 
be  expressed  by  noch  dazu,  see  D.  28.  The 
idea  seems  to  be  :  '  who  is  slill  so  young  as  to 
have  been  my  pupil,'  or  'who  only  lately  was 
my  pupil.' 

2.  Noch  with  past  or  historical  tenses  and 
denoting  either — (a)  to  (c) — a  period,  also  a 
point,  of  time  in  the  past  (Grimm,  s.v.  noch  i, 
3),  or — (d)  to  (k)— continuation  of  time  from 
the  past  down  to  the  present,  absolute  or 
relative  (Grimm,  i,  2) — 83  times :  (a)  wahr- 
end  sie  noch  sprachen,  '  while  they  were 
still  speaking  ' ;  cf.  '  while  he  yet  spake,  be- 
hold a  bright  cloud  '  Matth.,  17.  5,  and  Cent. 
Diet,  yet,  i,  3  ;  (d)  in  Aegypten,  wohin  ich  noch 
sehr  Jung  geschickt  wurde,  'while  still  very 
young ; '  (c)  am  andern  Morgen  waren  die 
Segel  noch  aufgerollt,  '  still  furled  ' ;  (d)  ein 
Sensenmann  hat  mir  abgehauen,  was  von  der 
Hand  noch  iibrig  war,  say  '  what  little  there 
was  left,'  cf.  A.  \  (//) ;  (e)  sie  kommen  zuriick 
mit  Pferden,  die  sich  kaum  noch  schleppen 
konnen,  say,  '  which  had  scarcely  strength 
enough  left  to  drag  themselves  along ' ;  (f) 
nur  der  Anklager  fehlte  noch,  (Harris,  142.  9), 
'only  the  accuser  was  still  wanting,'  'still 
failed  to  put  in  appearance,'  or  negatively, 
'did  not  yet  appear;'  (g)  fliegen  konnten  sie 
nicht  gut,  denn  sie  hatten  noch  wenig  Ubung, 
'for  as  yet  they  had  had  but  little  practice,' 
cf.  A,  i  (/),  or  negatively,  'they  had  not  yet  had 
much  practice,' cf.  'not  yet,'  B.io.  Here, again, 
the  use  of  '  yet '  points  more  to  a  future  time 
when  they  might  possibly  get  the  necessary 
practice ;  (K)  dazu  war  ich  noch  fremd  in  der 
Gegend  und  kannte  den  Wald  noch  gar  wenig 
(Joynes-M.  116.69).  The  first  noch  does  not 
modify  dazu,  as  in  noch  dazu  (D.  28),  but  war 
ich,  just  as  the  second  modifies  kannte,  but  da- 
zu alone  has  here  the  same  force  as  noch  dazu 
in  D.  28 ;  (i)  so  that  sie  es  immer  seltner,  und 
zuletzt  kam  es  kaum  noch  vor,  dass  auch  nur 
von  dem  Ringe  gesprochen  wurde  (Harris,  55. 
5),  '  she  did  it  less  and  less  frequently,  and  '  lit. 
'finally  it  hardly  still  occurred,'  or,  'it  would 


hardly  occur  any  more  that  the  ring  was  even, 
or  '  even  so  much  as  mentioned  ;  '  (k)  ich  fand 
noch  alles,  wie  ich  es  verlassen,  logically  not  '  I« 
still  found  everything  as  I  had  left  it,'  but  rather, 
'  I  found  everything  still  as  I  had  left  it,'  that 
is,  '  everything  was  still  in  the  same  condition 
in  which  I  had  left  it.' 

3.  Noch+immer,   or,    iminer-\-noch,   with 
present  and  past  tenses,  '  all  the  time,'  '  even 
now,'  'even  then,'  often  simply=an  emphatic 
'still'— 41    times:    (a)    noch    immer   wurden 
mehr  Ballen  aus  dem  Schiffe   herausgewalzt 
(Joynes-M.,  98,  38),  '  all  the  time  they  went 
on    rolling';    (6)  er  war   nicht    ohne   Sorge 
daruber,   dass  die    Hilfstruppen  noch  immer 
ausblieben  (Brandt,  185.  20);  'still,'  or,  'even 
then    failed    to    appear;'    (r)    die    See    ist 
noch    immer    wie   toll,    'even   now    the    sea 
is   raging  violently';  ,(d)   als   er    noch    im- 
mer schwieg,  fuhr  der  Hauptmann  fort,  'when 
he  continued  to  be  silent ' ;  (e)  aber  ich  glaube 
es  von  Adelheid  immer  noch  nicht, 'but  I  can't 
believe  that  of  A.  even  now.' 

4.  Noch+immer,    or,   immer+noch— 'not- 
withstanding,' 'at  any  time,'   'at  any  rate,' 
'still'    (adversative) — 4  times:    (a)  denn  es 
ist    eine   eigene   Sache   mit    dem,    was  rich- 
tig  und   was   falsch   ist,    und  schlecht    Ding 
in    guter    Hand    ist    immer    noch    sehr    viel 
mehr  wert  wie  gut  Ding  in  schlechter  (Harris, 
55.  24),  'a  poor  thing  in  good  hands,'  or,  'in 
good  keeping, is  still,'  or,  'any  day, worth  much 
more  than ' ;  (6)  und  von  diesen  Jungen  ster- 
ben  doch  noch  immer  viele   Hungers    (Fas- 
nacht,  35.  7),  '  and  for  all  that,  many  of  these 
young  ones  die  of  starvation,'  say  perhaps, 'in- 
sist on  dying  ' ;    (c)  thus  also :   noch+allemal 
instead  of  noch-\-itnmer,  ich  sehe  noch  alle- 
mal  besser  als  dem  Herrn  Feldwebel  lieb  ist 
(Harris,   156.  10),   '  I  can  still  see  better  than 
you  every  time  '  or  '  any  day." 

5.  Noch-\-heute,  or,  heute-\-noch,nochjetzt, 
etc. — 30  times:    (a)  heute  noch  schreibe  ich 
an  ihn,  '  I'll  write  to  him  this  very  day  ' ;  (o)  er 
hat  mir  Gellert's  Schriften  noch  heute  gelobt, 
'  it's    only  to-day    that .  .  .  ' ;  (c)   ein    Volks- 
glauben,  der  noch  heute  nicht  ganz  erstorben, 
'  not  even  to-day,'  or  '  at  the  present  day  ' ;  (d) 
ein  Fieber,  das  noch  an  demselben  Tage  aus- 
brach,   'that  very  day,'  or,  'the  same   day;' 
(e)  kannst  du  das  Kunststiick  noch  jetzt  ?  '  do 


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340 


you  know  the  trick  still,'  or  'now?'  (emphatic); 
(/)  weil  ihm  noch  in  der  letzten  Stunde  ein 
Rettungsengel  erschien, '  in  the  very  last  hour,' 
'in  the  nick  of  time;'  (g)  bluht  morgen  dir 
ein  Roslein  auf,  es  welkt  wohl  noch  die  Nacht 
darauf,  '  the  very  next  night.' 

6.  Noch-\-vor  or  other  limiting  words  re- 
ferring to  the    past — 17  times :  (a)  das  Pferd 
kostete     mich    50    Dukaten     noch    vor    vier 
Wochen,   'only  four  weeks  ago;'  (6)  ich  sah 
ihn  gestern   noch  durch  die  Strasse  gehen, 
'  only  yesterday  ' ;  (c)  das  sagte  er  noch,  als  er 
17  Jahre  alt  war,  '  even  when  he  was  ' ;  (d)  ich 
begegnete  ihm  noch  spat  abends  8  Uhr,  '  as 
late  as  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening ' ;  (e)  noch 
am  Grabe  pflanzt  er  die  Hoffnung  auf,  '  even 
at  the  grave.'     In  this  and  the  next  example 
the  notions   of  time  and  space  are  blended  ; 
(/)  vor  der  Thiir  konnte  man  mich  noch  recht 
gut  horen  (Buchh.  ii,  32.  i),  'at  the  door  they 
still  could  understand  me  quite  well,'  that  is, 
'  as  far  away  as  the  door.' 

7.  So  lange  noch,  generally='as  long  as,'  or 
'just  as  long  as'— 12  times:  (a)  so  lange  noch 
Gaste  in  der  Wirtsstube  sitzen,  konnen  Wirtin 
und  Dienstboten  nicht  weggehen,  'as  long  as,' 
or,  'just  as  long  as  ' ;  (d)  similarly  :  wie   lange 
gedenkst    du    noch    zu    leben  ?    '  how    much 
longer  do  you  expect  to  live  ?  '    The  noch  in 
these  two  examples,  especially  in  the  latter, 
verges  on  that  of   C;   it  points  towards  the 
future  ;  cf.   C.  13,  noch  lange. 

8.  Nur  noch'.  various  equivalents — 12  times: 
(a)  ich  spreche  gar  nicht  mehr ;    ich    nicke 
gewohnlich    nur    noch    zu    allem     mit    dem 
Kopf  (Harris  163.9),  ' a^  I  generally  do  now  is 
is  to  nod  assent  to  everything  ' ;  (b)  er  fiel  tot 
und  ohne  auch  nur  noch  zu  zucken  nieder 
(Brandt  70.  28),  '  without  even  so  much  as  a 
quiver';  (c]  ehe  ich  mich  aber  umsehen  konnte, 
war  dieser  jemand  schon  vorbei,  und  ich  sah 
nur  noch  einen    Schatten  an  den    Hausern 
hinschweben  (Bronson  ii,  39.   15),  'and  all    I 
saw  was  .  .  .  ,'  or,  '  I  just  managed  to  see  . .  .,' 
or,  '  I  all  but  missed  seeing  .  .  . ' ;  (d}  similarly: 
er  hatte  eben  noch  Zeit,  wieder  in  das  Coupe" 
zu  springen,  'was  all  but  too  late,'  or,  'had 
just  time  (enough  left)  to  .  .  .  ' ;  (e)  similarly  : 
die.schweren  Steine,  die  ihm  allein  noch  hin- 
derlich  gewesen  waren,  '  which  had  been  the 
only  thing  that  still  bothered  him.' 


9.  Das  fehlte    noch     (ironical)— 3  times: 
sometimes  a  nur  is  found  before  the  noch;  for 
example:  das  fehlte  in  der  That  nur  noch,  um 
die   Gemiitlichkeit    vollkommen    zu   machen 
(Harris  159.  28),   '  exactly,  that's  just  what  is 
wanting,'  or,  '  that  would  be  the  last  straw.' 

GROUP    B. 
Noch  with  various  negatives. 

10.  Noch-\-nicht  or  nichts,  with  present  and 
past  tenses — 61  times  :   (a)  er  ist  noch   nicht 
hier  'he  is'nt    here  yet';     (b)  noch  ist    es 
nicht    geschehen,    '  it  has  not  been  done  as 
yet,'  or,  'so  far  it  hasn't  been  done ';  (c)  ich 
glaube  gar.die  langen  Fransen  sind  noch  nicht 
einmal  gewechselt  (Harris  161.  16),  'haven't 
even  been  changed   yet '  ;  (d)  ich   habe  ihn 
noch  gar  nicht  gesehn,  to  be  translated  ac- 
cording to  context    and    emphasis ;    if  with 
greater  emphasis  on  gar  than  on  gesehen  :   '  I 
haven't  seen  him  at  all ' ;    if  with  a  greater 
emphasis  on  gesehen  than  on  gar:  '  I  haven't 
seen  him  '  ;  (e)  geh,  aber  jetzt  noch  nicht,  '  go, 
but  not  yet,'  or,  'not  now';   (f)  ich  bin  ein 
Original ;  das  kann  ich  ohne  Eitelkeit  sagen  ; 
aber  darum  sage  ich  noch  nicht,  dass  ich  ein 
gutes  Original  bin  (Harris  120,  21),  '  but  I  do 
not  go  so  far  as  to  say  that,'  or,  '  but  that 
does  not  mean  that';  (g)  als  sie  sah  dass  noch 
nichts  gesponnen  war,  '  that  nothing  had  yet 
been  spun ; '  (h)  mein  Bruder  wusst'  es  noch 
nicht,  'didn't  know  it  at  the  time,'  or,  'at  that 
time' ;  (i)  solcher  Schimpf  war  dem   Kaiser 
noch  nicht  geschehen,  'not  yet,'  or,   'never 
yet.' 

11.  Noch  lange  nicht — twice:  (a)  sie  hatte 
sich  noch  lange  nicht  erholt,  '  she  was  still 
far  from  having  recovered,'  or,  'she  was  not 
yet '  (or  '  by  no  means  ')  restored  ' ;  (b}  wir  at- 
meten  freier,  aber  unsere  Angst  hatte  noch 
lange  kein    Ende,   '  our  anxiety  was  by   no 
means  yet  over.' 

12.  Noch+  kein,    with    present    and    past 
tenses,  '  not  before,' '  never  yet,'  '  not  before  ' 
'  never  before' —  19  times  :    (a)    du   hast  mir 
noch    keine    Antwort    darauf  gegeben,  '  you 
haven't  answered  my  question  yet ' ;   (b)  noch 
habe  ich  kein  Wort  von  dir  gehort,  '  I  haven't 
yet  heard  a  word  from  you ' ;  (c)  auch  mich 
hat,  wie  Sie,  bis  jetzt  noch  kein  harter  Schlag 
betroffen  (Joynes-M.  141.  10),  '  before  this  no 


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342 


great  bereavement  has  befallen  either  you  or 
me';  (d)  Herr,  diesen  Fisch  hab'  ich  ge- 
fangen,  wie  keiner  noch  ins  Netz  gegangen, 
'  such  as  I  never  saw  in  my  net  before  ' ;  (e) 
ein  Haus  wie  er  noch  keins  gesehen  hatte, 
'  such  as  he  had  never  seen  before.' 

13.  Noch-\-nie  (niemals),    '  never  yet ' — 14 
times :    bei  seinem  Barte  hatte  ja  der  Kaiser 
noch  nie  geschworen,  ohne 'for  the  em- 
peror had  never  yet  sworn  by  his  beard  with- 
out .  .  .' 

GROUP    C. 

In  A  and  B,  the  force  of  noch  did  not  ex- 
tend beyond  the  present  into  the  future  (with 
the  possible  exception  of  7).  It  will  now  be 
seen  that  the  examples  of  C  point  by  degrees 
more  and  more  to  the  future,  as  we  begin  with 
13  and  end  with  22. 

14.  Noch-\-lange,  lange  Zeit,  eine  Stunde, 
ein  Jahr,  ein  bischen,  and  other  limiting  words 
indicating  continuation  from  the  past,  through 
the  present,  into  the  future,  relative  or  abso- 
lute— 33  times  :    (a)  sie  besprachen  sich  noch 
lange    iiber    die    Geschichte,    '  for    a    long 
time  still,'   'much    longer':     (b)    der    Adler 
sclnvebte  lange  noch  iiber  dem  Haupte   des 
Bauers,  like  (a);  (c)  so  lebte  er  noch  ein  paar 
Tage  fort,   '  thus  he  lived  on  for  a  few  days 
longer ' ;  (d)  ich  fur  meinen  Teil  habe  lieber 
mein  Pferd  in  dieser  Schenke  eingestellt,  als 
dass  ich  nur  noch  eine  Stunde  weiter  geritten 
ware  (Bronson  i.    173.8),   '  than  ride  even  so 
much  as  an  hour's  journey  further  ' ;  (e)  eine 
Woche  will  ich's  noch  mil  ansehen,  dannaber 
.  .  .  (Harris  171.  2),  Til  try  to  stand  it  one 
week  longer  (or  'still'),  but  after  that  .  .  .'; 
(/)Hermann  begleitete  die  Romer  noch  eine 
Strecke  (Brandt  186.  14),  '  for  a  distance  still ' ; 
'a     little    further    still';     (g)    sie    tranken 
noch    bis    tief    in    die    Nacht    hinein,    '  they 
continued  drinking  till   late  into  the  night.' 
Cf.  the  use  of  yet  in  :    '  for  yet  a  little  while 
and  he  that  shall  come  will  come,  and  will 
not  tarry,'  Heb.  10.  37  ;  also  John  7.  33. 

15.  Noch  without  limiting  word.  The  con- 
tinuation of  time  from  the  past,  as  well  as  the 
extension  into  the  future,  are  more  or  less  evi- 
dent from  the  context — 30  times:  (a)  sprach 
zutn  Richter:  gewahrt  mir  noch  eine  Bitte, 
'grant  me  still  one  request,'  noch—(\)  '  while 


we  continue  to  be  together,'  or  'while  there  is 
time,'  and  (2)  'before  I  am  hanged.'  The 
English  seems  to  emphasize  (i)  rather  than 
(2);  the  German  (2)  rather  than  (i);  (b)  45 
Jahre  ist  kein  Alter.  Er  muss  noch  schreiben, 
fur  die  Welt  leben  (Harris  121.  23),  'still  write,' 
'  go  on  writing  ' ;  (c)  du  hast  noch  einen  lang- 
en  Weg  vor  dir,  '  you  have  still  a  long  dis- 
tance before  you  ' ;  '  yet '  would  seem  rather 
more  emphatic  than  necessary. 

Here  noch  often  verges  on  the  nocA='more' 
(D.  26):  (a)  eine  Nachricht  muss  ich  Ihnen 
noch  melden  (Harris  122.  25),  noch  rather= 
'before  I  finish  my  letter,'  than='one  more 
piece  of  news  ; '  (e)  ich  habe  dir  noch  viel  zu 
erzahlen  (Harris  175.  7),  '  I  have  much  to  tell 
you  still,'  or,  '  much  more.'  The  context  only 
will  decide  in  such  cases  which  is  the  better 
rendering,  and  often  ,the  difference  is  very 
slight. 

At  other  times  again  the  noch  approaches 
the  meaning  of  '  at  some  indefinite  time  in  the 
future,'  (C.  22):  (/)  es  scheint,  das  wir  noch  zu 
einem  vollstandigen  Urteil  kommen  konnen 
(Brandt  179.  20),  that  we  may  yet  reach  .  .  .,' 
that  is,  '  if  we  only  keep  on  with  our  investi- 
gation.' But  noch  may  here  also  be=' even 
now,'  'late  as  it  is,'  or  '  before  every  oppor- 
tunity of  collecting  evidence  is  cut  off';  or 
translate  '  that  it  is  not  yet  too  late  to  .  .  .'  A 
good  example  to  show  the  different  points  of 
view  that  may  sometimes  be  taken  in  the  in- 
terpretation of  noch. 

16.  The  time  of   this  noch,  which  points 
more  or  less  clearly  to  the  future,  is  some- 
times represented  as  coinciding  with,  or  im- 
mediately following,  that  of  another  action — 
6  times :    (a)   als  er  aber  zum  Galgen  abge- 
fiihrt  wurde,  schrie  ihm  noch  der  Jude  nach, 
'the  Jew  still  cried  out  after  him,'  that  is,  (i) 
'  while  they  led  him  away,'  and  (2)  'before  he 
was  quite  out  of  sight.'     Notice  that  the  noch 
here  might  be  transposed  to  the  other  clause  : 
aber  noch  als  .  .  . ;  (b)  a  stage  direction  :  durch 
die  Mitte    ab,   nachdem  sie    im   Vorbeieilen 
Casar  noch  einen  Kuss  gegeben  hat  (Harris 
167.  24),  not  'another  kiss,'  but  '  after  stopping 
to  give  Caesar  a  hasty  kiss  as  she  passes.' 

17.  The  fact  that  noch  refers  to  the  future, 
or  rather  limits  the  time  of   an  action  to  a 
period  which  closes  with  the  beginning   of 


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344 


another  action  or  event,  is  often  clearly  indi- 
cated by  such  words  as  bevor,  vor,  etc., — 6 
times  :  (a)  bevor  er  Wien  verliess,  beehrte  ihn 
die  Kaiserin  noch  mit  einer  Unterredung,  'the 
Empress  honored  him  ..."  The  same  trans- 
position is  here  possible  as  in  15.  (a) ;  (b)  er 
sagte,  ich  miisste  ihm  noch  vor  der  Abreise 
was  spielen,  '  must  still  play,'  that  is,  '  while  I 
was  with  him,'  or  'during  my  visit,'  and  'be- 
fore leaving  him.'  Although  the  English  often 
need  not  translate  the  noch,  the  student 
should  nevertheless  feel  the  force  of  it  in  the 
German. 

18.  More    frequently  the    limitation    men- 
tioned 17  above.expressed  by  the:  ehe-\-noch, 
noch+ehe,  ehe  .  .  .  noch,  'before,'  or  'even 
before'— 20  times:    (a)    aber   ehe   der    Kai- 
ser noch  Zeit  hatte,  seinen  Retter  zu  betrach- 
ten,  war  dieser  bereits  verschwunden  ;  (b)  we 
also  have  noch  and  ehe  in  different  clauses : 
wenn  ihr  meinen  Rat  folgt,  so  kann  ich  euch 
noch  freimachen,  ehe  es  zu  spat  ist. 

19.  In  this  section  and  in  20  and  21,   the 
noch  points  also  clearly  to  the  future,  but  the 
limitation  is  to  be  inferred  from  the  context, 
and    various    free    English    translations    are 
possible— 3  times:    (a)  nicht    weit    von    der 
Stadt  zieht  sich  ein  Vorgebirge  in  das  Meer. 
Dorthin  wollten  noch  die  Madchen,  um  von 
da  die   Sonne  in  das  Meer  sinken  zu  sehen 
(Bronson  ii,  55. 18),   noch^  before  they  were 
rowed    back,'     'before    they     returned,'    or 
say  :  '  thither  they  wished  to  extend  their  ex- 
cursion ' ;  (b)  der  Hahn  sagte,  es  scheine  dort 
ein  Licht.    Sprach  der  Esel :    So  miissen  wir 
uns    aufmachen    und    noch    hingehen,     denn 
hier  ist  die  Herberge  schlecht  (Bronson,  i,  52. 
26),  '  go  thither  before  we  go  to  sleep,'  or  '  go 
thither,  late  as  it  is';  or  also:  'continue  our 
journey  till  we  reach  the  light ' ;  (c)  der  Lot- 
senkommandeur  wundert  sich,  aber  er  geht  hin 
und  schliesst  die  Thiir ;  und  mein  Bruder  sieht 
noch,  dass  in  der  andern  Stube  Theodor  auf 
dem  Bett  sitzt  (Whitney,  173.  12),  '  before  he 
actually  closed  the  door,'  or  'just  managed  to 
see  that,'  or  'all  but  missed  seeing  that' ;  cf. 
A.  8.  d. 

20.  Noch='  first '—  12    times:    (a)   er   war 
entschlossen,  die  Schwester  aufzusuchen,  aber 
er  wollte  sich  nur  noch  den  Segen  des  Vaters 
erbitten  (Bronson  ii,  57.  9);  (b)  etwas  muss  ich 


aber  noch  gestehen,  was  mir  auch  nicht 
wenig  Geld  einbrachte,  ich  nahm  meine  Arz- 
neikunst  zu  Hilfe  (Bronson  ii,  37.  10),  'first,' 
that  is,  '  before  I  go  on  with  my  story ' ; 
(r).endlich  aber  wurde  der  Vater  mit  sein- 
en Sachen  in  den  Korbwagen  geschafft, 
nachdem  er  noch  einige  Male  um  den  Wagen 
herumgegangen  war  (Brandt  118.  26),  hot 
'several  times  more,'  but  'after  he  had  first 
..."  and  'before  he  actually  got  in';  (d) 
sometimes  the  translation  by  '  first '  is  plainly 
suggested  by  erst  noch :  ach,  nicht  erst  noch 
schmieren  !  (Brandt  218.  3)  '  oh  don't  stop  to 
limber  me  up  first ! ' 

21.  Noch=>  in  time,'  '  at  the  last  moment ' 
— 6  times :  (a)  er  holte  eben  so  schnell  auch 
noch  seinen   Kameraden  (Bronson  i,  74.  18), 
'and  just  as  quickly  he  also  fetched  his  com- 
rade in  time,'  or  'before  it  was  too  late,'  'in 
the  nick  of  time ; '    (b)  vielleicht    kann    die 
Grafin  vergessen,  was  ich  ihr  schnell    noch 
sagte  (Bronson  i,  204.  28),  '  what  I  said  to  her 
at  the  last  moment  '  and  '  before  parting.' 

22.  In  the  examples  in  this  section, noch  re- 
fers with  great  clearness  to  the  future  and  oc- 
curs, therefore,  exclusively  with    the    future 
tense  (or  the  present  used  in  its  place);    but  in 
point  or  period  of  time  is  much  less  definitely 
limited  than  in  the  preceding  sections.     It  is  in 
these  cases  that  the  use  of  yet,  as  in:  'he'll 
be  hanged  yet}  (Shak.)  is  eminently  in  place. 
Often    noch='  at    some    time    or    other ' — 18 
times :     (a)    Zinnsoldat,    du    wirst    dir    noch 
die  Augen  aussehen  ;  (b)  dein  Mannchen  kennt 
nur  die  Sammetpfotchen :  du  wirst  die  Kral- 
len  schon  noch  herausstrecken  (Whitney  216. 
13),  '  I  am  sure,  he'll  yet  be  made  to  feel  your 
claws  '  ;  (c)  wer  weiss,  was  noch  kommt  ? 

This  is  the  last  example  of  noch  ae  a  tem- 
poral adverb.  Its  range  extends  from  a  dis- 
tant past,  for  example  :  sie  waren  noch  nie 
besiegt  worden,  to  a  distant  future,  for  ex- 
ample :  das  wird  in  Europa  auch  noch  Mode 
werden. 

GROUP    D. 
Noch  as  an  adverb  of  degree,  measure,  etc. 

23.  Noch  with  comparatives,  '  still '  or  'yet' 
—  82    times:    (a)  da    war   es    noch    schlim- 
mer  als  unter  der  Rinnsteinbriicke ;  (b)  "Die 
Geschichte  ist  Ihnen  wohl  zu  Herzen  gegan- 


172 


315 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


346 


gen  ?  "  "  Mehr  noch  als  den  anderen  Herren,' 
(Whitney  176.  16),  '  more  even  than  ' ;  (c)  die 
ehernen  Stiere  waren  noch  viel  boser  und 
starker  als  wirkliche  Stiere;  (d)  here  may 
also  be  classed  :  aber  ich  hatte  noch  ganz  was 
anderes  zu  erzahlen  (Brandt  8r.  27),  '  some- 
thing much  more  remarkable  still.' 

24.  Nur  noch  with  comparatives,  '  only  all 
the  '-(-comparative— 3  times  :    (a)  er  hielt  sein 
Gewehr  nur  noch  fester,   '  only  all  the  more 
firmly';    (d)  seine  Verkleidung  brachte   ihn 
nur  noch  mehr  in  Gefahr,  'only  brought  him 
into  all  the  greater  danger,'  or,  '  was  far  from 
making    the   danger    of    his  situation    less.' 

25.  Noch  and  auch  noch,  '  besides,'  'more- 
over,' 'also,' '  in  addition,' '  else  ' — 34  times: 
(a)  das    Auditorium    war    so  voll,    dass    ein 
Vorsaal   und   noch  die  Flur  bis  an  die  Haus- 
thiir  besetzt  war  ( Buchheim  ii,   31.  21);   (d) 
die  elfte  Arbeit    war    noch    mil    einer    ganz 
besondern  Schwierigkeit  verbunden,  'involved 
moreover  a  quite  peculiar  difficulty ' ;   (c)  so 
ein    Schwein,    das    schmeckt    anders,    dabei 
noch  die  Wiirste,  '  and  then  all  the  sausages 
besides,'  or,  '  in  addition,'  or  '  not  to  speak  of 
all  the  sausages  ' ;   (d)  er  schloss  die  Laden, 
damit    niemand    etwas    sahe,    riegelte    dann 
auch  noch  die  Thiir  hinter  sich  zu  (Harris  52. 
6),   auch  noch=>'m  addition,'   but    the    noch 
might  also  be =' before  doing  anything  else,' 
that  is,  '  before  expressing  his  wish,'  cf.  C.  15  ; 
(e)  Hans  dankte  Gott,  dass  er  ihm  auch  diese 
Gnade  noch  erwiesen  hatte,  'that  he  had  even 
granted  him  this  favor  also,'  'in  addition  to 
all  the  others  ' ;  (/)  sie  fragten  mich,  wass  ich 
denn  noch  zu  thun  hatte,   'what  more,'   or 
'  what  else  I  had  to  do ; '  (,?)  er  wusste  nicht, 
wohin  er  sich  noch  verbergen  konne  (Harris 
36.   14),  'where  else  he  should  hide  himself.' 

26.  Noch+viel,  manch,  einig,  wenig,  etc. 
— 15  times :    (a)  e's  werden   ihrer   noch   viele 
kommen,  '  many  more,'  '  many  others  ' ;  (b)  es 
kostete  noch  einige  Miihe,  ihn  heraufzubringen 
(Brandt  92.  19),   '  some   further  trouble '  ;    (c) 
lege  noch  etwas  Holz  an  (that  is,  ans  Feuer), 
1  a  little  more  ' ;  (d)  also  noch  -(-common  noun: 
einen  Gruss  noch  rief  der  Held  der  Geliebten 
zu  (Brandt  65.  3),   'one  more  greeting';    but 
here,  as  well  as  in  D.  25.  (d),  the  noch  might  be 
be  :  '  before  departing.' 

27.  Sonst  noch — 8  times :    (a)  und  was  du 


sonst  noch  hast  '  and  whatever  else  you  may 
have ' ;  (b)  fragte,  ob  er  nicht  sonst  noch 
zu  Diensten  sein  konne,  'in  other  respects,' 
'  in  other  ways ' ;  (c)  und  sonst  noch  allerlei 
Putz  und  Zieraten,  '  many  other  kinds  of.' 

28.  Noch  dazu,  noch  obendrein,  '  besides 
all    that,'    'to    boot,'    'and   even' — 7  times : 

(a)  sie  wies  einen  nach  dem  andern  ab  und 
trieb  noch  dazu  Spott  mit  ihnen,   '  and  even 
ridiculed  them  ' :  (d)  er  bot  ihm  viel  Geld  und 
versprach  noch  obendrein,  ihm  eine  weit  gros- 
sere  Miihle  bauen  zu  lassen,  '  and  went  so  far 
as  to  promise.' 

29.  Noch  einmal,  'once   more,'   'again' — 
66  times :    (a)  noch   einmal  eilt  Siegfried   zu 
seinem  trauten  Weib  ;    (f>)   er   ist    noch    ein- 
mal hier  gewesen,  '  again." 

Here  may  also  be  classed  eight  cases  in 
which  higher  numerals  than  ein  are  used  be- 
fore mal:  (c)  wenn  ich' mich  recht  auseinan- 
derthue,  bin  ich  noch  dreitausendmal  so  dick, 
say  '  three  thousand  times  as  thick  as  before  ' ; 
(d)  ich  habe  in  spateren  Jahren  noch  hundert- 
mal  derlei  erlebt,  'time  and  again,'  'again  and 
again.' 

30.  Noch    ein,    '  another,  '    '  longer  '  —  26 
times;  (a)  rechts  ist  noch  ein  Zimmer,  'an- 
other ' ;    (b)  das  Stiimpchen  Licht  kann  kaum 
noch    eine    Viertelstunde    dauern    ( Bronson 
i.    180.    n),  'another    quarter    of  an   hour,' 
or  '  a  quarter  of  an  hour  longer  ' ;  (c)  er  hatte 
gern  noch    einen    letzten    Versuch  gemacht, 
'another,  and  a  final,  attempt.' 

31.  Noch   ein    anderer,   '  another  not  yet 
mentioned  or  considered  ' — 6  times  :    (a)   nun 
warb  aber  noch  ein  anderer  Freier  um  Gud- 
run  (Harris  202.  15) ;  (b)  drei  Buben  und  zwei 
Madchen,  zu  denen  oft  noch  andere  Gespielen 
aus  der  Nachbarschaft  kamen  (Brandt  89.  13), 
'  three  boys  and  two  girls  (who  were   play- 
mates and),  who  were  sometimes  joined   by 
other  playmates  (still)  from  the  neighborhood.' 

32.  Weder  .  .  .  noch,    '  neither  .  .  .  nor  ' — 
15   times :    er    hatte    weder  gegessen,    noch 
getrunken. 

33.  Noch,  without  weder,  after  a  negative 
or  privative  in  preceding  clause,  '  neither  .  .  . 
nor,'    'nor' — 9    times:     (a)    ich    kann    euch 
nicht  beliigen,  noch  betriigen  (Harris  207.  10); 

(b)  nie  Saite,  noch  Gesang  ;  (c)  ohne  Schnauze, 
noch  Fiisse  nass  zu  machen,  '  without  wetting 


173 


347 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.    Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


348 


either    mouth    or    feet,'   or   '  wetting  neither 
mouth,  nor  feet.' 

34.  Noch,  '  even,'  '  yet,'  '  and  what  is  more 
than    that' — 14   times:     (a)    Andreas    noch 
in    Banden    frei    (Brandt   139.   5),    'even,'   or 
'  though  in  fetters,  yet  free  ' ;  (b)  und  noch  im 
Netze  gab  der  Fisch  den  Laut  von  sich  (Buch- 
heim  i.  43.  12),  '  even  while  in  the  net '  ;  (c)  die 
Wirtin  gab  ihr  einen  alten  Rock  und  ein  Paar 
wollene  Striimpfe ;   dabei  that  sie  noch,   als 
war's  ein  grosses  Geschenk  (Bronson  i.  76. 16), 
'  gave  her  .  .  .  stockings ;    and  mean  though 
they  were,  she  even  pretended  that  .  .  .,'  or 
'  even  acted  as  if  .  .  .'. 

35.  Noch  einmal so  .  .  .,  'twice  as  .  .  .,'  'as 
.   .  .  again  '—once :    sasse    doch    das    kleine 
Madchen  hier  im  Boote,  dann  konnte  es  ge- 
trost  noch  einmal  so  finster  sein  (Brandt  29. 
4),  '  as  dark  again.' 

36.  Noch  so  .    .    .,  'never  so   .   .   .  ' — 18 
times ;  (a)  was  hilft  es,  dass  ich  noch  so  ge- 
sund  aussehe(Joynes-M.  134.28),  'look  never  so 
well ' ;  on  '  never  so  '  and  '  ever  so '  cf.  Web- 
ster's Internal.  Diet.  s.  v  .  never ;  on  the  re- 
lation of  noch  so  to  noch  einmal  so  (35  above) 
cf.  Grimm,  Wb.  s.v.  noch,  ii,  2. 

37.  Noch,   'at  least,'   'possibly' — 5   times: 
(a)  auch  diese  Hoffnung  fehlgeschlagen  !   das 
Hausmadchen  hatte  vielleicht  noch  etwas  ge- 
wusst  (Brandt  166.  19),   '  it  might  have  been 
that  the  servant  girl  at  least  had  known  some- 
thing,' that  is,  even  if  the  mistress  could  not 
be  expected,  or,  was  sure  not,  to  know  any- 
thing about  cooking ;  (b)  wenn  ich  noch  einen 
Explosionsstoff  entdeckt  hatte  (Harris  168.24), 
'at  least.'    Compare  with  this:    war's   noch 
die  kaiserliche  Kron  !    Zo  ist's  der  Hut  von 
Oesterreich,  Tell  408,  '  if  it  were  at  least  the 
emperor's  crown  !    as  it  is,'  or,  'now,  it  is  the 
hat  of  A.,'  where  Deering  translates  'only,' 
which  is  ambiguous ;  also  Neffe  als  Onkel  ii,9, 
fin.  ja,  wenn  ich  noch  wenigstens  ein  Glas  zu 
viel  getrunken  hatte — Aber  so!;  here  the  wenig- 
stens is  expressed,  but  the  meaning  would  re- 
main the  same  if  it  were  left  out.     Cf.  A.  2  (K) 
where  noch=noch  dazu;  also  C.  20  (d),  where 
noch— erst  noch. 

Here  may  also  be  classed  :  freilich,  die  Zeit 
kann  aus  den  Menschen  noch  was  machen  (iron- 
ical ;  Brandt  98.  15),  that  is,  'if  all  other  things 
or  powers  cannot,  Time,  at  least,  can  make 


something  out.  of  a  fellow.'  But  this  might 
possibly  be  :  'Time  in  the  end,  can  .  .  .,'  that 
is,  if  you  only  wait  long  enough;  or,  'Time 
will  yet  make  .  .  .,'  C.  22. 

A  similar  notion  of  a  least,  or  lowest  de- 
gree is  implied  in  :  das  ist  noch  gnadig  genug 
abgegangen  (Harris  160.  n);  in  other  words: 
ich  nenne  das  noch  gnadig,  d.h.  noch  nicht 
ungnadig  oder  unglucklich,  denn  es  hatte 
schlimmer  werden  konnen,  '  I  call  that  lucky 
(enough)  still,'  or,  '  it  might  have  been  worse,' 
or  '  it  went  better  than  I  thought  it  would.' 

The  following  summary  shows  at  a  glance 
which  of  the  English  equivalents  occur  most 
frequently  and  are  hence  the  most  important 
for  the  student  to  learn. 


A. 


96 
83 
4i 
4 
30 
i? 

12 
12 

3 
298 


B. 

10  61 

11  2 

12  19 

13  14 

96 


C. 


D. 


*4   33     23  82 

15  30     24  3 

16  6     25  34 

17  6     26  15 

18  20     27  8 

19  3     28  7 

20  12     29  66 

21  6     30  36 

22  18     31  6 

32  15 

J34     33  9 

34  14 

35  i 

36  8 

37  5 

309 
CONRAD  BIERWTRTH. 


Harvard  University. 


THE    OLD-ENGLISH  RUNES  FOR    a 

AND  o. 

IT  is  well  known  that  the  Old-English  runes 
f:  P  p  represented  the  three  sounds  c?  a  o, 
and  p  p:  are  generally  regarded  as  modifica- 
tions of  pj  made  by  the  addition  of  diacritical 
marks  in  order  to  secure  differentiated  sym- 
bols. But  if  p  had  continued  as  the  sign  for 
the  three  sounds  that  arose  out  of  Germanic 


174 


349 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


350 


a  until  it  occurred  to  some  one  that  it  was  not 
well  so,  and  that  it  would  be  better  to  differ- 
entiate them,  we  should  be  justified  in  asking 
why  it  was  that  ^rather  than  one  of  the  others 
was  allowed  to  retain  the  original  sign ;  and, 
if  it  was,  why  one  stroke  was  added  to  a  and 
two  strokes  to  o\  and  why  these  additional 
strokes  were  not  attached  to  the  other  side 
of  the  stems,  rather  than  clumsily  hung  on  the 
projections  to  the  right.  Besides  it  would 
seem  strange,  if  these  forms  were  due  to  an 
arbitrary  interference  of  this  kind,  that  the 
same  new  forms  were  hit  upon  by  most  writers 
or  that  one  man's  choice  became  general  con- 
vention. 

We  are  therefore  led  to  look  for  something 
in  the  language  itself  that  guided  most  writ- 
ers independently  to  the  same  or  similar  forms 
and  thus  established  the  new  usage.  It  is  my 
purpose  to  show  that  the  younger  letters  were 
not  arbitrary  creations  but  natural  develop- 
ments ;  thftt  the  two  did  not  arise  at  the  same 
time  ;  and  that  they  probably  stood  originally 
not  for  either  long  or  short  a  and  o  but  for  a 
and  o  only. 

When  Germanic  a  became  Old-English  <?, 
such  a  word  as  asc  ^  $  <  became  cesc ,  but  as 
it  continued  to  be  written  ^$  <  ,  the  rune  f: 
acquired  the  value  ce  by  the  side  of  that  of  a. 
On  the  other  hand,  as  Germanic  a\  gradually 
blended  into  the  one  sound  a,  the  two  runic 
symbols  for  a\\  namely  pr|,  gradually  blended 
into  a  ligature  something  like  f>j ,  out  of  which 
grew  the  two  common  forms  p  and  ji'  (cf.  the 
change  of  Greek  cn>a,  as  the  diphthong  be- 
came the  long  vowel  a,  and  the  similar  change 
of  Latin  ae><e>£);  and  thus  with  the  new 
a-sound,  a  new  symbol  arose,  which  doubtless 
was  soon  used  also  for  the  a  that  had  not 
arisen  out  of  a/.  There  were  then — not  yet 
two  runes— but  two  forms  of  the  same  rune  : 
one  for  short  a  and  ce  and  one  for  long  a  (and 
for  ~ce  ?).  But  it  was  natural  that,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  other  vowels,  both  long  and  short  a 
should  in  time  be  expressed  by  the  same  sign; 
in  this  way  f^  came  to  stand  for  ce  only,  and  f?' 
for  a  as  well  as  a,  and  thus  a  new  rune  was  es- 
tablished. This  very  early  stage  in  the  de- 
velopment of  the  Old-English  language  is 
preserved  in  the  inscription  on  the  Colliugham 
cross  (Stephens,  ii,  390;  iii,  183):— 


csftar  Answini  cu(ning).1 
From  the  use  here  made  of  f  and  J5T  we  see 
that  the  change  of  a  to  CE  and  that  of  aj  to  a 
had  taken  place,  but  that  a  (perhaps  nasalized) 
still  stood  before  nasal  and  fricative.  For  it 
is  f^  a  not  ft  o,  as  Stephens  gives  it  and 
as  others  have  copied  ;  cf.  Stephens'  own 
figure  of  the  stone  (ii,  391)  and  the  report  of 
Haigh  (Stephens  iii,  183).  * 

In  time  the  old  an  before  a  voiceless  frica- 
tive became  nasalized  ^,  and  later  o;  and  the 
symbols  pj,  or  ty  (cf.  the  later  similar  writing 
on  the  Franks  casket,  Stephens  ii,  470,  Wiilker, 
Bib.  Angl.  Poesie  i,  etc.),  gradually  blended 
into  a  ligature  something  like  pj  or  fyt  out  of 

i  This  exceedingly  valuable  inscription  (whose  date  we 
know,  Oswin  having  been  killed  in  651)  shows  still  other  an- 
tique peculiarities;  for  example,  the  Germanic  form  of  the 
t'-rune,  namely  {  ',  the  a  in  afftar,  and  the  K  in  cutting, 
either  not  yet  mutated  or  with  mutation  not  yet  expressed. 
—  Since  writing  this  article  I  have  received  Victor's  Nor- 
thumbrische  Runen,  from  which  it  is  evident  that  th«  Col- 
lingham  cross  has  weathered  badly  since  seen  by  Stephens, 
Haigh,  etc.  Victor  reads  :—  JEFT(JER  JER£>)SWI(HUN), 
but  is  uncertain  about  what  is  in  (  ),  quite  so  about  HUN. 
Victor's  photographs  of  the  monument  are  unfortunate,  the 
leftside  being  perfectly  black  and  the  right  illegible.  The 
two  distinct  black  strokes  of  the  first  rune  on  the  right  (which 
make  it  look  like  ^  rather  than  fv  )are  evidently  the  work 
'of  the  retoucher's  pencil  or  of  accidental  scratches  on  the 
negative.  — 

Of  about  th«  same  age  is  the  inscription  on  the  Shropshire 
beads  (Stephens  iii,  160),  which  Stephens  reads  :  I  ^  I  _ 

&^  ^  "1  *>    F"  A,  and  which  also  shows  <  »  F 

and  te*  ,  and  whose  ^  is  probably  still  unmutated.  So  also 
the  inscription  on  the  coin  in  the  British  Museum  (Stephens 
ii,  879  and  Ixviii  ;  Wimmer  87):  — 


scanoinodu; 

for  here,  too,  we  find  ^  ,  but  £  is  still  o.  The  ^  for  c 
(cf.  the  the  Lindholm  inscription,  Stephens  iii,  33)  's  one  of 
the  intermediate  stages  between  <  and  the  usual  Old-Eng- 
lish L  (Wimmer  87);  the  form  of  the  f-rune  is  very  antique. 
It  will  also  be  observed  that  the  o  of  the  first  member  and 
final  u  after  the  long  syllable  had  not  yet  disappeared. 

2  Haigh  wrote  ae/tar  answini,  which  Stephens  misprints 
at/ter  auswini. 


'75 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


352 


which  grew  the  usual  forms  p  [v  3;  and  thus, 
with  a  new  5-sound,  a  new  symbol  arose.  As 
the  old  0-sign,  ^,  had  in  many  cases,  particu- 
larly in  its  very  name,  acquired  the  sound  a?, 
it  was  natural  that  the  new  sign  for  b  should 
come  to  be  used  for  all  cases  of  long  and 
short  o. 

The  more  or  less  parallel  changes  in  the 
sounds  and  their  signs  may  be  roughly  repre- 
sented as  follows  :  — 


a% 


an 


In  both  of  these,  the  intermediate  form  alone 
is  conjectural  ;  and,  for  that  matter,  the  inter- 
mediate forms  of  the  sounds  too  are  of  course 
conjectural.  Moreover,  the  conjectured  liga- 
tures are  such  as  would  be  perfectly  natural 
and  are  in  character  identical  with  other  runic 
blendings. 

At  first  thought  one  might  expect  that  as  a 
new  character  arose  it  would  get  the  new 
name.  On  the  contrary  the  old  name  in  each 
case  went  to  the  new  rune,  and  this  for  the 
simple  reason  that  the  sound  of  the  vowel  in 
the  old  name  resembled  that  represented  by  the 
new  rune  more  than  it  did  that  from  which  the 
latter  was  differentiated,  and  which  was  thus 
left  to  get  a  name  beginning  with  its  sound. 
That  '  aesc  '  was  chosen  was  natural  :  in  the 
first  place,  the  number  of  simple  nouns  begin- 
ning with  this  sound  was  limited,  and  the  in- 
fluence of  the  runic  names  'beorc,'  '  cen,'  and 
'porn  '  is  obvious.  But  f;  did  not  get  its  new 
name  until  it  ceased  to  represent  both  long 
and  short  a  and  stood  for  ^  only,  being  thus 
recognized  as  a  rune  distinct  from  j^  ,to  which 
it  resigned  the  old  name  'ans'  or  'ans.'  When 
this  name  became  'as'  and  so  no  longer  re- 
presented the  sound  of  ^  ,  it  became  associ- 
ated, as  shown  above,  with  the  new  character 
f£  ,  andfi"  was  named  'ac.'  The  choice  of  a 
name  with  d<a%  was  not  due  to  the  origin  of 
K  in  p|  (which  must  have  been  quite  out  of 

3  The  oldest  inscription  I  know  with  the  new  sign  for  a 
is  that  on  the  Lancaster  cross  (Stephens  ii,  375  ;  iii,  184), 
which  presents  a  form  (fiJ  )  very  similar  to  the  ligature  con- 
jectured by  me  above.  Another  very  old  inscripton,  that  on 
the  Whitby  comb  (Stephens  iii,  180),  has  f5£  . 


mind),  but  to  the  almost  absolute  lack  of 
nouns  beginning  with  stressed  a  and  to  the 
analogy  of  '  aesc,' '  beorc,'  'cen,'  and  'porn.' 
Disregarding  the  conjectured  forms  the  chief 
stages  may  be  represented  as  follows : — 


F 

a  a 


[M] 
UiJ 


'ans  ' 


aesc 


ad 
ans 


a  a 
'ac' 


(SJ 
H 

fF+l 

(an) 


o  o 
offil' 


o  o 

'  6s  ' 

GEORGE  HEMPL. 


University  of  Michigan. 


ENGLISH  LEXICOGRAPHY. 

ON  page  vi  of  the  introduction  to  A  New 
English  Dictionary  on  Historical  Principles 
edited  by  James  A.  H.  Murray,  the  following 
is  said  in  regard  to  its  aims  : 

"The  aim  of  this  Dictionary  is  to  furnish  an 
adequate  account  of  the  meaning,  origin,  and 
history  of  English  words  now  in  general  use, 
or  known  to  have  been  in  use  at  any  time 
during  the  last  seven  hundred  years.  It  en- 
deavours (i)  to  show,  with  regard  to  each  in- 
dividual word,  when,  how,  in  what  shape,  and 
with  what  signification,  it  became  English  ; 
what  development  of  form  and  meaning  it  has 
since  received,  which  of  its  uses  have,  in  the 
course  of  time,  become  obsolete,  and 'which 
still  survive,  what  new  uses  have  since  arisen, 
by  what  processes  and  when  :  (2)  to  illustrate 
these  facts  by  a  series  of  quotations  ranging 
from  the  first  known  occurrence  of  the  word 
to  the  latest,  or  down  to  the  present  day  ;  the 
word  being  thus  made  to  exhibit  its  own  his- 
tory and  meaning " 

There  are  two  ways  open  by  which  this- aim 
can  be  reached  :  the  one  lies  through  the  un- 
limited field  of  literature,  the  other  is  to  be 
found  in  lexicographic  works  of  the  last  three 
centuries.  The  editors  of  the  Dictionary  have 
expended  a  vast  amount  of  labor  and  used  all 


176 


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354 


reasonable  efforts  to  obtain  complete  and  ac- 
curate results  from  the  collaboration  of  hun- 
dreds of  literary  readers.  But  not  the  same 
care  has  been  bestowed  by  them  on  the 
perusal  of  old  dictionaries  and  phrase  books, 
and  the  treatment  of  a  large  class  of  words 
betrays  an  oversight  of  early  English  lexicog- 
raphy. It  almost  seems  as  though  the  editors 
had  courted  a  negligent  eclecticism  and  wilful 
disregard  of  method. 

Among  the  old  dictionaries  very  frequently 
quoted  by  Murray  are  Huloet,  Cockeram, 
Blount,  Phillips,  Coles.  A  few  words  in  re- 
gard to  each  of  them  are  necessary,  before 
the  confusion  in  the  Dictionary  can  be  pointed 
out. 

Huloet 's  Abecedarian  anglico-latinum  ap- 
peared in  1552,  and  marks  the  beginning  of 
English  lexicography.  There  had,  indeed, 
been  printed  wordbooks  before,  but  their 
arrangement  and  general  treatment  are  such 
as  not  to  deserve  our  further  consideration. 
In  1572  an  improved  edition  of  it  appeared 
under  the  title  :  Hvloets  Dictionarie,  newelye 
corrected,  amended,  set  in  order  and  enlarged, 
with  many  names  of  Men,  Townes,  Beastes, 
Foules,  Fishes,  Trees,  Shrubbes,  Herbes, 
Fruites,  Places,  Instrumentes  etc.  And  in 
eche  place  fit  Phrases,  gathered  out  of  the  best 
Latin  Authors.  Also  the  French  therevnto 
annexed,  by  which  you  may  finde  the  Latin 
or  Frenche,  of  anye  Englishe  woorde  you 
will.  By  John  Higgins  late  student  in  Oxe- 
forde. 

It  is  a  vast  improvement  on  Huloet,  hav- 
ing been  carried  out  with  greater  exactness. 
Wherein  the  improvement  consists  we  readily 
glean  fro,m  the  address  to  the  reader: 

"  At  first  I  toke  this  worke  of  Maister  Huloets 
in  hande  (gentle  Reader)  onelye  to  enlarge, 
and  when  1  had  herein  passed  some  paineful 
time,  I  perceyued  it  almost  a  more  easye 
matter  to  make  new,  then  to  amende :  for 
there  were  many  such  woordes,  as  eyther 
serued  not  for  the  matter,  or  were  out  of  vse 
....  such  woordes  as  were  not  sufficient  (by 
consent  of  authoritye)  I  eyther  displaced,  and 
put  farre  better  in  their  roumes,  or  if  they 
were  doubtfull,  confirmed  by  sclender  au- 
thority, or  els  serued  the  place  but  not  so 

fitlye,  I  gave  them  an.  asteriske And 

for  ye  better  attayning  to  the  knowledge  of 
words,  I  went  not  to  the  comon  Dictionaries 
only,  but  also  to  the  authors  themselues,  and 


vsed  therein  conference  with  them  which 
wrote  particularly  of  such  things,  as  ye  place 
requyred  ....  and  finallye  I  wrote  not  in  the 
whole  booke  one  quyre,  without  perusinge 
and  conference  of  many  authors." 

Huloet's  and  Higgins's  dictionaries  are  only 
incidentally  valuable  as  lexicographical  ma- 
terial, since  both  directed  their  main  attention 
to  Latin,  while  Higgins  also  attempted  to 
create  a  French  wordbook  for  English  stu- 
dents. 

In  1616  Dr.  Bullokar  published  a  small  dic- 
tionary in  which  English  words  are  explained 
in  English,  and  thus  laid  the  foundation  for 
English  dictionaries.  His  Expositor  does  not 
seem  to  have  had  much  popularity,  although 
an  enlarged  edition  of  it  appeared  as  late  as 
1719.  Seven  years  later  appeared  Cockeram's 
dictionary  which  bears  the  following  title  :  The 
English  Dictionarie;  or  an  Interpreter  of 
hard  English  words.  Enabling  as  zvell  Ladies 
and  Gentlewomen,  young  Schollers,  Clarkes, 
Merchants,  as  also  Strangers  of  any  Nation, 
to  the  vnderstanding  of  the  more  difficult 
Authors  already  printed  in  our  Language, 
and  the  more  speedy  attaining  of  an  elegant 
perfection  of  the  English  tongue,  both  in 
reading,  speaking  and  writing.  Being  a  col- 
lection of  some  thousands  of  words,  neuer 
published  by  any  heretofore.  By  H.  C.  Gent. 
London,  1623.  It  consists  of  two  parts.  The 
first  "  hath  the  choicest  words  themselues  now 
in  vse,  wherewith  our  language  is  inriched 
and  become  so  copious,  to  which  words  the 
common  sense  is  annexed."  The  second 

"containes  the  vulgar  words,  which  whenso- 
euer  any  desirous  of  a  more  curious  explana- 
tion by  a  more  refined  and  elegant  speech 
shall  looke  into,  he  shall  there  receiue  the 
exact  and  ample  word  to  expresse  the  same." 

Cockeram's  dictionary  thus  becomes  a  valu- 
able source  of  information  in  regard  to  words 
that  were  commonly  used,  and  those  that 
were  affected  by  the  learned.  In  addition  to 
these  categories,  he  claims  to  give  the  "mocke 
words  which  are  ridiculously  vsed  in  our 
language"  and  the  "fustian  termes,  vsed  by 
too  many  who  study  rather  to  bee  heard 
speake,  than  to  vnderstand  themselues." 
Among  the  several  poems  addressed  to  Cocke- 
ram in  the  introduction  there  are  three  by  the 
dramatists  Ford,  Day  and  Webster,  all  of 


177 


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356 


whom  praise  highly  his  performance.  Day 
says  of  him:  "Of  a  rough  speech  th'ast 
taught  vs  all  to  speake  a  perfect  language," 
while  Ford  acknowledges  his  indebtedness  to 
Cockeram's  dictionary  and  claims  that  it  has 
gained  for  the  latter  a  fame  "  by  paths  of  Art, 
vntrod  before."  This  important  work,  which 
had  drawn  its  information  from  the  best  of 
sources  and  in  turn  had  served  the  leading 
dramatists  of  his  time  for  a  guide,  was  re- 
printed in  an  improved  form  in  1626  and 
reached  a  twelfth  edition  in  1670. 

Blount's  Glossographia  appeared  in  1656. 
As  its  title  indicates,  it  is  "  interpreting  all 
such  hard  words  of  whatsoever  language,  now 
used  in  our  refined  English  tongue,"  and  was 
intended  to  be  "  very  useful  for  all  such  as 
desire  to  understand  what  they  read."  From 
his  sober.unaffected  introduction  to  the  reader, 
we  learn  that  he  had  collected  material  for 
more  than  twenty  years,  ransacking  books  of 
all  descriptions  and  collecting  words  used  by 
the  different  trades. 

"  Nay,  to  that  pass  we  are  now  arrived,  that 
in  London  many  of  the  Tradesmen  have  new 
Dialects ;  the  Cook  asks  you  what  Dishes  you 
will  have  in  your  Bill  of  Fare;  whether  Olio's, 
Bisques,  Hachies,  Omelets,  Bouillon's,  Gril- 
liades,  Joncadcs,  Fricasses;  with  a  Houtgoust, 

Ragovst,   etc The   Shoo-maker    will 

make  you  Boots,  Whols-Chase,  Demi- Chase, 
or  Bottines?  etc." 

He  gives  only  such  law  terms  as  he  "  thought 
necessary  for  every  gentleman  of  Estate  to 
understand ;  "  he  proceeds  in  the  same  way 
with  words  referring  to  the  sciences  and  arts, 
being  careful  not  to  give  more  than  is  abso- 
lutely necessary.  He  avoids 

"  Poetical  Stories,  as  much  as  I  could,  since 
they  are  not  necessary  to  be  understood  by 

the  generality I  have  likewise  in  a  great 

measure,  shun'd  the  old  Saxon  words ;  as 
finding  them  growing  every  day  more  obsolete 
then  other.  .  .  .  Yet  even  such  of  those,  as  I 
found  still  in  use,  are  not  here  omitted." 

i  Under  bottlne  Murray  gives:  "Adopted  in  Sc.  in  i6c., 
and  independently  in  Eng.  in  igth.''  This  is  a  strange  state- 
ment in  the  face  of  Blount's  remark.  In  the  dictionary 
Blount  gives;  " bottne  (Fr.),  a  Buskin  or  Summer  Boot;  we 
otherwise  call  them  Boots  with  quarters,  which  have  strings 
and  no  Spurs,  but  a  heel  like  a  shoo  on  the  out-side." 
Stranger  yet!  The  word  runs  through  Phillips  and  Coles. 
Demi-Chase  is  not  at  all  given  in  Murray. 


So  careful  is  Blount  in  the  selection  of  his 
vocabulary  that  he  would  not  risk  recom- 
mending neologisms  by  introducing  them  in 
his  dictionary:  "to  many  of  which  I  have 
added  the  authors'  names,  that  I  might  not  be 
thought  to  be  the  Innovator  of  them."  While 
perusing  the  lexicographic  works  of  his  pre- 
decessors, he  has 

"taken  nothing  upon  trust,  which  is  not  au- 
thentick ;  yet  should  not  1  thus  adventure  to 
make  it  publick,  but  that  it  also  had  the 
perusal  and  approbation  of  some  very  Learned, 
and  my  Noble  Friends." 

This  remarkable  book  which  "  is  chiefly 
intended  for  the  more-knowing  Women,  and 
less-learned  Men"  appeared  in  a  second  edi- 
tion "more  correct;  wherein  above  five  hun- 
dred choice  words  are  added  "  in  1661 ;  other 
editions  followed  it  in  quick  succession,  that 
of  1681  being  the  fifth. 

Two  years  after  the  first  appearance  of 
Blount's  Glossographia,  Phillips  published  his 
New  World  of  Words  which  contains  a  much 
larger  vocabulary  than  the  work  of  any  of  his 
predecessors.  His  dictionary,  however,  lacks 
originality  being  the  result  of  a  series  of  ill 
digested  plagiarisms.  Later  on  he  surrepti- 
tously  copied  Blount's  Dictionary  of  Law- 
terms,  and  his  Latin  dictionary  rests  entirely 
upon  John  Milton's  Thesaurus.  In  1673  Blount 
scourged  him  in  his  A  World  of  Errors  in  a 
World  of  Words,  and  in  the  introduction  to 
Coles'  dictionary  a  few  of  his  most  glaring 
mistakes  are  shown  up,  such  as  his  identify- 
ing contemptible  with  contemptuous,  ingenious 
with  ingenuous  and  a  "thousand  more  such, 
which  simple  Children  would  be  apt  to  con- 
tradict, but  Men  of  Judgement  (for  whom  they 
were  not  writ)  know  where  the  mistake  might 
lie."  In  1778,  that  is  two  years  after  Coles' 
first  edition,  there  appeared  a  much  enlarged 
fourth  edition  of  A  New  World  of  Words, 
but  the  mistakes  are  not  eradicated ;  there 
were  many  more  editions  of  this  dictionary, 
but  they  do  not  interest  us  here. 

In  1776  appeared  An  English  Dictionary 
explaining  the  difficult  Terms  that  are  used 
in  Divinity,  Husbandry,  Physick,  Phylosophy, 
Law,  Navigation,  Mathematicks,  and  other 
Arts  and  Sciences.  Containing  many  thou- 
sands of  Hard  Words  (and  proper  names  of 


178 


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358 


Places)  more  than  are  in  any  other  English 
Dictionary  or  Expositor  .  .  .  .  by  E.  Coles, 
School- Master  and  Teacher  of  the  Tongue  to 
Foreigners.  It  is  a  careful  digest  of  "the 
whole  succession  from  Dr.  Bulloker  to  Dr. 
Skinner,  from  the  smallest  volume  to  the 
largest  folio,"  and  contains  a  great  deal  of 
additional  matter,  the  number  of  words  "be- 
ing raised  from  seven  in  th'  Expositor  (Bullo- 
kar's  dictionary)  to  almost  thirty  thousand 
here."  An  unaltered  second  edition  was 
published  in  1677,  others  following  in  rapid 
succession.  Coles  published  in  the  same  year 
an  English-Latin  Dictionary,  the  English  vo- 
cabulary of  which  is  entirely  drawn  from  his 
English  Dictionary ;  it  enjoyed  great  popu- 
larity and  reached  an  eighteenth  edition  in 
1772. 

It  is  the  chief  duty  of  an  historical  dictionary 
to  quote  first  editions  of  lexicographic  works, 
and  in  the  case  of  words  found  in  later  edi- 
tions, to  give  the  first  of  a  series  of  editions 
containing  such  words.  Thus  only  do  we  get 
a  more  approximate  date  for  the  first  use  of 
words  that  cannot  otherwise  be  ascertained. 
This  principle  has  been  grossly  violated  by 
Murray.  Cockeram's  edition  of  1626  is  gen- 
erally quoted,  although  some  words,  like 
alopicke,  alueated,  alutation,  excelcity  are 
quoted  from  the  first  edition,  while  others, 
like  essuriate,  excreate,  exdecimate  give  both 
1623  and  1626 ;  none  of  the  later  editions  are 
mentioned.2 

Blount  is  quoted  in  his  first  1656  edition ;  a 
number  of  words  are  mentioned  under  1681, 
such  as  coangustation,  collectititious,  apornel, 
while  in  a  few  cases,  such  as  crabbat,  curvous, 
dapocaginous,  denticle,  the  date  1674  (4th 
edition)  is  given.  In  other  cases  we  find  the 
compound  1656-1681  which  evidently  means 
only  these  two 'dates,  for  nowhere  do  we  come 
across  the  important  1661  editions  in  which  all 
these  words  are  to  be  found.  Phillips  and 
Coles  are  generally  quoted  in  much  later  edi- 
tions than  the  first  occurrence  of  the  words. 

Much  more  serious  are  the   omissions    of 

a  Under  atlecticke,  abli^urie,  abloctte,  abrodittical  and 
many  other  words  we  find  Cockeram  1613  1  what  does  that 
mean  ? 

3  Only  once,  under  crisotn  calf  we  find  Blount  1661,  but 
unfortunately  the  word  is  not  in  Blount  1661. 


first  quotations  from  these  easily  accessible 
sources.  In  Huloet  (1572)  the  following  words 
occur  that  are  marked  in  Murray  as  of  a  later 
date :  alecost  (1589),  adourne  (—a  banquette, 
ac cousirer  vn  banquet; — shippes,  naves  expe- 
dire,  1589),  blowbottle  (1580),  bodkyn  (1580, 
Baret  copied  the  explanation  of  the  last  two 
words  from  Huloet),  clacke  (rattell  that  chil- 
dren vse  to  play  withall.  Claquette,  1611), 
endamagement  (1593),  exulceratorie  (1727),  ex- 
ulcerated*  (1576),  fabulosity  (1599). 

In  Cockeram  (1623)  the  following  are  found  : 
abequitdte  (1627),  ablepsie  (1652),  compaginate 
(1648),  efflagitate  (1641),  emarginate  (1656), 
equilibrity  (1644),  ereption  (1633),  evitation 
(1626),  cxacuate  (1632),  extruction  (1652). 

Much  larger  is  the  number  of  words  that 
are  mentioned  as  of  a  later  date  than  1661, 
although  they  are  to  be  found  in  Blount's 
second  edition:  abnodate  (1721),  absentaneous 
(1721),  actitation  (1742),  adagial  (1677),  adoni- 
que  (1678),  amict  (in  the  sense  of  'amice,' 
1753),  anteact  (1721),  apepsie  (1678),  apian 
,  (1862),  apollinean  (1663),  atrabilarie  (16725), 
i  aulic  (1701),  aurist  (1678),  autarchy  (1691),  be- 
lage  (1678),  bovicide  (1678),  bourgeoisie  (1707), 
caret  (1716),  cervine  (1832),  cessor  (a  loyterer, 
1727),  charientione  (1709),  circensial  (1682), 
cronie  (1665),  cucurbite  (a  gourd,  1866),  curvous 
(1674),  dapocaginous  (1674),  denary  (of  or  con- 
taining ten,  1848),  dendrology  (1708),  effluent 
(1726),  electoral  (1675),  electrine(i(>Tj),  elenctic 
(1833),  embeuchement  (1844),  emendals  (1692), 
engyscope  (1684),  epithalamize  (1802),  epulary 
(1678),  epulosity  (1731),  epulous  (1692),  Eras- 
tianism  (1681),  eriferous  (1681),  eristics  (1866), 
erumnate  (1692). 

The  following  are  a  few  of  the  words  given 
in  Coles  1677  (identical  with  1676)  edition : 
adenfr  (1708),  advowee  (1691),  Agonizant(\Tii)t 
altimetrical  (\(&i)t  ampelite*>  (1751),  anauntrins 
(1691),  astrobolism  (1721),  balneatory  (1731), 
bedrawled(\72\),  betty  (1700),  biga  (1850),  bluf- 
fer (1721),  brassefi  (1751),  cameral  (1762),  co- 
angustation  (1681),  coker  (1690),  colibert  (1708), 
collectitious  (1681),  combinational  (1681),  com- 
Perendination  (1678),  compromisorial  (1681), 

4  A*lso  given  in  Huloet  1553. 

5  Here  and  under  utti^uaus  bac  Murray  quotes  Coles  1672; 
there  is  no  such  edition  t 


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360 


contemeration*  (1692),  cremaster  (1678),  cucul- 
lated*  (1737)- 

Where  such  negligence  is  shown  in  noting 
dates  of  first  occurrences,  it  is  but  natural  to 
find  missing  many  important  words.  In  the 
following  lists  hundreds  of  words,  against 
which  any  other  than  an  Historical  Dictionary 
could  raise  even  a  shadow  of  an  objection,  are 
omitted  purposely  ;  for  example,  Murray  does 
not  give  Anakim,  although  it  is  to  be  found  in 
all  of  the  old,  and  some  of  the  new,  diction- 
aries. This,  which  in  the  phrase  of  Tennyson's 
"I  felt  the  thews  of  Annakim,"  is  a  good 
literary  word,  has  been  no  doubt  ostracized 
by  Murray  on  the  ground  that  it  partakes  of 
the  nature  of  a  proper  noun.  Furthermore, 
that  no  suspicion  of  captious  criticism  may 
fall  on  the  writer  of  this  article,  the  words  in 
Huloet  and  Cockeram  are  given  with  their 
original  explanations,  while  in  a  few  cases  ety- 
mological and  other  notes  are  added  in  order 
to  forestall  any  accusation  of  arbitrariness  in 
those  old  lexicographers.  In  giving  etymolo- 
gies and  the  semasiology  of  words,  recourse 
ought  to  be  generally  taken  to  lexicographies 
of  contemporaries,  however  faulty  they  may 
be,  as  their  very  faulty  ideas  about  Latin  or 
French  words  may  frequently  explain  the 
origin  of  meanings  in  their  English  form. 
This  rule  has  not  been  adhered  to  by  the 
Historical  Dictionary. 

The  following  words,  though  given  in  Hu- 
loet's   1572  edition,   are  not  to  be  found   in 
Murray : 
ABHOMINED.?  Fastiditus.   Abhomine,  deteste. 

First  quot.  in  Murray  under  abomine  is 

1683. 
ABSOYLER,  any  thing  that  deliuereth  a  man, 

the  remedy.     Absolutorium.     Remede 

qui  deliure,  deliurance. 
ADUAUNCED7  in  stomake  as  properly  to  have 

a  proud  stomake.    Elatus,  Hault. 
ADUAUNCING  and  hautenes.    Fastus  .  .  .  Ela- 

tio  .  .  .  .  Haultenete. 
AFFECTUOUSSE7  .  .  .  Voluptabilis  . . .  Plaisant. 

Adonne  a  ses  plaisirs  mondains. 
AMBULATORIE,?  or  ouermoste  parte  of  a  wall, 

within  the  battlementes  where  men  may 

6  Found  even  earlier  in  Phillip's  first  edition  1658;  a  few 
others  are  found  in  later  editions,  though  preceding  Coles^ 
but  1  have  not  marked  them  down. 


walke.  Procestrium.  Du  Cange  gives 
under  ambulatorium  :  "Est  etiam  peda- 
tura  murorum,  seu  moenium  itsptTtaroS 
.  .  .  nostris  Rempart"  Earliest  quot. 
in  Murray  is  1623,  nor  is  this  specific 
meaning  given. 

AMPULLY,  largely,  nobly,  with  great  magnifi- 
cence. Probably  only  another  spelling 
for  amply,  but  compare  ampullous, 
proud,  in  Florio  (1598)  and  in  Du  Cange, 
where  superbus,  Prov.  ergulhos  is  given 
for  it. 

BEDLEM  BODY.?  Lymphaticus.  Furieux,  hors 
du  sens. 

BEES  MEATE.7  or  huny  sucle.  Cerinthe.  Herbe 
nomme  Paquette. 

CARME,?  a  tree  which  the  Frenchmen  call 
Carpie.  Carpinus.  Vne  sorte  d'arbre 
Carmie  ou  charme.  Boyer  translates 
charme  by  '  yoke  elm.' 

CHAUMFERY,  or  a  rabbat.  Stria.  Chaufrein 
creux. 

CHAUMFREY,  or  to  make  foorowes  all  a  longe 
on  a  pyller  of  stone,  to  wrynkle. 

CREPPLE  ROUFFE.7  Interpensiua.  Holyoke 
gives  for  interpersiva :  "Certain  pieces 
of  timber,  cloven  boards  or  stones, 
which  are  set  in  from  the  corners  of  the 
wall,  to  conveigh  rain  water  in  spouts." 
Cf.  criplings  in  Phillips:  "short  spars 
on  the  side  of  a  house,"  and  Boyer  gives 
for  this:  "  solives,  pieux."  Neither 
crepple  rouffe  nor  cripling  is  in  Murray. 

CYME. 7  Cement,  or  cyme,  wherewith  stones 
be  ioyned  together  in  a  lumpe.  Du 
Cange  gives  under  cimentum  :  "  Chime, 
pro  Ciment,  Arenatum,  in  Charta  Petri 
etc.  .  .  ." 

ENDAMAGEABLE  (misprint  endamagable},  or 
hurtefull,  Damnosus,  Detrimentosus  .  .  . 
Dommageable.  Murray  gives  the  earli- 
est quot.  from  Webster  1864  with  the 
meaning  of  '  capable  of  receiving  dam- 
age; perishable.'  Also  found  in  Holyoke. 

EUESING,?  or  cues  setting  or  trimming.  Sub- 
grundatio.  This  meaning  is  not  given 
in  Murray. 

FANTASIED,?  or  fantasyinge,  or  hauing  mynde 
to  a  thing.  Animatus.  The  nearest 

7  Also  given  in  Huloet  1552. 


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362 


approach  to  this  meaning  in  Murray  is 
a  quot.  from  1883,  explained  as  '  whim- 
sical.' 
The  number  of  words  omitted  from  Cocke- 

ram's  1623  edition  is  alarmingly  large  : 

ABACTED.  Caried  away  by  violence.  Given 
in  BJount  (who  adds :  '  or  stealth ;  also 
deposited,')  Coles,  Holyoke  and  Little 
ton,  none  of  whom  mark  it  obsolete.  It 
is  incomprehensible  why  this  should  be 
omitted  in  Murray,  when  abaction  and 
abac  tor  are  mentioned. 

ADOLESCENTURATE  To  play  the  boy,  or  foole. 
Cf.  Du  Cange  adolescentiari,  ve.avi&iv 
.  .  .  adolescentum  more  agere. 

ADRUMINGE.  Churlish.  Adraming  in  Phillips 
('  old  word  ')  and  Cole  (obs.).  Probably 
a  participle  of  the -OF.  verb  aramir, 
arramir.  In  Godefroy  the  meanings : 
fort,  violent,  redoutable  ;  rude,  sauvage, 
are  given  for  aranti,  and  Du  Cange 
gives  copious  quotations  for  adramire. 

AENEATOR.  A  trumpeter.  Given  in  Cole.  It 
has  the  same  meaning  in  Latin  (Sue- 
tonius). 

AMALTHEAN  HORNE.  Plenty  of  all  things. 
In  Blount  (with  a  full  explanation  of  the 
origin  of  the  word),  Phillips,  Cole. 

AMATRIX.  A  shee-paramour.  If  advocatrix, 
executrix  are  given  in  Murray,  why  not 
amatrix  f 

AMONISCORNE.  A  gemme  of  a  gold  colour 
like  a  Rams  home,  which  causeth  one 
to  dreame  true  things.  It  is  evidently 
one  with  the  Ammon's  horn. 

AMIT.    To  send  away.     Cole:    to   lose,    to  • 
pardon. 

ANTILOGOMENES.    Contradictions. 

ASSEDILIE.  A  bishops  pue.  Cf.  Du  Cange: 
assidua,  pars  interior  aedis  sacrae  ubi 
altare  collocatum  est,  and  absida,  in- 
terdum  pro  Episcopali  sede,  quod  in 
medio  Absidae  collocari  soleret. 

ATRICKE.  An  Vsher  of  a  Hall.  Given  in 
Phillips  and  Cole.  Formed  from  Lat. 
atrium,  butcf.  Godefroy  aitre,  atre,  etc., 
portique,  porche. 

BLEPHARON  (misp.  blephoron)  one  having 
great  browes  and  eye  lids.  In  Blount, 
Phillips,  Cole. 

BOCCONIE.      Payson  or  Italian  rigs.    Blount 


gives:  boccone  (Ital.),  a  morsel,  a  good 
bit  ;  sometimes  taken  for  poison.  Also 
in  Phillips  and  Cole.  So,  too,  Petr6cchi 
gives  for  boccone  pillola  velenosa,  in 
addition  to  the  usual  meaning. 

CAELEB.    A  batchellor. 

CANNITICKE  HOUSES.    Thetched  houses. 

CASTALIDES.    The  surname  of  the  Muses. 

CERICEAN.  A  subtle  knaue.  Evidently  mis- 
spelled for  ceracean  and  of  the  same 
origin  as  ceratine  (argument  of  the 
horns). 

CIMBICKE.  A  misard,  or  niggard.  In  Phillips 
and  Cole.  Du  Ganges  gives  :  cimbices, 
minima  quaeque  plurimi  facientes,  apud 
Sussannaeum  in  Vocabulario,  a  Groeco 
xinftys,  sordidus,  tenax  et  plus  aequo 
parcus. 

CLYNOPALY.  Ouermuch  lechery.  In  Blount 
and  Cole.  Lat.  clinopale  from  Greek 


CREDITOR-CRAZD.    Banquerout. 

CYRNE.     A  goblet  to  drinke  wine  in.     From 

Lat.  cirnea,  if  not  related  to  Eng.  churn. 
DARDANAR.     A  forstaller.  Du  Cange  gives: 

Dardanarii,  Seplasiarii,  Pantoplae,  etc., 

from    which    the    English    meaning    is 

easily  developed. 
DEDOCEAT.    To  teach  or  instruct. 
DEFOMICATE.     To  chip  bread,  or  so.     Du 

Cange  gives  :  Defomare,  circum  secare, 

dolare,  etc. 
EBRIOLATE.    Tomakedrunke.  .Littleton  gives 

a    Lat.    verb    ebriolare,    and    an    adj. 

ebriolatus. 
ECASTOR.     By  my  fay.     Murray  quotes  Cocke- 

ram's  e  easterly  but  not  ecastor. 
ECCLESIASTICUS.     Of,    or   belonging     to    a 

preacher.     It  is  not  likely  that  we  have 

here  some  misprint,  since  the  word  is 

preceded  by  Ecclesiasticke,  a  preacher, 

and  ecclesiasticall,  of  or  belonging  to 

the  Church. 
EDECIMATE.    To  chuse  out  the  tenth  man. 

Murray  has  edecimation,  but  not  edeci- 

mate. 
EDOCTRINATION.     A  teaching.     Murray    has 

edoctrinate,  but  not  edoctrination. 
EDORMIATE.    To  sleep  out  ones  fill. 
EDURATE.    To  harden. 
EMDELUGED.    Drowned. 


181 


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364 


EMULCT.    Milked. 

ENDROMITE.  An  Irish(?)  mantle,  or  some 
winter  garment.  Blount,  Phillips  and 
Cole  have  endromick  with  the  same 
meaning;  Blount,  however,  does  not 
say  '  Irish.'  Cf.  endroma,  endromes  in 
Du  Cange. 

EPHEBEAN.  One  marriageable  at  fifteene 
years.  Murray  gives  the  earliest  quot. 
for  ephebe  from  1697,  whereas  Blount, 
Phillips  and  Cole  give :  ephiby  a  strip- 
ling. 

EPICARPEAN.    A  fruit  keeper. 

EPIGAMIE.  An  affinitie  by  Marriage.  In 
Blount  and  Cole. 

EPIOEDEAN  SONG.  A  song  sung,  ere  the  corps 
bee  buried. 

EQUESTER.  A  place  where  men  may  sit  to 
see  plays.  Littleton  :  equcstria,  places 
or  seats  in  the  theatre  for  the  gentry  to 
sit  in  and  see  shows  and  plays. 

EQUIMENT.  Wages  for  horse-hire.  Little- 
ton :  equimentum,  the  hire  of  a  stallion 
horse,  for  couering  or  leaping  a  mare. 

ERATED.     Coured  with  brasse. 

ERGASTER.    A  workhoure. 

ERGASTULE.    A  gayle. 

ERRUGE.  Rust.  In  Murray  cerugo  with  the 
first  date  1753  is  given. 

EUGENIE.  Nobleness.  In  Blount  (nobleness 
or  goodness  of  birth  or  blood),  Phillips, 
Cole. 

EURYBATIXISE.    To  steale  things  in  a  house. 

EXAGOGE.    Reuenue. 

EXANIATE.    To  squeeze. 

EXAREANATE.    To  wash  off  grauell,  or  sand. 

EXCANDENCIE  (misprint  excadencie).  Anger 
which  both  suddenly  cometh  and  goeth. 

EXCALPE.    To  ingraue. 

EXCOLETE.     "Decked. 

EXCORE.    To  flea,  or  skinne. 

EXDORSICATE.    To  breake  the  Backe  bone. 

EXOCULATE.    To  put  out  one's  eye. 
From  Blount's  second  edition  (the  first  is  at 

this  moment  not  accessible  to  me)  a  very  large 

number  of  words  is  wanting  ;  this  is  especially 

to  be  regretted  when  we  consider  the  extreme 

care  with  which  Blount  collected  his  words : 
Absolonism,  accomodatitious,  accort,8  acu- 

pictor,8  addomestique,  adecatist,  almadarats, 

alosha8     ambiloge,    Amphionize,    anity,    an- 


thime,  Antigonize,  antiprestigiation,  Apellean, 
appensor,  arbustine,  arseverse,  Artemisean,8 
asotus,8  astism,8  astroarch  (not  in  Phillips  or 
Coles),  attraits,8  bilinguis,8  bovillon,8  brian,8 
bruma,  bruyere,  campsor,  cathedrarious,  cath- 
olisation,  cenatical,  cenosity,  cepphic  (not  in 
Phillips  or  Coles),  ceromatick,8  certaminate, 
cesariated,  ceterious,  cindalism,  circiture,  cir 
cumstantibus,  circunvagant,  Cretan,  Cretical 
(the  last  two  not  in  Phillips  or  Coles),  crin- 
igerous,  curricurro,*  cynorexie,8  dabuze,8  de- 
arch,  demichace,  demonachation8  edisserator, 
egilopical,  elacerate,  embossement,8  ementi- 
tion,  enargy,  encheson,8  enthalamize,  en- 
theated,  enthysiasmical,  epigrammatographer, 
epiod,  epithemetical,  epostracism,  equidial, 
equorean,8  escambio,8  esopical,  estiferous,  ex- 
ercitate  (verb,  not  in  Phillips  or  Coles),  ex- 
harmonians  (not  in  Phillips  or  Coles),  exuge, 
falcator,  falouque.8 

The  following  are  a  few  that  are  given  in 
Coles  but  not  in  Murray  : 

Abderian,  abent,9  abettator,  abintestate,9 
Abram-Cove,  abric,  acaid,  accodrinc,  ace- 
phalic,9  acerate  (full  of  chaffe),  adarige, 
adashed,9  segroting,  affidatus,  Agathonian,9 
ale-silver,  amblothridium,9  anabrochism,  an- 
acrisis,  andena,  andrago,9  andromant,  an- 
tiaxiomatism,9  antipagments9  antipast,9  antis- 
toechon,  aqua  coelestis,9  arborancy,  ball- 
money,  bambalio,9  barfee,9  barcaria,  baude,9 
beau-pleading,9  bedelan,  belchier,9  bener, 
besca,  bigge  (pap  or  teat)  blakes,  blower 
(quean),  boa9  (swine  pox),  bostock,  bostal, 
borametsy,  boscaria,  bosinnus,  boveria,  bre- 
van,  busca,  cabanne,  chologogon,  chronodix,9 
chrysites,  circumfulgent,  clermatine,  ccenotes, 
colus,9  compar,  comparats,  concratitious,  con- 
ditor  (a  seasoner),  configulation,9  consputation,9 
corporeature,9  cosmodelyte,  cruental,  cullot.9 

It  is  a  disappointment  to  find  that  in  Murray 
a  majority  of  technical  terms  referring  to 
horsemanship  and  war  have  been  quoted  at 
second  hand  from  Bailey  and  Chambers,  the 
latter  of  whom  quotes  verbatim  et  literatim 
from  The  Gentleman's  Dictionary,  while  the 
first  makes  ill  disguised  literal  changes.  This 
classical  work  has  served  as  the  basis  of  some 

8  Also  given  in  Coles  1677. 

9  Found  earlier  in  Phillips  first  edition  (1658). 


182 


365 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


366 


military  dictionaries  even  incur  century;  its 
title  runs  as  follows  :  The  Gentleman' 's  Dic- 
tionary in  three  parts.  I,  The  Art  of  Riding 
the  great  Horse,  etc.  ...//,  The  Military  \ 
Art,  etc.  .  .  .  Ill,  The  Art  of  Navigation, 
etc.  .  .  .  Each  part  done  alphabetically  from 
the  sixteenth  edition  of  the  original  French, 
published  by  the  Sieur  Guillet,  and  dedicated 
to  the  Dauphin.  With  large  additions,  alter- 
ations and  improvements,  adapted  to  the  cus- 
toms and  actions  of  the  English,  and  above 
forty  curious  cuts,  that  were  not  in  the 
original.  London  1705. 

From  the  Publisher's  Preface  we  see  that 
the  English  terms  given  in  the  dictionary  are 
thoroughly  reliable  and  not  mere  imitations  of 
French  words  :  "  In  translating  this  part  (the 
first),  we  have  taken  care  to  do  justice  to  the 
French,  and  at  the  same  time  to  bring  it  as 
near  to  our  Jockey  Terms,  as  the  nature  of 
the  thing  would  allow."  In  the  following 
list  are  not  included  such  words  as  are  purely 
French  in  form,  although  some  of  them  no 
doubt  might  have  been  given  : 

abate  (1721),  action,1"  advance  fosse,10  aft- 
ward  (1867),  air,10  alarm  post  (1721),  anspesade 
(1751),  antestature  (1706),  apron  (1719),  appointe 
(1727),  arm  (1751),  armed,10  arzel,10  assembly 
(1727),  aubin  (1751),  bacule,10  balotade  (1727), 
bandeleer,10  banquet  (1753],  bar  (1753),  barbe,10 
barepump,10  barm  (1729),  barque-longue,10  bat- 
tery master,10  bean,10  beat  (1753),  biovac  (1706), 
bleyne,10  blossom,10  boar  (1731),  bouillon,10 
bout,10  boyau  (1847),  branch  (1838),  brassi- 
court,10  braye,10  breast,10  breastplate  (1720), 
breed,10  bridge,10  brigade  nlajor  (1810),  brillant 
(1731),  bring  in  (1753),  cadence  (Bailey),  calade 
(1731),  capesquare,10  capital  (1706),  carry  low,10 
carry  well  (1829),  cavin  (1708),  chack  (1731), 
chaufrin  (1730),  channel  (1753),  chapelet  (1753), 
chaperon,10  chevaler  (1753),  chevrette  (1731), 
clamponnier  (1731),  claye  (1708),  clift,10  close,10 
coffer  (1727),  coffin  bone  (1720),  complement 
(1708),  conductor  (1778),  cork,10  cornet  (in- 
correctly treated) ;  couched,10  countermarked 
(1727),  counterpoise  (1727),  crack, '°creat  (1730), 
eric  (1874?),  croat,10  cross,10  crowned, T°  crou- 
pade  (1849),  curb  (a  tumour),10  deceive,10 
demigorge  (1706),  ebrillade  (1753),  ecaves- 
sade,10  echarpe  (1772),  effect,10  embrace,10  em- 
patement,1®  enciente  (1708),  encraine  (1731), 


enfilade  (1706),  enlarge  (1753),  entrepas,10  en- 
velope (1707),  ergot  (Syd.  Soc.  Lex.),  estra- 
pade  (1730),  extend,10  face  of  a  place  (1727), 
face  of  a  gun  (1727),  falcade  (1730),  fanion 
(1706). 

It  is  to  be  sorely  regretted  that  the  Oxford 
Dictionary  does  not  incorporate  the  results  of 
a  thorough  study  of  the  old  dictionaries, 
cyclopedias  and  word  books. 

LEO  WIENER. 
Cambridge,  Mass. 


FINAL  -s  IN  GERMANIC. 

THE  theory,  revived  by  Hirt,  PBB.,  xviii,  5270"., 
that  in  West  Germ,  final  -s  as  well  as  -z  fell 
away,  seems  to  be  gaining  ground.  This  view 
is  favorably  received  by  Streitberg,  Urgerm. 
Gram..  §214.  This  I  consider  unproved  and 
improbable. 

The  state  of  the  case,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is 
this  :  Final  -s  very  often  became  -z  by  analogy, 
but  never  through  phonetic  change.  A  -z  thus 
arising  disappeared  in  W.  G.  the  same  as  an 
original  Germ.  -z. 

We  know  that  in  0-stems  in  Germ,  the  nom. 
sing,  should,  according  to  accent,  end  in  -azor 
-as.  As  a  matter  of  fact  we  have  no  evidence 
that  the  nom.  sing,  ever  ended  in  -as.  In 
O.N.  the  ending  is  uniformly  -r  or  its  equiva- 
lent, and  that,  too,  where  we  know  the  final  -s 
was  preceded  by  an  accent,  as  in  the  preterit 
participle.  Even  za-stems  in  O.N.  assumed  r 
in  the  nom.  sing.,  as  heidr.  That  the  same 
generalization  took  place  in  all  the  W.G.  dia- 
•  lects  cannot  be  affirmed  positively — unless  it 
is  proved  that  final  -s  remained — but  it  is 
highly  probable.  It  is  at  least  more  reason- 
able to  assume  such  a  generalization  than  to 
set  up  a  separate  phonetic  law  to  account  for 
the  disappearance  of  final  -s. 

In  the  nom.  plur.  there  was  a  singular  gen- 
eralization in  O.N.  In  the  W.  G.  dialects 
there  is  variation.  This  variation  is  more 
easily  explained  by  supposing  that  final  -s 
remains,  while  final  -z  falls  away,  than  to  as- 
sume that  final  -s  also  fell  away.  O.H.G.  tagd, 
then,  corresponds  to  O.N.  dagar,  Goth,  dagds, 
as  all  agree ;  while  O.S.  dagos,  O.E.  dagas 
may  well  represent  a  Germ,  ending  -os,  with- 

10  Not  given  in  Murray. 


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368 


out  resorting  to  a  comparison  with  the  Skt. 
devasas.  And  why  not  regard  the  O.Frs.  end- 
ing -ar  as  in  fiskar,  burar  as  transferred  from 
the  neuter  ^-sterns?  This  indeed  is  the  ex- 
planation of  Siebs,  Paul's  Grundriss,  i,  p.  762, 
though  he  confines  it  to  the  dialect  of  Wange- 
roog. 

The  question  naturally  arises  :  Why  did  not 
a  nom.  plur.  fern,  ending  -ds  develop  in  the 
same  way?  Why  not  O.S.  *gebos?  For  as 
Hirt,  PBB.,  xviii,  525,  thinks,  there  were  more 
a-  than  o-  stems  with  accented  ultima.  This 
is  not  a  matter  to  be  decided  by  counting. 
The  form  that  gains  the  ascendancy  in  a 
dialect  does  not  necessarily  represent  the 
majority.  If  it  did,  we  should  be  forced  to 
many  strange  conclusions.  On  the  supposi- 
tion that  O.  Frs.  fiskar  shows  an  ending  -dses, 
O.S.  dagos  an  ending  -dses,  and  O.H.G.  tagd 
the  ending  -oz  or  -ds,  we  should  be  driven  to 
an  absurdity  by  a  majority  rule.  For  reasons 
not  always  easily  accounted  for,  each  dialect 
went  its  own  way  and  made  its  own  choice. 
A  form  like  O.H.G.  zwd,  therefore,  does  not 
prove  that  an  -s  has  fallen  away,  since  we  may 
suppose  that  an  original  twds  first  became  by 
analogy  *twdz,  arid  then  zwd.  Otherwise, 
what  shall  we  say  about  O.N.  tuckr,  priri  Here 
if  anywhere,  as  Hirt,  PBB.,  xviii,  527,  remarks 
of  Goth,  twds,  O.H.G.  zwd,  the  s  should  have 
remained  surd.  But  it  did  not  in  O.N.  More 
than  that,  the  r  was  added  to  forms  where  it 
did  not  belong  originally,  as  tueir,  peir,  Goth. 
twai,  pai. 

From  Goth,  panzei,  hwanzuh  we  should 
infer  that  in  o-stems  the  ace.  plur.  ended  in 
-anz  and  not  -ans.  There  is  evidence  for  this 
also  in  the  other  dialects.  Many  see  in 
O.H.G.  ace.  plur.  taga,  O.S.  daga  the  repre- 
sentative of  Goth,  dagans,  on  the  supposition 
that  in  N.  and  W.G.  final  -ns  (-nz)  fell  away. 
So  Streitberg,  Urgerm.  Gram.,  p.  231.  This 
accounts  for  forms  that  otherwise  cause  diffi- 
culty. But  it  is  easier  to  assume  the  disap- 
pearance of  final  -nz  than  of  -ns.  For  if  -ns 
disappeared,  it  leaves  such  forms  as  uns,  gans 
to  be  explained.  If,  however,  final  -nz  fell  of, 
it  must  have  been  at  an  early  period— at  least 
before  the  syncope  of  i  or  a  in  the  third 
syllable.  For  while,  according  to  this  theory, 
Goth,  dagans  is  the  same  as  O.H.G.  taga ; 


Goth.  hanins<*haniniz,  gripan s < *gripanaz 
are  in  O.H.G.  hanen,  grifan.  From  O.N. 
hana  but  gripenn  it  would  seem  that  syncope 
took  place  earlier  in  *hananiz  than  in  *gri- 
panaz,  unless  with  Streitberg,  Urgerm.  Gram., 
p.  255,  footnote,  we  suppose  that  in  the  latter 
word  the  nom.  sing,  has  been  re-formed  from 
the  oblique  cases. 

In  whatever  way  taken  the  theory  of  the 
disappearance  of  final  -nz  has  its  difficulties. 
I  therefore  propose  this  formulation  of  it :  (i) 
In  N.  and  G.W.  final  -z  when  preceded  by  n 
fell  off.  This  occurred  at  an  early  period,  but 
later  than  the  change  of  the  ace.  sing.  *dagam 
to  *dagan.  The  ace.  plur.  *daganz>*dagan, 
we  may  suppose,  about  the  time  that  the  ace. 
sing,  had  reached  the  stage  *daga.  Later 
the  ace.  plur.  *dagan,  *sunun,  etc.,  became 
O.N.  daga,  sunu,  O.H.G.  taga,  *sunu  (cf.  situ), 
O.K.  sunu.  (2)  After  this  change  had  taken 
place.final  -z again  came  in  contact  with  n  in  the 
gen.  sing  of  «-stems,when  *hananiz*haniniz> 
*hanan,  *hanin.  This  stage  is  seen  in  Runic 
prawngan  and  in  the  Finnish  loanword  maan- 
antai.  As  final  -n  in  O.N.  disappears,  the  gen. 
sing,  became  hana.  In  W.G.  the  final  -n  of 
the  gen.  sing,  hanan,  hanen  remained.  In 
this  second  period,  therefore,  the  -«  in  W.G. 
was  protected  until  after  the  first  period,  when 
the  -n  was  subject  to  decay.  (3)  Unless  we  ex- 
plain the  pret.  part,  with  Streitberg  as  above, 
we  must  set  up  a  third  period  for  O.N.  on  ac- 
count of  Runic  haitinaR>Q.N.  heitenn.  But 
if  these  forms  are  to  be  judged  assteinn< 
stainaR,  skinn<*skinaR,  then  the  syncope 
occurred  at  a  time  when  R<z  was  assimila- 
able  to  n. 

In  the  other  stems  the  ending  of  the  gen. 
sing,  makes  less  noticeable  the  difference  in 
the  nom.  plur.,  where  O.S.  dagos,  O.K.  dagaS 
appear  strange  by  the  side  of  the  plur.  fem. 
geba,  giefa.  Now  've  find  that  the  ending  of 
the  gen.  sing,  in  N.  and  W.G.  is  -s  in  0-stems 
and  in  nouns  modeled  thereafter,  but  in  d- 
stems  and,  for  the  most  part,  in  other  stems 
it  is  -r  in  O.N.,  with  the  corresponding  ending 
in  W.G.  So  the  surprise  at  the  difference  in 
the  development  of  the  nom.  plur.  of  o-  and 
a-stems  in  O.S.  and  O.K.  need  not  be  so  great 
when  we  see  there  is  a  corresponding  differ- 
ence in  the  gen.  sing.  It  may  be  that  more 


184 


369 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


37° 


a-  than  o-stems  had  an  accented  ultima; 
but  the  invariable  -r  in  the  gen.  sing,  of  O.N. 
d-stems  together  with  the  constant  -s  of 
o-stems  does  not  point  that  way.  And  since 
N.  and  W.G.  agree  so  well  in  the  gen.  ending, 
we  may  conclude  that  G.W.  had  *dages  but 
*geb$z  corresponding  to  O.N.  dags  undgta/ar. 

The  ending  of  the  second  sing,  of  the  verb 
was  either  -z  or  -s  in  Germ.  It  would  properly 
be  -z  in  the  pres.  ind.  and  opt.  of  thematic 
verbs  of  the  normal  type,  and  -s  in  aorist- 
presents,  in  weak  verbs,  in  many  athematic 
verbs,  and  in  the  pret.  opt.  The  several 
dialects  have  generalized  in  different  ways,  or 
have  made  use  of  both  endings.  In  Goth, 
there  is  positive  evidence  only  for  -z.  In  O.N. 
-r  became  the  normal  ending  in  all  verbs, 
though  -s  is  found  in  some  earlier  forms.  In 
W.G.  there  was  originally  -J  and  -z,  but,  of 
course,  not  distributed  in  the  way  they  are 
found  in  the  monuments.  It  is  quite  probable 
that  the  -s  of  the  second  sing,  in  W.G.  spread 
from  a  comparatively  few  forms  where  it 
remained  after  most  of  the  verbs  had  genera- 
lized -z.  This  would  naturally  happen  when 
-z  fell  away,  for  then  there  would  remain  no 
second  sing,  ending  but  -s.  In  this  restoration 
the  -s  attached  itself  first  to  the  pres.  ind.  of 
those  verbs  that  had  not  retained  it.  Next  it 
went  to  the  pres.  opt.,  though  not  in  all 
dialects.  The  pret.  opt.  naturally  followed. 
In  O.K.  the  -s  was  confined  to  the  pres.  ind.  of 
strong  verbs  and  the  pres.  and  pret.  ind.  of 
weak  verbs.  In  the  other  W.G.  dialects  the 
-s  occurs  in  all  second  sing,  forms  except  the 
pret.  ind.  of  strong  verbs.  Here  it  was  not 
necessary  to  add  the  -s  to  distinguish  the 
second  sing,  from  the  other  forms.  Now  the 
fact  that  O.H.G.  has  -/in  the  third  sing,  is  of 
no  weight  in  judging  of  this  matter  :  for  gen- 
eralizations are  -not  always  consistent.  So 
while  the  -£  of  O.S.  bindid,  O.K.  bindefi  and 
of  O.S.,  O.K.  bindad  is  evidence  for  the 
originality  of  the  -s  of  O.S.  bindis,  O.K. 
bindes  ;  the  -/  of  O.H.G.  bintit  is  not  evidence 
that  the  -s  in  bintis  is  not  original.  That  is, 
the  -s  of  the  second  sing,  in  W.G.  arose  from 
-esi  just  as  certainly  as  the  -8  of  the  third 
sing,  in  O.S.  and  O.K.  started  from  verbs 
accented  -Hi. 

Moreover  this  -s  cannot  be  regarded  as  an 


assimilation  from  -z  due  to  the  appended  pro- 
noun />«,  as  some,  following  Paul,  PBB.  vi, 
549,  suppose.  For  if  Germ.  z-f>>O.H.G.  s-t, 
certainly  zd  would  yield  st,  since  d>t.  This 
is  what  actually  took  place  in  passing  from 
I.E.  to  Germ.  Here  may  be  mentioned  Goth. 
asts,  O.H.G.  geist,  gersta,  mast,  nest,  in  which 
st  comes  from  I.  E.  zd.  But  Goth.,  Germ. 
zd  always  gives  O.H.G.  rt,  O.E.  rd.  So 
Goth.  razda.O.H.G.  rarta,O.E.  reord;  O.H.G. 
brort,  O.E.  brord,  with  which  is  to  be  com- 
pared O.Ch.  Slav,  brazda  ;  Goth,  mizdd,  O.E. 
nieord.*  Germ,  zd  developed  thus  in  O.H.G. 
because  z  became  r  long  before  d  became  /. 
If  then  the  pronoun  f>u  had  been  joined  often 
enough  to  the  verb  to  cause  the  final  -z  to  be 
treated  as  medial,  it  would  have  given  rise  in 
W.G.  to  a  second  sing,  ending  in  -r,  the  -r  re- 
maining as  in  er,  wir,  ur-,  etc.  And  those 
holding  the  assimilation  -z-pu>-s-t  can  not  go 
back  to  the  I.E.  -s-tu  ;  for  certainly  the  con- 
tact was  no  closer  here  than  in  compounds 
of  ur,-  and  besides,  as  the  derivation  of 
thousand  <*tus-  kmt'ip-*  shows,  I.  E.  j-f-tenuis, 
when  brought  together  in  a  compound,  were 
not  protected  from  change  as  in  a  simple 
word. 

FRANCIS  A.  WOOD. 
Chicago. 


THE   HISTORY   OF  A    VULGARISM. 

THERE  survives  in  America  as  a  vulgarism  a 
sound  which  two  centuries  ago  was  a  common 
pronunciation.  This  pronunciation  is  not  con- 
fined to  any  one  district  as  the  South  or  the 
North,  but  may  be  heard  anywhere  through- 
out the  country,  in  the  mouths  of  the  unlet- 
tered. The  pronunciation  referred  to  is  the 
vulgar  sound  of  oi  in  such  words  as  appoint, 
poison,  join,  toil,  spoil,  coil,  boil,  etc.,  where 
the  diphthong  is  pronounced  so  as  to  rime 
with  long  i.  Now,  in  the  seventeenth  century 
this  was  an  accredited  pronunciation  as  we 
are  informed  by  the  orthoepists  of  that  cen- 
tury, and  this  information  is  confirmed  by  an 
examination  of  the  rimes  of  the  poets  of  that 
period  among  whom  the  more  prominent  are 

1  Brugmann,  Grundriss  i,  ^596. 

2  Brugmann,  ii,  3,  gi8o. 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


372 


Dryden  and  Pope.  Pope's  ear  was  early 
caught  by  the  musical  cadences  of  Dryden 's 
vigorous  verse  which  he  studied  assiduously, 
and  so  the  pronunciation  of  the  former,  though 
he  lived  into  the  fourth  decenniutn  of  the 
last  century,  was  practically  identical  with  that 
of  the  latter  (inasmuch  as  one's  pronunciation 
is  acquired  in  early  boyhood). 

An  examination  into  the  rimes  of  Dryden 
and  Pope  proves  conclusively  that  they  pro- 
nounced the  sound  in  question  precisely  as 
our  rustics  and  the  Irish  do.  This  statement 
•  is  made  advisedly,  for  the  language  of  the 
Irish  is  very  closely  related  to  that  of  our 
rustics,  as  any  one  may  see  who  will  reflect 
for  a  moment,  and  they  are  both  not  very  far 
removed  from  the  speech  of  Dryden  and 
Pope.  The  English  that  was  brought  to 
America  by  the  English  settlers  is  practically 
the  same  as  that  taken  to  Ireland,  for  both  of 
these  countries  were  settled  by  the  English 
about  the  same  time.  It  is  true  there  were 
early  settlements  in  Ireland  in  the  twelfth 
century  when  the  English  began  to  plant 
colonies  in  Forth  and  Bargay,  but  these  never 
flourished,  and  so  the  English  tongue  never 
gained  any  ground  on  Irish  soil.  But  in  the 
early  part  of  the  seventeenth  century  (1611) 
James  I  planted  colonies  in  the  northern  part 
of  Ireland,  in  Ulster,  and  in  1649  Cromwell 
invaded  the  country.1  Then  it  was  that  the 
English  language  found  its  way  thither  and 
gained  a  foothold  upon  Irish  soil.  Therefore 
the  English  tongue  was  transplanted  into 
America  and  Ireland  about  the  same  time,  and 
this  was  the  speech  of  Dryden  and  Pope. 
Now  it  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  English 
taken  to  America  and  that  taken  to  Ireland 
were  both  emigrated  languages,  and  that  the 
former  flourished  and  grew  apace  while  the 
latter  stood  still.  Indeed,  the  English  on 
Irish  soil  has  always  seemed  an  exotic  and 
has  made  very  little  development.2  Of  course 
this  remark  applies  only  to  the  language 
spoken  in  the  rural  districts  where  the  Celtic 
traditions  have  never  been  entirely  lost.  Here 
is  where  we  find  the  brogue  most  accentuated, 

i  Cf.  Green's  History  of  the  English  People,  457  and  574 
seq. 

a  Cf.  the  article  on  Irish  Pronunciation  of  English  by 
Ellis,  Early  English  Pronunciation,  Vol.  iv,  pp.  1230  seq. 


which  is  really  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the 
Celtic  mode  of  utterance  applied  to  English 
sounds.  It  is  this  concomitant,  inherent  in  the 
very  nature  of  the  Celtic  mode  of  utterance, 
which  constitutes  the  Irish  brogue.  One  of 
the  most  marked  essentials  of  this  brogue, 
according  to  Mr.  Murray, 3  is  the  peculiar  in- 
tonation, "which  appears  full  of  violent  ups 
and  downs  or  rather  precipices  and  chasms  of 
force  and  pitch,  almost  disguising  the  sound 
to  English  ears." 

To  return  to  Dryden  and  Pope  whose  pro- 
nunciation offers  so  many  parallels  to  that  of 
the  Irish  and  of  the  illiterate  Americans — a 
fossilized  seventeenth  century  English — we 
find  join  riming  with  divine,  as  in  Pope's 
oft-quoted  couplet, 

"Good-nature  and  good-sense  must  ev«r join 
To  err  is  human,  to  forgive,  divine." 
Essay  on  Crit.  1.  524. 


So  in 


"  "Tis  not  enough,  taste,  judgment,  learning,  join ; 
In  all  you  speak,  let  truth  and  candour  shine," 

Ibid.,  561. 

and  in 

"  Waller  was  smooth  ;  but  Dryden  taught  to  join 
The  varying  verse,  the  full-resounding  line, 
The  long  majestic  March  and  Energy  divine." 
fm.  of  Hor.,  267; 

Without  taking  up  space  by  quoting  illustra- 
tive passages,  suffice  it  to  say  that  these  and 
similar  rimes  are  of  frequent  occurrence  in  both 
Dryden  and  Pope.  Perhaps  it  should  be  said 
that  the  examination  was  confined  to  Dryden's 
more  careful  work  such  as  his  Absalom  and 
Achitophel,  Annus  Mirabilis,  Palamon  and 
Arcite,  Wife  of  Bath,  Good  Parson,  Religio 
Laid,  etc.,  and  did  not  include  his  work  for 
the  stage  in  which  there  are  confessedly  indi- 
cations of  haste  and  carelessness.  In  both 
Dryden  and  Pope  the  result  shows  the  follow- 
ing : 

i.  join  regularly  riming  with  divine,  line, 
dine,  sign,  shine,  design;  joined  with  mind, 
refin'd ;  joins  with  mines,  etc.  2.  joy  rim- 
ing with  lie.  3.  toil  riming  with  smile,  pile, 
etc.  4.  guile  riming  with  spoil,  etc.  5.  coin 
riming  with  line.  6.  purloin  riming  with 
mine,  etc. 

3  Cf.  Ibid.,  p.  1232. 


186 


373 


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374 


Now,  there  can  of  course  be  no  question 
about  the  genuineness  of  this  sound  of  oi,  for, 
as  the  results  show,  the  oi  rimes  with  the 
diphthongal  sound  of  long  i,  which,  it  is  a 
well  established  fact,  had  been  diphthonged 
since  the  fifteenth  century.  This  is,  also, 
confirmed  by  the  orthoepists  of  that  period. 
The  Expert  Orthographist  in  1704  admits  that 
the  oi  in  choice,  exploit,  f  raise,  noise,  poise, 
quoif,  quoit,  rejoice,  voice,  void,  has  the 
sound  of  the  diphthong  at,  but  adds  that  "  in 
the  middle  of  most  other  words  oi  sounds  / 
long  [that  is,  ?/],  as  anoint,  boil,  broil,  coin, 
loin,  moil,  toil,  poison,  point.  "4 

It  is  noteworthy  that  this  oz-diphthong  occurs 
almost  exclusively  in  words  of  Anglo-French 
origin,  the  word  boil  in  the  sense  of  tumor 
(which  is  of  Anglo-Saxon  origin,  byle)  being 
the  sole  exceptions  Its  A.-S.  form  exhibits  y, 
and  it  ought  of  course  to  have  developed  into 
the  now  vulgar  bile  if  its  normal  development 
had  not  been  arrested.  But,  according  to 
Sweet,  in  the  eighteenth  century  the  analogy 
of  the  verb  boil  (<  Anglo-French  boillir)  de- 
flected it  from  its  normal  course  into  its 
present  sound,  and  its  orthography  became 
stereotyped  as  boil,  perhaps  to  suit  the  logic 
of  the  eye,  to  use  Lowell's  apt  phrase.  In  the 
Promptorium  Parvulorum  and  in  WycliPs 
translation  (Ex.  9.  9.)  it  is  written  bile,  and 
even  in  Shakspere6  this  writing  may  be  found. 
May  not  an  effort  to  avoid  confusion  with  bile 
(secretion  of  the  liver)  have  had  some  influence 
in  facilitating  the  change  ? 

Perhaps  it  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  give 
a  brief  sketch  of  the  development  of  this 
sound  in  English. 7  In  the  sixteenth  century 
when  the  orthoepists  first  give  any  information 
regarding  this  sound,  it  seems  from  their  in- 
definite and  even  conflicting  statements  that 
there  were  recognized  at  least  three  sounds  of 
this  diphthong;  namely,  oi,  in,  and  uui,  of 
which  the  first  was  the  most  common.  For 
example,  in  1621  Gills  gave  both  soil  and 

4  Cf.  Ellit,  Early  Enflisk  Pronunciation,  i,  p.  135. 

5  Cf.  Sweet,  History  of  Enflislt  Sounds,  $  854. 

6  Cf.  "  Biles  and  plagues  platter  you  o'er."— ('or.  i.  4.  31. 

7  My  monograph  on  the  Historical  Study  of  tht  English 
&-Yowel(T>.C.  Heath  &  Co.),  does  not  include  this  diph- 
thong. 

8  Cf.  Ellis,  Early  Engl.  Pron.  i.  p.  133. 


suuilfor  soil,  boil  and  buuil  for  boil,  spoil  and 
sptiuil  for  spoil,  toil  and  tuuil  for  toil,  dzhunint 
for  joint,  disappuuint  for  disappoint,  buui  for 
buoy,  redzhois  for  rejoice,  vois  for  voice  and 
oil  for  oil. 

About  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century 
there  developed  a  new  sound  in  the  case  of 
some  words  such  as  boil,  toil  and  oil,  and  this 
is  the  pronunciation  of  long  /  (yi)  of  that 
period.  In  1653  Wallis9  says  : 

"  In  oi  .  .  .  vel  oy  .  .  .  praeponitur  aliquando 
b  apertum  (ut  in  Anglorutn  boy  puer,  toys 
nugae  ....),  aliquando  d  obscurum,  (ut  in 
Anglorum  bbil  coqueo,  tbil  labor,  oil  oleum 
....),  quanquam  non  negem  etiam  horum 
nonnulla  a  quibusdam  per  o  apertum  pro- 
nunciari." 

From  this  we  should  infer  that  this  new 
sound  (yj)  did  not  supplant  the  old  received 
pronunciation,  but  simply  existed  beside  it. 
This  new  diphthong  was  composed  of  an 
indistinct  vowel  followed  by  a  vanishing  /. 
This  is  the  first  information  we  find  anent  this 
peculiar  sound  of  oi,  which  was  so  common  in 
Dryden  and  Pope's  time  and  which  now 
survives  only  as  a  vulgarism. 

Cooper^  in  1685,  though  he  says  that  oi  is 
generally  pronounced  as  "<?in  toss,  lost,  i  prae- 
positus  .  .  .  semper  Graeci,  ut  TfoA/loi,"  still 
attests  this  new  pronunciation.  In  speaking 
of  the  sound  of  long  i  of  his  day  he  says : 
"  Scribitur  per  oi  in  injoin  injungo,  joint junc- 
tura ;  jointure  dos,  broil  torreo,  ointment 
unguentum."  So  Jones"  in  1701,  while  he 
gives  the  usual  pronunciation  of  oi,  still  admits 
that  some  give  it  the  sound  of  long./,  that  is 
(yi),  as  in  boil,  broil,  coil,  foil,  foist,  froise, 
groin,  hoise,  join,  loin,  moil,  oilet,  poise, 
poison,  soil,  spoil,  tortois,  and  adds  that  long 
/  is  written  oy  "  when  it  may  be  sounded  oy  in 
the  end  of  words,  or  before  a  vowel ;  Chan- 
dois,  decoy,  etc. — loyal,  royal,  voyage;  some- 
times abusively  sounded  as  with  an  /  [that 
is  (ai)]."  The  Expert  Orthographist  (cited 
above)  is  the  last  to  admit  this  sound  of  oi  as 
in  poison,  point,  boil,  etc.  But  it  must  have 
lingered  on  for  some  time  later  as  Pope's 
rimes  show  conclusively,  and  as  its  persis- 

9  Cf.  Ibid. 

10  Cf.  Elli»,  Early  Engl.  Pron.  i.  p.  134. 

11  Cf.  Ibid. 


I87 


375 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


376 


tence  in  vulgar  American  English  and  in  the 
Irish  dialect  indicates. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
however,  this  sound  must  have  died  out,  as 
no  orthographist  of  that  period  recognizes  it, 
and  the  oi  was  fully  restored  in  the  words 
where  (si)  had  been  used  for  about  a  century, 
though  not  to  the  exclusion  of  the  former. 
Sweet  says  it  was  the  spelling  which  '^caused 
the  reaction  against  the  pronunciations  (bail, 
paizan),  etc." 

EDWIN  W.  Bowen. 
Randolph-Macon  College. 


ANGLO-SAXON  GRAMMAR. 
Abriss  der  angelsachsischen  Grammatik,  von 

EDUARD  SIEVERS.      Halle  a.S.:   Max  Nie- 

meyer,  1895. 

THERE  has  been  no  lack  of  new  outline  gram- 
mars of  Old  English  within  the  past  few  years. 
In  this  country  alone  three  such  books  have 
been  brought  out  in  two  years:  in  1893  Hempl's 
Old- English  Phonology  ;  in  1894  Cook's  First 
Book  in  Old  English,  and  Bright's  Outline  of 
Anglo-Saxon  Grammar ;  each  containing 
some  new  features  of  its  own  which  have  re- 
commended it  to  the  use  of  students.  Sie- 
vers'  Abriss  de_r  angelsachsischen  Grammatik 
is  another  valuable  addition  to  the  working 
library  of  the  student  of  Old  English,  and  one 
that  claims  our  close  attention,  coming,  as  it 
does,  from  the  greatest  authority  on  this  sub- 
ject. 

Sievers'  Angelsdchsische  Grammatik,  first 
published  in  1882,  is  a  landmark  in  the  history 
of  Old  English  grammars.  It  may  be  said  to 
introduce  a  third  period,  just  as  Hickes'  In- 
stitutiones  Grammaticce  Anglo-sax onicce,  et 
Mceso  gothicfs  (1689)  opened  the  first,  and 
Rask's  Angelsaksisk  Sproglcsre  (1817)  the  sec- 
ond period.  It  superannuated  the  long  list  of 
Old  English  grammars  written  in  this  century 
more  or  less  under  the  influence  of  Rask  and 
Grimm  ;  it  was  the  first  really  trustworthy 
modern  handbook  for  the  study  of  the  lan- 
guage. By  adhering  to  the  sound  basis  of  the 
West-Saxon  prose  and  discriminating  between 
earlier  and  later  forms,  Professor  Sievers  re- 
duced to  order  the  perplexing  mass  of  ma- 
terial recorded  in  previous  grammars,  and 


thus  laid  a  solid  foundation  for  further  fruitful 
research.  His  work — to  quote  Henry  Sweet's 
words — '  has  indeed  lighted  up  the  obscure 
and  tortuous  paths  of  Old  English  dialectology 
and  linguistic  chronology  in  much  the  same 
way  as  Bopp's  grammar  lighted  up  the  intri- 
cacies of  Arian  philology.'  Sweet  himself  had 
pointed  the  way  and  done  the  pioneer  work  : 
to  Sievers  is  due  the  consummation  of  the 
labors  for  bringing  Old  English  grammar  up  to 
date.  Works  published  or  republished  since 
1882  in  which  this  great  progress  had  not 
been  sufficiently  taken  notice  of  (for  example, 
Theodor  Wv^X^s  Angelsdchsische  Grammatik, 
ed.  byHilmer,  1883,  and  Korner's  Angclsachs- 
ische  Laut-  und  Formenlehre,  2d  ed.  by 
Socin,  1887),  were  in  a  measure  antiquated 
from  the  very  beginning. 

The  second  edition  of  Sievers'  grammar 
(1886)  received  important  additions,  chiefly 
from  the  author's  own  collections  ;  and  in  this 
form,  both  in  the  original  German  version  and 
in  Professor  Cook's  English  translation,  it  has 
held  its  honored  place  for  nearly  ten  years. 
In  the  meantime  our  knowledge  has  been 
variously  supplemented  in  details,  and  in  par- 
ticular the  intelligent,  systematic  investiga- 
tion of  the  different  dialects  has  been  carried 
on  energetically  by  such  scholars  as  Cosijn, 
Napier,  Cook,  Brown,  Lindelof,  and  others.  A 
comprehensive  presentation  of  all  the  results 
of  recent  research  (by  himself  and  others)  is 
eagerly  awaited  from  the  pen  of  Professor 
Sievers.  We  regret  to  learn  that  no  term  can 
yet  beset  for  the  completion  of  the  third  edi- 
tion of  his  grammar.  But,  as  a  forerunner  to 
it,  we  welcome  gladly  the  brief  Abriss,  which 
forms  the  second  number  in  the  series  of 
'  Abrisse  '  published  parallel  with  the  '  Samm- 
lung  kurzer  Grammatiken  germanischer  Dia- 
lekte.' 

What  strikes  us  first  in  glancing  over  this 
book,  is  the  evidence  it  gives  of  the  desire  for 
simplification  and  more  practical  treatment 
recognized  by  this  time  in  the  author's  country. 
In  England  the  want  of  a  simple,  practical 
grammar  for  beginners  had  been  supplied  by 
the  grammatical  sketch  in  Sweet's  Anglo- 
Saxon  Reader,  and  especially  in  his  admirable 
Anglo-Saxon  Primer  issued  (in  1882)  about 
six  years  after  the  first  appearance  of  the 


377 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


378 


Reader; — for  we  may  leave  out  of  account 
Earle's  Book  for  the  Beginner  in  Anglo-Saxon. 
It  is  also  noteworthy  that  the  grammatical  in- 
troduction in  the  latest  (seventh)  edition  of 
Sweet's  Reader  (1894)  has  been  recast,  obvi- 
ously with  a  view  to  facilitate  its  use,  if  not 
to  simplify  it.  America  has  recently  been 
well  provided  with  practical  handbooks  by 
Hempl,  Bright,  and  Cook.  A  Dutch  scholar 
has  written  one  in  German  (Cosijn,  Kurzge- 
fasste  altwestsdchsische  Grammatik,  2d  ed. 
1893}.  Joseph  Wright's  Old  High-  German,  Mid- 
dle High- German,  and  Gothic  Primers,  and 
Sweet's  Icelandic  Primer,  published  between 
1886  and  1892,  testify  to  the  same  general  ten- 
dency. 

The  two  avowed  objects  of  Sievers'  Abriss 
are  to  serve  as  a  basis  for  lectures  on  Old 
English  grammar  and  to  furnish  beginners 
with  the  immediately  needed  grammatical 
help  for  the  reading  of  texts.  To  meet  the 
former  of  these  objects,  the  comparative  point 
of  view  has  been  made  particularly  promi- 
nent, more  so  than  in  Sievers'  larger  '  Gram- 
mar.' The  author  has,  indeed,  refrained  from 
references  to  Indo-European  relations  and 
has  certainly  done  well  in  giving  up  the  terms 
o-,  and  a-  declension  in  favor  of  a~,  and  &-  de- 
clension respectively.  But  the  relation  of 
Old  English  to  the  other  Teutonic  dialects  has 
been  constantly  kept  in  view.  In  the  sections 
on  phonology  the  representation  of  the  Teu- 
tonic sounds  in  Gothic,  Old  Saxon  and  Old 
High-German  has  been  mentioned.  The  West 
Germanic  stage  of  the  vowels  has  been  omit- 
ted, but  that  of  the  consonants  has  been  added 
(§23), — a  decided  improvement.  As  regards 
the  inflections,  we  find,  in  addition  to  the 
Gothic  paradigms  of  the  pronouns  and  fre- 
quent illustrations  from  the  Gothic  as  well  as 
occasional  ones  from  the  High-German,  the 
paradigms  of  the  (much  neglected)  Old  Saxon 
given  throughout  parallel  with  those  of  the 
Old  English. 

Practical  considerations  seem  to  have  led 
Sievers  to  a  remarkable  change  of  principle. 
Though  he  does  not  expressly  state  it,  he  has 
practically  made  the  Late  West-Saxon  the 
basis  in  preference  to  the  Early  West-Saxon. 
Thus  he  gives  y  and  y  as  the  'gemeinags.' 
form  of  the  «-um1aut  of  ea,  eo  and  fa,  eo  ;  i, 


y  as  the  'gemeinags.'  equivalent  of  Early 
West-Saxon  ie  from  e  after  palatals  (§8.2,  §9.2, 
§17,  §18);  and  he  regulates  the  use  of  the 
symbols  p  and  &  so  as  to  employ  in  initial 
position  p,  otherwise  fi  (§37;  cf.  Gr.*,  §199). 
At  the  same  time  all  the  chief  peculiari- 
ties of  the  other  dialects  and  of  the  poetical 
texts  have  been  carefully  pointed  out  in  the 
notes.  Nor  has  chronology  been  neglected. 
Besides  mentioning  occasionally  special  fea- 
tures of  the  oldest  texts  and  characterizing 
late  forms  as  such,  the  full  paradigm 
of  the  oldest  forms  of  the  conjugation  has 
been  given,  together  with  the  standard  Old 
English  forms.  In  a  few  cases  the  author's 
terminology  appears  a  little  ambiguous;  for 
example,  when  he  speaks  of  West-Saxon, 
Anglian  and  'the  other  dialects'  (§88,  n.  i.; 
cf.  Gr*,  §371,  n.),  or  of  'some  Anglian 
dialects'  (§9,  n.  4);  certainly  a  brief  introduc- 
tory remark  about  the  dialectal  divisions 
would  have  been  welcome. 

The  arrangement  of  the  material  is  deserv- 
ing of  unqualified  praise.  Part  of  the  credit  is 
no  doubt  (cf.  the  Preface)  due  to  Professor 
Braune,  whose  '  Abriss  '  of  the  Old  High-Ger- 
man Grammar  has  been  the  model  for  this 
work.  A  uniform  plan  runs  through  the  book. 
In  the  treatment  of  the  vowels  and  of  the  con- 
sonants first  the  special  rules  affecting  certain 
groups  of  sounds  (/-umlaut,  breaking,  contrac- 
tion,grammatical  change, etc.)  are  set  forth, and 
then  the  regular  development  of  each  sound  is 
traced.  The  result  is  a  marked  simplification 
and  clearness, as  may  be  seen  at  a  glance  from 
the  account  of  a,  e,  i,  u  (§§8-io).  Similarly, 
in  the  strong  verbs,  the  deviations  from  the 
simple  paradigm  forms  that  are  caused  by 
phonological  peculiarities  (for  example,  ex- 
pansion by_/0-suffix,  grammatical  change,  con- 
traction) have  been  prefixed  to  the  exposition 
of  the  ablaut  classes, — the  best  and  most  con- 
cise formulation  we  know  of.  The  account  of 
the  declensions  is  substantially  unchanged, 
though,  of  course,  greatly  abridged  and  sim- 
plified, sometimes  by  transposition  (cf.  §45,  n. 
2 — 6>.2  §§280-290;  §50 — Gr.'  §279). 

In  condensing  the  material  Sievers  has  been 
eminently  successful.  On  fifty-six  pages  and 
two  tables  containing  the  paradigms  of  the 
verbs,  he  has  presented  all  that  is  essential  in 


189 


379 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


380 


his  '  Grammar.'  Only  in  some  exceptional  in- 
stances it  would  seem  that  a  word  of  explana- 
tion has  been  left  out.  We  miss  a  remark 
about  \\\zphonetic  value  of  x,  when  used  for  hs 
(§38,  n.  2;  §42c;  cf.  Hempl,  Old- English 
Phonology,  §§6o  ii,  84,  90,  4  n.).  That  no 
mention  has  been  made  of  the  relative 
particle  9e  (cf.  §82),  that  nothing  has  been 
said  about  the  use  of  the  strong  and  the  weak 
form  of  the  adjective,  and  almost  nothing 
about  the  adverb  (cf.  §§68,  n.  3 ;  71,  n.  3 ; 
§73),  can  hardly  be  charged  as  a  fault  against 
a  book  which  excludes  word-formation  and 
syntax.  But  this  brings  home  to  us  again  the 
urgent  need  of  an  adequate,  up-to-date  treat- 
ment of  these  important  subjects.  We  have 
not  yet  a  complete  Old  English  Grammar. 

Of  additions  and  changes  in  detail  we  may 
mention  the  rule  of  the  disappearance  of 
medial  w  after  consonants  in  West  Germanic 
(§26,  n.  3) ;  the  designation  of  the  rune  for  w 
as  wyn,  no  longer  as  wen  (§26,  n.  i ;  cf.  Gr.*, 
§171) ;  the  form  *frignjan  as  the  prototype  of 
frignan  (§91,  n.  8) ;  the  meaning  'einzeln,'  be- 
sides 'einzig,'  for  the  plural  of  dn — apparently 
as  an  explanation  of  dnra  gehwylc  (§74).  We 
are  surprised  to  find  mugon  (§104)  substituted 
for  tnagon  (Gr.3,  §424) ;  lesan  (lesen)  (§93,  n.  i; 
Gr.2,  §391,  n.  i :  sammeln)  is  ambiguous.  Of 
misprints  not  mentioned  in  Anglia,  Bciblatt 
vi,  129  ff.,  or  Englische  Studien  xxii,  73  f.,  we 
have  noticed  in  §24,  n.  i,  i.  line :  Germ,  w — 
•yw  for  :  Germ,  hw — yw ;  in  §19,  n.  i,  3.  line: 
§58  for:  §59. 

In  summing  up,  we  would  say  that  Sievers 
has  solved  a  difficult  problem  most  satisfac- 
torily. He  has  not  said  much  that  is  new,  but 
he  has  put  many  things  in  a  new  way.  We 
venture  to  predict  an  extensive  use  of  the 
book  in  Germany  ;  and  it  seems  to  us  that 
also  in  this  country  it  could  very  profitably  be 
used  with  advanced  classes.  Those  who  work 
with  Sievers'  Grammar,  will  make  no  mis- 
take in  securing  this  Abriss  besides.  It  is  an 
excellent  work  of  its  kind,  similar  to  Joseph 
Wright's  Gothic  Primer,  and  may  be  especi- 
ally recommended  to  those  who  have  worked 
through  the  latter  book. 

FREDERICK  KLAEBER. 
University  of  Minnesota. 


FRENCH  LITERATURE. 
Eughiie  Grandet  par  Honori  de  Balzac. 
Edited  with  introduction  and  notes  by 
EUGENE  BERGERON,  Assistant  Professor 
in  the  University  of  Chicago.  New  York  : 
Henry  Holt  &  Co.,  8vo,  pp.  xxi,  280.  1895. 
With  portrait. 

La  Frontilrc  par  Jules   Claretie.      Edited, 

with  an  introduction  and  explanatory  notes 

in  English,  by  CHARLES  A.  EGGERT,  Ph.D., 

L.  L.  B.,  New  York:    William  R.  Jenkins, 

16  mo.,  paper,  pp.  vii,  126.     1895.     25  cents. 

Selected  Essays,  from    Sainte-Beuve.    With 

introduction,    bibliography    and    notes    by 

JOHN  R.EFFINGER,  JR. .Instructor  in  French, 

University  of  Michigan.     Boston:    Ginn  & 

Co.,  8vo,  pp.  xii,  118.     1895. 

INCREASED  attention  has  been  called  to  Balzac 

in  this  country  during  the  past  year.     Of  much 

interest  to  English  readers — who  have  not  the 

Balzacian  French  under  control — has  been  the 

appearance  of  a  new  and  presumably  superior 

translation  of  the  novelist,  with  introductions 

by  George  Saintsbury.    The  edition  is  from 

the  Macmillan  house,  is  illustrated,  and  has, 

at  present  writing,  reached  its  eighth  volume. 

It  has  given  an  opportunity  for  renewed  study 

of  the  author's  aims  and  methods,  and   has 

allowed  "another  last  word"  to  be  said  in 

criticism  of  his  realism. 

Of  not  less  interest  to  teachers  and  students 
of  French  is  the  first  American  edition,  in  the 
original,  of  the  masterpiece  in  fiction  that  is 
considered  by  many  to  be  Balzac's  best  work. 
Eugenie  Grandet,  in  an  edition  issued  by 
Hachette  et  Cie.,  has  been  used  to  some 
extent  In  this  country,  but  was,  I  think,  found 
insufficient  and  incomplete.  A  very  welcome 
addition  to  our  material  for  teaching  French 
literature  is  the  full  and  well  printed  edition 
of  Professor  Bergeron.  It  supplies  a  real 
need. 

The  editor's  preface  of  three  pages  ad- 
dresses, to  the  student  who  is  unaquainted 
with  Balzac,  some  general  suggestions  upon 
the  quality  and  nature  of  his  theme.  I  have 
recently  seen,  in  a  short  book-notice,  this 
preface  rated  as  "somewhat  perfunctory."  I 
think  the  criticism  unjust ;  the  fact,  however, 
of  such  remarks  being  very  general,  may  tend 


190 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


382 


possibly  to  render  them  unduly  erudite.  The 
introduction,  devoted  to  the  life  and  works  of 
the  author,  gives  in  classified  order  the  titles 
of  the  more  important  novels,  followed  often 
by  pertinent  and  appreciative  remarks  upon 
their  themes.  Little  or  no  comment  is  made 
upon  Balzac  as  a  painter  of  real  life,  or  as  to 
whether  he  "is  so  far  from  being  a  realist,  in 
the  general  acceptation  of  the  word,  that  even 
Victor  Hugo  is  less  a  romancer."  The  text 
is  preceded  by  a  translation  of  a  portion  of 
Taine's  essay  on  Balzac,  in  which  Pere 
Grandet  is  contrasted  with  Harpagon. 

The  copious  notes  are  perhaps  the  principal 
feature  of  the  edition.  They  are  in  the  main 
very  helpful  to  the  student,  though  in  several 
cases  they  appear  unnecessarily  full.  The 
town  Saumur  is  so  important  in  the  story  as 
doubtless  to  justify  the  notice  of  about  a  page 
that  is  devoted  to  it ;  but  the  extended  com- 
ments tinder  beau-plre,  Grand"  Rue  (to  which 
an  entire  page  is  given,  deriving  grand  from 
gran  dis)  and  a  few  similar  expressions,  are 
possibly  of  doubtful  expediency.  The  editor 
goes  into  etymologies  to  a  judicious  extent, 
but,  as  just  hinted,  I  am  sorry  to  see  him  cite 
in  some  instances  the  nominative  (in  others 
the  accusative)  case  of  the  Latin.  And  in  a 
text  like  the  present  one — which  I  judge  no 
instructor  would  use  with  absolute  beginners, 
explanations  of  the  pronunciation  of  six  and 
sept  might  well  be  dispensed  with.  The  idio- 
matic renderings  are  especially  good.  The 
repetition,  however,  of  annotations,  in  case  of 
common  expressions  like  redingote  and 
parents,  seems  entirely  uncalled  for ;  the 
more  so  when,  at  the  second  occurrence,  the 
text  reads :  il  if  a  point  de  parents  du  cdte 
maternel.  Temr  de  is  annotated  three  times, 
prendre  bon  parti  twice,  etc.  Having  in  mind 
the  best  interests  of  the  class-room,  I  should 
say  that  the  editor's  notes  furnish,  in  the  way 
of  translations,  too  much  aid  rather  than  too 
little.  The  matter  of  referring  the  student  to 
Littre*  for  derivation  may  be  just  a  trifle  gra- 
tuitous ;  and  the  bringing  in  of  Mrs.  James 
Brown  Potter  on  the  occasion  of  an  incidental 
mention  of  Marat  in  the  text,  may  appear  to 
some  rather  tire  par  les  cheveux.  But  how- 
ever we  may  differ  as  to  details  of  annotation, 
Professor  Bergeron  deserves  our  hearty  thanks 
for  making  available,  in  a  compact  and  attrac- 
tive volume,  this  famous  portrayal  of  what 


Saintsbury  terms  "the  pushing  of  thrift  to  the 
loathsome  excess   of  an  inhuman  avarice." 

La  Frontitre  is  the  latest  issue  (no.  19)  in 
the  Jenkins  series  of  Contes  choisis.  The 
original  intention  of  this  series,  which  was 
begun  some  ten  years  ago,  appears  to  have 
been  to  offer,  to  readers  of  French  in  general 
in  this  country,  reprints  of  short  stories  and 
nouvelles  by  some  of  the  best  French  writers 
at  a  very  moderate  price.  The  early  issues 
were  without  annotation  or  introductory  notice 
of  any  kind,  the  lines  were  unnumbered,  and 
typographical  errors  were  by  no  means  infre- 
quent. More  recently,  however,  a  change  has 
been  noticed,  in  the  line  of  better  adaptation 
to  the  purposes  and  needs  of  class-room  in- 
struction. English  notes  have  been  appended 
to  several  of  the  earlier  editions,  and  the 
latest  numbers  appear  at  first  hand  under  the 
guidance  of  an  editor.  In  the  present  one, 
Professor  Eggert  furnishes  a  letter  from  the 
author,  a  preface  and  introduction,  a  text  with 
numbered  lines  and  almpst  no  misprints,  and 
adequate  notes.  Such  improvement  in  the 
editorial  tone  of  the  series  is  gratifying. 

Jules  Claretie  is  an  "immortal"  whom  we 
are  always  glad  to  welcome.  His  popularity 
is  increasing  in  this  country  as  he  becomes 
better  known.  One  of  his  shorter  stories  has 
already  appeared  in  an  earlier  issue  of  the 
Jenkins  series.  Pierrille  is  available  (Macmil- 
lan  Co.)  in  annotated  form  for  use  in  schools 
and  colleges.  And  I  believe  that  the  author's 
libretto  of  the  opera  La  Navarraise  has 
brought  his  name  into  much  favor  with  the 
American  public  during  the  past  winter.  La 
Frontiers  is  a  decidedly  interesting  and  touch- 
ing story  ;  its  theme  is  patriotism  ;  the  scene 
is  the  Alpine  frontier  between  France  and 
Italy.  The  editing  is  very  conscientiously 
done ;  the  introductory  sketch  of  the  author 
is  appreciative,  and  the  notes  are  sufficiently 
full  without  being  tiresome.  The  little  volume 
is'  the  best  of  the  series,  and  furnishes,  in 
handy  form,  excellent  material  for  early  read- 
ing. 

Mr.  Effinger's  selections  from  the  essays  of 
Sainte-Beuve  recall  the  little  edition,  of  similar 
scope,  of  the  Causeries  du  Lundi,  published 
some  time  ago  by  George  Saintsbury  in  the 
Clarendon  Press  Series.  A  comparison  of  the 
two  editions  shows  that  the  American  editor 
has,  in  the  matter  of  attractive  subjects  and 
connected  grouping  at  least,  made  some  im- 
provement upon  the  collection  of  his  prede- 
cessor. Professor  Saintsbury  gave  a  larger 
number  of  selections,  but  only  three  of  them 
were  complete;  and  his  desire  to  vary  the 
subjects  and  periods  as  much  as  possible 
caused  him  to  introduce  extracts  of  relatively 
little  or  minor  interest  to  the  average  student. 
The  notes,  however,  which  the  English  scholar 
appended  were  models  of  annotation,  as  in- 
deed, to  my  mind,  his  notes  uniformly  are. 


191 


383 


June,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  6. 


384 


Mr.  Effinger,  on  the  other  hand,  has  inserted 
fewer  selections  and  made  them  complete ; 
has  also  chosen  subjects  that  are  prominent 
and  very  attractive.  Of  the  seven  articles 
given  the  first  two,  upon  Chateaubriand,  are 
especially  opportune  and  of  twofold  interest, 
as  they  furnish  at  the  start  the  author's 
thorough  discussion  of  his  own  method.  The 
following  causerie,  upon  Madame  Recamier, 
not  only  presents  an  attractive  subject,  but  is 
agreeably  linked  to  the  fore  going  articles  by 
the  intimacy  of  the  two  people  concerned. 
The  next  essay  entitled  Qii '  est-ce  qu'un  das- 
sique?  is  well  placed  and  affords  a  practical, 
straightforward  discussion  of  a  pertinent  class- 
room theme.  After  essays  upon  le  Roman  de 
Renart  and  Alfred  de  Musset,  the  group  closes 
with  an  article  on  the  French  Academy. 

The  editor's  notes  are  decidedly  terse,  and 
cover  chiefly  the  proper  names  mentioned  in 
the  text.  These  biographical  hints  are  at 
times  so  meagre  as  to  fail  to  do  justice  to  the 
writer  in  question;  for  example,  the  references 
to  Musset  (occurring  before  the  essay  upon 
him)  and  Lamartine.  Almost  no  word  of 
comment  is  offered  on  points  of  language, 
though  an  occasional  aid  in  this  direction 
would  not  have  been  superfluous,  nor  would 
it  have  swelled  the  notes  to  an  undesirable 
extent.  The  Latin  expressions  found  on  pp. 
86,  87,  of  the  text  might  well  have  been 
rendered.  Slips  in  typography  may  be  noticed 
on  pp.  27,  32,  51,  no,  117.  The  editor  certainly 
deserves  commendation  for  his  happy  choice 
of  subjects,  and  instructors  who  do  not  lay  too 
much  stress  on  the  matter  of  annotation  will 
find  the  volume  a  very  satisfactory  basis  of 
work. 

B.  L.  BOWEN. 
Ohio  State  University. 


A    NOTE    ON    THE    TEXT   OF    THE 

Nero. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS  : — In  the  Tragedy  of  Nero,  Act  iv, 
scene  iv  (Mermaid  Series,  p.  65)  occurs  the 
following  passage : 

His  long  continued  taxes  I  forbear, 

In  which  he  chiefly  showed  himself  a  prince; 

His  robbing  altars,  sale  of  holy  things, 

The  antique  goblets  of  adored  rust 

And  sacred  gifts  of  kings  and  people  sold. 

The  editor's  preface  calls  attention  to  the 
exceptional  vigor  of  the  last  three  lines,  but 
it  has  escaped  his  observation  that  they  are  a 
version  of  Juvenal,  Sat.  xiii,  147-149 : 

Confer  et  hos,  veteris  qui  tollunt  grandia  templi 
Pocula  adorandae  robiginis  et  populorum 
Dona  vel  antique  positas  a  rege  coronas. 

A  comparison  with  this  original  suggests  a 
much-needed  correction  of  the  English  text. 
Sold  is  an  awkward  and  obvious  tautology 
with  sale  above.  It  is  not  in  the  Latin  and 
may  be  got  rid  of  by  transfer  of  the  s  to  peo- 
ple, reading : 

And  sacred  gifts  of  kings  and  peoples  old. 


While  on  the  subject,  I  may  remark  that 
this  play  is  full  of  Classical  reminiscences 
which  have  eluded  the  industry  of  the  editors. 
On  page  52,  for  example,  occur  the  lines  : 

But  if  to  Nero's  end  this  only  way 

Heaven's  justice  hath  chosen  out,  and  people's  love 

Could  not  but  by  their  feebling  ills  be  moved  ; 

We  do  not  then  at  all  complain  ;  our  harms 

On  this  condition  please  us. 

A  foot-note  observes : 

"  On  the  torn  margin  of  the  MS.  is  written 

against  the  passage  the  following  fragment  of 

a  quotation  : — 

venturo 
liam  pituro 
i 

jam,  etc." 
With  the  aid  of  these  indications  it  requires 

no  OZdipus   to   see  that  the  poet  is  adapting 

Lucan,  Pharsalia,  i.  33  sqq. 

Quod  si  non  aliam  •venturo  fata  Neroni 

Invenere  viam         ..... 

Jam  nihil,  O  Superi,  querimur  :  scelera  ipsa  nefasque 

Hac  mercede  placent. 

The  original  complimentary  application  to 
Nero  is,  of  course,  reversed. 
On  page  54  the  lines  : 

The  gods  sure  keep  it  hid  from  us  that  live, 
How  sweet  death  is,  because  we  should  go  on 
And  be  their  bails 

are  modeled  on  Pharsalia  iv,  519: 

Victurosque  dei  celant  ut  vivere  durent 
Felix  esse  mori. 

"  Be  their  bails  "  I  do  not  understand;  qy., 
"flee  their  bails"?  "break  their  bails"?  or 
does  "because"  mean  "in  order  that" 
here?  On  page  63  the  quaint  phrase  "the 
love  and  dainty  of  mankind  "  is  an  attempt  to 
render  the  "amor  et  deliciae  generis  human!" 
of  Suetonius,  Tit.  i. 

On  page  73  the  lines  : 

"  Each  best  day  of  our  life  at  first  doth  go, 
To  them  succeeds  diseased  age  and  woe," 

are  a  translation  of  Virgil's 

Optuma  quaeque  dies  miseris  mortalibus  aevi 
Prima  fugit ;  subeunt  morbi  tristisque  senectus. 

(Geoi-fics  iii,  66-67); 

and  the  two  following  lines  : 

"  Now  die  your  pleasures,  and  the  day  you  pray 
Your  rhymes  and  lovas  and  jilts  will  take-away," 

contain  a  reminiscence  of  Horace's  " 

Eripuere  jocos  venerem  convivia  ludos. 
Tendunt  extorquere  poemata. 

The  "black  frogs  that  croak  about  the 
brim"  of  "th*  ill-favored  lake"  on  the  same 
page  are  Juvenal's  "  Stygio  ranas  in  gurgite 
nigras,"  Sat.  ii,  150, 

There  are  other  reminiscences  of  Lucan, 
Seneca  and  the  writers  of  the  "Silver"  age,  but 
I  have  no  time  to  verify  them  and  have, perhaps, 
given  enough  to  show  how  the  unknown  au- 
thor used  his  note  book. 

PAUL  SHOREY. 

University  of  Chicago. 


CORRECTION. 

In  table  of  contents  of  May,  1896,  under 
Correspondence,  read  F.  J.  Child  for  F.  C.  G. 
Child. 


192 


MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES. 


Baltimore,  November,    189O. 

NO  TES  ON  SLANG. 

SLANG,  neither  on  its  philological  side  nor  on 
its  psychological  and  rhetorical  side,  has  re- 
ceived all  the  attention  that  it  deserves.  With 
a  few  notable  exceptions,  no  very  persistent 
efforts  have  been  made  to  collect  and  record 
current  slang  expressions  and  to  trace  their 
derivation.  Not  very  many  attempts  have 
been  made  to  explain  psychological  effects  of 
slang,  and  to  discover  the  conditions  that  give 
rise  to  it.  The  treatment  of  slang  in  books  on 
rhetoric  and  usage  is  abstract  and  sometimes 
dogmatic ;  the  subject  is  usually  dismissed 
with  a  few  more  or  less  conventional  words  of 
warning. 

If  this  be  true,  I  may  be  permitted  to  call 
attention  to  some  investigations  in  college 
slang  that  have  been  carried  on  with  the  help 
of  the  students  in  one  of  the  rhetoric  courses 
in  the  University  of  Michigan.  In  order  to 
provide  the  material  for  this  work,  the  students 
were  asked  to  collect  and  define  specimens  of 
slang  used  by  students  in  this  University. 
About  six  hundred  expressions  were  obtained 
in  this  way.  These  were  classified  with  refer- 
ence to  their  origin,  so  far  as  possible,  and 
in  January  of  this  year  were  published,  ac- 
companied by  a  brief  comment  and  by  a  bibli- 
ography, as  one  in  the  series  of  Contributions 
to  Rhetorical  Theory,  edited  by  Prof.  F.  N. 
Scott. 

The  second  step  was  an  attempt  to  learn 
more  definitely  what  is  the  psychological  and 
rhetorical  side  of  slang :  what  kind  of  feelings 
or  images  it  arouses ;  under  what  circum- 
stances and  to  produce  what  effects  it  is  used 
most.  Some  attempt  was  also  made  to  ascer- 
tain what  influence  its  use  has  upon  vocabu- 
lary. 

With  this  end  in  view,  the  members  of  the 
class  were  asked  to  answer  a  set  of  questions 
bearing  upon  the  points  just  mentioned.  Their 
answers  throw  enough  light  on  these  points  to 
make  it  worth  while,  it  seems  to  me,  to  give 
the  following  brief  digest  of  them.  The  digest 
is  made  from  eighty-seven  of  the  reports.  It 
should  be  added  that  nearly  all  the  mem- 


bers of  the  class  that  collected  the  specimens 
of  slang  already  referred  to  and  wrote  these 
reports  were  either  in  their    second  or  third 
year  of  residence  at  the  University, 
r.     At  what  age  did  you  begin  to  use  slang- f 

(Eighty-four  answers.) 

Considerable  uncertainty  was  manifested  in 
the  answers  to  this  question,  and  few  seemed 
sure  of  the  exact  year.  From  the  ages  that 
were  given,  the  average  age  was  found  to  be 
between  eight  and  nine.  A  few  began  to  use 
slang  much  earlier.  A  few,  on  the  other  hand, 
did  not  begin  to  use  slang  until  they  entered 
the  high  school,  and  three  did  not  begin  until 
they  entered  the  University.  But  nearly  half 
stated  that  they  used  slang  first  when  they 
began  going  to  the  grammar  school.  It  was 
probably  this  latter  period  that  the  student 
had  in  mind  who  remarked, 

"When  I  arrived  at  what  we  often  call  the 
'smart  age,'  without  which,  I  may  say,  a  boy's 
life  is  never  complete,  I  began  to  use  slang ; 
and  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  then  dipped  very 
deeply  into  its  Use.  and,  so  far  as  possible, 
talked  entirely  in  slang;  for  the  one  who 
could  invent  and  use  the  most  striking  slang 
expressions  was  the  best  fellow  always." 

2.  At  what  age  did  (or  do)  you  use  the  most 

slang?  (Eighty-two  answers.) 
The  average  age  falls  in  the  period  between 
sixteen  and  nineteen.  Thirty-four,  or  about 
forty  per  cent.,  said  that  they  have  used  most 
since  coming  to  college  ;  twenty  of  these  use 
most  at  the  present  time. 

3.  What  effect  does  slang  have  upon  you? 

(Seventy  answers.) 

The  answers  to  this  question  show  great 
diversity  of  opinion.  They  may  be  roughly 
divided  into  four  classes,  (i)  Those  which 
testify  to  the  disagreeable  effect  of  slang.  (2) 
Those  which  testify  to  the  pleasurable  effect. 
(3)  Those  which  deal  with  slang  as  a  promoter 
of  clearness,  or  force.  (4)  Those  which  de- 
scribe the  effect  of  slang  upon  the  hearer's 
opinion  of  the  user. 

Twenty,  or  a  little  less  than  thirty  per  cent., 
bore  witness  to  the  "  disagreeable,"  "  harsh," 
"jarring"  effect  of  some  or  all  slang.  "It 
always  grates  upon  me,"  says  one,  "and  pro- 


193 


387         November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7. 


388 


duces  the  effect  of  vulgarity,  though  I  know 
that  it  is  used  by  many  really  refined  people." 
Says  another, 

"Most  slang  has  a  disagreeable  effect  upon 
me,  impressing  me  as  being  a  careless  use  of 
English :  the  contractions  especially.  It  is 
like  walking  across  a  green  lawn  day  after  day 
until  the  grass  is  ruined,  although  a  very  few 
more  steps  would  have  avoided  this  destruc- 
tion. The  'corners 'in  conversation  are  apt 
to  be  treated  in  the  same  thoughtless  way  by 
persons  who  use  much  slang,  and  ordinarily  I 
am  much  displeased  by  it." 

With  several,  the  unpleasant  effect  of  slang  is 
due  not  only  to  the  intrinsic  nature  of  slang, 
but  also  to  the  character  of  the  user. 

"When  I  hear  slang  used  by  persons  who 
are  unaccustomed  to  using  it,"  writes  one, 
"it  has  a  disgusting  effect  upon  me.  I  feel 
that  they  are  forcing  themselves  to  use  it.  But 
when  those  who  are  wont  to  employ  slang 
speak  it  in  my  presence,  it  has  no  effect  upon 
me." 

And  another  writes,  "To  hear  it  from  the 
mouth  of  any  one  I  honor  or  respect,  affects 
me  like  a  dash  of  cold  water." 

Fifteen,  or  a  little  over  twenty  percent.,  bore 
witness,  on  the  other  hand,  to  the  "pleasant," 
"humorous,"  "jovial,"  character  of  some  or 
all  slang.  "  Whenever  I  hear  a  slang  expres- 
sion," writes  one,  "  I  feel  like  laughing  aloud, 
and  I  can  never  restrain  a  smile  at  such  times. 
A  slang  expression  always  seems  to  jump  at 
the  meanings  which  are  intended."  "Usually 
slang  tends  to  arouse  ludicrous  images,"  says 
another,  for  example,  "if  I  stop  to  think  of 
the  absurdity  of  the  slang  terms."  Another 
says,  "  Slang  makes  me  feel  light-spirited." 
Another,  "Polite  slang  arouses  a  pleasant 
state  of  mind."  Another,  "I  always  feel  as 
though  I  were  violating  some  rule  when  I  use 
slang,  but  there  is  a  freedom  and  delight  in  its 
use  that  offsets  this  feeling."  And  another, 

"When  I  hear  a  slang  phrase,  I  am  both 
pleased  and  displeased, — displeased  because 
of  a  prejudice  against  slang  which,  however, 
I  believe  to  be  now  more  a  habit  than  an  actual 
mental  bias.  I  am  pleased,  however,  more 
than  I  am  displeased,  because  of  the  rare  in- 
sight of  which  these  expressions  seem  to  be 
the  product.  They  seem  to  vanquish  whole 
hosts  of  conventionalities." 

Eight,  or  about^ten  percent.,  stated  that 
slang  often  promoted  clearness  and  force. 


Says  one,  "  It  has  the  effect  of  making  what  is 
said  decidedly  clear."  Says  another,  "I  do 
not  notice  that  slang  has  any  effect  upon  me 
other  than  to  arouse  my  attention." 

Nineteen,  or  nearly  thirty  per  cent.,  speak 
of  the  effect  of  slang  upon  their  opinion  of  the 
character  of  the  person  using  it.  They  say 
that  they  lose  respect  for  one  who  uses  it,  that 
they  regard  him  as  lacking  in  refinement  or  as 
unduly  familiar.  "  A  constant  use  of  slang  by 
any  one  is  very  distasteful  to  me,  and  I  always 
feel  sorry  for  the  person  using  it."  Another 
says, 

"When  I  hear  slang  that  is  used  to  create 
laughter  or  to  show  the  brightness  of  the 
speaker,  I  immediately  judge  him  to  be  an  un- 
refined person.  When  it  is  used  for  clearness, 
I  consider  that  it  is  allowable  under  the  cir- 
cumstances." 

And  another, 

"  If  I  hear  a  person  with  whom  I  am  but 
slightly  acquainted  use  slang,  it  lowers  him 
slightly  in  my  estimation — it  seems  to  bring 
him  down  from  the  heights  of  excellence  to  a 
level  with  ordinary  people."  "But  when  I 
hear  a  friend  use  slang,"  the  same  writer  adds, 
"it  does  not  affect  my  opinion  of  him,  but  it 
seems  to  give  me  a  feeling  of  gaiety,  of  hail- 
fellow-well-met  !  " 

Four  said  that  slang  had  no  effect  on  them. 

4.  What  effect  do  you  seek  to  produce  by  the 
use  of  slang?  (Seventy-six  answers.) 

Thirty-eight,  or  fifty  per  cent.,  said  that  they 
used  slang  to  give  "force, ""emphasis,"  "vivid- 
ness," or  "point"  to  what  they  say;  some  of 
these  said  they  used  it  to  attract  the  attention 
of  the  hearer.  Sixteen,  or  about  twenty-five 
per  cent.,  said  they  used  it  to  produce  a  hu- 
morous effect.  Thirteen,  or  about  twenty  per 
cent.,  said  they  used  it  to  promote*clearness. 
One  student  adds,  however,  that  he  uses  slang 
not  only  when  he  wishes  to  be  clear  and  pre- 
cise, but  also  when  he  wishes  to  give  an  im- 
pression of  vagueness. 

Eleven  said  they  used  slang  for  the  sake  of 
brevity.  This,  however,  does  not  bear  directly 
on  the  question  of  effect  to  be  produc'ed. 

Seven  said  they  used  slang  to  give  the  effect 
of  good  fellowship.  "I  think  that  I  use  it 
most  when  I  am  trying  to  establish  a  feeling 
of  comradeship,  and  when  I  am  trying  to  be 
humorous."  And  another  writes,  "  By  the  use 


194 


389          November,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          390 


of  slang,  I  seek  to  show  my  good  fellowship, 
my  friendly  interest  in,  and  equality  with, 
those  before  whom  I  can  use  it  with  impunity." 
Five  said  they  used  slang  to  make  others 
think  them  worldly-wise,  or  "smart."  "When 
younger,"  says  one,  "  I  thought  slang  was 
manly,  and  made  people  laugh."  And  an- 
other says, 

"  In  using  slang  I  desire  to  produce  the  effect 
that  I  have  seen  something  of  the  world,  and 
the  indication  of  this  versatility  gives  me 
pleasure.  I  also  feel  that  I  am  considered 
witty  when  I  use  the  appropriate  slang." 

Seven  said  they  used  slang  solely  from 
habit,  or  without  conscious  intention  of  pro- 
ducing any  effect. 

5.     Under  what  circumstances  do  you  make 
use  of  slang?   (Seventy-four  answers.) 

Forty,  or  more  than  half,  said  they  made 
use  of  slang  only  when  with  intimate  friends 
of  their  own  age  or  younger,  with  class-mates, 
with  boon-companions.  "  I  use  it,"  says  one, 
"  in  circumstances  of  familiarity,  of  company 
and  of  subject,  and  when  I  know  that  no  one 
present  is  opposed  to  its  use."  And  another 
says, 

"  When  in  the  companionship  of  those  with 
whom  I  am  well  acquainted,  with  whom  I  feel 
myself  to  be  on  a  par,  and  who  have  much  the 
same  interests  as  I  do,  I  use  slang  indiscrimi- 
nately." 

Sixteen  said  they  used  it  when  in  company 
with  others  who  used  it  and  understood  it.  "I 
do  not  think  I  use  slang  to  any  great  extent," 
writes  one,  "  but  when  I  am  with  people  who 
carry  on  mc5st  of  their  conversation  in  slang, 
I  find  I  can  readily  adapt  myself  to  the  condi- 
tions." And  another  writes, 

"  I  make  most  use  of  slang  when  I  am  with 
persons  who  use  it  a  great  deal.  Their  slang 
seems  to  act  as  a,challenge,  and  slang  phrases, 
which  I  had  supposed  were  forgotten,  sud- 
denly come  to  my  mind  and  force  themselves 
unconsciously  into  my  speech." 

Ten,  instead  of  answering  this  question  with 
reference  to  the  objective  circumstances,  de- 
scribed rather  the  moods  or  emotions  ex- 
perienced when  using  slang  or  when  prompted 
to  use  it.  These  are  variously  described  as 
feelings  of  disgust,  anger,  delight,  excitement, 
playfulness,  relaxation,  frivolity,  hilariousness, 
etc.  These  feelings  are  not  directed  toward 


the  slang  expressions  themselves,  but  rather 
are  aroused  by  the  circumstances  that  call 
them  forth.  One  man  writes  that  when  he  is 
joyful  he  uses  slang,  and  when  he  is  sorrowful 
he  does  not. 

Four  said  that  they  used  slang  anywhere 
and  under  any  circumstances.  One  said,  any- 
where in  Ann  Arbor.  Two  did  not  know  un- 
der what  circumstances  they  used  slang. 

6.  Under  what  circumstances  do  you  avoid  the 

use  of  slang  f    (Seventy  -eight  answers.) 

Nearly  all  who  made  answer  to  this  question 
said  that  they  refrained  from  using  slang  when 
in  the  presence  of  those  with  whom  they  were 
not  well  acquainted,  or  who  were  considerably 
older  than  they,  or  whom  they  regarded  as 
cultured  and  averse  to  slang.  Twenty- eight 
said  that  they  avoided  slang  when  they  were 
with  those  with  whom  they  were  not  on  familiar 
terms ;  nineteen,  when  with  their  elders ;  ten 
when  in  the  presence  of  ladies ;  forty-three 
when  talking  with  those  whom  they  regarded 
as  refined,  worthy  of  respect,  or  unaccustomed 
to  the  use  of  slang.  "  I  always  avoid  slang," 
writes  one,  "  when  conversing  with  a  professor 
or  tutor  of  English,  or  when  conversing  with 
any  hater  of  slang." 

Two  said  that  they  did  not  know  that  they 
avoided  the  use  of  slang  under  any  circum- 
stances. 

Two  said  that  they  avoided  it  outside  of 
Ann  Arbor. 

One  said  that  he  avoided  the  use  of  slang  in 
the  presence  of  young  people  before  whom  he 
wished  to  set  a  good  example. 

7.  What  effect  do  you  think  the  use  of  slang 

has  had  upon  your  vocabulary  f  If 
Possible  give  illustrations.  (Eighty-one 
answers.) 

Forty-eight  stated  that  the  use  of  slang  had 
tended  to  narrow  or  corrupt  their  vocabularies. 
"Slang  has  injured  my  vocabulary  in  this 
way,"  writes  one,  "when  I  wish  to  avoid 
using  it  I  talk  in  a  hesitating  manner,  trying  to 
select  words  in  place  of  the  slang  which  I 
have  been  in  the  habit  of  using."  One  writes, 

"I  think  slang  has  a  general  tendency  to 
diminish  one's  vocabulary,  for  one  will  use  one 
word  to  express  many  different  ideas;  for  in- 
stance, I  say  '  crazy,' when  I  mean  'horrid,' 


195 


39i          November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7. 


392 


'  homely  '  '  disgusting,'  or  anything  which  I  do 
not  like." 

The  word  'killing,'  another  uses  to  express 
many  different  ideas.  And  another  writes, 

"  I  think  slang  has  injured  my  vocabulary,  for 
I  often  find  it  impossible  to  think  of  a  good 
word  to  take  the  place  of  a  slang  expression  ; 
for  example,  I  am  sure  to  say  '  rattle  '  for  'con- 
fuse.' " 

Bui  not  enough  examples  of  this  kind  were 
cited  to  make  good  the  assertion  in  regard  to 
the  damaging  effect  of  slang  upon  the  vocabu- 
lary. 

Twenty-five  said  that,  so  far  as  they  knew, 
the  use  of  slang  had  had  little  or  no  effect 
upon  their  vocabularies.  A  few  of  these  at- 
tributed this  to  the  fact  that  they  had  used  but 
little  slang. 

Four  said  they  did  not  know  what  effect 
slang  had  had  upon  their  vocabularies. 

Five  said  that  slang  had  enlarged  their  vo- 
cabularies. The  reasoning  in  some  of  the 
answers  is  rather  ingenious.  One  writes, 

"  It  has  had  a  good  influence,  because,  having 
once  by  the  use  of  slang  expressed  a  thought 
before  a  common  audience,  I  have  to  hunt  up 
good  words  for  the  same  thought  when  giving 
it  to  an  educated  hearer.  Therefore,  it  has 
widened  my  vocabulary." 

And  another, 

"Slang  makes  my  vocabulary  broader  both 
on  account  of  the  slang  itself,  and  on  account 
of  the  incentive  it  gives  to  seek  words  to  take 
the  place  of  slang.  The  vocabulary  is  purified 
by  the  attention  paid  to  the  avoiding  of  slang." 

8.  Have  you  been  warned  against  the  use  of 
slang"!  When?  How?  What  reasons, 
if  any,  were  given?  What  influence  did 
the  warning  have?  (Seventy-three  an- 
swers.) 

Most  of  the  answers  to  this  question  were 
fragmentary.  Sixty-six,  or  about  ninety  per 
cent.,  said  that  they  had  been  warned  against 
the  use  of  slang  either  by  parents,  friends, 
teachers,  or  books,  or  by  some  or  all  combined. 
Seventeen  said  that  they  did  not  remember 
having  ever  been  warned  against  slang;  a  few 
of  these  attributed  this  to  the  fact  that  they 
had  been  little  given  to  its  use. 

The  reasons  given  for  the  warning  were  usu- 
ally that  slang  was  vulgar,  damaging  to  the 
vocabulary,  did  not  sound  nice,  was  ungentle- 


manly  or  unladylike,  as  the  case  may  be,  un- 
refined, etc. 

Forty-seven  referred  to  the  influence  of  the 
warning.  In  twenty-six  cases,  the  warning 
was  effective  and  caused  the  offender  to  use 
less  slang  or  to  eschew  it  altogether.  In 
twenty-one  cases,  the  warning  had  little  or  no 
effect.  According  to  this  evidence  the  warn- 
ing had  the  effect  desired  about  half  the  time. 

I  have  no  desire  to  put  forth  any  extensive 
attempts  at  interpretation  of  the  data  furnished 
by  these  students,  nor  do  I  think  that  the  data 
at  hand  are  sufficiently  exhaustive  to  warrant 
.  far-reaching  generalizations ;  they  are  sugges- 
tive rather  than  conclusive.  Two  or  three 
points,  however,  may  be  more  evident  than 
they  were  before.  One  is  that  the  slang  ques- 
tion is  not  so  simple  as  it  might  seem  at  first 
glance,  but  is  highly  complex.  The  various 
definitions  of  slang  and  classifications  of  slang 
expressions  that  have  been  proposed  by  the 
students  and  by  others,  point  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  is  not  one  slang,  but  many  slangs,  or 
different  kinds  of  slang,  which  represent,  in  a 
way,  different  classes  of  society,  different 
trades,  professions,  sports,  and  so  on.  Further- 
more, the  list  of  slang  expressions  that  have 
been  handed  in  shows  that  slang  expresses 
itself  in  a  great  variety  of  ways, — sometimes 
coining  words  outright;  sometimes  paring 
down  or  expanding  well  established  words ;  in 
a  few  instances,  going  to  the  opposite  extreme 
of  holding  on  to  words  that  have  been  out- 
grown or  repudiated  by  literary  language 
and,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  attaching  to 
words  and  phrases  new  meanings,  either  figu- 
rative or  intensive.  In  addition  to  this,  the 
reports  just  examined  show  how  varied  are 
the  effects  produced  by  slang, — effects  that  are 
due  not  only  to  the  nature  of  the  expressions 
themselves,  but  also  to  the  circumstances  in 
which  they  are  used,  and  to  the  character  of 
the  user.  If  the  bare  frames  of  these  general 
statements  be  filled  out  with  concrete  details 
as  illustrations,  the  slang  question  is  likely  to 
become  bewilderingly  complex;  and,  perhaps, 
it  may  seem  at  first  sight  as  if  the  chief  and 
only  value  of  the  investigations  undertaken  is 
to  bewilder  the  dogmatist  in  matters  of  usage. 

One  general  principle,  however,  may  be 
found,  I  think,  in  the  situation  before  us, — a 


196 


393          November,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7. 


principle  that  may  be  seen  at  work  in  all  mani- 
festations of  slang,  and  that  may  help  to  ex- 
plain all  of  its  effects.  It  is  the  principle  that 
slang  is  an  impulsive  protest  against  conven- 
tionality ;  that  it  is  a  reaction,  more  or  less 
conscious,  from  authority;  that  it  is  an  attempt 
to  break  away  from  the  established  customs  or 
habits  of  speech,  which  we  call  rules  of  gram- 
mar and  rhetoric,  and  laws  of  language.  I 
shall  not  try  to  go  behind  this  principle,  and 
show  of  what  sort  of  psychological  or  ethical 
stuff  it  is  made.  It  is  too  familiar  to  need  ex- 
planation in  order  to  be  intelligible.  The 
young  especially,  who  have  not  lived  very 
deeply  into  the  customs,  habits,  imperatives  of 
life,  and  to  whom  laws  may  appear  to  be  the 
arbitrary  dictates  of  a  more  or  less  external 
authority,  dictates  that  may  seem  to  deaden 
the  spontaneity  of  individual  impulses,  are 
likely  to  understand  what  is  meant  by  an  im- 
pulsive protest  against  conventionality.  This 
helps  to  explain  why  young  people  use  more 
slang  than  their  elders.  The  use  of  slang  by 
children,  for  example,  may  be  regarded  as  an 
indication  of  a  reaction,  a  breaking  away, 
more  or  less  unconscious,  of  course,  from  the 
earlier  restraints  of  the  home  and  family  life. 
It  is  significant  that  nearly  half  of  the  writers 
of  the  reports  we  have  been  considering  date 
their  use  of  slang  from  the  time  they  began 
going  to  school ;  for  this  time  marks  a  pretty 
decided  break  between  the  previous  life  in  the 
family  and  the  larger  life  in  the  community. 

Further  illustrations  might  be  given.  The 
principle  helps  to  explain  why  nearly  all,  ac- 
cording to  the  reports,  refrain  on  most  occa- 
sions from  the  use  of  slang  when  in  the  pres- 
ence of  older  people,  and  of  those  who  are 
seldom  known  to  transgress  a  rule.  It  also 
helps  to  account  for  the  fact  that  many  of  the 
writers  of  the  reports  regarded  slang  as  a  sign 
of  intimacy, — as  a  kind  of  lingo  that  is  used 
freely  only  when  with  boon-companions  of 
one's  own  age.  Those  who  react  from  au- 
thority, be  it  political,  religious,  or  linguistic, 
are  likely  to  be  closely  bound  together. 

Will  this  principle  explain  what  many  regard 
as  the  damaging  effect  of  slang  upon  the  vo- 
cabulary ?  In  part,  at  least.  It  should  be 
taken  into  account  that  this  principle  of  reac- 
tion, like  all  principles  of  reaction,  is  one- 


sided, is  partial,  is  only  one  half  of  the  whole 
situation,  so  to  speak  ;  for  that  from  which  it 
reacts  is  not  less  powerful,  else  there  would  be 
no  reaction  at  all.  The  whole  situation  is  the 
living  organism  that  we  call  language  :  habits, 
forms,  structure,  on  one  side ;  impulses  to 
expression  on  the  other.  That  kind  of  slang 
is  the  "slangiest"  which  is  most  reactionary, 
most  impulsive,  which  deviates  furthest  from 
the  established  habits,  or  rules  of  speech. 
Now,  in  the  physical  organism,  to  continue  the 
analogy  suggested  above,  those  impulses  that 
are  blindest,  that  deviate  furthest  from  the 
established  habits  of  action,  are  least  likely  to 
become  permanent  channels  of  activity ;  or,  if 
persisted  in,  are  liable  to  break  down  and 
disintegrate  the  organism.  Just  so  in  the  lin- 
guistic organism,  that  kind  of  slang  which 
reacts  most  violently  from  the  accepted  canons 
of  speech  is  either  likely  to  be  short-lived,  or, 
if  persisted  in,  is  liable  to  assume  the  functions 
hitherto  performed  by  more  highly  organized 
centers  of  speech,  and  thus  may  tend  to 
weaken  vocabulary.  To  be  a  slave  to  slang  is 
like  being  a  slave  to  any  other  raw,  unmediated 
impulse  or  passion.  So  few  illustrations  of 
the  damaging  effect  of  slang  upon  the  vocabu- 
lary were  mentioned  in  the  reports,  although 
forty-eight,  or  more  than  half,  testified  to  this 
damaging  effect,  that  these  general  statements 
must  be  left  hanging  in  the  air. 

It  may  seem  to  follow  from  the  foregoing 
paragraph  that  slang  is  wholly  bad  and  de- 
structive. Such  an  implication  was  not  in- 
tended, for  slang  has  a  good  side.  The  crea- 
'tion  of  slang  is  a  sign  of  life  in  language.  It 
is  only  the  senseless  repetition  of  warmed- 
over  slang  that  is  at  once  a  sign  and  cause  of 
linguistic  atrophy.  The  laws  of  normal  lan- 
guage development, — the  expressions  of  the 
moving  equilibrium  of  tension  between  ac- 
quired structure  and  fresh  impulses  to  ex- 
pression— with  these  slang  may  not  have  very 
much  to  do.  But  slang  is  a  sign  that  these 
impulses  are  active,  and  that  the  structure  of 
the  language  is  not  liable  to  stiffen  so  as  to 
become  an  inadequate  means  for  the  commu- 
nication of  new  ideas.  Then,  too,  slang  in  its 
impulsive  strivings  is  likely  to  hit  off  expres- 
sions that  are  of  real  service,  and  that  are 
destined  to  become  organic  elements  of  the 


197 


395 


November,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          396 


language  ;  it  may  become  at  its  best,  as  Walt 
Whitman1  and  Prof.  Brander  Matthews2  have 
asserted,  a  feeder  of  the  vocabulary. 

WILLARD  C.  GORE. 
University  of  Michigan. 


THE    CANCIONERO     GENERAL    DE 
CASTILLO,  EDITION  OF  1517. 

I. 

IN  the  Ticknor  collection  of  Spanish  books, 
now  part  of  the  splendid  Boston  Public  Libra- 
ry, there  is  a  copy  of  the  Cancionero  General, 
of  which  Ticknor  speaks  as  of  the  edition  of 
1535.1  He  was  led  to  regard  this  as  the  real 
date  by  the  last  folio  cxci  which  is  supplied  in 
writing  and  bears  the  written  colophon :  Fin. 
Impresso  en  Sevilla  ano  de  1535.  But  a  cur- 
sory collation  of  the  same  with  the  unchanged 
edition  of  1540,  as  given  in  'the  notes  of  the 
Cancionero  General  published  by  "La  So- 
ciedad  de  Bibli6filos  Espanoles,"2  is  sufficient 
to  convince  us  that  it  cannot  be  of  this  date;  on 
the  contrary.it  can  be  shown  to  be  the  important 
third  edition  of  1517,  a  copy  of  which  is  men- 
tioned by  Brunei  as  existing  in  the  National 
Library  at  Paris  but  which  the  "  Sociedad  " 
failed  to  obtain  and  to  incorporate  in  their 
edition  of  the  Cancionero .3 

In  Ticknor's  copy  the  title  page  and  the  table 
of  contents  are  wanting.  Of  the  first  folio 
there  is  but  one  upper  third  left  and  it  bears 

1  "Slang   in    America."   North   American   Review,   141, 
431-5- 

2  "The   Functions   of   Slang."    Harper's  Magazine,  87, 
304-12. 

1  "  I  possess  those  of  Sevilla  1535,  and  of  Anvers  1557  and 
1573."     History  of  Spanish  Literature,  1879,  vol.  i,  p.  459, 
note  8.     Cf.  also  ibid.,  p.  460,  n.  9;  p.  464,  n.  15;  p.  465,  n. 
18;  p.  467,  n.  20;  p.  470,  n.  26. 

2  "  En  cuanto  a  la  de  1535,  si  bien  no  la  hemos  tenido  a  la 
vista,  nos  hemos  valido  de  la  copia  manuscrita  de  ella,  que 
pertenecHi  a  D.  Agustin  Dur..n,  y  existe  hoy  en  la  Biblioteca 
Nacional,  signatura  M.  -313;  ademis  de  que  la  edicion  que 
le  sigue  de  1540,  est  i  copiada  de  ella  a  plana  y  renglon,  segun 
manifiesta  el  mismo  seftor  Duran  en  los  Apendices  a  su  Ro- 
tnancero   General."     Cancionero   General   de  Hernando  de 
Castillo  segun  la  edicion  de  1511,  con  un  apendice  de  lo  ana- 
dido  en  las  de  1527,  1540  y  1557.     Publicale  la  Sociedad  del 
Bibli.Ofilos  Espaiioles,  Madrid  1882,  p.  h. 

3  "Nuestras  m 's  minuciosas  investigaciones  ban  sido    in- 
fructuosas  para   obtener  las  de  1514,   1517,  1520  y  1535,  las 
cuales  no  existen  en  las  Bibliotecas  p..blicas  de  Madrid,  ni 
hemos  hallado  la  menor  noticia  ni  antecedente  de  que  puedan 
existir  en  alguna  particular,  siendo  esto  tanto  m  s  de  sentir, 
cuanto  que  aparece  indudable  que  desde  la  segunda  edicion 
del   Cancionero   comenzaron   a  suprimirse  algunas  composi- 
cionesdelaprimera,  y  aafiadirseAla  vez  otras  nuevas."'    Ibid. 


the  following  printed  inscription  : 

Cancionero  general    de    muchas    y    diuersas 

obras| 

de  todos  :  o  delos  mas  principales  trobadoresj 
despana :  ansi  antiguos  como  moedrnos  (sic) 

en  de| 

uocion:  enmoralidad:  en  amores:  en  burlas:  ro 
mances:  villancicos:  canciones:  letras  de  inuenj 
ciones  :  motes  :  glosas  :  preguntas  :  respue- 

stas.    Otra  vez  im[ 
presso  copilado  enmedado  y  corregido  por  el 

mesmo  Ferna) 
do  del  castillo.     Co  adicio  de  muchas  y  muy 

escogidas  obras| 
Cada  vna  en  su  lugar  por  gentil  orden  anadi- 

das. 

The  lower  part  of  this  folio  has  evidently 
been  cut  away  by  the  Office  of  the  Inquisition, 
for  on  the  clean  sheet  pasted  up  in  its  place 
we  find  written :  Este  libro  esta  expurgado 
por  el  expurgatorio  del  Sato  oficio  con  licencia 
J.  Baptista  Martinez.  On  the  reverse  of  this 
folio  there  are  left  thirty  lines  of  Mosen  Juan 
Tallante's  devotional  poerm  in  two  columns 
and  in  Gothic  characters,  in  which  the  whole 
of  the  book  is  printed,  beginning  respectively 
with : 


and  : 


preuiesses  secretos  de  qualquier  manera 


la  carne  inocente  con  sangre  placaste; 


the  last  two  lines  are  cut  through  the  middle 
but  can  be  made  out  by  comparison.  Folios 
ii-xvii  (inclusive),  which  contained  the  obras 
de  deuocion  are  wanting  ;  only  the  last  one,  in 
Valencian,  by  Vincent  Ferradis,  beginning 
with : 

Ans  quel  grjl  sol :  de  resplandor  eterna 

has  escaped  the  shears  of  the  Holy  Office  and 
is  found  on  f.  xviii. 

F.  Iv  is  mutilated,  an  irregular  large  piece 
being  torn  out  of  it ;  fs.  Ixxxix,  xc  and  xci  are 
wanting  and  are  supplied  in  writing  by  a  much 
later  hand  than  the  date  given  by  the  same 
copyist  in  the  colophon  ;  fs.  cv,  cvi,  cxii,  cxviii 
and  cxxxvi  are  slightly  injured;  fs.  cxv, 
cxxxvii,  clxxviii  and  clxxix  are  wanting.  All 
folios  after  cxc  are  gone,  but  part  of  cxci  is 
supplied  in  writing  and  contains  the  end  of 


4  No.  i  in  the  Canciontro  of  the  Sociedad. 


198 


397         November,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7. 


398 


Obras  del  Comtndador  Luduena  and  bears  the 
colophon. 

The  pagination  is  perfect,  except  in  two 
cases  where  there  are  merely  typographical 
errors.  The  poems  contained  in  the  book  will 
be  given  here  by  their  numbers  in  the  edition 
of  the  "  Sociedad,  '  those  of  the  appendix  be- 
ing starred  ;  where  a  first  and  a  last  number  of 
a  series  is  given,  the  last  is  inclusive.  It  is  to 
be  deplored  that  the  "  Sociedad  "  has  failed  to 
indicate  the  order  of  the  poems  in  each  edition, 
or  even  to  ascertain  what  poems  are  to  be 
found  in  each,  as  this  omission  makes  an  exact 
bibliography  of  the  different  editions  extreme- 
ly difficult — if  not  impossible. 

i  (thirty  lines  as  above).  Fs.  ii-xvii  wanting. 
23*  (title  lacking).  47,  48,  53,  55-60,  62-67,  69- 
78,  81,  83,  85-90,  92-103,  154*,  207*,  216*.  209*, 
214*,  213*,  215*,  2ii*,  212*,  208*,  210*,  104-113, 
115-117. 

After  the  line  of  the  last  poem  : 

que  les  de  mas  aparato 

and  at  the  bottom  of  f.  Hi  r.  is  printed :  El  fin 
d'stas  coplas  fallaras  delate  de  la  foja  q  prosi- 
gue  ;  then  comes  466,  at  the  end  of  which  (be- 
ing the  end  of  f.  liii)  is  written  :  Aqui  ala 
buelta  desta  foja  prosigue  las  coplas  que  que- 
dan  atras.  After  this,  on  f.  liii  r.,  117  pro- 
ceeds : 

118,  119,  121-124,  130,  131,  134,  136-172,  203*, 
I73-J93.  195.  198,  199.  201-21 1,  213-215,  217-219, 
222,  223,  227,  229,  230,  232-235,  238-263. 

The  latter  goes  as  far  as  : 

y  por  enxemplo  procure, 

then  follow  fs.  Ixxxix-xci  in  manuscript  and 
contain  the  end  of  263,  198*,  196*,  197*,  271- 
274  as  far  as  : 

RespOdiome  pues  q  vienes, 

from  which  the  text  proceeds  with  274,  275, 
276,  174*,  176*,  183*,  194*,  191*,  187*,  184*.  188*, 
180*,  177*,  181*,  182*,  175*,  195*,  277-288,  290, 
292-304,  306-326,  328-337,  339-349.  351-358,  362- 
364,  366-370,  373-376,  378,  383-408,  413-419,  421, 
423-429,  153*,  204*,  i56*-is8*,  114*,  193*,  179*, 
118*,  190*,  171*.  167*,  168*.  163*,  113*,  143*, 
150*,  138*,  148*.  185*,  173*,  189*,  178*,  186*,  192*. 
160*,  433-462,  465,  467-478,  222*,  223*,  480,  448, 
481  only  the  first  three  lines. 
F.  cxv  wanting ;  f.  cxvi  begins  with  : 

saco  por  cimcra,  etc., 


of  the  title  of  513,  514-550,  553-557.  559-588. 
590-593.  226*,  225*.  224*,  594-617,  619,  621-626, 
628-634,  229*,  227*,  228*,  635-650,  652-667,  669, 
67i-673.  676-683,  235*,  239*,  232*,  237*,  238*, 
236*,  234*,  233*,  141*,  241*,  240*,  231*,  686-692, 
734,  737-740,  745,  746,  752,  753,  768,  769,  790,  791, 
255*.  256*.  251*,  252*,  693-696,  698-733,  743,  744, 
748,  749.  754-767,  770-773,  784-786,  253*,  254*, 
244*.  245*.  242*.  243*.  255*.  256*.  246*-249*,  152*. 
329,5  130*,  1 27*-!  29*,  126*,  125*. 

After  this  is  a  copla  by  Costana  which, 
though  given  in  the  editions  of  1557  and  1573 
and  mentioned  in  a  manuscript  copy  (in  the 
Ticknor  collection)  of  the  contents  of  the  1514 
edition,  is  strangely  omitted  from  the  edition 
of  the  "  Sociedad,"  hence  it  will  be  given  here 
in  full : 

otras  iuyas  al  sobrenTibre  tie  vn*  seilora 
que  se  llamaua  peila. 
Tiene  tanta  flier  a  amor 
puede  tanto  y  es  tan  fuertc 
que  por  mostrarse  ma/or 
enel  mesmo"  ser  conuierte 
del  amado  al  amador 
y   porquen?  mi  se  mostrasse 
como  encanta  y  enuelefia 
y  con  ansias  no  causasse 
ni  a  fuertes  golpes  qbrasse 
lii/ome  todo  de  peiia. 
De  qnto  amor  fue  sembrado 
alguno  llego  a  granar 
mucho  se  perdio  ahogado 
mucho  con  apedrear 
mucho  por  ser  aneblado* 
mas  alo  menos  prendio 
pues  ya  nacido  sensefta? 
lo  que  trist*  sembre  yo 
no  prendio  que  s«  perdio 
por  que  cayo  en  dura  pena.JO 

Fin. 

Si  el  bien  del  edificar 
consiste  enel  buen  cimiento 
nadie  me  podra  minar11 
teniendo  tal  fundamento" 
ni  ganar  ni  derribar 
q  como  amor  me  labrasse  • 

por  aK,;ir  en  mi  su  sefia 
q  nadie  se  la  ganasse 
porque  mil  siglos  durasse 
hizome  todo  de  pefia. 

5  This  was  given  before  and  is  repeated  here  for  the  fol. 
lowing  glosa. 

6  Eds.  of  1557  and  1573  mismo. 

7  porque  en.  S  afiublado.  9  se  ensefia. 

10  pefia. 

11  pedria  mirar,  which  makes  no  sense.  » 

12  fundamiento. 


199 


399 


November,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          400 


794,  164*,  170*,  169*,  165*,  166*,  265,  266,  268- 
270,  267,  795-802,  804,  805,  807,  811-813,  818-822, 
824,  825,  827,  828,  832,  833,  841-843,  846,  855- 

857,    220*,    221*,    199*,    201*,  202*,  858-874,    2OO*, 

217*.  159*,   112*,  117*.   U5*.  Il6*,  875-877,  879, 

880,    884-907,    910-915,    917,    918,    921-923,     927, 

933.  938-943»  945,  946,  949.  95«.  954.  955.  218*. 
219*,  957-962,  147*,  as  far  as  : 

que  si  pienso  doluidalla. 

Fs.  clxxviii  and  clxxix  wanting.  120*,  be- 
ginning with 

a  tu  cuyta  mas  doblada 
230*,  162*,    l6l*,    III*,    205*,    121*,    122*,  124*, 

206*,  123*,  172*,  155*  as  far  as  : 

y  enla  haz  dos  mil  remedies. 

The  end  of  this  work  of  Luduefia  on  f.  cxci 
is  in  handwriting. 

That  this  is  not  the  1535  edition  is  evident 
from  the  many  variations  in  reading  which  it 
offers  in  comparison  with  that  of  1540.  Nor 
can  it  be  of  1527  from  which  it  also  differs  in 
spelling  and  sometimes  in  reading,  as  can  be 
seen  by  comparing  any  poem.  Let  us  take 
for  example,  the  first  Valencian  poem  (23*), 
and  let  us  call,  with  the  "Sociedad,"  the  edi- 
tions of  1527,  1540,  1557,  B,  C  and  D  respec- 
tively. The  following  variants  from  the  latter 
occur  in  our  text : 

mort,  tot  BC  mor,  tal ;  D  mort,  tot 

raigs  BC  ragis  ;  D  rags 

vtus  BCD  virtuts 

comecat:  ea  BC  comencante  a;  D  ...  ha 

ab  BC  al ;  D  ab 

tanta  BC  tanta  ;  D  tant 

mostraus  BCD  mostrans 

daquell  BD  daquell ;  C  daquel 

eel  B  cef ;  CD  eel 

etc. 

That  it  is  not  identical  with  the  edition  of 
1520  can  be  seen  from  the  inscription  on  f.  i 
which  in  the  latter  edition,  according  to  Salvd 
y  Mallen,  has  a  different  punctuation  and  two 
words  modcrnos  and  ympresso  for  moedrnos 
and  impresso  of  our  text ;  that  Salv&'s  reading 
is  correct  is  corroborated  by  a  copy  of  the 
same  year  offered  for  sale  (,£".120)  by  Bernard 
Quaritch  in  his  catalogue  for  1895,  in  which 
the^dentical  title  is  given. 

It  differs  from  the  edition  of  1514  in  its  pagi- 
nation and  a  few  poems;  hence,  unless  the 


statement  in  Le  Bibliophile  Beiges  that 
there  are  more  than  nine  editions  be  correct, 
it  can  be  only  that  of  1517. 

From  the  manuscript  copy  of  the  table  of 
contents  of  the  Cancionero  of  1514  we  find  that 
it  differs  from  those  of  1511  and  1517  in  the 
following : 

Of  the  devotional  songs  are  wanting  18,  19, 
20,  21,  that  is,  all  but  one  of  Sazedo's.  After 
25  comes  25* ;  then  the  long  Psalms  by  Pero 
Guillen  de  Segouia  (26)  are  omitted.  36  omit- 
ted. After  45  we  have  24*,  32*,  i*,  2*,  27*, 
29*,  28*,  26*,  479,  30*,  31*.  Then  comes  46 
and  3*-23*,  the  last  of  which  is  the  only  one 
preserved  in  our  text. 

It  then  coincides  with  our  textM  as  far  as 
480  inclusive.  448  is  not  repeated  to  judge 
from  the  table  of  contents,  but  that  is  not  cer- 
tain. After  this  the  title  reads  : 

Las  inuenciones  y  letras  de  justadores  que 
son  ciento  y  seys  comien^an  a  ciento  y  diez  y 
nueve  focas  y  acaban  a  ciento  y  veynte  et  dos 
con  las  anadidas  estas  que  siguen, 

after  which  three, 226*,225*,224*,are  mentioned. 
As  f.  cxc  of  our  text  is  wanting,  the  whole 
number  of  inuenciones  cannot  be  ascertained, 
but  it  certainly  was  less  than  106,  if  the  num- 
ber is  the  same  as  in  the  edition  of  1517 ;  the 
title  of  the  1511  edition  has  in  this  case  not 
been  changed.  In  our  text  the  inuenciones 
occupy  fs.  cxiiii-cxviii. 

After  this  come  the  glosas  de  motes  as  in  our 
text,  and  then  the  villancicos  up  to  673,  which 
is  not  given.  The  same  order  is  resumed  with 
676  and  proceeds  as  far  as  the  end. '5 

The  wanting  fs.  clxxviii  and  clxxix,  to  judge 

13  "  Tel  fut  le  succes  qu'il  obtint,  qu'on  le  r.':imprima  coup 
sur  coup  1  Valence,  en  1514,  1517,  15x6;  aTol:de,  601517, 
1520,1526;  a  Seville  en  1527,   1535,  1540;  -i  Anvers,  en  1557, 
1568,1573611578."    Le  Bibliophile  Beige,  T.  iif  p.  41.     But 
none  of  the  later  writers  on  the  subject  seem   to  know  any- 
thing of  the  1526,  1568  and  1578  editions,  or  of  more  than  one 
1517  edition. 

14  73  is  not  given  in  the  table  of  contents,  but  was  probably 
incorporated  by  the  copyist  in  72,  as  it  is  a  rtspucsta  to  the 
previous  one;  the  same  is  also  the  case  with  78,  212*,  which  are 
respuestas.    The  wanting  glosa.^  174,  is  no  doubt  incorporated 
in  the  previous  one  as  the  next  bears  the  title:  Otra&esa;  the 
same  is  true  of  179,  181.    After  O  desastrada  ventura  (232) 
the  copyist  gives   the   title   of  another  poem  beginning:   O 
sierras  de  Guadelupe,  but  this  is  «vidently  a  mistake  being 
the  second  line  of  the  preceding.    After  465  comes  theg-tosa 
de  Soria.  which  in  our  text  is  inserted  in  117. 

15  The  respuestas  and  a  few  flosas  are  not  mentioned. 


200 


401          November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.         402 


from  the  1514  edition,  contained  the  end  of 
147*,  131*.  142*,  140*,  i36*.  !5i*.  J39*.  *45*. 
146*.  137*,  134*.  149*.  i32*.  135*.  144*.  J33*. 
120*.  Then  it  agrees  with  our  text  as  far  as 
162*,  which  is  not  given.  It  proceeds  with 
161*  to  the  end  of  our  text.  After  this  are 
given  Las  Obrasdc  Burlas  that  have  evidently 
been  cut  out  of  our  book. 

Las  Obras  de  Burlas  in  the  edition  of  1514 
contain  the  following  numbers :  257*  (Pleyto 
del  Manto),  966,  969,  971,  972,  977,  979-981,  985- 
990,  994,  996-1012,  1015-1020,  1023-1025,  1027- 
1033,  265*,  266*,  259*,  261*,  263*,  262*,  258*. 
II. 

The  coplas  del  Bachiller  de  la  Torre  in  our 
text  have  been  copiously  corrected  in  manu- 
script by  a  hand  probably  not  much  later  than 
the  date  of  printing.  In  some  cases  these  cor- 
rections bring  the  text  in  accord  with  the  co- 
plas in  the  Cancionero  de  Stuniga,  but  fre- 
quently they  differ  from  the  latter.  The  var- 
iants of  the  text  (A)  and  of  the  corrections  (M) 
will  be  given  here,  line  and  stanza  of  each 
copla  being  mentioned. 

El  triste  que  mas  morir. 

I.  3,  A  beuir;  5,  A  porque,  M  que.  II.  3,  A  la 
carta,  M  el  papel ;  7,  A  vitoria.  III.  i,  M  ya 
(sefiora) ;  4,  M  no  (entendiendo).  IV.  3,  M 
siendo  el  alma  preparada ;  5,  M  tanto.  V.  3, 
A  no  viniera  a  lo  que  vino,  M  en  lo ;  4,  M  ni 
(me  viera) ;  8,  A  padeciera.  VI.  3,  A  padecer; 
5,  M  del  mundo,  y  bida  (divyso  ?) ;  6,  A  di- 
xeran ;  7,  M  desapiadada ;  10,  M  la  vida  (me 
fue  dexada).  VII.  2,  A  crecer  ;  3,  M  y  bastar; 
8,  M  porque.  VIII.  6,  A  conocer;  8,  M  difi- 
cultosa  de  aber.  IX.  5,  M  (que)  en  ?  (jamas) ; 
7,  A  conocido.  X.  2,  M  sin  punto  de  piedad  ; 
4,  A  tambien  ;  5,  M  stricken  out ;  after  las  le- 
das  consolaciones  is  written  in  the  margin: 

todos  las  saben  tomar 
mas  en  las  persecuciones, 

thus  bringing  it  more  in   harmony  with  the 
Estuniga  text. 

Fin. 
3,  M  sienpre  (for  jamas) ;  4,  A  estuuiere. 

Esparsa  suya  (169) 
9,  A  biuir 

Otras  suyas  a  su  amiga  (170). 
I.  i,  A  conocedes  conocida ;  3,  A  fenezco ; 


4,  M  (y  pienso)  que  (ya  es  venido) ;  7,  A  deuas, 
M  deua ;  8,  A  tomaras.  II.  2,  A  fueste  matar. 
III.  2,  A  padeciesse;  5,  Agalardon.  IV.  2,  A 
que  su  pensar  me  terrece ;  4,  A  cessa ;  5,  A 
padece,  M  perece  (?) ;  10,  M  (no  biua)  sienpre 
(nuiriendo).  V.  6,  A  yo  left  out,  M  yo,  A 
dudo;  8,  M  feretro  (?)  (for  gestd)\  10  M  y 
Achiles. 

Fin. 

4,  A  ciente ;  7,  A  triste  de  mi ;  9,  M  con- 
migo  (?  corrigo) ;  10,  A  biuir. 

Otras  suyas  (171). 

II.  6,  A  fenecido ;  10,  A  quieromas  descon- 
suelo,  M  mi  (desconsuelo). 

Otras  suyas  (\T2). 

I.  i,  A  se  acrecieta;  4,  A  parece ;  5,  A 
crece  ;  6,  A  saiga,  M  sale  ;  7,  A  galardon. 

fin. 

3,  A  salir;  4,  A  biuir. 

Otras  suyas  (203*). 

I.  2,  M  refieren ;  8,  A  mueve,  M  (mueve)  y. 
II.  i,  M  (mis  conceptos)  y  (opinion);  2,  M  con- 
trasta ;  5,  M  (hallo  con  forme)  a  (razon) ;  IV. 
3,  A  merecer ;  4,  A  acrecentar ;  8,  M  a  (la  em- 
bidia).  V.  i,  M  (pero  en  las  partes)  de  (aquel- 
los) ;  3,  M  que  por  no  ofender  la  honor ;  5,  M 
encubro  su  disfabor.  VIII.  4,  M  quanto  ;  5,  M 
ser;  6,  A  conocido;  9,  A  mil.  IX.  3,  A  y. 
X.  i,  M  (en)  un  (estraflo  mal) ;  2,  A  gesto;  8, 
A  graueza.  XI.  3,  A  mismo.  XII.  i,  M  (pues) 
q  (no  viene);  5,  M  vos  *  (senora  ?)  que  (tal  es- 
tado) ;  8,  A  asegurado. 

Fin. 

3,  A  laoguido  (sic),  M  laguido.  5,  A  quie 
loha  passado. 

LEO  WIENER. 
Harvard  University. 


THE  MISRENDERING    OF  NUMER- 
ALS,   PARTICULARLY  IN   THE 
OLD-ENGLISH  VERSION  OF 
BED&S  HIS  TOR  Y. 

IN  reading  the  abstract  of  the  paper  "  Did 
King  Alfred  Translate  the  Historia  Ecclesi- 
astica?"  presented  by  Dr.  Pearce  before  the 
Modern  Language  Association,  Dec.  28,  1892, 
I  noticed  that  he  argues  from  themisrendering 


201 


403         November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.  404 


of  certain  numerals  that  the  portions  where 
these  misrenderings  occur  must  be  the  work 
of  scholars  of  inferior  learning.  In  forming 
this  judgment,  Dr.  Pearce  was  probably  in- 
fluenced by  observing  the  frequent  distortions 
of  numerals  in  the  Orosius  (cf.  Schilling,  p.  32) 
alongside  of  evident  blunders  in  translation. 
A  closer  examination  of  the  cases  in  the  Bede 
makes  it  certain  that  they,  at  least,  are  not 
due  to  ignorance  of  Latin,  but  to  perfectly 
natural  misreading  of  the  characters  used  to 
represent  the  names  of  the  numerals,  just 
such  mistakes  as  we  make  to-day. 

Dr.  Pearce  points  out  three  cases  of  9  for  8, 
one  of  592  for  582,  two  of  7  for  8,  and  one  each 
of  8  for  9,  4  for  7,  12  for  13,  and  13  for  n.  The 
numbers  used  were,  of  course,  the  Roman, 
and  we  must  remember  that  5  was  \j  or  u,  but 
that  u  might  also  stand  for  n.,  that  is  2  (cf. 
Wattenbach's  Anleitung,  p.  97),  and  that  4 
might  appear  as  mi  or  ny  or  uu  or  uq  or 
|n|  etc.,  and  that  9  was  uilil  or  i^uu  or 
1\  iu)  etc.  We  shall,  therefore,  expect  mis- 
reading of  numbers,  especially  if  they  contain 
u,  or  u  or  x  followed  by  several  i's,  the  mind 
having  to  remember  not  only  the  number  of 
strokes  but  also  the  nature  of  the  preceding 
character.  Expressed  in  Roman  numerals  the 
ten  cases  in  the  Bede  are  : — 


i 

2 

3 
4 
5 
6 

7 
8 

9 
10 


Ulll 

inn 

Ulll 

nun 

Ulll 
Ulll 
Xlll 
XI 

dlxxxn 
un 


misread 


Ullll 

unit 

Ullll 

um 
un 
un 

XII 

xin 

dlxxxxn 

1111 


In  other  words,  in  the  first  seven  cases  the 
translator  has  miscounted  by  one  stroke ;  in 
the  eighth  by  two ;  in  the  ninth  by  one  char- 
acter of  two  strokes  ;  in  the  tenth  case  he  has 
made  an  even  more  pardonable  mistake.  The 
only  case  that  seems  stupid  is  the  eighth. 

As  such  slips  may  occasionally  occur  to  any- 
body, it  is  evident  that  they  cannot  be  used 
as  an  argument  to  prove  the  presence  of  dif- 
ferent hands  in  the  work  of  translating  the 
Bede. 


The  mistakes  in  the  Orosius  present  more 
complicated  and  even  more  interesting  prob- 
lems. They  reveal  different  mental  tenden- 
cies from  those  betrayed  in  the  Bede ;  for  ex- 
ample, inversion  :  vi  for  iv  and  ix  for  xi.  The 
confusion  between  x  and  v  is  due  to  the  fact 
that  the  form  of  v  often  approached  (for  ex- 
ample, \^)  that  of  x  (cf.  Wattenbach) ;  its 
frequency  may  be  judged  from  the  German 
idiom  "einem  ein  x  fur  ein  u  (v)  machen."  The 
writing  iiiix  for  45  (Orosius  78,  2)  shows  that 
the  translator  (or  early  copyist)  did  not  consider 
the  real  value  of  the  numerals  but  transferred 
them  mechanically,  just  as  we  to-day  might 
read  xxxxv  as  "four  x's  (and  a)  v."  This  got 
written  "four  x,"  that  is  mix,  and  the  mind's 
image  of  four  like  characters  followed  by  a 
different  one  was  satisfied  and  thus  the  v  was 
lost. 

The  determination  of  the  characteristic  mis- 
takes of  a  copyist  or  translator  is  of  great  im- 
portance :  it  furnishes  a  standard  by  which  to 
judge  of  the  probability  of  a  mistake  implied 
in  a  conjectured  reading;  it  may  also  lead  to 
the  identification  of  the  work  of  a  writer,  or, 
in  such  a  case  as  this,  of  the  original  Ms.  em- 
ployed by  the  translator.  For  example,  xlv 
could  never  have  formed  the  direct  basis  of 
iiiix ;  but  xxxxv  could,  as  shown  above.  I 
shall  soon  report  fully  the  characteristic  mis- 
takes of  the  copyist  of  the  Lauderdale  manu- 
script of  the  Orosius  and  have  set  students  at 
work  on  other  texts. 

GEORGE  HEMPL. 
University  of  Michigan. 


THE   SO-CALLED    PROSE    VERSION 
OF  GUY  OF  WARWICK. 

IN  1889  the  late  Professor  Morley  pubfished  in 
vol.  iv  of  the  Carisbrooke  Library  a  prose 
romance  of  Guy  of  Warwick,  in  the  introduc- 
tion to  which  he  described  this  version  as 
follows : — 

"The  next  story  in  our  collection  is  a  comic 
specimen  of  popular  heroics,  a  tall  copy  of 
the  widely  popular  tale  of  "Guy  of  Warwick." 
Its  writer  towered  above  common  men  with 
eloquence  raised  high  upon  the  stilts  of  blank 
verse  that  was  printed  like  to  prose.  Prose 
has  its  music,  but  is  always  bad  when  it  so 
runs  into  successive  lines  of  metre  that  the 
artifice  is  obvious.  Such  artifice  of  manner 


202 


405  'November,  1896.    MODERN  LANG U AC E  NOTES.    Vol.  xi,  No.  7. 


406 


weakens  faith  in  the  sincerity  of  what  it  said." 
"As  a  metrical  romance,  '  Guy  of  Warwick' 
is  as  old  as  the  thirteenth  century,  and  has 
been  doubtfully  ascribed  to  a  Franciscan  friar, 
Walter  of  Exeter.  The  story  of  Guy  is  laid  in 
days  before  the  Norman  conquest,  and  asso- 
ciated with  the  days  of  King  Athelstane  and  the 
battle  of  Brunanburgh.  Guy  is  said  to  have 
been  the  son  of  Siward,  Baron  of  Wallingforcl, 
to  have  married  Felice,  only  daughter  of  the 
Saxon  warrior  Rohand,  to  have  lived  as  a 
hermit  after  overcoming  Colbrond  the  Dane, 
and  to  have  died  in  the  year  929.  The  ro- 
mance sprang  from  the  life  of  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury. In  the  prose  form  here  given  its  medi- 
aeval spirit  is  not  wholly  lost  under  the  fine 
rhetoric  of  clothe  with  which  its  body  is  over- 
laid. The  earliest  edition  of  the  romance  in 
French  prose  was  printed  at  Paris  in  1525. 
The  earliest  edition  in  English  prose  was 
printed  by  William  Copland,  who  died  before 
1570." 

On  reading  the  romance  as  edited  by  Pro- 
fessor Morley  one  is  instantly  struck  by  the 
rhythm,  which  is  effected  not  only  by  the  ar- 
rangement of  words,  but  also  by  the  use  of 
stops.  A  large  number  of  sentences  and 
paragraphs  may  be  easily  divided  off  into 
blank  verse.  The  blank  verse  .so  obtained 
does  not  conform  strictly  to  the  five-accented, 
ten-syllable  type ;  feminine  endings  are  com- 
mon, the  accent  shifts,  and  there  is  a  freedom 
of  handling  that  suggests  blank  verse  of  late 
sixteenth  century,  rather  than  the  more  rigid 
forms  before  Shakespere.  It  is  after  one  has 
admitted  with  the  editor  that,  as  prose,  the 
romance  is  not  agreeable  reading,  that  one 
turns  it  into  blank  verse  and  examines  its 
metrical  qualities,  when  the  marks  of  good 
blank  verse,  noted  above,  are  apparent. 

At  this  point  the  reader  feels  surprise  that 
blank  verse  of  this  kind  should  have  been 
written  within  the  lifetime  of  Copland,  and  that 
no  further  notice  has  been  taken  of  it.  I  was 
therefore  prompted  to  find  out,  if  possible,  from 
the  British  Museum  and  the  Bodleian  Library 
the  exact  date  of  the  prose  version.  Through 
the  kindness  of  the  Librarian  of  the  Bodleian 
it  was  learned  that  that  Library  had  only  "a 
single  leaf,  corresponding  to  vv.  10269-10489, 
ed.  Zupitza  1883.  [London,  W.  de  Woordt  c. 
1505] ;"  and  "  Lhystoire  de  Guy  de  vvaruich 
chevalier  d  Angleterre  [in  prose]  par  Jehan 
Bonfons,  s.  a ;  4:  [before  1550?].  In  addition 
to  this  there  was  sent  a  quotation  from  Ames 


and  Herbert  Typog.  Antiq..  vol.,  i.  p.  367. 
"Guy  Earl  of  Warwick  " 

Begins : — Sithen  the  tyme  .  .  . 

Ends: — "Here  endeth  the  booke  of  the 
moste  victoryous  prynce.Guy  of  Warwick.  Im- 
prynted  at  London,  in  Lothbridge  ...  by 
Wyllyam  Copland  [no  date,  but  between  1548 
and  1569]  80." 

The  quotation  from  Ames  is  short,  but  it  is 
long  enough  to  show  that  the  language  in  this 
edition  of  Copland  is  quite  different  from  that 
in  Morley's  text.  Morley  evidently  modern- 
ized his  version  throughout,  but  aside  from 
spelling  the  beginning  and  ending  of  the  ver- 
sion described  in  Ames  are  also  different  from 
the  beginning  and  ending  in  Motley. 

From  the  British  Museum,  Dr.  Garnett  sent 
the  results  of  a  search  for  a  prose  version  of 
Guy.  He  found  none.  There  was  an  exceed- 
ingly imperfect  copy  df  the  romance  in  metre 
"printed  by  W.  Copland  about  1560."  Pro- 
fessor Arber  added  to  the  negative  evidence 
by  finding  no  entry  of  a  prose  version  in  the 
Stationer's  Register. 

The  result  of  the  enquiry  is  plain  :  where  is 
the  '  tall  copy  '  from  which  Professor  Morley 
took  his  text?  It  may  have  been  in  one  of 
the  many  scattered  libraries  in  England,  but 
in  any  case  the  source  should  have  been  given, 
otherwise  Morley's  sentence  about  Copland's 
prose  version  and  the  facts  at  hand  contradict 
each  other  flatly. 

In  looking  for  other  references  to  a  prose 
version  of  Guy  o/^  Warwick  I  have  met  with 
no  better  success.  Zupitza,  in  the  fourteenth 
volume  of  The  Proceedings  of  the  Vienna 
Academy,  published  an  article  "  Zur  litteratur- 
geschichte  des  Guy  von  Warwick."  I  have 
not  been  able  to  get  this  volume,  but  from  a 
collateral  reference  in  Tanner's  dissertation1 
it  seems  that  the  article  had  to  do  with  M.  E. 
translations  from  the  French.  In  his  edition 
of  the  metrical  version  for  the  E.  E.  T.  S., 
Zupitza  says  nothing  about  an  English  prose 
version. 

Before  making  a  careful  study  of  such  verse 
as  we  may  mark  off  from  Morley's .  text,  it 

i  Die  sage  von  Guy  -von  Warwick.  Heidelberg,  Diss.  v. 
A.  Tanner,  Bonn.  1877.  In  part  v,  p.  49  ff.  Tanner  gives  a 
good  list  of  MSS.  and  editions;  but  he  makes  no  mention  of 
an  English  prose  version  in  print. 


203 


407          November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.  408 


would, of  course,  be  necessary  to  inquire  further 
into  the  integrity  of  this  text.  It  has  been 
said  that,  supposing  the  prose  version  to  have 
been  printed  by  Copland,  "  who  died  before 
1570,"  the  spelling  has  been  modernized. 
This  in  itself  throws  suspicion  upon  the  text 
as  a  whole,  and  possibilities  of  further  editorial 
changes  suggest  themselves. 

It  is  certain  however  that  Copland  did  print 
a  metrical  version  of  Guy  of  Warwick,  prob- 
ably about  1560.  If  there  is  anything  in  the 
versification  to  suggest  blank  verse  the  fact 
should  be  known,  for  all  blank  verse  or  ap- 
proximations to  it  at  such  a  date,  are  import- 
ant; if  on  the  other  hand,  Copland's  verse 
was  in  a  different  metre,  or  even  in  parts  in 
the  ten-syllable  couplet,  that  fact  should  be 
known,  to  counteract  the  impression  made  by 
Professor  Morley's  introduction.  But  one  can- 
not be  far  wrong  in  relying  upon  Tanner's  de- 
scription of  Copland's  version.  It  consists  of 
one  hundred  and  forty-one  leaves ;  it  is  writ- 
ten— if  the  rest  be  like  the  first  four  lines — in 
four-accent  couplets,  and  is  printed  from 
Auchinleck  Ms.  nos.  24  and  54.  (Zupitza  a.) 
I  have  not  been  able  thus  far  to  show  that  this 
actually  describes  the  imperfect  Copland  print 
in  the  British  Museum,  but  there  seems  to  be 
little  doubt  that  it  is  this  print  which  is  so 
described. 

It  is  unfortunate  that  we  do  not  know  more 
about  Copland.  If  it  could  be  shown — and 
the  burden  of  proof  is  heavy  despite  Prof. 
Morley's  easy  assertion — that  Copland  printed 
a  prose  version  of  Guy  between  1545  and  1565, 
and  that  lines  of  very  fair  blank  verse  may  be 
cut  out  of  this  version,  then  a  codicil  would 
be  found  to  the  legacy  left  by  Surrey  in  his 
jEneid,  and  by  Sackville  and  Norton  in 
Gorbaduc.  And  with  the  possibility  that  here 
presents  itself,  it  is  doubly  strange  that  Morley2 
did  not  refer  to  this  rhythmical  prose  version 

2  Many  of  Copland's  books  were  undated.  Collier,  in  his 
Extracts  from  the  Stationer's  Register,  London,  1848,  notes 
the  following : — Adam  Bel  etc.,  under  Kynge's  Adam  Bel, 
entered  1557-^8  (p.  15).  The  vij  •wise  Mrs.  of  Rome,  entered 
by  Marshe  1558-9.  Under  this  entry  Collier  says  "W. 
Copland  published  '  the  seven  wyse  Maysters  of  Rome ' 
without  date:  but  we  know  of  no  edition  by  Marshe"  (p.  16). 
An  edition  of  Copland's  Squire  of  Low  Degree  was  published 
without  date  before  King's  edition  of  1560  (p.  27).  In  Cop. 
land's  edition  of  Jnventus  a  prayer  for  Elizabeth  was  inserted 
where  Vele  in  his  edition  had  a  prayer  for  Edward  VI.  Un- 


in   his   paragraph  on  the  Italian  versi  sciolti' 
and  the  beginnings  of  English  blank  verse  in 
English  Writers,  vol.  viii,  pp.  61  and  214. 

Some  apology  might  be  made  for  an  ex- 
tended reference  to  what,  perhaps,  should  not 
be  taken  too  seriously.  But  either  something 
more  is  to  be  said  about  the  first  English  blank 
verse,  or  else  the  statement  of  the  late  Pro- 
fessor Morley  about  a  contemporary  rhythmical 
prose  romance  of  Guy  of  Warwick  should  be 
modified. 

W.  P.  REEVES. 
Union  College. 


NO  TES  ON  HA  LL'S  CONCISE  ANGL O- 
SAXON  DICTIONAR  Y.     II. 

ACCORDING  to  Hall  there  is  a  word  egur= 
eagor,  sn.  ?,  'flood,  tide,  sea.'  If  we  look  up 
the  reference  given28  we  find  it  to  be  identical 
with  the  egur  glossing  dodrans  WW.  18,  20, 
which  Hall  has  entered  in  the  form  occurring 
WW.  368,  29 ;  474,  4 :  egor,  although  he  did 
not  understand  it.  If  we  compare  Byrhtferth's 
Handboc,  198  (Anglia,\m,  334)  dodrans  oSSe 
dodras  pest  synt  pa  nigon  dcelas,  it  would 
seem  that  egur,  egor,  represents  the  rest 
of  the  mutilated  gloss  dodrans  (  [pa  n]  e- 
gun  \dcelas\.  \  \  [pa  n\  e- 

gon.  \  However,  as  we  find  WW.  225, 

ii  dodrans  i.  inalina  egur  and  C.  G.  L.  v. 
572,  21  malinas  maiores  estus  (=aestus),  and 
as  there  is  a  dialect  English  eagre  (egre)  '  the 
tidal  bore'  egur  may  be  all  right,  after  all,  and 
dodrans  a  corruption  of  [re-\  dondans=re dun- 
dans  that  may  represent  the  remnant  of  a 
former  acstus  redundans  unda  i.  inalina  egur. 
Examples  of  such  mutilated  glosses  are  by  no 
means  rare. 

Sweet,  however,  here  (as  elsewhere,  when 
hard  pressed  for  an  explanation),  had'paid  no 
attention  to  the  Latin  word  at  all,  in  fixing  the 
meaning  of  the  word,  and  Hall  entered  what 
he  found.  Under  these  circumstances  it  is  a 

der  entry  John  Kynge,  Juventus,  Aug.  14,  1560,  Collier  says 
"  Perhaps  he  relinquished  his  right  [in  the  yuventus}  to 
William  Copland  "  (p.  29). 

Collier  gives  one  entry  by  Copland  in  1560;  three  in  1561-2; 
three  in  1562-3;  one  in  1563-4;  one  in  1565-6;  and  one  in 
1567-8.  Copland's  activity  seems  to  have  ended  with  the 
jast  year.  Goroaducwas  entered  by  '  Wylliam  greffeth  '  in 
1565- 

28  OET.  Cf.  702. 


204 


409         November,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7. 


410 


real  wonder  that  he  did  not  propagate  Sweet's 
blunder:  scyfel,  sm.,  'instigator,  god  of  war,' 
which  refers  to  the  same  glosses  on  which 
Hall's  correct  entry  :  scyfel,  sf.,  scyfele,  wf., 
'woman's  hood,'  is  based.  29 

But,  in  return,  he  took  up  Sweet's  :  grund- 
sopa,  wm.,  'groundsoap'  (a  plant),  which  is 
another  instance  of  arbitrary  explanations.  The 
form  of  the  word  as  accepted  by  Sweet  is  on 
record  in  the  Corpus  Glossary  (=WW.  u,  32 
=Hessels'  Corp.  Gl.,  C  186),  and  glosses  there 
the  Latin  cartilago.  The  same  gloss  appears 
in  the  Erfurt  Glossary**  as  cartilago  gg. 
grundsuopa,  and  in  Erf"*.,  not  cited  by  Sweet 
(=Corp.  Gl.  Lat.,  v.  274,  35)  as  cartilago 
grurzapa  dicitur  rustics.  That  a  plant  can- 
not be  meant  is  evident  from  the  lemma  car- 
tilago, which  in  the  Erfurt  Glossary  (=Corp. 
Gl.  Lat.,  v.  349,  45)  had  been  previously  inter- 
preted as  meaning  :  n&sgristla,  '  nosegristle.' 
It  is  natural  that  we  should  expect  to  find  a 
similar  interpretation  in  the  gloss  at  issue.  And 
in  fact,  the  tradition  of  Erf.  and  Erf.''  point 
clearly  in  that  direction.  I  see  in  grundsuopa, 
grurzapa  a  corruption  of  gnurdsi(l)apa—gnur- 
redsi  lapa  ;  gnur(re)dsi  I  consider  to  be  a  past 
participle  noun,  formed  by  means  of  the  suffix 
-si  (-se),  much  in  the  same  manner  as  to-Son- 
den-se,  'swelling'  (which  Hall  exhibits  as 
toftondenre  '  tumore  ')  occurring  in  the  De 
Consuetudine  Afonachorum  (Anglia,  xiii,  1084), 
and  the  word  is  probably  connected  with  the 
knurred*1  we  find  in  Stanihurst's  ^Eneid,  I. 
281  :  '  with  steele  bunch  chayne  knob  clinged 
knurdi*  and  narrolye  lincked  ;  '  lapa  is  the  old 
form  for  later  l&ppa,  as  we  found  tafel  (taful) 
is  for  teefi  ;  cartilago  is  then  well  explained  as 
'gnarliness  (gristliness,')  'lappet  (lobe,)'  cf. 


29  Cf.  Oer,  568a. 

30  E/.,  312,  OET,  p.  5843—  Corpus  Gloss.  Lat.,  v.  355,  24. 

31  This  is  surely  connected  with  knarred-"'  knotty  ;  '  cf. 
also  knar,  Jtnarre,=fnar,  gnarre,  gnarl,  and  German  knorrt 
Xr»a«j=^Swiss  knits;  cf.  also  cartilago  knorsel-bein  quoted 
by  Diefenbach,  Gloss.  Lat.  Germ.,  from  a  vocabulary  of  the 
i6th   century  ;  'chondrosyndesmos  ist  cine  verknUpfung  der 
beinen  die  durch  eine  knorspel  geschiehet  '  (Blancard's  me. 
dicinischts      Worterbttch    p.    131,    Bern    1710);    the    large 
'gnaurs'or  'burs  'met  with  in  elms,  etc.     (Master's   Veg. 
Terat.,  p.  347). 

32  Cf.  also  the  game  of  '  Kibel  and  Nerspel  '  at  Stixwold 
mentioned   by  Alice  B.   Gomme   in   Dictionary  of  British 
Folklore,  Vol.  i,  p.  298  ;  the  '  ner  '  is  according  to  her  a  'ball 
of  maple  '  ;  Hid.,  p.  313,  she  calls  it  '  knor,'  and  p.  421  :nur.' 


Corp.  Gloss.  Lat.,  v:  493,  6j:  cartilago speciem 
ossi  habet  non  firmitatem  ut  sunt  aures  et  ex- 
tremifas  costarum.  As  to  the  gg.  standing 
before  grundsuopa  in  the  Erfurt  Glossary, 
that  very  likely,  means  '  gr&ce, '33  and  points 
to  a  condrus=x<)Y$pos  having  dropped  out, 
and  this  '  condrus  '  may  have  been  the  reason 
for  the  copyist  getting  muddled  on  gnurred-se. 

If  in  the  preceding  instances  Hall  wrongly 
followed  Sweet,  he  just  as  wrongly  did  not 
follow  him  in  disregarding  (WVV.  23,  28)  that 
the  latter  had  clearly  pointed  out  f&x  as  a 
Latin  word ;  whoever  wishes  to  consider  it 
Anglo-Saxon,  must  explain  it  as 'hair,'  and 
not '  dye,'  as  Hall  recklessly  does  (fucus  would 
then  mean  'hair-dye').  He  also  recklessly 
jots  down  from  WVV.  40,  28,  fa/tame  'potentutn.1 
Now,  Wiilker  prints  poLentum  which  is  the 
same  gloss  as  42,  19  pullentum  fahante,  that 
is,  'fine,  bolted  flour, '34  and  this  fahame 
(faha-me  formed  like  blost-me)  is  identical 
with  the  later  fata  'foam.'  Those  who  wonder 
how  the  word  for  foam  may  also  be  used  to 
designate  'fine  flour,'  will  please  remember 
that  'fahame  '  comes  from  fawjan  '  to  winnow, 
to  cleanse '  and  means  then  properly  '  purifi- 
cation,' that  is  to  say  'putting  on  the  one  side 
the  chaff'  and  on  the  other  the  flour. 'as  One 
may  aptly  compare  German  'AusschussJ  that 
may  mean  either  'scum,  trash,'  or  'choice 
selection.' 

WW.  129,  39,  furnishes  Hall  with  an:  earde- 
ftet,  sn.,  '  earthen  vessel,'  while  the  fact  is  that 
an  '  eared '  vessel  is  meant ;  read  therefore 
'earede  faf  as  already  pointed  out  by  Sievers. 
•  WW.  289,  5,  we  have  proceris  gearufang 
which  Hall  has  transferred,  not  understanding 
it.  The  word  occurs  again  in  the  form  geara- 
feng,  WW.  183,  2,  glossing  peeris,  and  geara- 
feng,  glossing  arpax,  WVV.  107,  8,  where  there 
is  added  uel  lupus.  Now,  if  we  compare  Isid. 
Orig.,  20.15:  lupus  quod  et  canicula  ferreus 

33  Cf.    Corp.  Gloss.   Lat.,  v.  352,  45  (—Efiinal-Erf.  Gl.) 
chorea  gg.  salutatio  cum  cantilena  (•— chorea  graece  saltatio 
cum  cantilena.) 

34  Cf.   WW.  40,   n,  polentunt  snieodoma,  that    is,  snie- 
godnta,  properly  'examination.'    Ahd.  Gl.,  i,  380.25, polenta 
tnelo  cleinista,  that  is,  '  the  finest,  cleanest  flour.1 

35  On  a  line  with  that  it  is  when   Corp.  Gloss.  Lat.  v,  382. 
46  (•=.£>.  Erf.,  823  Sweet)/*///*  (pollix)  and   Corp.  Gloss., 
ed.  Hessels,  P  541  :  pallis  (=pollen-is)  appears  interpreted  by 
grytt,  that  is,  'grits.' 


205 


November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.         4 [2 


arpax  qui  siquid  in  puteum  decidit,  rapit  et 
extrahit  unde  etnomen  accepit:  arpax  autem 
dictus  quia  arripit ;  arpe  (read  harpein)  enirn 
grece  est  rapere,  it  becomes  clear,  that  WW. 
107,  8  has  preserved  the  true  reading  and  we 
have  only  to  properly  divide,  to  get  at  the  real 
thingjnamely,  arpax  g(=grcece^  earafanguel 
lupus  and  this  we  have  also  to  restore  WW. 
183,  2,  and  WW.  289,  5  we  have  to  read  arpax 

(  proceris  ) 

"g  earu-fang ;  \  peeris     )  is  part  of  a  different 
gloss  that  WW.  183,  2  and  289,  5  crowded  out 
the  proper  word  arpax  ;  as  to  earu-  (eara-},  on 
account  of  Isidor's  ferreus,  one  might  be  in- 
clined to  read  earn^i  representing  an  ceren,  and 
it  is  possible  that  there  were  originally  two 
glosses  running  like  this  : 
arpe  g  earnfeng  (earn  fang), 
arpax  g  czrenfeng, 

and  that  arpe  dropped  out  and  then  earnfeng 
='fowlcatcher'  got  mixed  up  with  cerenfeng= 
'brazen  (iron)  catcher,'  '  brazen  (iron)  hook.' 

Another  of  these  puzzling  entries  is  :  scyrft 
'scansio',  OET.  Cp.,  1799.  Very  likely  this 
scansio  is  scarsie,  a  noun  formed  from  the  ad- 
jective-participle scarsus=excarsus,  which  is 
the  Middle-Latin  equivalent  for  cxcerptus;  cf. 
the  gloss  of  the  Vaticanus  Christines  regince 
1048  (saec.  X) :  excerpta :  escarsa  (Lowe  Con- 
iect.  ad  gloss.  Lat.spect,  p.  171);  scyrf/is  then 
the  noun  of  sceorfan,  and  of  course  means 
'  scarification  '.  Could  Hall  not  see  that  WW. 
181,  19,  horsa  scip  '  ypoganus  ',  must  be  horsa 
scip  hippegus  nauis  (=iifJtT]y6s=iTt7tayK>y6s 
Thuc.  6,  42),  that  is,  '  a  boat  suitable  for 
the  transportation  of  horses?'  As  to  WW. 
438,  16 :  '  honsteorc  limpus  '  (which  again  was 
bodily  taken  up  by  Hall),  there  we  have  prob- 
ably another  example  of  the  proper  word 
having  been  crowded  out  by  one  originally 
following;  so  that  we  have  to  read  \e\lumbis 
\h\onsteorcTP1  '  not  strong,'  limpidus 

How  ready  Hall  is  to  take  up  any  word,  be 
it  right  or  wrong,  just  to  increase  the  number 
of  entries,  of  that  I  have  already  given  several 
instances.  Here  are  others:  Wiilker  (WW. 

36  Cf.  WW.  171,  ii :  infuns  utl  alogos'g  unspreccnde  did. 

37  eara-  seems  to  be  a  form  authenticated  by  Gothic  ara. 
and  by  here=erc-  in  the  compound  (h~)en-fong  '  ossifragus,' 
WW.  258,  8;  460,18. 

38  This  hon  may  be  either  or  or  on=un. 


T37»  3°)  exhibits  sirculus  uel  uirgultum  sprauta 
and  so  Hall  entered,  but  without  citing  his 
authority,  sprauta,  wm.,  'slip,  branch;'  but 
Kluge  (Anglia,  viii,  p.  450)  tells  us  that  the 
true  reading  is  sprancay)  and  so  appears  then 
by  the  side  of  the  wrong  sprauta,  also  the 
authentic :  spranca,  wm., '  shoot,  slip,  branch.' 
It  is  exactly  so  with  the  entries : 

(1)  metesacca,   wm.,    '  a  kind  of  measure, 
spoonful?    WW.  126,  35.' 

(2)  metesticca,  wm.,   'spoonful,  WW.  126, 
35;  A.  viii,  450.' 

(ij  is  a  reproduction  of  Wiilker's  wrong 
reading,  and  (2)  the  authentic  form  as  pointed 
out  by  Kluge,  Anglia,  viii,  451.  The  meaning 
assigned  to  metesticca  by  Hall,  is  a  mere 
guess.  As  the  lemma,  legula,  is  a  corruption 
of  regula,  metesticca  is,  of  course,  '  measure- 
stick  ' ;  cf.  German  Maass-stab.  To  judge 
from  the  preceding,  one  might  expect  that 
he  would  give  Kluge's  kcecewol  (Anglia, 
viii,  449)  by  the  side  of  hcecewol  '  exactor 
AeGl.'  (=WW.  in,  9) ;  however,  I  dare  say, 
he  refrained  from  doing  so,  as  Kluge  says  he 
cannot  explain  this  difficult  word,  but  a  look 
into  Murray's  New  English  Dictionary  might 
have  told  him  that  we  have  to  read  k(zcepol= 
'catch-poll,'  'tax-gatherer.'  But  for  his  me- 
chanical way  of  proceeding  he  would  also 
also  have  seen  that  what  he  enters  from  WW. 
276,  25,  supe  (ic)  '  sarcio  '  ought  to  be  ic  silver 
='  I  sew.'  This  confusion,  existing  between 
the  forms  for  p  and  w  accounts  also  for  WW. 
201,  35,  cauernamen  wrong,  for  which  we  find 
WW.  182,  14  the  correct  cauernam  pranga  = 
German  Pr anger.  Hall,  however,  has  only 
the  wrong  wrong  which  he  failed  to  under- 
stand. 

How  imperfectly  sure  Hall  is  of  the  Jtnowl- 
edge  he  wishes  to  impart,  becomes  apparent 
from  his  entry  'sealscyn  amaraciuni1  WW.  351, 
30.  Under  sealh,  sm.,  he  tells  his  students 
that  the  genitive  \s  scales  ;  now,  I  should  say, 
it  would  not  have  been  difficult  to  recognize 
this  scales  in  the  compound  seals-cyn,  especi- 
ally when  he  remembered  the  gloss  WW. 
267,  35 :  amera  sealh ;  whence  it  is  evident 

39  Cf.  also  ciecerspranca  'ilex  oaksapling*'  which    Hall 
cites  from  ^Elfric's    Glossary,  which,   however,  I  have  been 
unable  to  trace. 

40  Cf.  Ahd.  Gf.,  ii  242.  i :  rescircio  uuieiarsiuui. 


206 


413          November,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          414 


that  we  have  to  read  ameracium  seals-cyn 
'  kind  of  willow,'  but  the  word  cyn  lias  tripped 
him  up  more  than  once  ;  witness  the  following 
entries : 

accyn,  sn.,  '  ilex  '  VVVV.  430,  6. 

beancynn,  sn., '  chickpea,  vetch  bean  '  WW. 
205,  3. 

crogcyn,  sn.,  '  kind  of  vessel,  winejar.'  WVV. 
210,  39. 

deorcynn,  sn.,  'race  of  animals.'    JE. 

hrefttcynn,  sn.,  'raven-species.'     ./E. 

pysecynn,  sn.,  'sort  of  pea.' 

porncynn,  sn.,  'thistle,  thorn.' 

In  every  one  of  these  compounds  -cyn  con- 
veys exactly  the  same  meaning;  namely,  'a 
kind  of  and  so  accyn  is,  of  course,  '  a  kind  of 
oak, '41  as  the  'ilex'  really  is;  and  so  beancynn 
is  a  '  kind  of  bean',  etc.  That  the  halsgang, 
WVV.  190,32  (=strtt»ta),\s  a  blunder  for  halsgiind 
we  know  from  Sievers,  but  nevertheless  Hal 
exhibits:  halsgang,  sm.,  'tumour on  the  neck.' 

The  Anglo-Saxon  equivalent  for  recompense 
is  according  to  Hall  wiSerriht,  but  as  the 
gloss  on  which  this  entry  rests  is  VVVV.  118,  12 
hostimentum  widerriht  uel  edlean,  and  from 
Corpus  Gloss.  Lat.t  v.  209,  2  we  learn  that 
hostimentum  is  the  name  for  the  stone  that 
serves  as  counterbalance  for  a  weight  (hosti- 
mentum dicitur  lapis  quo  pondus  exequatur), 
we  shall  have  to  read  wideruiht4*-—wifie- 
ruuiht,*!  synonymous  with  ebnwege  (tequi- 
pensuni)  WW.  4,  21  ;  cf.  Corp.  Gloss.  Lat., 
v.  209,  r :  hostimeiito  eualitat,  that  is,  ecual- 
itate=cequalitate,  ibid.,v.  209,  5:  hostit  equat 
adplanat. 

'Within  the  bounds,'  according  to  Hall's, 
idea,  the  Anglo-Saxon  expresses  by  innihte. 

41  Cf.  Epinal  Gloss.,  ed.  Sweet,  p.  i :  A  31  adilicein  genus 
rubus—r  aborts. 

42  Hence  read  WW.   476,  5:  hostimen  t*efnung=uel  aef- 
nung  for  leasung. ' 

43  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  this  same  preposition  itiifjer 
is  hidden  in  what  we  read  WW.  18,  35:  wuduiner,  'echo'=- 
•wudumaer   'echo,'    WW.    391,   20,     The   Erfurt    Glossary 
(=Corp.  Gloss.  Lat.,  v.  357,  19)  has  for  that  echt  uuydunier. 
Hall,  following  Sweet,  makes  that  4a  wood-nymph,'  but  the 
probabilities  are  that  following  the  traces  of  the  Erf.  Gloss., 
we  have  to  read  echo  uuy firmer,  uuifiirmer,  uuijirmaer, 
that    is,    'resounding    word,'    'rebounding   sound,'    'echo;' 
that  is  to  say,  -wiftirmtr  stands  for  an  original   Latin   inter- 
pretation like  resultatif  vocis,  or  something  similar.     (Cf. 
German    Widtr-hall  and    Corpus    G/oss.  Lat.,  iii,  476,  54: 
resultatio  }'fj(rjjj  Ahd.  Gl.,  ii.  153,  10  echo  vox  resonabilis). 


If  we  examine  the  gloss  on  the  strength  of  which 
he  makes  such  a  statement,  we  find  that  what 
he  has  taken  for  an  adverb,  is  in  reality  a  noun, 
for  there  cannot  be  any  doubt,  that  WW.  450, 
21  :  municipales  innihte  beborene  is  a  corrupt 
reading,  perhaps  for  incnihte,  [in  tune]  be- 
(=ge-f)  borene ;  cf.  WW.  310,  2:  clietts  uel 
c/ientulus  incniht;  310,  4:  uernaculus  inbyrd- 
lingc\  in,  16:  inquilinus  tiingcbur. 

On  the  authority  of  a  mere  guess  of  Bos- 
worth,  by  Wiilker  there  has  been  assigned  the 
meaning  of  '  letter  carrier '  to  the  word  bad- 
ling,  occurring  WVV.  200,  19  as  interpretation 
of  a  Latin  cariar.  This  cariarw  is  evidently 
identical  with  the  carier  glossed  leno  we  meet 
with  Corp.  Gloss.  Lat.,  v.  355,  Sand  canter  leno 
ibid.,  v.  273,  40,  with  which  one  may  aptly 
compare  Placidi  Gloss.,  ed.  Deuerling,  p.  27, 
17:  carisa  uetus  lena  percallida,  nude  et  in 
miino  fallaces  ancillte  cata  carisia  appellantur. 
From  these  glosses  it  follows  that  bad/ing 
must  be  the  equivalent  for  leno,  and  this  is 
confirmed  by  such  glosses  as  WW.  423,  32 : 
impuletit  btedt ,-45  a  bcedling  is  therefore  an 
'inciter  to  bsed  deeds  (profligacy),'  a  '  pro- 
curer. '46  Cp.  bydel. 

Also  a  reproduction  of  a  careless  remark  of 
Wiilker  it  is,  when  about  undernmete,  after  hav- 
ing learned  that  it  means(i)  'supper,'  (2)  'morn- 
ing or  midday  meal,"  we  are  told  that  (3)  it 
may  signify  '  breakfast,'  just  as  if  '  morning 
meal '  and  '  breakfast '  were  not  the  same 
thing,  and  just  as  if  it  were  not  quite  plain 
that  in  VVW.479,  3:  sub  modio  undernmete  the 
reference  can  not  be  to  '  breakfast.'  If  Hall 
had  not  been  so  eager  to  avail  himself  of  a 
new  entry,  he  would  have  noticed  that  Wiilker 
in  his  note  wished  to  say  that  undernmete 

44  Cf.  also  WW.  479.  19  :  angarizauerit  beadaet ;  347,  10 : 
actus  gebatded;  374,  33:  compelltre  haft  heo  gebaedde •  428. 
31;  iinpulsore  baedendrt. 

45  This  form  probably  owes  its  origin  to  confusion  of  s  and 
r;  the  s,  having  been  omitted  and  later  on  added  above  the 
line, may  have  been  mistakenly  placed  at  the  end  by  a  later 
copyist.      The  stages  of  corruption  would  then  be:   carias, 
cariar,  carier,  canier.     Corf.  Gl.  Lat.,  v.  493,  47  we  have 
this  same  carisa  corrupted  to  canier  explained  by  seductor, 
leno,  suasor,  and  still  more  corrupted, /i/V/.,  v.  493,  48:  caniftr 
seductor;  but  a  remembrance  of  the  right  meaning  is   pre- 
served in  carissafaba=vafra,  ibid.,  v.  493,  55. 

46  Cf.  also  WW.  479,  17:  angarizauerit  beadaetp;  347,  10: 
actus  gebaeded ;  374,  33:  conipellert  haet  hto  febtudde  ;  428, 
31 :  iinpuliorc  biicdendre. 


415          November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          416 


meaning  'breakfast,'  can  not  be  the  right  in- 
terpretation of  sub  modio,  which  is  a  quotation 
from  Matt.  5,  15,  and  in  fact  Wiilker  (as  well 
as  Hall)  might  have  seen  that  we  only  need  to 
correct  the  slight  mistake,  utldern  for  under, 
to  set  everything  right ;  then  we  have  sub 
modio  under  mete  corresponding  to  what  we 
read  in  the  Undisf.  Gosp.,  Matt.  5,  15  :  sub 
modio  under  mitte  (my tie),  '  under  the  bushel.' 
To  this  same  carelessness  we  owe  the  entry  : 
wermet,  sn.,  '  man's  measure,  stature.'  Just 
as  if  the  word  was  a  very  common  one,  Hall 
cites  no  authority  for  it.  And  yet  it  is  only  a 
guess,  based  on  the  corrupt  reading  of  WW. 
479,  23:  ad  stauram  to  wermete,  which  ought 
to  be  ad  staturam  to  westeme—wcsstme  as  it 
refers  to  Matth.  6,  27.  That  w<zstm  means 
also  '  figure,  form,  stature '  Hall  notes  under 
wcestm  6.,  and  it  is  confirmed  by  WW.  320,  4  : 
griffus,  fifterfote  fugel  leone  gelic  on  wcsstme 
and  earne  gelic  on  heafde  and  on  fiSerum. 

Just  as  problematic  as  this  wermet  seems  the 
entry  :  gripu,  sf.,  '  kettle,  caldron,'  which  Hall 
took  from  Leo's  dictionary  without  giving  due 
credit  for  it.  This  is  the  more  reprehensible, 
as  the  alleged  word  is  based  on  a  single  pas- 
sage in  Salom.  and  Saturn.  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  the  word  is  identical  with  the  greoua 
which  is  on  record  WW.  276,  14;  460,  3635 
interpretation  for  Latin  olla.  Now  as  the 
Danish  name  for  such  a  thing  as  olla  '  earthen 
cooking-pot '  is  gryde,  it  seems  probable  that 
gripu  as  well  greoua  are  but  corruptions  from 
gripu  greopa.  If  gripu  is  all  right,  it  may 
stand  for^ry/w  and  be  a  congener  of  Dialect 
German  Groppe  '  iron  pot.'  Nor  is  there  good 
authority  for  such  an  entry  as  :  leac-  leak-  trie 
-trog,  sm.  '  lettuce"  (Lat.  lactuca).  The  wrong 
explanation  Hall  owes  to  Sweet,  for  which  he 
again  gives  no  credit,  and  Sweet  made  up  this 
explanation  with  utter  disregard  of  the  Latin 
word  which  leak-trie  was  to  explain.  The 
glosses  where  the  word  is  on  record  are  the 
following:  In  the  Epinal and  Erfurt  Gloss.— 
Corp.  Gloss.  Lat.,\.  353,  27:  corimbus  leac- 
trocas ;  in  the  Corptts  Gloss.,  ed.  Hessels,  C 
656:  corimbos  leactrogas—\V\N .  14,  35  ;  more- 
over we  have  WW.  213,  19 :  corimbus  cacumen 
nauis  leahtroh  :  WW.  365,  13 :  corimbos  leac- 
trogas.  By  the  side  of  these  glosses  we  have 
WW.  297,  18 :  lactuca  leahtric  ;  WW.  432,  7  : 


lactuca  pudistel,  leahtric.  It  seems  to  me 
quite  plain  that  the  leahtric  of  the  last  two 
glosses  is  simply  the  Anglicized  form  of  the 
Latin  lactuca,  and  therefore  ought  to  read 
leahtuc,  and  so  cannot  enter  the  question  at 
issue  with  the  above  glosses.  Now,  of  course, 
one  might  say  that  the  leactrocax  (leac-  leah- 
trogas)  to  be  found  there  is  also  a  blunder  for 
leahtocas,  'lettuce,'  and  if  the  word  does 
not  seem  to  conform  to  the  Latin  corimbus, 
'cacumen'',  that  is  to  be  explained  in  the  same 
way  that  we  have  tried  to  explain  several  other 
glosses  of  a  similar  description,  namely  by 
supposing  that  leactrocas=l  leahtocas,  leah- 
tucas '  got  into  the  wrong  place  and  crowded 
out  the  true  word  explanatory  of  corimbus. 
But  then,  a  lemma  for  leahtocas,  'lettuce,' 
would  .have  to  be  found,  beginning  with  the 
letter  c  and  that,  I  think,  will  be  hard  to  do. 
I  imagine,  we  shall  get  a  more  satisfactory  ex- 
planation of  the  word  when  we  compare  such 
glosses  as  WW.  213,  16,  17  : 
corimbi  i.  uiti  racemi  uel  botrionesw  uel  circuli 
wingeard  hringas  uel  bergan  uel  croppas 
bacce  (read :  uel  bacce  bergan  uel  botriones 
cnoppas);tfa.n&  WW.  149,  6:  corimbi  wingearda 
hringa  ;  WW.  149,  3:  capreoli  uel  cincinni  uel 
uncinuli.  wingearda  hocas  pe  hi  mid  bindaJ 
pest  him  nehst  bid ;  WW.  149,  19:  capreoli 
wingearda  gewind;  WW.  118,  3:  capreoli  win- 
geard bogas  (read  -hogas) ;  WW.  201,  30; 
capreoli  dicti  quod  capiant  arbores  wingeard- 
hocgasWW.  183,  3:  uncini  hocas  ;  WW.  289, 
ii :  uncinos  hocas. 

It  will  then  seem  not  improbable  that  leac- 
trogas  is  a  corruption   of  leac-hocgas  ;  that  is 

47  Cp.  C.  G.  L.  iv  359,  33  botriones  caprioli,  ibid.  314,  35 
botriones  lair  ices  (=traduces},  ibid.  316,  29  caprieli  botrionis 
latices  (=traduces)  sunt ;  iii,  621,  18  corimbi  idfst  butrione 
ederae  (=botrognes  hederae). 

48  It  seems  to  me  to  be  admitting  of  no  doubt  that  here  as 
well  as  WW.  3,  21  :  acitellum  hramsan  crop=2ji,  5;  WW. 
135,  24:  tursus,  cirnia  crop;  149,   13:  ci'ma  crop;  202,   12, 
caulon  crop ;  205,  12:  cipus  (=cej>a  s.)  croplcc ;  270,  25:  ser- 
puluin  crop-leac,  the  r  of  crop  ought  to  be  n  (cf.  WW.  434: 
30 :  lanugo   wull  cnoppa);  for  cnop-leac  answers  exactly  to 
German  Knopf-lauch  (Knob-la.uch},wci&hra,insan  cnop  would 
be  a   Bavarian   Ramsen-knopf,   '  head   of  garlic ;  '    German 
Knospe  contains   the  same   word-element,   as   it   stands   for 
Knop-se  ='  shoot,  bud,  eye.'     So  Anglo-Saxon  cnop  is  a  quite 
adequate   rendering   of   such    terms   as   the  above   tursus= 
Svptio?,  turto  (for  that  is  the  true  reading  for  cimia  (WW. 
'35,  24)  °r  "ma  (WW.  149,  13),  caution  (=Havl(.iov),  for 
thus  we  must  read  in  202,  12. 


208 


417          November,  1896.     MODERN  LANG UAG E  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          418 


to  say,  the  glossator  who  explained  corimbos 
by  leac-hocgas  took  the  word  in  a  wider  sense, 
not  limiting  it  to  the  runners  and  tendrils  of 
the  wine-plant,  but  accepting  it  as  expressive 
of  the  'hooks  of  any  climbing  or  twining  plant, 
as  the  bean,  pea,  wood-bine',etc.49 

As  to  what  we  read  WVV.  213,  19:  corimbus 
cacumen  nauis  leahtroh,  that  is  probably  a  cor- 
ruption of  cacumen  nauis  t  cahtho=t  (uel) 
heahthu;  it  may  be  that  in  the  MS.  from  which 
the  scribe  copied  there  was  preceding  a 
corimbi  t  capreoli  t  uncinuli  t  leac-hocgas 
which  contributed  to  the  production  of  the 
blunder  Ifahtroh  for  /  heahthu.  As  we  read 
in  \\\ePlacidus  Glossary  (ed.  Deuerling),  p.  25, 
13  also  of  a  corimbosso  aceruos  quos  rustici  ex 
congerie  lapidum  faciunt,  some  one  might  be 
inclined  to  think  that  leahtroh  stands  for  lea- 
hreac  'stone-rick,'  and  is  interpretative  of  a 
crowded  out  lemma  corimbus  aceruus  lapidum, 
and  was  misplaced  to  corimbus  cacumen  nauis, 
which  originally  lacked  an  Anglo-Saxon  inter- 
pretation. In  lea  we  would  then  have  the 
Anglo-Saxon  representative  of  Old-Saxon  leia 
=MHG.  /«V=Greek  Aaa?.  That  would  seem 
acceptable  enough,  as  there  is  a  parallel  in 
Platt-Deutsch  Bult  meaning  as  well  'heap,  hil- 
lock,' as  a  cluster  of  shoots  growing  from  one 
stem  (for  example;  Nagelkn-bult^ 'a  cluster  of 
pinks  growing  from  a  main  stem.')  Perhaps 
WW.  370,  12  cartilago  leaces  heafod,  that  is, 
1  head  of  garlic',  when  compared  with  VVW. 
213,  19  corimbus  cacumen  nauis  leahtroh  and 
ibid.  213,  20  coriza  i.  sternutatio  cartilagines 
nebgebraec  uelfnora  will  furnish  us  the  solu- 
tion of  the  riddle:  cartilago  VVW.  -370,  12 
stands  evidently  for  scordilago,  a  derivative  of 
6Kopo8ov  or  GnopSov  'garlic '  (cf.  C.  G.  L.  iii, 
629,  42  scurdone  idest  allius  (=scordon  id  est 
allium}),  formed  on  the  pattern  of  such  words 
as  salsilago,  lappago,  plantago  (see  F.  T. 
Cooper,  "Wordf."  in  the  Rom.  Sermo.  Pleb. 
p.  81);  the  cartilagines  appearing,  WVV.  213, 
20,  undoubtedly  does  not  belong  there,  as  it 
only  disturbs  the  even  tenor  of  the  gloss  coriza 

49  Cf.    Corpus   Gl.   Lat.,  ii.   223,  42:    axpF.UGdV   ciina 
corymbus  iii.   263,  48:     ctKfJEJUCai'    HCCptfilOV     iurculus^ 
corymbus. 

50  Unfortunately  that  is  only  Deuerling's,  however,  probable 
emendation   of  the   corrupt   reading   of  the  MSS.    corintos- 
cornteos  ;  but  there  is  a  Lucilius  (inn.  sEtn.,  5)  passage  where 
corimbus  occurs  in  about  the  same  sense. 


)  i.  sternutatio  nebgebraec  uelfnora; 
it  may  well  be  referred  to  the  preceding  gloss, 
which,  I  suspect,  originally  ran  thus:  corymbus 
cacumen  nauis  uel  taput  scordilaginis  leac- 
cnop.  As  sc,  s,  c,  /,  and  d,  /as  well  as^,  b,  h 
and  n,  r  are  constantly  mixed  up  in  these 
glosses,  leahtroh  may  easily  be  read  leahcnob, 
which  developped  from  original  leaccnop  'leek- 
knob,' '  garlic-knob,'  and  would  then  be  the 
counterpart  to  leaces  heafod  WW.  370,  12  cf. 
205,12;  270,25.  A  contamination  of  cartilago 
'  cartilage  '  witli  scordilago  (corrupted  to  car- 
tilago} '  garlic  '  lies  probably  also  at  the  root 
of  the  above  mentioned  gloss  cartilago  grur- 
zapa  ( grunzopa,  gnmdsopa  grundsuopd).  For, 
as  it  is  also  on  record  in  the  Vossianus,  fol.  82 
cited  by  Loewe,  Prodromus  Gloss.  Lat.  p. 
418,  a  codex  that  does  not  contain  any  Anglo- 
Saxon  interpretations,  the  view  which  I  ad- 
vanced above,  saying  that  grundsopa  stands 
for  a  mixture  of  Greek  chondros  with  Anglo- 
Saxon  gnurredse,  is  no  longer  tenable  (cp.  my 
article  in  the  Am.  J.  of  Phil.  vol.  xvii,  No.  i,  p. 
85).  As  I  have  shown  there,  the  mysterious 
grundsopa  is  now  designated  as  Greek,  now 
as  rustic  Latin.  I,  therefore,  think  that  the 
original  reading  of  the  gloss  was  about  this 
way  :  cartilago  chondrus  graece,  caepa  dicitur 
rustice,  which  is,  as  pointed  out,  contamina- 
tion of  'cartilago  joKiS/jo?  and  \s\cordilago 
caepa.  Since  s,  c,  e,  o,  and  e,  i,  u  are  frequently 
mixed  up,  it  will  become  plain,  how  caepa  can 
appear  as  suopa  in  the  Erfurt  Glossary. 
Hence  it  would  seem  that  grundsopa  has  no 
standing  at  all  in  Anglo-Saxon.  However 
that  may  be,  so  much  is  certain,  there  is  no 
supporting  evidence  for  a  leactroc,  'lettuce.' 

There  is  another  error  in:  bepung,  sf.  'decep- 
tion,1 although  from  the  previous  entry  bepa- 
cung  '  lenocinium,'  which  means  'allurement, 
deception,'  the  truth  should  have  occurred  to 
him.  SwiSswlge,  which  he  gets  from  Haupt's 
Gl.,  440:  heroico  hexametro  swift  sweguni 
metrum,  he  renders  '  sweet  sounding,  melod- 
ious.' I  should  say  swtfswige  can  but  mean 
'  deeply  silent ; '  while  the  adjective  repre- 
sented by  that  gloss  is  swift  swege,  that  is, 
'strongly  sounding,  sonorous.'  Hall  does  not 
understand  the  gloss  taken  from  the  same 
source  '  conspiratio '  gecwis,  and  so  simply 
transcribes  it,  and  yet  he  knows  that  facen- 


209 


419          November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.  420 


gecwis  means  'conspiracy.'  The  latter  is 
taken  from  Wright-Wiilker  (although  Hall 
does  not  say  so),  373,  n :  conspiratio  facen- 
gecwis%oft$e  andwyrding\  WW.  512,  9:  con- 
spiratio facengecwis ;  209,  40:  conspicatio 
(=conspiratio)  i.  conspiragofacengecwys;  with 
these  compare  WW.  400,  2 :  factio  facn  (cf. 
400,  19  :  factio  seani) ;  400,  I :  factiosam  pone 
facenfullan ;  gecwis,  I  dare  say,  is  a  noun, 
formed  from  the  root  cwefi-  cwid-,  in  the  same 
manner  as  &S5*  from  eet-ti,  sees  (WW.  51,  31) 
from  scet-ti,  h<zs  from  hat-ti,s*  and  means  'oral 
compact,'  which  is,  true  enough,  an  indifferent 
rendering  of  'conspiratio,'  but  will  do,  if  the 
underhandedness  of  the  plot  is  not  to  be  em- 
phasized ;  if  it  is  to  be,  then  of  course,  facen- 
gecwis is  the  more  appropriate  word. 

With  the  following  example,  quite  charac- 
teristic of  Hall's  method,  this  article  may  be 
closed. 

After  the  verb  hentan  we  find  this  remark- 
able entry  : 

1  hente  in  phrase  befeore  hente,  ON  PAIN  OF 
DEATH(!).'  The  '  phrase'  occurs  in  the  fol- 
lowing passage  of  ^Elfric's  Lives  ef  Saints 
(EETS),  vol.  ii,  p.  490  (xxxiii,  47):  Acfczrlice 
ymbe  dreo  nihte  sende  se  casere  his  bydelas 
and  bead  pest  man  swift e  georne  scolde  cepan 
cristenra  manna  and  gehwa  peer  he  mihte 
heora  befeore  hente.  The  English  translation 
opposite  the  text  reads  thus  :  '  But,  suddenly, 
in  about  three  days,  the  emperor  sent  his  her- 
alds and  commanded  that  men  should  watch 
the  Christian  men  very  zealously  and  that  each 
man  should  seize  them,  wherever  he  could,  on 
pain  of  death*  Evidently  Hall  did  not  see  that 
the  translator's  'should  seize  them'  stands  for 

heora hente  and  on  pain  of  death   for  be 

feore,=German  beim  Leben,  but  as  on  'pain 
of  death  '  happens  to  occupy  the  same  place 
in  the  translation  that  befeore  hente  occupies 
in  the  text,  he  rashly  concludes  that  befeore 
hente  is  a  phrase  meaning  on  pain  of  death  \ 
OTTO  B.  SCHLUTTER. 
Hartford  Public  High  School. 

ANINEDITED  D  O  CUMEN  T  CON- 
CERNING  CHAUCER'S  FIRST 

ITALIAN  JO  URNE  Y. 
WHILE  talking  last  summer  with  Dr.  Furnivall 

51  Liber  Scintillaruin,  107,  8 . 

52  Cf.  Kluge,  Nomina.lt  Statiunbildungslehrt ,  §128. 


about  Chaucer's  first  Italian  journey,  I  got  the 
welcome  information  that  there  were  unpub- 
lished accounts  concerning  this  journey  in  the 
Record  Office,  and  the  sound  advice  to  search 
for  them  there.  My  hopes  of  a  "  find  "  were 
much  reduced  at  learning  that  Prof.  Skeat  not 
only  knew  of  the  existence  of  the  entry  in 
question  (vid.  Oxford  Chaucer,  i,  xxiv,  note 
67),  but  also  knew  in  general  its  contents,  so 
that  when  a  curiosity  to  see  the  document, 
that  would  not  down,  led  me  to  th£  Record 
Office  I  could  but  think  that, 

"  .  .  I  come  after,  glening  here  and  there  '* 

with  rather  less  than  a  gleaner's  chance.  To 
my  surprise  and  gratification  the  'glening' 
turned  out  to  be  better  than  the  harvest, 
for  the  roll  contained  the  exact  dates  of 
Chaucer's  first  Italian  journey,  and  his  total 
absence  reckoned  out  in  days:  one  hundred 
and  seventy-four,  or  six  instead  of  the  eleven 
months  we  have  usually  given  him.  I  have  al- 
ready pointed  out  in  The  Nation  of  Oct.  8th, the 
change  in  the  Chronology  of  Chaucer's  "Italian 
Period  "  that  these  newly  established  dates 
appear  to  necessitate — in  brief  that  the  Ital- 
ian period  should  be  dated  from  the  second 
Italian  journey  of  1378  rather  than  from  the 
first — so  that  I  am  free  now  to  print  the  docu- 
ment with  only  such  comment  as  may  serve  to 
make  its  meaning  clear. 

The  "  Compotus  "  is  found  in  the  Roll  of  For- 
eign Accounts  42-51  Edw.  iii  fol.  41.  I  print  it 
from  a  careful  copy  made  for  me  by  Mrs.  M.  B. 
Hutchinson  at  the  Record  Office,  corrected  in 
one  or  two  instances  from  my  own  rough  copy. 
Without  the  generous  aid  of  Dr.  Gross  of 
Harvard,  I  should  hardly  have  ventured  to 
publish  the  document  with  its  to  me  unfamiliar 
Latinhy.  He  cleared  up  the  meaning  for  me 
at  many  points.  Blunders  in  the  text,  I  trust 
not  too  many,  are  all  my  own,  for  he  had  no 
opportunity  of  revising  the  text  as  a  whole. 
Fortunately  the  readings  in  the  passages  which 
concern  Chaucer  chronology  are  unambiguous. 
The  document  is  here  reprinted  textuaHy  with 
no  additions  except  punctuation.  Letters  re- 
presented by  marks  of  contraction  are  printed 
in  italic. 

Compotus  GalfrzWi  Chaucer  scutiferi  de  re- 
cipiendis  vadiis  &  expensz'.y  per  ipsmn  in 


421          November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          422 


s^ruicio  Regis  nup^r  faclis,  proficiseendo1  in 
negocyj  Regis  versus  paries  laniuie  &  Flo- 
rencie  anno  xlvij0,  p<rr  breuon  Regis  cle  pr/unto 
sigillo  datum  xj°  die  Nouembr/j  eoclem  anno, 
Thesawrar/o  Baronibwj  &  Camerario  liuius 
scaccarij  direct//;//,  \rreptnm  in  memoranda 
de  lermino  sancti  michefis  anno  xlviij0;  per 
quod  bre«^///  Rex  niandauit  eisdem  Thesawra- 
rio  &  Earonious,  quod  computent  cum  prf- 
d/'c/o  Galfr/ab,  per  s&crametitttm  suu;«,  de 
quodam  viagio  per  ipsum  nup^r  facA>  in 
s<rruicio  Regis  versus  partes  lannue  &  Flo- 
rencie  pro  quibw^dam  secretis  negocijs  Regis  ; 
allocando  prefato  Ga\(rido  pro  toto  d/'c/o 
viagio,  a  die  quo  her  suuw  arripuit  de  London 
usque  ad  suuw  redire  ibidem,  talia  vadia  per 
diem  qualia  aliis  scutiferis  eiusdem  status 
similit^r  eundo  in  nuncio  Regis  ante  hec  tem- 
pera allocate  fuerunt  ;  vna  cuw  custubw^  ra- 
f/onabilib«.y  pro  suis  passagio  &  repassagio 
maris  ac  de  iiuwcijs  que  ipse  fieri  fecit,  c^rtifi. 
cando  Regem  de  negociis  supmd/c/is.  Et  de 
eo  quod  per  compotum.  ilium  eidem  Galfm/o 
rarzonabiliUr  deberi  inuenerunt  prefaii  The. 
saurarius  &  Camerarius  ip^wm  Ga\(ridum 
soluc/owem  de  Thesauro  Regis  ha^ere  faciutit. 

Recepta.  Idem  reddit  compotutn  de  Ixvj.  li. 
xiijs.  iiijd.  receptis  de  Thesawrar/'o 
&  Camerario  ad  Receptam3  scac- 
carij  przmo  die  Decembrw  tfrmino 
michetis  anno  xlvij0  p<rr  manus  pro- 
pr/as,  sup^r  expense  ip^ius  Galfr/'di 
missi  in  secretis  negocijs  Reg/j  ver- 
sus partes  transmarinas,  sicut  con- 
linetur  in  pelle  memorandoruiirt  ad 
eandem  Receptam  de  eisdem  termiwo 
&  anno  ac  eciam  in  quadam  cedula 
de  particwlis,  quam  lib^rauit  in 


1  Proficiscendo  :  My  copyist,  probably   failing  to   note  a 
mark  of  contraction,  -reads  here,  as  below  in  the  section  of 
Experts*,  proficiendo.     I   follow  in  both   instances  my  own 
copy,  {or  proficiendo  .  .  .  versus  partes.  etc.,  appears  to  me 
meaningless.     Possibly   the   better   reading   is  proflsciendo 
frequent  in  faedera  and  occuring  in   Nicolas,  Note  F,  in  an 
«n  try  concerning  this  journey. 

2  The   "Recepta"   is   the   technical   term   for   the  minor 
branch  of  the  treasury,  the  Treasury  of  Receipt. 

3  Dr.  Gross  suggests,  in  pelle  memoratoris,  "  in  th«  book 
of  the  record,  or  minute,  clerk."     I  have  chosen  the  alterna- 
tive reading,   the  form   of  the  contraction  admits  of  either, 
chiefly  because  official   titles  are  consistently  capitalized  in 
the  document,  while  there  is  no  capital  here.     I  had  in  mind 
i»lso  "/'»  tntmorandit"  vid.  supra. 


sauro  ;  Et  de  xxxiij  li.,  in  pmio  ccxx 
flor.  preiio  cniusltfrt  flor.  iijs.,  re- 
ceptis  de  Jakes  de  Prouan*  milite, 
xxiij0  die  marcij  anno  xlvij0,  sup^r 
expense  predictis  sicut  conlinetur 
Ibidem, 

XX 

Suntma  Recepta  iiij.xix.li  [—99]  xiijs.  iiijd 
Expense.  Idem  compute/,  in  vadiis  suis  pro- 
ficijrendo  in  d/'c^is  negocijs  Regis  a 
predicto  pr/'mo  die  Decembr/'j  anno 
xlvj°  finieutt,  quo  die  it^r  suum 
arripuit  de  London,  versus  paries 
predict-As,  vsque  xxiij">  diew  Maij 
proximutn  sequen/ew  quo  die  rediit 
London  p^r  clxxiiij  dies,  scilicet, 
eundo,  morando  &  redeundo  vtroq//^ 
die  computato.cap^rrs  per  diem  xiijs. 
iiijd — cxvj  )i  pfr  breuem  predictum 
Regis,  sicitt  conlinetur  in  d/'c/a 
cedula  de  particwlis  ;  Et  in  passagio 
&  repassagio  suo,  hominum  &  equo- 
ntm  suorw;;/,  x.\\s.  p^ridem  breuein 
Regis,  sicut  contitietur  ibidem.  Et 
soIut/'-y  tribwj  nuncijs  Regem  de 
d/c/is  negocijs  suis  per  diurrsas 
vices  c<rtificantib«j — vij  li.  x«.  p<?r 
idem  breuem  Regis  sicut  conttnefur 
ibidem. 

Sutnma  expensa—  cxxv  li. 
Et  hec  sup^rplus  xxv  li.  vj  s.  viijd— De  quibus 
ha^iturus  est6  soluc/os/em  vel  satisfact/b//em, 
aliuwde  pr<?textu  br^wis  Regis  de  pmiato  sigillo 
annota//'  supra,  in  titulo  huius  compoti.  Quod 
quidem  breuetn  xv°  die  Novembr/j  anno  xlvij0 
Regis  Edwardi  tercij  \\berauit  Thesa/trario  & 
Camerario  ad  Receptam  sraccarij. 

To  follow  all  the  transactions  involved  in 
this  payment  of  some  twenty-five  pounds 
sterling  would  be  interesting  to  the  student  of 
the  English  Treasury.  The  student  of  Chaucer 
will  be  content  to  get  the  gist  of  the  document. 

4  Chaucer's  colleague  on  the  Genoes*  mission.     With  them 
was   associated  also  Johannes  de  Mari,  a  Genoese  citizen. 
See  their  commission  in  Rymer's  Feeder*,  vol.  iii,  p.  964. 

5  Vapire  construed  with  comput*t—"  reckons  to  get,"  or 
perhaps,  "  puts  in  a  bill  for  "  seems  awkward,  but  I  can  make 
no  other  construction  out   of  it.     The  general   meaning   is 
plain  enough. 

6  My  copyist  reads  Jtatituris,  which  leaves  a  sentence,  bad 
enough   at   best,  apparently   without   construction.     I   read 
habitants  from  my  own  copy. 


211 


423         November,  1896.    MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          424 


The  whole  document  is  the  treasurer's  voucher 
for  a  payment  made  to  Chaucer  in  full,  for  the 
balance  due  him  on  account  of  the  Italian 
journey. 

The  first  paragraph  states  that  Chaucer, 
having  gone  to  Genoa  and  Florence  in  the 
year  1373  on  the  king's  business,  with  the  pay 
of  an  esquire  of  his  rank  on  similar  service, 
renders  an  account,  upon  oath,  for  his  pay  and 
expenses  ;  and  that  the  Treasurer  and  Cham- 
berlain pay  him  by  warrant  of  a  letter  of  the 
king's  privy  seal,  dated  Nov.  nth.,  1373. 

The  paragraph  following  accounts  for  the 
money  Chaucer  has  received  (Receptd)  :  on  the 
first  day  of  December,  1372,  £66,  135.  4d.  on 
the  23rd  day  of  March,  1373,  from  his  colleague 
Jakes  de  Prouan  'milite,'  ^"33;  in  all  ^"99,  135. 
4d. 

His  claim  against  the  treasury  is  for  133. 
4d.  a  day,  which  appears  to  include  wages  and 
expenses,  from  the  ist  day  of  December,  1372^ 
to  the  23rd  day  of  May,  1373,  that  is  for  one 
hundred  and  seventy-four  days  including  the 
day  of  departure  from,  and  the  day  of  return 
to,  London.  This  personal  account  amounts 
to  ;£ii6.  Minor  items  such  as  303.  for  both  trips 
over  the  Channel  and  £T,  los.  for  three  posts  to 
the  King,  carry  the  sum  total  of  expenses  to 


In  the  final  paragraph  it  is  stated  that  pay- 
ment is  to  be  made  to  Chaucer  of  the  balance 
of  ^25,  6s.  8d.  by  warrant  of  the  King's 
letter,  above  mentioned,  which  Chaucer  de- 
livered to  the  Treasurer  and  Chamberlain  at 
the  Treasury  of  Receipt,  Nov.  isth,  1373.  The 
Life  by  Sir  Harris  Nicolas,  Note  E,  contains 
the  Record  of  the  payment  of  this  sum  from 
the  Issue  Rolls,  Feb.  4th,  1374. 

The  first  Italian  journey  then  lasted  from 
Dec.  ist,  1372,  to  May  23rd,  1373,  a  little  less 
than  six  months.  To  estimate  fairly  the  prob- 
able influence  of  this  journey  upon  Chaucer 
the  poet,  we  must  endeavor  to  determine  the 
length  of  his  actual  stay  in  Italy,  deducting 
the  time  spent  en  route.  A  rough  estimate  of 
two  months?  for  the  journey  each  way  is  not 
likely  to  be  far  out.  In  fact  the  sum  received 

7  I  find  in  Information  for  Pilgrims,  ed.  E.  Gordon  Duff, 
that  the  pilgrim  itineraries  indicate  fifty-two  days'  journeys 
from  Calais  to  Milan,  and  sixteen  more  from  Milan  to  Flor- 
ence. Of  course  Chaucer  as  a  King's  messenger  traveled 


from  his  colleague  Jakes  de  Prouan,  precisely 
two  months  before  his  arrival  in  London,  is 
likely  to  have  been  paid  towards  the  expenses 
of  the  return  journey,  and  immediately  before 
its  beginning.  We  may  be  sure  that  he  could 
not  have  reached  Genoa  much  before  Feb.  ist, 
1372,  and  that  he  must^  have  left  Italy  before 
the  end  of  March  the  same  year.  Of  his 
movements  in  Italy  we  know  only  that  he  went 
to  Florence.  Assuming  that  he  went  thither" 
from  Genoa  and  returned  to  Genoa — a  reason- 
able supposition, for  he  met  his  colleague  on  the 
Genoese  mission8  Mar.  23rd — we  must  add  to 
the  time  actually  given  to  traveling  at  least 
twenty  days.  This  leaves  of  his  one  hundred 
and  seventy-four  days,  roughly  thirty-four  for 
doing  the  King's  business,  and  seeking  his 
own  pleasure,  except  so  far  as  it  was  incidental 
to  the  journey.  We  know  that  the  purpose  of 
the  Genoese  mission  was  chiefly  the  concession 
of  certain  commercial  privileges  in  England  to 
Genoese  merchants.  Chaucer's  service  in  se- 
cretis  negocijs  regis  can  hardly  have  been  this 
Genoese  matter.  Of  the  nature  of  his  service 
it  only  appears  that  he  went  in  nuncio  regis, 
and  dispatched  three  posts  to  the  King.  It  is 
perhaps  a  legitimate  inference  that  he  was 
merely  a  bearer  of  important  papers,  or  a 
special  messenger.  Can  some  student  of  his- 
tory tell  us  what  this  Florentine  business  is 
likely  to  have  been  ? 

It  would  be  a  pleasure,  passing  these  dry 
facts,  to  reconstruct  for  ourselves  Chaucer's 
Italienische  Reise,  as  he  lived  it  and  enjoyed 
it.  Unfortunately  this  pleasure  is  denied  us 
for  he  has  left  no  word  that  expresses  directly 
or  indirectly  the  effect  upoa  him  of  this  first 
visit  to  Italy.  After  the  second  Italian  jojjrney 
of  1378  the  case  is  far  different,  and  this 
journey,  as  I  have  elsewhere  tried  to  prove,  is 

somewhat  faster  than  the  average  pilgrim,  but  no  living  man, 
pilgrim  or  messenger,  made  fifty  days' journeys  on  horseback 
consecutively.  Sixty  days  from  London  to  Genoa  is  likely  to 
be  under  rather  than  over  the  time  actually  taken  for  the 
journey. 

8  The  commission  (vid.  Feed,,  vol.  iii,  p.  964)  states  that 
of  the  three  representatives  of  the  King,  two,  of  whom 
Johannes  de  Mari  should  be  one,  should  have  the  powers  of 
special  commissioners  to  Genoa.  We  know  that  Chaucer  was 
detached  for  at  least  a  third  of  his  time  in  Italy  on  the 
Florentine  business.  Probably  then,  Jakes  de  Prouan  was 
the  other  Genoese  commissioner  and  Chaucer's  meeting  with 
him  Mar.  asrd.,  1373,  is  likely  to  have  been  at  Genoa. 


212 


425         November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.         426 


the  true  beginning  of  his  "  Italian  Period." 
At  another  time  I  may  discuss  the  probability 
of  the  visit  to  Petrarch,  in  view  of  this  new 
date  for  the  first  Italian  journey.  In  this  paper 
I  have  prefered  to  deal  with  facts  of  Chaucer's 
biography  rather  than  with  theories  however 
probable. 

FRANK  JEWETT  MATHER,  JR. 
Williams  College. 


.     GERMAN  LEXICOLOGY. 

Fliigel- Schmidt-  Tangcr:  Worterbuch  der  Eng- 
lischen  und  Deutschen  Sprache  fur  Hand- 
und  Schulgebrauch.  Unter  besonderer 
Benutzung  von  Dr.  F.  Fliigel's  Allgemeinem 
Englisch-Deutschem  und  Deutsch-Engli- 
schem  Worterbuch  bearbeitet  von  Prof.  Dr. 
Im.  Schmidt  und  Dr.  G.  Tanger.  In  two 
Parts.  Parti:  English-German.  8vo,  pp.  x, 
968;  Part  II :  German-English.  8vo,  pp.  ix, 
1006.  Braunschweig:  G.  Westermann,  1896. 
(New  York :  Lemcke  &  Biichner.)  Both 
parts  together  $4.50,  the  G.-E.  part  alone 
$2.60. 

THE  work  is  intended  to  fill  a  gap  between 
the  large  works  of  Lucas,  Fliigel  and  Muret 
and  the  small  fry  whose  name  is  legion.  It  con- 
tains by  a  rough  estimate  20$  more  words 
than  Whitney's  or  Cassell-Heath's.  The  large 
and  readable  type,  the  open  page  with  three 
wide  columns,  should  commend  it  to  all  who 
are  ruining  their  eyesight  by  using  the  small 
cheap  English  and  American  Dictionaries, 
printed  in  what  Germans  aptly  call  Augen- 
pulver.  But  ungrateful,  as  it  may  seem,  we 
must  say  the  book  is  too  heavy  and  bulky  for 
a  school  and  hand  lexicon  ;  and  in  the  matter 
of  type  the  absence  of  italics  is  an  annoying 
blemish.  Under  Abtreiben  (the  noun),  for 
instance,  is  found  "law,  prolicide."  See  also 
Abfahrt.  All  the  English  in  an  article  that  is 
not  strictly  translation  should  have  been  in 
italics. 

The  authors  acknowledge  their  indebted- 
ness to  Lucas,  the  large  Fliigel,  the  Cassell- 
Heath,  Eger's  Technologisches  Worterbuch 
and  Eitzen's  Worterbuch  der  Handelssprac he. 
There  is  a  discrepancy  in  the  statements  as  to 
authorship  and  indebtedness  made  by  the 
authors  themselves  and  by  Messrs.  Lemcke  & 


Biichner.  The  latter  say:  "Professor  F. 
Fliigel  who  edited  this  new  edition  in  con- 
junction with  Schmidt  and  Tanger  has  now 
completed  the  long  expected  smaller  edition 
in  two  volumes,  etc."  The  authors  say, 

"  From  a  look  only  at  the  top-line  of  the  title- 
page,  or  at  the  names  on  the  back  of  the 
present  dictionary,  the  reader  might  easily  be 
led  to  imagine  that  it  is  a  triumvirate  of 
authors  who  share  among  them  the  responsi- 
bility for  its  publication.  To  prevent  any  such 
error,  which  is  only  too  likely  to  occur,  we 
state  expressly  that  the  two  undersigned  alone 
are  to  be  held  responsible  as  authors  of  this 
work.  The  name  of  Dr.  F.  FMiigel  occupying 
so  prominent  a  position  on  the  title-page,  is  in 
compliance  with  an  urgent  request  of  the 
publisher  (to  which  that  scholar  gave  his  con- 
sent) arising  from  previous  stipulations." 

Fliigel's  Universal  Dictionary  is  a  great  work 
in  every  way,  and  Schmidt  and  Tanger  need 
not  be  so  anxious  to  claim  that  Fliigel's  E.-G. 
part  has  been  rather  their  starting-point  than 
their  basis,  and  that  their  own  G.-E.  part  is 
an  entirely  independent  work.  To  have  made 

j  a  smaller  Fliigel  of  the  right  kind  would  have 
been  a  great  merit  and  no  mean  test  of  good 
judgment  in  the  selection  of  the  proper 
material,  which  is  by  no  means  apparent  in 
their  E.-G.  part.  Its  system  of  indicating 
English  pronunciation  is  more  complicated 
than  Fliigel's.  The  long  lines  over  oo,  ee,  oi, 

1  ou,  ow  confuse  the  eye.  Look,  for  instance,  at 
boyhood,  bowelless,  botryoidal.  The  family 
names  have  been  taken  up  liberally,  for  in- 
stance, O'Neal,  O'Neill,  Hughes,  Wilkes, 

,  Outram.  Gladstone  is  naively  called  Staats- 
mann.  Such  Latin  phrases  as  quo  animo,  quo 
ad hoc,  quod est demonstrandum  and  faciendum, 
y.  H.  S.  are  explained.  Now  would  anybody 
look  for  these  or  for  Fr.  huissier,  It.  giusto 
terza  rima  in  an  E.-G.  dictionary  ? 
Slang  is  liberally  introduced  in  both  parts. 

I  We  do  not  object  to  it.  Slang  is  an  important 
and  difficult  feature  of  any  language.  But 
the  following  under  '  urinal '  goes  too  far : 
urinal  of  the  planets,  hum.  Irland  (wegen  des 
vielen  Regens). 

The  selection  of  words  for  the  G.-E.  part  is 
more  judicious.  Foreign  words,  proper  names 
and  colloquialisms  are  generously  admitted. 
The  German  slang  is  not  regularly  marked  as 
such.  Non  Germans  need  to  be  told  that 


213 


427          November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          428 


aushunzen,  aufkratzen  (3),  anschnauzen,  an- 
ranzen  are  at  least  colloquialisms,  if  not  slang. 
The  editors  have  been  commendably  careful 
to  be  "up  to  date."  Fernsprecher  and  its 
compounds,  Ausflngler,  the  new  official  Fahr- 
karte  and  Abteil,  umsteigen  are  neither  in 
Lucas  nor  in  Fliigel.  It  is  interesting  to  see 
how  even  common  words  will  escape  the  dic- 
tionaries :  ausfallig  (—grob)  is  not  in  Grimm 
nor  in  any  G.-E.  dictionary.  There  is  one 
quotation  in  Sanders,  one  in  Heyne.  Yet  it 
may  be  found  in  Leander's  Trdumereien,  and 
it  is  a  common  word  in  the  spoken  language. 

The  grouping  of  the  meanings  of  a  word 
and  of  the  illustrations  and  idioms  under  each 
meaning  is  excellent,  but  is  no  advance  upon 
Fliigel  who  was  the  first  to  bring  order  out 
of  such  a  chaos  as  is  found  in  Lucas  and  even 
in  small  dictionaries.  Under  aushalten  it  is 
surprising  to  find  '  keep  (a  mistress)'  given  as 
its  first  meaning.  Can  this  be  due  to  Heyne  ? 
The  prepositions  are  very  difficult  to  treat. 
We  have  carefully  examined  an,  auf,  aus  and 
do  not  find  that  Schmidt  and  Tanger  have 
gotten  much  beyond  the  old-fashioned  enume- 
ration of  illustrations  and  idioms.  Paul's  and 
perhaps  also  Heyne's  dictionaries  came  out 
too  late  to  be  of  use. 

Etymology,  it  is  claimed,  would  have  been 
out  of  place  in  such  a  work.  This  will  not  be 
admitted  by  everybody.  A  little  etymology 
and  considerable  derivation  would  be  of  much 
aid  in  analysing  compounds  and  derivatives. 
Whitney's  dictionary  does  something  in  this 
way,  but  gives  too  much  Old  English. 

From  a  sense  of  duty  toward  an  English- 
speaking  public  which  has  yet  its  German  to 
learn,  we  must  emphasize  the  fact,  that  this 
dictionary  was  not  intended  for  them,  but  for 
Germans,  and  that  their  wants  are  not  well 
attended  to.  In  this  respect  it  is  a  serious  step 
backward  from  Lucas,  Fliigel,  Cassell-Heath 
and  Whitney.  Americans  and  Englishmen 
do  not  need  to  be  told — neither  need  Germans, 
for  that  matter — that  Hughes  and  O'Neal  are 
family  names,  and  that  Gladstone  is  an 
English  statesman.  The  whole  G.-E.  part 
also  is  written  with  a  view  to  the  needs  of 
Germans  studying  English.  The  following 
points  are  mentioned  to  prove  this  statement : 
(i)  There  are  whole  articles  entirely  in  Ger- 


man;for  instance, mitmiissen  except  the  abbrevi- 
ations 'sep.'  and  'i.';  ans  aufs.  (2)  Such  sup- 
erfluous hints  are  given  as  that  'indications' 
is  a  plural,  see  A nflug ;  that  'conduct'  is  a 
singular,  see  Antecedenzien.  (3)  The  articles 
are  overloaded  with  English  meanings,  Ger- 
man explanations  and  synonyms.  See,  for  in- 
stance, anzetteln,  Arzt,  ausgczeichnet,  Aus- 
druck,  aufmachen,  ankommen,  Ankauf,  all- 
mahlich.  It  looks  sometimes  as  if  a  string  of 
English  synonyms  from  Roget's  Thesaurus 
had  been  copied,  a  book  which  the  authors 
found  very  useful,  as  they  admit.  Under  Aus- 
flucht  the  following  translations  are  given  for 
eine  elende  Ausflucht,  "  a  miserable  (shuffling, 
paltry,  poor,  empty,  or  lame)  excuse  (or  plea), 
a  shuffle,  a  blank  come-off."  The  following  is 
the  article  anreden, 

"sep.  t.  (allg.}  to  speak  to,  to  address  ;  (indem 
-man  auf  der  Strasse  anjeinand  herantritt}  to 
accost;  (eine  Ansprache  an  eine  Menge  halten) 
to  harangue ;  mit  (einem  Titel}—,  to  title,  to 
call." 

Compare  this  with  the  small  Longmans  and 
the  large  Fliigel  and  it  will  be  found  that  the 
article  is  incomplete.  Ausgraben  has  an  article 
that  is  overloaded  with  English  meanings  and 
yet  incomplete. 

There  is  no  desire  on  our  part  to  belittle  this 
work,  but  we  must  insist  that  it  is  not,  and 
was  not  intended  to  be,  a  work  for  speakers  of 
English  who  have  not  already  acquired  a  great 
deal  of  German.  Both  the  E.-G.  and  the 
G.-E.  parts  of  a  dictionary  intended  for  Eng- 
lishmen and  Americans  call  for  methods  and 
matter  which  would  be  entirely  out  of  place  in 
a  dictionary  intended  for  Germans,  and  this 
so-called  smaller  Fliigel  falls  seriously  short 
of  this  principle. 

H.  C.  G.  BRANDT. 

Hamilton  College. 


GOETHE. 

Goethe  von  KARL  HEJNEMANN.   Leipzig:  1896. 
Verlag  von   E.   A.   Seemann.     2  vols.,  8vo, 
pp.  xi,  480;  vii,  448.  With  many  Illustrations. 
THE  inadequacy  of  the  older  Goethe  biogra- 
phies for  present  needs  has  been  keenly  felt  in 
Germany,   so  that  several   attempts   have  of 
late   been  made  to  write  a  biography  which 
should  be  popular,  and  yet  thoroughly  scholarly 


214 


429         November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7. 


430 


and  appreciative  of  the  greatness  of  the  man 
and  his  works.  The  difficulty  of  such  a  task 
is  very  great,  as  all  know  who  have  followed 
at  all  the  critical  activity  of  the  Goethe 
scholars  during  the  past  few  decades.  It 
seems  that  almost  all  the  valuable  general 
works  on  Goethe  of  the  past  twenty-five  or 
thirty  years  have  aimed  to  appeal  rather  to 
scholars  than  to  the  general  public.  Profound 
studies  of  Goethe's  genius  and  personality 
like  those  of  Scholl,  Hehn,  or  Otto  Harnack 
can  certainly  not  be  intended  for  the  uniniti- 
ated reader.  On  the  other  hand,  the  popular 
works  that  have  appeared  within  the  last  few 
years  are,  with  the  exception  of  Grimm's 
lectures  on  Goethe,  either  intolerably  dry  and 
pedantic,  or  dangerously  superficial. 

Two  biographies  have  finally  appeared  which 
will  doubtless  make  Goethe  better  known  and 
appreciated  throughout  the  world.  We  refer 
to  those  by  Richard  M.  Meyer  and  Karl  Heine- 
mann.  Fortunately  these  two  works  to  a  large 
degree  supplement  each  other.  Meyer's 
chief  aim  is  to  popularize  and,  as  far  as 
possible, to  summarize  the  best  critical  scholar- 
ship on  Goethe's  thought  and  poetry.  He 
touches  upon  the  facts  of  Goethe's  life  only 
in  so  far  as  they  are  absolutely  necessary 
for  understanding  a  discussion  of  the  poet's 
works.  He  thus  assumes,  on  the  part  of 
the  general  public,  a  knowledge  of  Goethe 
which,  in  our  opinion,  hardly  exists. 

Heinemann  has  a  decidedly  more  popular 
aim.  He  writes  distinctly  for  the  beginner  in 
the  study  of  Goethe.  His  main  intention  is  to 
inspire  the  reader  with  the  personality  of  the 
poet  and,  therefore,  he  dwells  only  upon  such 
of  Goethe's  works  as  are  the  clearest  and 
most  immediate  expression  of  his  personality. 
The  main  stress  of  the  book  is  laid  upon  the 
environment  of  Goethe  and  its  influence  upon 
the  character  and  genius  of  the  poet.  In  so 
doing,  Heinemann  merely  carries  out  Goethe's 
own  idea  expressed  to  Eckermann  in  1825. 

"  People  talk  forever  of  originality,  but  what 
does  it  all  mean !  As  soon  as  we  are  born, 
the  world  begins  to  operate  upon  us  and  con- 
tinues to  do  so  to  the  end.  And  everywhere, 
what  can  we  call  especially  our  own,  except 
energy,  strength  and  will  ?  If  I  should  de- 
clare to  what  extent  1  am  indebted  to  great 
predecessors  and  contemporaries,  not  much 
would  be  left.''1 


Accordingly,  Heinemann  presents  to  us  a 
series  of  literary  portraits  of  all  the  men  and 
women  who  in  any  way  reacted  upon  Goethe. 
The  material  which  he  gives  us  is  by  no  means 
new,  but  it  is  entirely  reliable.  He  generalizes 
with  excellent  judgment,  and  sketches  with 
much  force  and  clearness  important  literary 
movements.  Especially  strong  are, for  instance, 
his  portraiture  of  Herder,  and  his  sketch  of 
the  Storm-and-Stress  movement.  The  full, 
and  yet  very  careful  and  concise  presentation 
of  literary  and  biographical  facts  offered  by 
Heinemann,  will  make  the  book  particularly 
useful  to  American  students  who  wish  to  ob- 
tain a  general  comprehensive  view  of  the  life 
and  times  of  Goethe. 

The  book  contains,  besides,  several  hundred 
well-executed  pictures  of  Goethe's  friends 
and  acquaintances,  a,nd  of  the  various  inter" 
esting  places  of  his  abode.  Very  suggestive 
are  the  numerous  portraits  of  Goethe  himself, 
which,  in  their  wise  arrangement,  give  us  some 
idea  of  the  spell  that  his  personality  exer- 
cised upon  all  who  knew  him.  The  book  is 
written  in  so  fluent  and  clear  a  style  that  it 
holds  the  interest  of  the  reader  to  the  very 
end.  We  are  never  made  to  feel  the  very  ex- 
tensive and  solid  learning  which  is  at  the  au- 
thor's command.  In  short,  Heinemann's  biog- 
raphy will  do  much  toward  making  the  real 
Goethe  better  known  to  the  world  at  large, 
and  should  certainly  supplant  the  very  unre- 
liable biography  of  Lewes  and  the  lifeless 
work  of  Diintzer. 

MAX  WINKLER. 

University  of  Michigan. 


ORIGIN   OF  ITALIAN    POETRY. 

La  Poesia  Siciliana  Sotto  Gli  Svevi,  da  G.  A. 
CESAREO.  Catania:  1894.  8vo,  pp.  xi,  412. 
DURING  the  past  year  quite  a  number  of  pub- 
lications have  appeared,  having  for  their  sub- 
ject the  question  of  the  origin  of  Italian  ver- 
nacular poetry  in  Sicily.  The  most  preten- 
tious of  these  publications  is  that  of  Cesareo ; 
his  book  is  replete  with  suggestive  ideas 
which  serve  to  render  a  persual  of  it  as  invit- 
ing as  that  of  many  productions  of  less 
scholarly  import.  Notwithstanding  this,  how- 
ever, his  work  is  disappointing  in  one  particu- 
lar. He  devotes  two  thirds  of  his  treatise  to 


215 


431 


November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7. 


432 


an  endeavor  to  disprove  the  different  theories 
of  foreign  influence  on  the  Sicilian  school ; 
in  the  last  part  of  the  book,  then,  we  naturally 
expect  to  find  strong  arguments  adduced  in 
favor  of  the  native  origin  of  the  school,  but 
such  is  not  the  case,  and  the  effect  left  on  the 
mind  of  the  reader  at  the  conclusion  is  that 
something  is  lacking, — that  a  large  portico 
has  been  constructed,  out  of  all  proportion  to 
the  small  edifice  behind  it. 

The  title  itself  is  significant;  the  author's 
investigations  do  not  include  any  literary 
manifestation  of  a  date  later  than  the  battle  of 
Benevento , — thus  we  see  that  while  the  di- 
vision by  Dante  of  early  Italian  poetry  into 
two  schools — the  Sicilian  and  the  "dolce  stil 
nuovo  " — suffices  to  recall  the  two  most  prom- 
inent features  of  this  poetry,  the  distinction 
does  not  satisfy  the  critical  spirit  of  the  modern 
specialist.  I  believe  the  latter  is  in  the  right, 
however ;  surely  neither  the  form  nor  the  con- 
tent of  the  school  of  Frederick  the  Second  re- 
mained the  same  when  transplanted  into  Tus- 
cany, and  many  stages  of  transition  may  be 
marked  between  the  manner  of  Giacomo  da 
Lentini  and  that  of  Guittone  d'Arezzo.  Cesa- 
reo  appreciates  this  fact  and  expresses  a  wish 
that  some  one  will  study  "  la  poesia  toscana  di 
transizione  "  (p.  305). 

The  entire  work  is  divided  into  three  chap- 
ters :  Chap,  i,  I  Poeti  (pp.  1-64) ;  Chap,  ii,  La 
Lingua  (pp.  65-241) ;  Chap,  iii,  La  Poesia  (pp. 
243-412). 

In  chapter  i  (The  Poets),  the  author  shows 
that  in  the  last  years  of  the  twelfth  century 
the  Sicilian  court  was  so  favored  as  to  be  the 
scene  of  a  rivalry  between  Arabic  and  Latin 
poetry;  the  former  yields  before  the  victorious 
Roman  idiom  which,  in  turn,  loses  its  popu- 
larity when  the  new  vulgar  Sicilian  (the  object 
of  investigation  in  our  present  volume)  mani- 
fests itself.  Cesareo  does  not  advance  more 
than  ten  pages  in  his  first  chapter  before  he 
pronounces  himself  upon  one  of  the  several 
striking  points  of  his  book :  he  does  not  as- 
sign to  Provencal  literature  the  influence  upon 
the  Sicilian  school  which  the  former  has  al- 
ways been  supposed  to  have  exercised.  No 
trustworthy  record  exists  of  a  native  Proven- 
93!  poet  who  lived  at  the  Sicilian  court,  or  of 
a  Sicilian  poet  who  wrote  in  Provenjal ;  our 


author  does  not  venture  to  deny  that  Proven- 
cal poetry  was  known  in  Sicily,  and  that  langue- 
d-oc  bards  passed  more  or  less  time  in  that  re- 
gion ;  but  this  fact  does  not  cause  him  to  waver 
in  his  position.  He  attempts  to  demonstrate 
that  Sicilian  vernacular  poetry  had  received 
its  vital  impulse  before  Frederick  the  Second 
ascended  the  throne  of  the  empire,  and  before 
Provencal  influence  could  have  insinuated  it- 
self; the  first  proof  of  this  assumption  is  indi- 
rect, the  second  direct.  The  writer  intimates 
that  life  in  Sicily  was  entirely  different  from 
that  of  other  parts  of  Italy  and  that  a  poet 
from  southern  France  would  probably  have 
found  little  congeniality  there. 

The  oldest  Sicilian  canzone  for  which  an 
approximate  date  may  be  posited  is  one  that, 
judging  from  internal  evidence,  must  be  of 
the  year  1205.  We  cannot  conceive  that  this 
attempt  of  Giacomo  da  Lentini  was  the  first 
essay  of  the  Sicilian  school ;  on  the  contrary, 
the  composition  presupposes  a  long  period  of 
preparation  of  the  popular  speech  for  artistic 
expression.  Now  Frederick's  influence  was 
not  potent  previous  to  1220, — an  epoch  when 
the  school  had  long  since  completed  its  initia- 
tory stages — after  this  date  the  Emperor, 
learned  and  brave,  a  lover  of  every  science 
and  liberal  art,  a  master  of  languages  and 
literatures,  gratefully  takes  under  his  protec- 
tion the  pioneers  who  had  dignified  the  dialect 
-of  his  favorite  domain,  and  the  popular  be- 
comes a  court  school. 

Cesareo  devotes  the  greater  part  (pp.  25-64) 
of  his  initial  chapter  to  short  sketches  of  the 
lives  of  twenty-four  poets ;  the  information 
possessed  on  the  career  of  most  of  these  men 
is  limited.  Accompanying  each  biography 
we  find  an  enumeration  of  the  cattzoni  that 
belong  to  each  given  author,  and  also  an 
indication  of  the  manuscripts  in  which  these 
canzoni  are  preserved.  In  Ihis  section  of  his 
book  we  note  again  a  new  departure  in  our 
investigator's  method.  He  proposes  that  a 
line  shall  be  drawn  between  what  he  considers 
two  generations  of  Sicilian  poets, — that  of  the 
time  of  Frederick  and  that  of  the  time  of 
Manfred.  We  are  prepared  to  appreciate  the 
importance  which  Cesareo  evidently  designs 
to  attach  to  this  division  only  when  we  have 
followed  him  considerably  further  in  his  ex- 


216 


433         November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          434 


position.  On  p.  205,  for  example,  we  observe 
that,  in  upholding  the  popular  Sicilian  as  op- 
posed to  the  Provencal  origin  of  the  school, 
he  criticises  Gaspary  for  his  failure  to  distin- 
guish between  the  two  generations  ;  our  writer 
asserts  that  the  second  family  of  poets  was 
far  more  infused  with  the  spirit  of  the  litera- 
ture of  France  than  was  the  first,  and  that 
Proven<;alisms  in  the  second  prove  nothing 
with  regard  to  the  poetic  antecedents  of  mem- 
bers of  the  earlier  race. 

The  opening  chapter  is  closed  by  another 
novel  point  of  view  to  be  added  to  those 
already  mentioned :  The  old  text,  Le  Ciento 
Novelle  Antike,  while  possessing  a  recognized 
linguistic  value  as  one  of  the  earliest  speci- 
mens of  Italian  prose,  is  often  consulted 
also  for  its  incidental  references  to  historical 
events,  and,  in  lieu  of  other  records,  the 
testimony  of  this  monument  is  as  a  rule  ac- 
cepted. Now  in  the  twenty-eighth  novella  of 
this  collection  the  writer  says  : 

"  Lo  Imperadore  Federigho  fue  nobilissimo 

singnore, et  chi  avea  alchuna  speziale 

bontade,   a  llui  veniano:  trovatori,  sonatori, 

belli  parlatori et  d'ogni  maniera 

genti. 

So  far  as  I  know,  every  one  up  to  the  present 
who  has  interested  himself  in  the  matter  has 
taken  it  for  granted  that  the  "  trovatori  "  here 
referred  to  were  Provencals;  Cesareo,  how- 
ever, does  not  interpret  the  word  in  this 
manner ;  he  inclines  to  the  belief  that  these 
"  trovatori  "  represent  the  Sicilian  poets  them- 
selves. 

Chapter  ii,  devoted  to  a  study  of  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Sicilian  poets,  is  a  masterly. piece 
of  work  ;  it  indicates  on  the  part  of  the  author 
not  only  a  knowledge  and  appreciation  of  the 
philological  researches  of  previous  students  of 
the  Sicilian  dialect  but  also  a  practical  com- 
mand of  the  varieties  of  speech  employed  at 
present  in  southern  Italy.  After  occupying 
about  twenty  pages  with  reviews  of  the  im- 
portant controversies  which,  from  the  time  of 
Dante  till  our  own  day,  have  cast  mingled 
light  and  shade  on  the  questions  that  arise 
concerning  the  language  of  the  Sicilian  school, 
Cesareo  enters  upon  his  own  investigation  of 
the  problem.  He  has  the  advantage  of  a 
knowledge  of  several  texts  unknown  or  inac- 
cessible to  Gaspary.  We  note  in  this  connec- 


tion a  methodical  consideration  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  phonology,  morphology  and  syn- 
tax treated  in  the  order  here  mentioned.  The 
author  does  not  believe  that  a  copyist  has  ar- 
bitrarily transformed  all  the  original  rhymes 
of  these  early  poets,  neither  will  he  admit 
that  the  latter  had  faulty  conceptions  of 
rhythm  (a  suspicion  first  expressed  by  Celso 
Cittadini  and  sustained  in  our  own  day  by 
Monaci).  On  the  contrary,  the  fact  that,  to 
correct  form,  one  codex  restores  a  rhyme  ren- 
dered imperfectly  in  another  manuscript  in- 
dicates that  originally  all,  or  nearly  all,  the 
rhymes  were  faultless.  Gaspary  has  posited 
the  assertion  that  if  we  were  to  translate  the 
poems  as  we  now  know  them  into  the  Sicilian 
dialect,  some  rhymes  would  be  destroyed ; 
Cesareo  allots  little  weight  to  this  idea  since 
(he  says)  the  old  language  was  characterized 
by  certain  forms  which  have  not  been  pre- 
served in  the  modern,  and  the  Sicilians,  in 
order  to  enrich  their  native  dialect,  may  have 
borrowed  vocables  from  other  districts  or  re- 
fashioned their  own  words  on  the  model  of 
the  Latin. 

This  study  of  the  Sicilian  idiom  (thus  con- 
sidered by  itself)  having  been  concluded,  the 
author  now  faces  the  question  of  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Provencal  language  on  the  Si- 
cilian. Gaspary  treated  as  Provensalisms  in 
the  Sicilian  poems  all  words  that  could  be  ex- 
plained only  by  the  laws  of  Provencal  pho- 
nology and  not  by  those  governing  the  for- 
mation of  Italian  speech-elements.  This  meth- 
od certainly  furnished  a  safe  norm  and  Ce- 
sareo does  not  essay  to  controvert  it ;  he  does, 
however,  attempt  to  reduce  the  number  of 
words  which  may  rightfully  be  supposed  to  be 
Provencal.  At  this  point  of  the  investigation 
the  writer  proffers  two  statements  which  do 
not  correspond  to  the  general  scholarly  char- 
acter of  his  treatment  of  his  subject  and  which, 
in  my  opinion,  render  him  but  meagre  slip- 
port  in  his  attempts  to  annul  the  theory  that 
Provencal  influence  was  a  strong  factor  in  the 
development  of  the  Sicilian  school.  He  grants 
that  numbers  of  Provencal  words  had  found 
their  way  into  the  Sicilian  dialect  as  a  natural 
consequence  of  the  political  and  commercial 
relations  which  bound  Sicily  and  Southern 
France  ;  but,  he  ventures  to  assert,  this  ex- 


217 


435 


November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          436 


change  may  have  occurred  before  the  action 
of  any  literary  influence  of  the  latter  country 
upon  the  former.  Sicilian  poets  writing  at  a 
date  posterior  to  this  extensive  introduction  of 
Provencal  words,  may  have  adopted  these 
words  from  the  living  speech  of  the  people  at 
the  same  time  that  they  appropriated  indi- 
genous forms,  but  with  an  entire  lack  of  con- 
sciousness of  their  Proven£al  origin.  Evi- 
dently, there  is  no  way  of  establishing  his  po- 
sition on  this  point,  so  Cesareo  simply  repeats 
his  suggestion  five  times  on  as  many  pages 
(207-211).  Since  such  repetition  does  not 
warrant  any  conclusion,  he  is  naturally  im- 
pelled to  seek  refuge  in  a  general  remark  to 
the  effect  that  it  is  impossible  to  arrive  at  an 
assured  judgment  when  we  consider  the  pre- 
sent transitory  stage  of  the  whole  problem. 
Every  day  new  texts  (examples  of  which  he  fails 
to  specify)  are  being  discovered;  these  often 
make  evident  that  words  and  locutions  in  a 
given  speech-district  were  borrowed  exclusive 
of  any  literary  influence ;  the  science  of  the 
history  of  our  dialects  is  not  yet  sufficiently 
advanced  to  enable  us  to  distinguish  with  pre- 
cision native  and  foreign  elements ;  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  we  do  not  know  what  the  actual 
state  of  the  Sicilian  dialect  may  have  been 
during  the  first  years  of  the  thirteenth  century! 
After  this  digression  on  Provencal  influence 
the  author  makes  an  interesting  re'sume'  of  the 
results  of  his  investigations  on  the  language 
of  the  poems ;  his  first  table  (pp.  212-214) 
concerns  the  vowels,  the  second  (pp.  214-215) 
the  consonants  and  morphology.  His  sum- 
mary, in  brief,  is  the  following:  In  the  forty 
Sicilian  poems  recorded  in  the  codices  known 
at  present,  there  are  about  a  hundred  rhymes 
and  more  than  six  hundred  words  which  are 
essentially  Sicilian ;  therefore,  one  may  infer 
that  there  existed  an  extensive  dialect  basis 
/or  the  language  of  the  first  poets  of  the 
school.  This  statement  Cesareo  strengthens 
by  a  negative  argument :  it  has  been  said 
repeatedly  that  all  the  poets  of  the  Sicilian 
school  availed  themselves  of  a  common  lan- 
guage that  was  not  the  idiom  of  any  one 
particular  territory,  but  constructed  with  the 
aid  of  several  prominent  early  dialects  among 
which  the  Tuscan  predominated.  In  order 
to  ascertain  if  such  was  the  case,  Cesareo 


searches  for  Tuscan  rhymes  in  Sicilian  verses; 
these  compositions  do  reveal  rhymes  foreign 
to  Sicilian,  but  they  are  readily  explicable  as 
due  to  imitation  of  the  Latin.  We  are  uncrit- 
ical in  supposing  that  the  members  of  the 
school — learned  clerks,  judges,  doctors  and 
notaries — copied  the  Tuscan,  unless  the  es- 
pecial Tuscan  vowel  differed  from  the  Latin 
with  which  the  poets  were  familiar.  Cesareo 
argues  finally  (p.  225)  that  in  these  forty 
poems, — after  substracting  forms  common  to 
Sicily  and  Tuscany,  after  noting  their  passage 
through  several  generations  of  amanuenses 
intent  upon  Tuscanizing  them — there  are  three 
codices  which  do  preserve  one  hundred 
rhymes  and  six  hundred  words  and  locutions 
which  are  strictly  Sicilian.  Of  these  words 
not  one  has  been  conclusively  proved  to  be 
imported  from  dialects  other  than  those  of  the 
neighboring  South.  Therefore,  it  must  be 
evident  that  the  old  Sicilian  bards  wrote  in 
Sicilian — "  siciliano  illustre  ;  siciliano  latineg- 
giante  e  un  po'  provenzaleggiante ;  siciliano 
aulico,  curiale,  cardinale ;  siciliano  elegante  e 
letterario  quanto  si  vuole  ;  ma  siciliano." 

We  now  arrive  at  the  third  and  last  chapter 
which  is  a  painstaking  treatise  on  the  many 
points  of  interest  which  bear  upon  the  content 
of  the  poems.  Cesareo  opens  the  chapter  by 
inviting  attention  to  the  distinctions  to  be 
borne  in  mind  between  the  compositions  of 
the  reign  of  Frederick  and  those  of  the  time 
of  Manfred,  claiming  that  the  former  were 
more  vivid,  spontaneous  and  unaffected  by 
foreign  influence ;  a  marked  propensity  for 
Provencal  innovations  asserted  itself  only  in 
the  writings  of  the  younger  set  of  Sicilian 
troubadours,  manifested  its  full  power  in 
Guittone  d'Arezzo  and  endured  until  the  time 
when  Guido  Guinicelli,  seeking  within  the 
recesses  of  his  own  spirit  a  source  of  inspira- 
tion, established  a  new  philosophic  school. 

On  pages  257-284  we  have  a  study  of  the 
verses  of  Giacomo  da  Lentini,  in  whose  career 
our  author  traces  three  different  artistic  ten- 
dencies that  correspond  to  three  successive 
stages  of  intellectual  development  in  the  life 
of  that  poet.  The  first  manner  of  Giacomo  is 
to  be  observed  in  his  bourgeois  poetry — charac- 
terized by  a  natural  and  sincere  expression  of 
love  and  untainted  by  courtly  affectation  as 


218 


437          November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTE?,.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          438 


well  as  by  popular  crudity.  The  second  be- 
trays an  overweening  fondness  for  the  stately 
Provencal  style.  The  third  tendency  is  repre- 
sented by  what  Cesareo  denominates  "doc- 
trinal "  poetry.  Several  pages  of  the  work 
before  us  are  given  up  to  a  scrutiny  of  this 
peculiar  manifestation  of  Giacomo's  genius ; 
the  claim  is  even  advanced  that  the  element 
of  learned  images  and  comparisons  was  intro- 
duced into  poetic  literature  by  the  celebrated 
notary ;  this  claim,  however,  cannot  be  con- 
sidered as  definitely  established,  since  there 
was  a  certain  Richart  de  Barbezieu  (who,  ac- 
cording to  Diez,  flourished  during  the  first 
years  of  the  thirteenth  century)  whose  canzoni 
were  replete  with  allegories  derived  from  the 
science  of  his  day.  In  order,  then,  to  make 
Giacomo  antedate  Richart,  Cesareo,  by  means 
of  a  series  of  ingenious  hypotheses,  endeavors 
to  persuade  us  that  the  incident  concerning 
Richart  referred  to  in  the  Ciento  Novelle 
Antike  occurred  in  1240  when  that  bard  was  a 
young  man.  Our  author  attributes  to  Giacomo 
still  greater  prominence  when  he  asserts  that 
the  sonnet  was  invented  by  the  latter.  The 
doctrinal  poetry  was  cultivated  by  but  a  small 
number  of  the  master's  contemporaries,  who 
either  did  not  comprehend  or  did  not  like  it ; 
on  the  other  hand,  the  sonnet  rapidly  won 
popular  favor,  and,  after  having  been  improved 
in  the  hands  of  Guittone  d'Arezzo,  became  the 
kind  of  composition  most  cherished  in  Tus- 
cany and  at  Bologna. 

Cesareo  now  passes  in  review  another  species 
of  composition  essayed  by  members  of  the 
Sicilian  school,  though  not  by  Giacomo.  This 
new  style  is  entitled  la  poesia  popolaresca 
realistica.  The  latter  is  to  be  distinguished 
from  the  poesia  borghese  in  that  the  realistic 
verse  represents  the  passions  and  ideas  of  the 
masses  of  the  people  ;  the  content  is  vulgar, 
the  method  objective,  and  we  fail  to  discover 
any  suggestion  of  the  influence  of  chivalrous 
formulae.  The  best  representative  of  the 
borghese  style  was  Giacomino  Pugliese,  whose 
work,  however,  is  infected  by  popular,  realis- 
tic characteristics.  Cesareo,  in  the  course  of 
seven  pages,  portrays  the  efforts  of  this  author 
and  then  enumerates  the  most  prominent 
members  of  the  borghese  school,  among  whom 
were  Frederick  ii,  Rinaldo  d'Aquino  and 


Guido  delle  Colonne. 

The  apostle  of  the  realistic  school  was  Cielo 
dal  Camo,  author  of  the  famous  Contrasfo, 
beginning  with  "Rosa  fresca  aulentissima  ". 
The  present  critic  adds  thirty  to  the  hundreds 
of  pages  already  covered  by  discussions  on 
the  various  aspects  of  this  author.  The  date  ' 
assigned  by  D'Ancona  for  the  composition  of 
the  poem  (between  the  years  1231  and  1250)  is 
not  questioned,  but  Cesareo  is  not  prepared  to 
admit  with  D'Ancona  that  Cielo  was  a  native 
of  Sicily.  Caix  was  the  first  to  suspect  that 
the  language  of  the  poem  was  not  Sicilian  and 
termed  \\.pugli<:se,  while  the  present  investi- 
gator inclines  to  the  belief  that  the  dialect 
coloring  of  Cielo's  piece  points  toward  a  Nea- 
politan background.  It  will  be  found  upon 
examination  that  where  supposed  Sicilian 
forms  appear,  these  forms  are  identical  in 
every  case  with  corresponding  Neapolitan  phe- 
nomena, whereas  many  additional  Neapolitan 
characterestics,  unknown  to  Sicilian,  may  be 
discovered  ;  some  of  these  are  the  preference 
for  e  instead  of/  both  pretonic,  tonic  and  final 
(asemenare,  pentesse,  parente);  diphthongiza- 
tion  in  cases  like  castiello,  tiempo,  niervi ;  use 
of  b  for  v  (abere,  bolontate).  Another  Nea- 
politan peculiarity  occurs  in  the  versification 
of  the  contralto.  The  metrical  combination 
of  alexandrines  and  hendecasyllables  is  en- 
countered only  in  compositions  belonging  to 
the  dialect  of  Naples. 

Our  author  does  not  agree  with  Caix  that 
there  exists  in  the  contrasto  an  evident  imita- 
tion of  French  pastorals.  The  treatment  ot 
the  subject  of  the  poem  is  such  as  would  sug- 
gest itself  to  any  imaginative  mind ;  we  even 
find  a  model  of  the  species  among  the  idyls  of 
Theocritus.  The  French  and  Provencal  words 
do  not  indicate  anything  as  to  literary  imita- 
tion ;  the  southern  Italian  dialects  have  gar- 
nered French,  Arab,  Proven£al  and  Spanish 
words  as  the  result  of  conquest  and  immigra- 
tion, but  it  would  be  disastrous  to  wager  that 
a  Neapolitan  who  to-day  uses  guappo,  gilecco, 
riffa  or  locco  may  be  an  imitator  of  Lope  or 
Calderon !  In  this  same  section  Cesareo 
inserts  a  sarcastic  refutation  of  the  arguments 
of  Jeanroy  who  upholds  the  theory  of  French 
imitation  in  the  "Rosa  fresca."  As  to  the 
personality  of  the  author  of  the  Contrasto,  our 


219 


439         November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7. 


440 


author  thinks  the  idea  of  his  having  been 
a  noble  is  based  only  on  legend  ;  he  was  more 
probably  a  plebeian  of  some  education  who 
wandered  from  castle  to  castle,  from  piazza  to 
piazza,  singing  his  song,  which  is  not  wholly 
popular,  but  more  nearly  so  than  any  other 
work  of  art  of  the  thirteenth  century. 

The  writer  now  reviews  that  realistic  poetry 
which  was  written  by  learned  literary  men 
as  opposed  to  the  plebeian  Cielo.  This  poetry 
may  be  classed  under  four  types  :  i — The  Can- 
zone di  Commiato  in  which  the  hero,  about  to 
depart  from  his  beloved,  gives  and  receives 
the  most  tender  assurances  of  affection ;  2 — 
The  Canzone  delta  donna  innamorata  in  which 
the  lady  expresses  her  unreciprocated  passion 
for  some  cavalier ;  3 — The  canzone  della  mal 
maritata  in  which  the  woman  complains  to  her 
lover  of  the  sufferings  she  endures  through  her 
association  with  an  uncongenial  husband  ;  4 — 
The  canzone  della  donna  abbandonata  in  which 
the  female  character  inveighs  against  the  ill- 
omened  destiny  that  has  separated  her  lover 
from  her.  After  illustrating  these  four  themes 
by  numerous  selections,  and  mentioning  the 
more  prominent  writers  on  each  theme, Cesareo 
proposes  (p.  351)  two  questions  concerning  the 
compositions  and  with  a  consideration  of  these 
points  his  book  closes.  The  first  question  is  : 
Were  these  themes  native  to  Italian  popular 
poetry  or  were  they  imported  from  the  other 
side  of  the  Alps  ?  The  second  is  :  Granting 
that  they  were  indigenous,  how  did  they  origi- 
nate and  develop?  Cesareo  takes  up  each 
one  of  these  themes  separately,  and  seeks  for 
corresponding  French  or  Provencal  equiva- 
lents. The  subject  of  the  mal  maritata  is 
treated  in  the  poetry  of  France  ;  to  ascertain 
if  the  Italian  is  in  this  particular  an  imitation 
of  the  French,  the  writer  examines  the  three 
genres  of  the  French  lyric  defined  by  Grober 
in  the  latter's  examination  of  Bartsch's  collec- 
tion. Prominent  among  these  genres  are  the 
canzoni  a  personaggi  (so  called  by  Gaston 
Paris  ; — by  Jeanroy,  canzoni  drammatiche) 
and  our  author  admits  that  on  the  surface  there 
is  an  alliance  between  the  latter  and  the 
Italian  mal  maritata  more  evident  at  first 
sight  than  that  between  the  contrasto  and  the 
pastourelle.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are 
essential  differences  which  indicate  that  the 


relationships  discovered  are  such  as  one  would 
naturally  expect.  Our  author  can  but  admit 
that  the  Italian  trovatori  must  have  been 
acquainted  with  the  popular  poetry  of  France 
and  Provence,  but  just  at  this  point  we  are 
introduced  to  another  fine  distinction  which 
will  probably  not  carry  conviction  to  the  minds 
of  all  readers  :  the  critic  intrenches  himself 
behind  another  general  statement  to  the  effect 
that  "  altro  k.  conoscere,  altro  6  imitare  " 
(p.  368).  It  will  certainly  be  a  literary  feat 
when  some  one  shall  establish  a  means  of  prov- 
ing that  a  given  French  locution  used  by  an 
Italian  poet  (who  had  seen  it  in  a  French 
poem)  would  have  been  adopted  by  him,  even 
if  he  had  not  seen  it  before! — We  find  next 
considered  the  canzone  della  donna  ("  e  segna- 
tamente  della  fanciulla ")  innamorata,  the 
most  frequent  source  of  inspiration  in  old  as 
well  as  in  modern  popular  Italian  poetry. 
The  claim  is  made  that  while  this  species  and 
likewise  that  of  the  canzone  di  commiato  may 
be  found  in  France  in  the  thirteenth  century, 
the  oldest  known  examples  are  assuredly 
Italian;  at  the  most,  our  author  is  not  willing 
to  concede  more  than  that  the  theme  was 
disseminated  over  all  Romance  territory,  and 
that  it  germinated  and  developed  in  different 
ways  in  different  countries.  The  same  may 
be  said  of  the  canzone  della  donna  abban- 
donata. 

After  this  rather  minute  examination  cover- 
ing nearly  forty  pages,  some  general  arguments 
are  adduced  in  favor  of  the  originality  of  the 
Italian  themes;  for  example,  the  species  of 
semi-learned  poetry  most  preferred  in  France 
and  Provence  in  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth 
centuries  were  the  alba,  the  pastourelle,  the 
chanson  d'histoire  and  the  chanson  a  personn- 
ages.  Now,  of  these,  the  first  three  are  quite 
unknown  to  Sicilian  poetry,  and  the  devel- 
opment of  the  latter  kind  in  Italy  was  on  lines 
different  from  those  followed  in  France. 
Cesareo  claims  that  if  the  Italian  poets  had 
wished  to  introduce  French  matter  into  Italian 
it  is  natural  to  suppose  that  they  would  have 
selected  that  class  of  composition  which  they 
knew  was  already  popular  with  their  neigh- 
bors. Again,  all  the  French  and  Provensal 
chansons  a  personnages  and  pastonrelles  are 
characterized  by  a  conventional,  technical 


220 


441        November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.  442 


formula  of  introduction  that  relates  how  the 
poet-knight,  riding  from  one  place  to  another, 
heard  and  saw  that  which  he  proceeds  to 
recount.  This  prelude  is  wholly  wanting  in 
the  efforts  of  the  Sicilian  poets.  Again,  the 
obligatory  reference  by  the  French  songsters 
to  Spring,  flowers,  gardens  and  birds  would 
scarcely  have  been  omitted  (as  we  find  it)  by 
the  Sicilians  had  the  latter  been  imitating  the 
French. 

Cesareo  now  arrives  at  his  second  question 
(the  manner  of  the  origin  and  development  of 
the  Italian  poetry,  granting  that  it  is  indige- 
nous). This  problem  is  the  more  difficult  and 
the  less  satisfactorily  answered  for  the  reader 
as  well  as  for  the  author,  who  frankly  acknowl- 
edges (p.  393)  that  what  he  has  to  say  is  in  the 
line  of  conjecture.  This  inability  to  prove  the 
native  Sicilian  origin  of  the  poetry  that  he  has 
just  tried  to  show  as  not  borrowed  from  French 
or  Provencal,  certainly  does  not  strengthen  his 
position  on  the  latter  point.  What  renders 
also  his  conjectures  less  weighty,  is  the  fact 
that  for  examples  of  early  popular  poetry  he 
does  not  confine  himself  to  Sicily,  but  merely 
supposes  the  existence  in  this  province  of  forms 
popular  in  other  parts  of  Italy. 

Having  thus  summarized  the  contents  of 
this  book,  it  may  be  of  value  to  call  attention 
again  to  the  points  of  the  same  which  have 
appealed  to  the  reviewer  as  novel  or  striking. 
In  brief,  then,  Cesareo  holds:  i — Little  Pro- 
vencal influence  is  to  be  traced  in  the  Sicilian 
school ;  the  latter  was  well  under  way  before 
Frederick  the  Second  flourished.  2— The 
school  was,  in  its  inception,  popular  and  be- 
came a  court  school  only  when  Frederick  acted 
as  its  Maecenas.  3 — Two  generations  of  Sici- 
lian poets  must  be  distinguished,  those  of  the 
time  of  Frederick,  and  those  of  the  time  of 
Manfred.  4 — The  term,  "  trovatori  "  occur- 
ing  in  the  Ciento  Novelle  Antike  may  refer 
to  the  Sicilians  themselves.  5 — There  is  an 
extensive  background  of  characteristic  Sicil- 
ian words  in  the  language  of  the  early  poets 
of  the  school.  6 — Provencal  words  may  have 
come  into  Sicily  before  the  exercise  of  any 
literary  influence  of  Provence  upon  the  latter 
country.  7 — We  should  account  as  Tuscan 
words,  in  the  poems,  only  those  whose  vowels 
are  not  the  same  as  the  vowels  of  the  corre- 


sponding Latin  words.  8— Giacomo  da  Lentini 
introduced  the  doctrinal  element  into  poetry 
and  invented  the  sonnet.  9— Cielo  dal  Camo 
was  a  Neapolitan,  not  a  Sicilian :  a  plebeian, 
not  a  noble.  His  poem  was  not  an  imitation 
of  a  French  pastoral.  10 — In  content  the 
popular  Sicilian  poetry  is  free  from  French  and 
Provencal  influence. 

L.  EMIL  MENGER. 
Johns  Hopkins  University. 


CORRESPONDENCE. 


ROMANCE  WORK  A  T  PARIS  IN 
1893-96. 

To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS  : — Romance  studies  have  been  ex- 
tremely well  cultivated  this  year  at  the  various 
schools  in  Paris.  The  subjects  treated  were  of 
the  highest  importance,  and,  for  the  most  part, 
not  at  all  elementary;  not  one  course  given  in 
former  years  was  abandoned,  while  one  chair 
that  had  been  vacant  since  '88  was  filled  during 
the  first  semester.  Pretty  nearly  all  the  schools 
offered  some  work  useful  to  the  Romance 
student.  At  the  Ecole  des  Chartes,  M.  Le'on 
Gautier  lectured  and  conducted  practical  ex- 
ercises on  Paleography,  and  M.  Paul  Meyer 
lectured  on  Romance  Philology.  At  the  Sor- 
bonne,  M.  Brunot  and  M,  Thomas  both  had 
the  same  subject ;  once  a  week  they  lectured 
on  French  Phonetics  and  once  a  week  also 
they  explained  Old-French  texts.  At  the 
College  de  France,  M.  Morel-Fatio,  substitute 
of  M.  Paul  Meyer,  explained  Old  SpanisTi,  and 
M.  Gaston  Paris,  now  its  administrator,  could 
be  heard  twice  weekly.  At  the  Ecole  des 
Hautes  Etudes,  M.  Morel-Fatio  held  his  semi- 
nar on  the  "  Libro  de  Alexandre."  M.  Gillie'- 
ron  lectured  on  the  French  dialects,  M.  Thomas 
treated  Vulgar  Latin,  and  finally,  M.  Gaston 
Paris  continued  his  seminar  on  Romance 
Lexicology,  begun  some  three  years  ago. 

But  that  one  may  the  better  compare  the 
work  done  here  with  what  is  offered  in  Ro- 
mance Philology  at  some  of  our  American 
colleges,  and  chiefly  that  those  students  who 
intend  to  spend  next  year  in  Paris  may  know 
beforehand  what  they  are  likely  to  get,  some 
of  the  courses  mentioned  call  for  a  more  de- 


443          November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7.          444 


tailed  description.  And  first  of  all  I  will  speak 
of  the  course  offered  by  M.  Paul  Meyer,  be- 
cause every  one  expects  to  find  that  great 
savant  at  work  with  his  pupils  on  questions  of 
the  highest  order,  but  only  to  be  disappointed. 
That  this  is  the  fact  is  the  fault  neither  of  M. 
Meyer,  nor  of  his  students,  but  of  the  character 
of  the  work  to  be  accomplished.  The  students 
are  all  beginners,  and  beginners  not  only  in 
philology  but  as  to  any  kind  of  advanced  work; 
they  are  the  first  year  pupils  of  the  Ecole  des 
Chartes,  whose  immediate  aim  is  not  to  be- 
come Romance  scholars,  but,  after  a  three 
years'  curriculum,  "archivistes-pale'ographes." 
Of  course  a  scholar  like  Paul  Meyer  could  not 
give  even  elementary  lectures  without  letting 
fall,  here  and  there,  something  similar  to 
what  he  gives  his  readers  in  the  Romania, 
chance  remarks  that  contain  a  world  of  learn- 
ing and  clear-sighted  criticism.  From  the  be- 
ginning of  the  first  semester  up  to  the  end  of 
December,  his  lectures  treated  of  the  external 
history  of  the  Romance  languages,  with  par- 
ticular attention  to  French  and  Provencal. 
French  and  Provencal  phonetics  were  taken 
up  next,  and  from  the  first  part  of  February 
were  abandoned  once  a  week  in  order  to  take 
up  the  morphology  of  the  two  tongues.  The 
lectures  will  be  continued  in  this  order  until 
the  end  of  the  year. 

The  lectures  on  Vulgar  Latin  formerly  given 
by  Ars6ne  Darmesteter,  and  since  the  un- 
timely death  of  that  scholar  given  now  for  the 
first  time  (in  addition  to  Phonetics)  by  M.  An- 
toine  Thomas,  would  satisfy  the  most  exacting 
students ;  his  work  in  the  latter  subject  is, 
from  a  purely  philological  point  of  view, 
superior  to  that  of  M.  Brunot;  and  also,  in 
matter  of  detail,  superior  to  that  of  M.  Meyer, 
for  the  reason  stated  above.  M.  Alfred  Morel- 
Fatio,  in  his  Old-Spanish  course,  explains  the 
Dialogo  de  la  Lengua  of  Juan  Valde"s ;  Boh- 
mer's  edition  is  used,  but  if  everything  of  im- 
portance or  interest  said  by  M.  M.-F.  were 
added  to  the  book,  its  size  would  become  por- 
tentous. To  his  seminar,  where  the  "  Libro 
de  Alexandre  "  is  discussed,  none  but  those 
who  are  well  advanced  in  Spanish  are  ad- 
mitted. M.  Gillie'ron,  in  his  course,  gives  a 
splendid  "apergu  "  not  only  of  the  geographi- 
cal boundaries — as  far  as  these  may  be  deter- 


mined— but  also  of  the  destinctive  character- 
istics of  the  French  dialects,  ancient  and 
modern ;  it  cannot  be  too  warmly  recom- 
mended to  the  young  foreigner.  Besides 
these,  there  are  a  number  of  courses  given 
that  are  also  of  benefit,  though  indirectly  so, 
to  the  Romance  student,  especially  those  of 
M.  Passy  on  the  "General  Principles  of  Pho- 
netics; "  those  of  M.  Longnon,  both  at  the 
College  de  France  and  at  the  Ecole  des  Hautes 
Etudes,  on  the  "  Names  of  Places  in  France 
during  the  Early  Part  of  the  Middle  Ages." 
The  lectures  given  by  M.  Giry  on  Mediaeval 
History  are  also  very  useful,  on  account  of 
their  great  minuteness. — For  excellent  and 
extremely  beautiful  French,  no  course  of  lec- 
tures given  in  Paris  is  of  greater  benefit  to  the 
foreign  student  than  that  given  by  M.  Morel- 
Fatio  at  the  College  de  France,  on  the  "  Court 
Life  in  Italy  and  Spain  as  drawn  from  Litera- 
ture." As  may  be  seen,  the  subject  itself  is 
not  entirely  without  interest  to  the  student  in 
Romance  fields. 

There  still  remain  the  courses  offered  by  M. 
Gaston  Paris.  His  lectures  on  the  "  Cycle  de 
Guillaume  d'Orange  "  began  this  year  where 
they  had  left  off  in  1895,  namely  with  the 
"Moniage  Guillaume,"  going  through  that, 
the  "  Enfances  Guillaume,"  and  also  the 
"  Prise  d'Orange."  Not  only  were  the  lectures 
of  the  highest  interest,  full  of  unerring  criticism 
and  clear,  summary  classification  of  data ;  but 
the  results  obtained  differed  entirely  from 
those  arrived  at  by  Bekker,  Jonckbloet.Cloetta, 
etc.  His  other  course  at  the  College  de 
France,  on  the  "  Chanson  d'Aliscans,"  hardly 
needs  any  comment,  every  body  knows  what 
his  text  criticism,  his  philological  and  literary 
comments,  are  like.  The  editions  used  were 
those  of  Guessard  and  Montaiglon,  and  Rolin; 
but  though  the  former  was  the  one  decidedly 
preferred,  neither  coincided  exactly  with 
the  text  given  by  M.  Paris.  Instead  of  con- 
tinuing these  two  courses  (that  is,  for  the  for- 
mer, the  "Couronnement  Louis, "the  "Charroi 
de  Nimes,"  the  great  cycle  of  "Vivien,"  the 
"  Aliscans,"  etc.,  and  for  the  latter  the  critical 
study  of  the  Aliscans),  during  the  second 
semester  M.  Paris  will  take  up  Old-French 
Grammar.  His  hearers  will  get  a  foretaste  of 
the  long  promised  and  eagerly  awaited  "Gram- 


222 


445          November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  7. 


446 


maire  sommaire  cle  1'ancien  fran^ais." 

The  course  in  Lexicology  is  of  incalculable 
benefit  to  students  even  the  most  advanced. 
Romance  words  of  great  importance  that  so 
often  go  unnoticed,  opinions  that  are  seldom 
consulted,  or  too  unhesitatingly  adopted,  are 
all  unearthed,  all  examined;  and  the  wealth 
of  ideas,  the  acquaintance  with  authors,  philo- 
logists and  historians,  past  and  present,  that 
is  acquired !  Really,  no  one  who  comes  to 
Paris  for  the  purpose  of  studying  Romance 
philology  should  miss  this  seminar.  Some  old 
monument  is  taken,  this  year  the  "Reichenauer 
Glossen  ;  "  the  "  Latin  "  words  as  well  as  the 
glosses  are  taken  up  in  alphabetic  order,  and 
their  development,  history  and  fate  in  all  or 
any  of  the  Romance  languages  is  carefully  ex- 
amined. The  course  is  so  arranged  that  each 
student  in  his  turn  has  some  ten  or  twelve 
words  to  prepare  and  submit  to  the  criticism 
of  the  professor  and  the  whole  class.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  work,  the  students  are  as- 
signed, one  to  each  successive  date  through- 
out the  year,  to  prepare  and  read  the  procts- 
verbal  of  the  preceding  meeting.  M.  Paris 
has  still  another  seminar,  Sunday  mornings, 
where  the  language  of  Joinville  is  discussed 
and  explained,  but  none  but  those  able  to  do 
original  work  of  some  importance  are  ad- 
mitted.— But  besides  all  this,  there  is  one 
thing  in  particular,  not  mentioned  on  the 
printed  programs,  which  not  a  single  student 
fails  to  carry  away  from  the  courses  of  this 
sage  of  sages,  and  that  is  the  influence  of  the 
professor's  own  personality.  Behind  those  im- 
mobile and  seemingly  impassive  yet  attractive 
features,  any  one  endowed  with  some  knowl- 
edge of  human  character  recognizes  easily 
the  eye  that  regards  and  sees  all,  the  mind 
and  the  heart  that  judges  every  man,  every 
action.  With  what  emotion  in  his  voice  did 
he  speak  to  me  of  young  Boser,  one  of  his 
best  pupils  (cf.  "La  Somme  le  roi,"  Rom. 
xxiii),  so  soon  carried  away  from  this  world 
of  ours,  "  this  great  altar  of  sacrifices."  And 
with  what  fervor  is  Professor  Paris  spoken  of 
by  all  those  whose  fortune  it  is  to  know  him 
somewhat  intimately.  Quite  aside  from  all 
that  he  has  done  to  raise  Romance  Philology 
to  an  established  science,  quite  aside  from  all 
this,  he,  too,  is  among  "those — few,  alas! — 
who  love  their  fellowmen,"  and  how  appro- 
priate is  it  to  the  memory  of  Pasteur,  that  it  is 
Gaston  Paris  who  is  predestined  to  take  his 
place  at  the  "Academic". 

What  is  done  privately  in  the  Romance  field 
can  of  course  not  be  known  to  any  great  ex- 
tent ;  or,  at  any  rate,  what  is  known  here  is 
almost  equally  no  news  in  America.  Prof.  E. 
W.  Manning  has  spent  a  good  part  of  the 


year  at  Paris  On  the  MSS.  in  the  Bibliotheque 
Nationale  and  the  Arsenal,  and  will  take  with 
him  to  America,  besides  numerous  selections 
and  annotations,  a  photographic  copy  of  about 
twenty  pages  of'Aucas.sin  et  Nicolette."  It 
may  be  mentioned  in  passing  that  an  article 
by  him  on  one  of  the  Goethe  relics  will  be 
published  in  a  'month  or  so  in  the  Goethe 
Jahrbuch.  Another  bit  of  news  that  will  be 
pleasantly  received  in  America  is  that  Madame 
Darmesteter  is  translating  into  English  the 
excellent  Old-French  grammar  ('Cours  de 
grammaire  historique  de  la  langue  francaise') 
left  unfinished  by  her  husband, .but  published 
under  the  care  of  MM.  Muret  and  Sudre. 
This  book  will  appear  shortly  from  the  press 
of  Macmillan,  and  will,  I  think,  fill  a  long-felt 
want  of  the  English  speaking  student. 

WM.  MILWITZKY. 
Cerisy-la-Salle  (Afauc/it). 


IMMERMANN'S  "MERLIN." 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS: — VVill  you  permit  me  to  forestall  the 
condemnation  which  is  wailing  for  me  at  the 
hand  of  some  future  critic  by  making  public 
confession  of  a  bad  slip  committed  in  my  re- 
cently published  Social  Forces  in  German 
Literature?  In  a  brief  notice  of  Imrner- 
mann's  Merlin  (p.  511)  I  speak  of  the  hero 
of  this  drama  as  "that  mysterious  son  of  Satan 
and  the  Holy  Virgin  who,"  etc.  Lest  this 
sentence  arouse  what  would  be  a  very  natural 
suspicion,  that  I  had  here  confounded  the 
Candida  of  the  Merlin  tragedy  with  the  Virgin 
Mary,  I  wish  to  say  that  my  mistake  con- 
sisted in  not  rendering  the  German  expression 
"heilige  Jungfrau,"  which  was  in  my  mind,  by 
"  saintly  virgin  "  instead  of  "  holy  virgin  " — a 
mistake  which  was  subsequently  aggravated 
by  the  printer's  capitalizing  both  words. 

Let  me  add  that  Immermann's  Merlin  de- 
serves a  much  fuller  consideration  than  that 
which  I  could  give  it  in  my  book.  The  scene 
where  Satan  obtains  power  over  Candida  is  a 
piece  of  wonderful  poetry,  combining  the  fan- 
tastic fervor  of  Calderon's  Magico  Prodi- 
gioso  with  the  profound  thought  of  Goethe's 
Prolog  im  Himmel. 

KUNO  FRANCKE. 
Han'ard  University. 


BRIEF  MENTION. 

The  next  meeting  of  the  Central  Division  of 
the  Modern  Language  Association  of  America 
will  occur  between  Christmas  and  New  Year 
at  St.  Louis,  Mo.  Those  wishing  to  read 
papers  are  requested  to  address  Professor  G. 
Karsten,  Bloomington,  Ind.,  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible? Membership  is  open  to  all  interested  in 
the  study  of  modern  languages.  Further  de- 
tails will  be  announced  later. 


223 


447          November,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     fat.  xi,  No.  7. 


448 


JOURNAL  NOTICES. 

ARKIV  FOER  NORDISK  FILOLOGI.  NEW  SERIES. 
VOL.  VII,  PART  3  :— Schueck,  llenrik,  SmBrre  bidrag 
till  nordisk  lit.teraturhistoria,  1-iii.— Kock,  Axel,  Forn- 
nordisk  sprakforskning,  i-iv.— BJoerkman,  Erik,  Till 
vHxlingen/n:  mn  i  fornsvftnskan. -Kable,  B.,  Noch 
elnmal  der  heiname  skald.— Mogk,  E.,  Anmalan  av 
"Finnur  Jonson,  Den  oldnorske  og  oldislandske  lit- 
teraturshistorie.  FOrste  bind."— Llnd,  E.  H.,  Biblio- 
grafl  fo'r  ar  1894.— Kristensen,  Marlus,  En  bemaerk- 
ning  om  dentaler  og  supradentaler  i  oldnorsk-islan  dsk. 

ZEITSCHRIFT  FUER  ROMANISCHE  PHILOLOGIE. 
herausgegeben  von  Dr.  Gustav  Grober.  XIX.  BAND 
(195),  HEFTE  3-4.— Contents:  Mcyer-Luebke,  W.f 
Zur  Syntax  desSubstantivums.— Balst,  G.,  Arthur  und 
der  Graal.— Braune,  Th.,  Neue  BeitrSge  zur  Kennt- 
nis  Einiger  Romanischen  Worter  Deutschcr  Herkunf  t. 
— Suchler,  H.,  Der  Musikalische  Vortrag  der  Chan- 
sons de  Geste.—  Frlesland,  C.,  Die  Quelle  zu  Rutebeufs 
Leben  der  Heiligen  Elisabeth.— Rudow,  W.,  Neue  Bei- 
tiSge  zu  TUrkischen  Lehnwo'rtern  im  RumBnischen. 
— Ulrlch,  J.,  Fiore  di  Virtu.— Settegast,  F.,  Enme  (enma) 
in  der  Altfranz.  Stephansepistel.— Cohii,  G.,  Mauvais. 
—Ulrlch,  J.,  Die  -a-  lose  Form  der  I.  plur.  im  Altober- 
engadinischen,  bezw.  Provenzalischen  und  Norman- 
nischen.— Zeitschriften.— Meyer-Luebke,  W.,  Zur  Syn- 
tax des  Substantivums.— Michaclls  de  Vascon  cellos, 
Carolina,  Zum  Liederbuch  des  K6nigs  Denis  von  Por- 
tugal.—Becker,  Ph.  Au§ .,  NachtrBge  zu  Jean  Lemaire. 
— Tobler,  A.,  Vermischte  BeitrSge  zur  Franzosischen 
Grammatik,  3.  Reihe,  No.  6-9.—  Meyer-Luebke,  W., 
Etymologien.— Ulrlch,  J.,  Etymologien.— Schuchardt, 
H.,  Mauvais.— Lang,  H.,  Liederbuch  des  Kfinigs  Denis 
(rec.  C.  Michaelis  de  Vasconcellos).— Schulze,  A.,  Re- 
gister. 

ROMANIA:  RECUEIL  TRIMESTRIEL  CONSACRE  A 
L'ETUDE  DES  LANGUES  ET  DES  LITTERATURES 

ROMANES,  public  par  Paul  Meyer  et  Gaston  Paris. 
TOME  XXIV  (I  9  5),  NOS.  95-96  Contents  :— Lot,  F., 
Celtica. — Thomas,  A., Les  Noms  Composes  et  la  Deriva- 
tion en  Francais  et  en  Provencal.— Meyer,  P.,  La  De- 
scente  de  Saint  Paul  en  Enfer,  Poeme  Fran^ais  Com- 
pose en  Angleterre.— Toynbee,  P.,  Dante's  References 
to  Pythagoras.— Toynbee,  P.,  Dante's  Obligations  to 
Orosius. — Toynbee,  P.,  Some  Unacknowledged  Obliga- 
tions of  Dante  to  Albertus  Magnus.— Toynbee,  P., 
Dante's  Obligations  to  Alf  niganus  in  the  Vita  Nuova 
and  Convivio. — Miissulla,  A.,  Francese  vale,  valt,  valent ; 
gals,  fait;  chielt,  chalt.—  Langlois,  E.,  Interpolations  du 
Jeu  de  Robin  et  Marion.— Riiynaud,  G.,  Le  Dit  du  Cheval 
a  Vendre,  Public  d'Apres  un  Ms.  du  Chateau  de  Chantil- 
ly.— Abhandlungen  Herrn  Prof.  Dr.  Adolf  Tobler  .  .  . 
von  Dankbaren  Schlllern  in  Ehrerbietung  Darge- 
bracht  (c.r.  G.  Paris).—  Gorra,  E.,  Delle  Origini  della 
Poesia  Lirica  del  Medio  Evo  (c.r.  A.  Jeanroy). — 
Springer,  H.,  Das  Altprovenzalische  Klagelied  (c.r. 
A.  Jeanroy).— Cesareo,  G.-A.,  La  Poesia  Sici  liana  Sotto 
gli  Suevi  (c.r.  A.  Jeanroy).—  Wechssler,  E.,  TJeber  die 
Verschiedenen  Redaktionen  des  Robert  von  Borron 
zugeschriebenen  Graal-Lancelot-Cyclus(c.r.G.  Paris). 
— Periodiques. —  Chronique. — Lot,  F.,  Etudes  sur  la 
Provenance  du  Cycle  Arthurien  (premier  article).— 
Meyer,  P.,  C  et  G  Suivis  d'-A  en  Provei^al ;  Etude  de 


G6ographie  Linguistique  (avec  carte).— Bonnardot,  Fr., 
A  qui  Jacques  de  Longuyon  a-t-il  dedie  le  poeme  des 
Vceux  du  Paon  —Thomas,  A.,  Etymologies  Francises: 
chevene ;  hasne ;  haqut ;  orpailleur  ;  Prov.  Mod.  routs.— 
Densusianu,  Or..  Fr.  baufan.— Xauta,  G.-A.,  La  Danse 
Macabre.—  Meyer,  P.,  La  Descente  de  Saint  Paul  en 
Enfer.— Morel-Fatlo,  A.,  Esp.  yogar.— Marchot,  P.,  Les 
Closes  de  Cassel.— Les  Gloses  de  Vienne  (c.r.G. Paris). 
— Vollmoeller  u.  Otto,  Kritischer  Jahresbericht  fiber 
die  Fortschritte  d.  Romanischen  Philolosfie  (c.r.  G. 
Paris).— Wlllcms,  L.,  Etude  sur  rYsengrinus  (c.r.  L. 
Sudre).—  Periodiques.—  Chrouique.—  Table  des  Ma- 
tieres. 

REVUE  HISPANIQUE:  RECUEIL  CONSACRE  A 
U'ETUDE  DES  LANGUES.  DES  LITTERATURES  ET 
DE  L'HlSTOIRE  DES  PAYS  CASTILLANS,  CATA- 
LANS ET  PORTUGAIS;  publiu  par  R.  Foulche-Del- 
bosc.  TOME  II  (1895).  Contents:  Cuervo,  K.  J.,  Dis- 
quisiciones  Sobre  Antigua  Ortograffa  y  Pronuncia- 
cifin  Castellanas.—  Foulche-Uelbosc,  R.,  Poesias  Inddi- 
tas  de  Don  Tomas  de  Yriarte.— Foulche-Delbosc,  R., 
Poesias  Ineditas  de  Don  Jose  Iglesias.—  Cotarelo,  E., 
Una  Obra  Desconocida  de  Don  Enrique  de  Villena.— 
Bibliographic.— Ormsby,  J.,  Lope  de  Vega  (J.  Fitz- 
maurice  Kelly).— Kayserling,  M.,  Mots  Espagnols  dans 
le  Schibbole  Hallek6t  (R.  Foulche-Delbosc).— Codornlu, 
C.,  Des  Origines  de  la  Langue  et  de  la  Literature 
Espagnoles  (R.Foulch^-Delbosc).— Valera,J.,La  Buena 
Fama(A.  Grandier). — Chronique.— Ltlte  de  Vasconcel- 
los, J.,  Remarques  sur  Quelques  Vestiges  des  Cas  La- 
tins en  Portugais.— Foulche-Delbosc,  R.,  Le  Sonnet  A 
Cristo  Cruciftcado.—  Puymalgro,  Le  Comte  de.  Un  Sa- 
vant Espagnol  du  xvie  Siecle:  Argote  de  Molina.— 
Bibliographie.-Bnrk,  U.  R.,  A  History  of  Spain  from 
the  Earliest  Times  to  the  Death  of  Ferdinand  the 
Catholic  (J.  Fitzmaurice-Kelly).— Pereda,  J.  M.  de,  Pe- 
ftas  Arriba  (H.  Peseux-Richard).— Galdos.  B.  P.,  Tor- 
quemada  y  San  Pedro  (H.  Peseux-Richard).— Peres,  R. 
1).,  Cantos  Modernos;  Norte  y  Sur,  Poema  Ciclico;  A 
Dos  Vientos;  Criticas  y  Semblanzas;  Literatura  Cas- 
tellana ;  Literatura  Catalana ;  Bocetos  Ingleses  (A. 
Grandier).— Maragall,  J.,  Poesies  (A.  Grandier).— Re- 
vista  Critica  de  Historia  y  Literatura  Espafiolas  (R. 
Foulchu-Delbosc).— Altamlra,  R.,  Eco  de  Madrid; 
Ejemplos  Practices  de  Conversacion  Castellana  (R. 
Foulchi-Delbosc). — Chronique. — Baist,  G.,  Parra  und 
Pare.— Foulche-Delbosc,  R.,Un  Point  Conteste  de  la  Vie 
de  Don  Diego  Hurtado  de  Mendoza  (I.  Les  Comptes 
d'ltalie.— II.  L'Incident  du  Palais.— Appendices:  A. 
Minutes  de  Commission  de  Provediteur  General. — B. 
Lettres  ficrites  par  Mendoza  en  1567. — C.  Pieces  Con- 
cernant  les  Comptes  d'ltalie.— D.  Acceptation  par 
Phillippe  II  de  1'Heritage  de  Mendoza).— Fitzmaurlce- 
Kelly,  J.,  The  Bibliography  of  the  Diana  Enamorada. 
—Foulche-Delbosc,  R.,  Proverbes  Judeo-Espagnols.— 
Watts,  H.  E.,  Don  Quixote  Done  into  English,  3d  ed.,  4 
vols.  (J.  Fitzmaurice-Kelly).— Watts,  H.  E.,  Miguel  de 
Cervantes,  his  Life  and  Works,  2d  ed.  (J.  Fitzmaurice- 
Kelly).— Morel-Fatlo.  A.,  Etudes  sur  1'Espagne,  Pre- 
miere Serie,  2e  ed.  (R.  Foulchfi-Delbosc).  —  Gross,  C., 
M.  Kayserling,  Christopher  Columbus  and  the  Parti- 
cipation of  the  Jews  in  the  Spanish  and  Portuguese 
Discoveries.  Trans.  (R.  Foulche-Delbosc).— Chroni- 
que. 


224 


MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES. 


Baltimore,  December,    181X5. 

RICHARDSON  AND  ROUSSEAU. 
AT  a  time  when  the  cosmopolitan  spirit  is, 
perhaps,  more  marked  than  ever  before  in 
literary  history,  it  is  peculiarly  interesting;  to 
study  its  beginnings  in  the  oldest,  and  for 
centuries,  the  most  independent  of  European 
literatures.  Up  to  the  eighteenth  century 
there  is  little  of  the  cosmopolitan  spirit 
anywhere.  The  Latin  literatures  do  indeed 
interpenetrate  one  another,  and  the  materials 
of  much  of  the  early  poetry  of  Germany  and 
England  can  be  traced  to  French  or  Italian 
sources.  It  was  natural  that  these  younger 
literatures  should  first  feel  the  influence  of  the 
older  and  maturer  ones  and  so  should  be  first 
to  illustrate  the  gain  and  also  the  loss  in  the 
crossing  of  races,  but  doubtless  the  Latin 
peoples  would  have  held  aloof  still  longer 
from  their  northern  sisters  had  it  not  been  for 
the  very  thing  that  was  meant  to  segregate 
them,  the  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes. 
For  this  measure  sent  into  exile,  and  chiefly  to 
England,  some  of  the  sturdiest  elements  of 
French  nationality,  and  those  who  had  been 
expelled  by  a  bodily  tyranny,  carrying  with 
them  a  chastening  rather  than  a  chastened 
patriotism,  returned  in  the  winged  words  of  a 
moral  and  aesthetic  revolution. 

One  of  the  phases  of  this  change,  the  in- 
fluence of  English  novelists  on  the  literature 
and  life  of  France  in  the  eighteenth  century 
and  our  own,  has  recently  been  made  the  sub- 
ject of  detailed  study  by  M.  Texte  in  his 
"  Rousseau  and  the  Origins  of  Literary  Cos- 
mopolitanism."1 From  the  documentary  evi- 
dences that  he  has  gathered,  it  is  no  longer 
difficult  to  see  how  the  mind  of  France  was 
prepared  to  receive  the  message  of  Richardson 
and  why  certain  qualities  in  his  work  impressed 
the  French  more  than  they  did  the  English 
and  more  than  did  the  fiction  of  his  contem- 
poraries, Fielding  and  Smollett,  who  with 
Sterne  and  Goldsmith  were  not  long  in  eclip- 
sing his  glory  at  home.  We  can  see  also  more 

i  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau  et  les  origines  du  cosmopolitisme 
litteraire,  e'tude  sur  les  relations  litt'raires  de  la  France  et  de 
1'Angleterre  au  xviii  siecle,  par  Joseph  Texte.  Paris,  1895. 


clearly  than  before  the  influence  of  Richardson 
on  his  French  contemporaries,  and  especially 
on  the  "  New  Helo'se  "  by  which  the  jealous 
Rousseau  first  won  universal  applause  and 
handed  down  the  spirit  of  Richardson  inter- 
penetrated with  his  own,  to  the  once  admired 
novels  of  Madame  de  Stael  and  the  still  quiv- 
ering romances  of  the  young  George  Sand. 
Nor  does  his  indirect  influence  end  even  here. 
It  has  been  fruitful  in  introducing  sometimes 
unconsciously  into  the  French  mind  that  help- 
ful principle  so  clearly  expressed  by  Renan 
that 

"  the  Gallic  race  to  produce  what  is  in  it,  needs 
to  be  fructified  by  the  Germanic.  Such  re- 
ciprocal intercourse"  he  continues  "is  the 
principle  of  our  modern  civilization,  the  cause 
of  its  superiority  and  the  best  guarantee  of  its 
permanence." 

Hence  the  peculiar  interest  that  must  always 
attach  to  its  first  manifestations  in  France. 

The  sixteenth  century  had  been  preeminently 
humanistic.  The  ideals  of  its  art  were  in  the 
classical  past  while  its  ethics  wavered  between 
Pagan  and  Christian  antiquity.  Under  these 
conditions  there  might  be,  probably  would  be, 
a  close  bond  between  the  representatives  of 
culture  in  France,  Germany  and  England,  but 
the  phases  of  that  culture  that  were  distinc- 
tively French,  German  or  English  would  affect 
foreign  thought  but  little.  There  could  be  no 
true  cosmopolitanism  until  the  national  char- 
acteristics of  each  race  had  become  marked 
in  its  work.  This  was  the  part  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  both  in  France  and  in  England. 
Then  at  the  opportune  moment  the  Edict  of 
Nantes  was  revoked  and  the  tide  of  French 
emigration  completed  the  circuit  for  the  al- 
ternating currents  of  culture. 

French  Huguenots  were  as  much  enemies  of 
humanism  as  of  Catholicism.  They  found  in 
England  a  kindred  spirit,  restless,  industrious, 
investigating,  protestant,  and  it  was  probably 
not  without  a  certain  malicious  pleasure  that 
they  set  about  transplanting  this  spirit  to 
France  under  the  more  or  less  honest  belief  that 
the  crossing  of  races  and  intellects  would 
improve  the  stock,  but  also  as  the  most  subtle 
and  efficient  answer  in  their  power  to  the 
brutum  fulmen  of  the  dragonnades. 


225 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.          452 


It  is  curious  to  trace  the  gradual  steps  in  the 
transformation  of  the  feeling  of  cultured 
France  toward  England  during  the  next  fifty 
years.  Late  in  the  seventeenth  century  the 
English  appeared  to  Madame  de  Motteville  as 
"  savage  barbarians  "  and  to  M.  de  Saumaise 
as  "  more  savage  than  their  dogs,"  and  there 
is  no  lack  of  evidence  that  the  English  returned 
these  appreciations  in  their  usual  blunt  kind. 
But  before  Voltaire  had  published  his  English 
Letters  in  1735,  sober  men  were  already  ac- 
cusing the  French  of  Anglomania,  and  that 
book  did  but  accelerate  a  current  made  up  of 
an  aggregation  of  individually  insignificant 
writers,  who  industriously  preached  the  sweet 
simplicity  of  sensational  philosophy  and  the 
praise  of  the  English  constitution.  The  press 
labors  under  the  mass  of  their  translations, 
the  literary  journalism  of  Holland,  that  curious 
sign  of  the  times,  teems  with  their  reviews  and 
the  Huguenot  colony  ventures,  now  and  then, 
on  independent  production  also. 

Political  conditions  favored  the  movement. 
The  peaceful  dignity  that  followed  the  victories 
of  Marlborough  could  not  but  impress  the 
imagination  of  those  whose  eyes  were  pained 
by  the  too  obvious  decay  of  their  own  mon- 
archy under  its  child-king  and  profligate  re- 
gent. Into  the  nidus  of  this  disorganization 
Free-Masonry  came  from  England  to  nestle 
and  grow,  almost  immediately,  into  the  centre 
of  a  far-reaching  philosophical  and  political 
propagandism.  English  science,  too,  began 
to  attract  the  admiration  that  it  richly  de- 
served. The  more  frequent  French  travelers 
made  the  meetings  of  the  Royal  Society  and 
the  homes  of  English  philosophers  the  objects 
of  admiring  pilgrimage,  until  at  last  Muralt 
in  his  English  Letters,  published  possibly 
as  early  as  1724,  though  himself  half  French 
and  half  German,  tells  his  Swiss  compatriots 
that  the  English  mind  is  superior  to  that  of 
4heir  cousins  of  France. 

The  tension  of  literary  curiosity  is  witnessed 
by  the  translation  of  almost  all  the  contem- 
porary English  works  that  we  now  regard  as 
classic.  One  may  mention  as  the  product  of  a 
single  year,  1714,  Addison's  Cato  and  The 
Spectator,  and  Pope's  Essay  on  Criticism. 
Robinson  Crusoe  was  translated  in  1720,  the 
Tale  of  a  Tub  in  1721  and  Gulliver  in  1727. 


In  return  for  these,  that  there  might  be  an 
equal  feast,  Motteux  was  revealing  the  healthy 
naturalism  of  Rabelais  to  the  English.  Thus 
the  ground  was  both  plowed  and  harrowed 
when  the  ex-abbe"  PreVost,  the  most  popular 
novelist  of  France,  yielded  of  his  own  accord 
the  palm  to  Richardson,  and  abandoned  orig- 
inal composition  to  tranlsate  the  works  of 
his  contemporary  for  the  gratification  of  the 
insatiate  sentimentality  of  his  countrywomen 
and  not  a  few  of  his  countrymen. 

To  realize  that  sentimentality  one  need  only 
consider  the  novels  of  the  translator  himself, 
and  especially  Manon  Lescaut,  which  in  mod- 
ern eyes  would  probably  outrank  any  of 
Richardson's.  Personally  PreVost  was  very 
"  far  from  a  worthy  man,  but  his  name  and  fame 
drew  an  attention  to  Richardson  that  was 
accorded  to  no  other  English  writer,  though  it 
might  be  hard  to  find  a  stranger  constrast  than 
that  between  the  tea-and-toast  English  book- 
seller and  the  clerical  French  Bohemian.  Pre"- 
vost  had  been  twice  in  England  and  twice 
segregated  from  his  countrymen  there  by  his 
lax  living.  Thus  he  was  brought  into  closer 
contact  with  English  life  and  ways  than  any  of 
his  fellows,  while  the  necessities  of  his  position 
compelled  him  to  seek  a  livelihood  from  trans- 
lations that  gave  him  a  control  of  the  language 
unsurpassed  in  depth  and  subtlety  in  his  day. 
So  he  gradually  acquired  a  cosmopolitan 
taste  and  style,  and  most  of  his  own  novels 
are  not  only,  exotic  in  their  scenes  but  in  their 
ethics. 

His  admiration  for  England  was  more  con- 
tagious than  discriminating.  Hamlet  might 
seem  to  him  a  "strange  rhapsody  "  and  the 
Tempest  a  "  ridiculous  piece  "  but  he  admired 
Otway,  Dryden  and  Congreve.  The  demo- 
cratic mingling  of  classes  made  the  English 
coffee-houses  appear  to  him  "thrones  of  lib- 
erty." "Oh!  happy  isle,"  he  exclaims  and 
goes  off  in  a  page  of  dithyrambics  to  this 
home  of  blissful  hyperboreans.  He  finds  food 
for  admiration  even  in  the  prize-ring,  "a 
school  where  youth  is  trained  to  fearlessness, 
to  the  contempt  of  death  and  wounds,"  though 
not,  it  would  seem,  to  the  contempt  of 
Tunbridge  Wells,  at  whose  rather  promiscuous 
balls,£'rz.y^//.^yelbowed  duchesses.  For,  writes 
the  ex-abbe", 


226 


453          December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


454 


"  if  this  charming  place  had  existed  at  the  time 
of  the  ancients  they  would  not  have  said  that 
Venus  and  the  Graces  made  their  abode  at 
Cytherea." 

His  readers,  however,  shared  his  catholicity  of 
taste,  and  he  tells  us  himself  with  some  com- 
placency,that  his  novels  contributed  essentially 
to  shake  the  confident  pride  of  France  in  its 
fancied  social  and  intellectual  hegemony,  while 
fostering  also, though  timidly, an  admiration  for 
the  "state  of  nature, "£  la  Rousseau,  and  for 
that  "  natural  religion  "  that  skims  the  deepen- 
ing blue  of  its  faith  till  little  remains  but  the 
deism  of  a  Savoyard  Vicar.  It  is  clear,  how- 
ever, that  Prevost  marks  a  decided  advance  on 
Marivaux  in  fixing  the  character  and  develop- 
ing the  resources  of  romantic  fiction. 

While  he  was  thus  occupied  in  commending 
England  to  his  readers  by  example  in  his 
novels,  and  by  precept  in  his  critical  review, 
Voltaire's  English  Letters  came, in  1735,  to  turn 
his  lukewarm  converts  into  enthusiasts  ;  for 
that  shrewd  man  had  masked  his  attack  on 
religion,  for  which  the  time  was  not  ripe,  by 
insinuating  in  his  glowing  eulogy  of  England 
and  English  philosophy,  a  skepticism  which 
indeed  had  been  anticipated,  and  even  ex- 
ceeded, by  the  frank  Bayle,  whose  bread  cast 
on  the  waters  now  returned,  not  with  increase, 
but  like  rich  wine  more  palatable  for  its  age. 
Provost  probably  had  no  such  arriere  pensee. 
It  was  doubtless  only  a  generous  literary 
impulse  that  led  him,  on  the  appearance  of 
Pamela,  to  devote  the  rest  of  his  life  to  estab- 
lishing his  rival's  fame,  a  magnanimity  almost 
unique  among  the  "  curiosities  of  literature." 
What  was  it  that  attracted  PreVost,  and  with 
him  all  France  and  Germany,  to  novels  that 
we  are  fain  to  read  now,  if  we  read  them  at 
all,  in  heroic  condensations,  while  most  of  us 
still  delight  in  Tom  Jones  and  some  of  us  still 
enjoy  Roderick  Random  ?  And  then,  what 
made  the  Paris  of  1750  cast  itself  with  delight 
into  the  vortex  of  Richardson,  while  it  raised 
its  eyebrows  at  Fielding  and  viewed  Smollett 
with  alarm  ?  Nothing  in  the  life  of  Richardson, 
that  dumpy,  dapper,  delicate,  rosy,  prim, 
precise,  vain  and  rather  effeminate  tradesman, 
will  explain  the  phenomenon.  He  was  past 
fifty  when  he  set  out  with  the  praiseworthy, 
though  somewhat  philistine,  intention  of  writ- 


ing "a  little  volume  of  letters  in  common  style 
on  such  subjects  as  might  be  of  use  to  those 
country  readers  who  were  unable  to  indite  for 
themselves,"  when  suddenly  he  found  him- 
self a  famous  novelist  and  the  author  of  Virtue 
Rewarded.  Such  at  least  is  the  legend  of 
Pamela,  though  probably  Richardson  knew 
not  only  what  he  was  trying  to  do  but  also 
that  Marivaux,  who  was  then  highly  esteemed 
in  England,  had  attempted  something  very 
like  it,  though  he  had  dealt  by  preference  with 
the  aristocratic  salons,  of  which  till  then 
Richardson  had  had  but  little  experience, and  in 
dealing  with  which  he  was  never  success- 
ful. He  was  shrewd  enough  to  know  his 
limitations,  and  could  by  no  means  be  induced 
to  leave  the  path  he  had  come  upon  so  happily. 
Therefore,  though  Clarissa  is  no  doubt  his 
best  work,  its  qualities  are  so  essentially  those 
of  Pamela  and  Grandison,  that  it  will  not  be 
misleading  to  speak  of  them  together. 

All  of  them  are  novels  of  contemporary 
society,  attempts  to  mirror  the  life  of  the 
squirarchy  and  the  bourgeoisie  under  the 
normal  conditions  of  everyday  English  life. 
They  are  thoroughly  realistic.  Clarissa  has 
pages  as  sordid  as  any  of  L'Assommoir,  as 
crass  as  any  of  Fielding  or  Smollett,  though 
without  the  former's  keen  wit  or  the  latter's 
rollicking  humor.  There  is  throughout  an 
interest  in  minute  detail  that  seems  prophetic 
of  the  palmy  days  of  the  "  human  document," 
though  Richardson  never  attains  the  archi- 
tectural massiveness  of  Zola.  He  is  quite  too 
apt,  as  Walpole  said,  "to  drown  himself  in  a 
tea-spoon  for  eagerness  to  get  to  the  bottom." 
Keats  remarked  his  unique  "power  of  mak- 
ing mountains  out  of  molehills"  and  Leslie 
Stephens  saw  in  him  a  type  of  "  our  common 
English  clumsiness."  His  eagerness  to  tell  it 
all,  when  he  has  very  little  to  tell  save  thoughts 
and  hopes  and  fears,  results  in  a  "  naturalism  " 
as  realistic,  but  also  as  wearisome,  as  the  gossip 
of  a  country  village  or  even  of  a  German 
Kaffee-klatsch.  Like  coral  polyps  he  is  ever 
laboriously  accumulating  huge  masses  of  the 
individually  insignificant.  His  very  method 
of  self-revelation  by  letters  helped  to  make 
him  fall  on  the  side  to  which  he  inclined, 
though  in  artistic  hands,  this  is  perhaps  best 
suited  of  all  novelistic  processes  to  delicate 
psychic  analysis. 


227 


455 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.          456 


Here  is  Richardson's  strength.  He  sees  his 
characters  more  clearly  and  presents  them 
more  soberly  than  Fielding.  His  psychology 
is  more  subtle  though  his  exposition  is  less 
brilliant.  No  male  character  of  this  novelistic 
generation  is  stronger  than  Lovelace,  whose 
canting  morgue  and  grossness  were  not  so 
much  typically  English  as  typical  of  the  time, 
with  their  counterpart  in  the  Valmont  of  the 
Liaisons  Dangereuses  and  their  belated  echoes 
in  Stendhal  and  Baudelaire.  Noteworthy,  too, 
as  companion  pieces  to  Squire  Western,  are  the 
stern,  choleric  and  coarse  Harlowes ;  but  in 
general  the  women  in  his  novels  are  more 
varied  in  their  characteristics  and  more  keenly 
analyzed  than  his  men,  as  was  perhaps  natural 
in  one,  whose  nature,  like  Rousseau's,  was  es- 
sentially feminine.  He  has  caught  admirably 
in  Clarissa,  and  hardly  less  so  in  Pamela,  the 
ingrained  Puritan  religious  sentiment,  that 
"steadiness  of  mind"  as  Clarissa  calls  it,  which 
French  readers  found  a  welcome  relief  from  the 
capriciousness  of  Marivaux"  Marianne  or  Pre*- 
vost's  Manon.  They  found  also  the  fascination 
of  novelty  in  the  truly  English  instinct  of  de- 
corum and  respectability,  and  their  own  Ca- 
tholicism was  too  languid  to  overcome  a  cur- 
ious interest  in  these  types  of  Protestant 
character  which  have  become  nearly  as  foreign 
to  us  as  they  were  to  them.  Today  his  narra- 
tives have  lost  their  interest,  but  French 
readers  of  1750  were  not  wrong  in  admiring  a 
talent  that  first  made  the  novel  capable  of 
carrying  ideas. 

For,  indeed,  there  is  in  all  Richardson's 
work  a  pervading  moral  seriousness  which  is 
not  cant  and  yet  suggests  it.  He  is  by  in- 
stinct a  homilist,  a  curate  of  souls.  His  hero- 
ines write  to  teach  us,  his  villains  to  warn  us 
by  their  examples.  He  hopes  to  persuade  a 
generation  of  virtuous  young  ladies  to  seek, 
like  Pamela,  their  happiness,  in  this  world  and 
in  the  next,  by  diligently  learning  "  the  mak- 
ing of  jellies,  comfits,  sweetmeats,  marma- 
lades, cordials,  and  to  pot  and  candy  and 
preserve,"  while  holding  themselves  dutifully 
in  readiness  for  an  hour's  "  agreeable  conver- 
sation "  with  their  husbands;  that  hedged  in 
their  prim  Puritanism,  like  Clarissa,  they  may 
"  never  look  upon  any  duty,  much  less  a  vol- 
untary one  with  indifference;"  that  like 


Harriet  they  may  be  rewarded  with  a  Grand- 
ison,  "good  upon  principle  in  every  relation 
of  life,"  a  man  who  carries  decorum  quite 
over  the  verge  of  parody,  "  beaming  with  joy 
at  having  practiced  all  his  virtues"  and  re- 
flecting his  smug  self-righteousness  in  a  social 
circle  so  wearisomely  correct  that  one  almost 
pines  for  Clarissa's  prison. 

But  behind  this  didactic  purpose  there  is  a 
new  ideal  of  womanhood,  not  without  its  no- 
bility, nor  without  novelty,  at  least  in  France. 
For  the  fiction  of  adventure  and  curiosity  he 
substituted  the  study  of  love  and  of  morals,  and 
because  he  was  first  to  do  this,  he  was,  as 
Goethe  said,  the  father  of  the  modern  novel 
throughout  Europe.  He  redeemed  from  al- 
most universal  contempt  a  genre  that  Voltaire 
had  not  unjustly  described  as  "the  product  of 
a  weak  mind  writing  with  facility  things  un- 
worthy to  be  read  by  serious  men."  With 
him  and  his  fellows  the  novel  became  "the 
epopee  of  the  modern  world."  And  among 
them  the  French  chose  him  for  their  peculiar 
model,  not  because  his  talent  was  greatest  but 
because  it  was  most  cosmopolitan. 

In  England  Richardson  soon  had  successful 
rivals  ;  not  so  on  the  Continent.  In  Germany 
the  enthusiasm  rose  rapidly  to  fever  heat. 
Klopstock  begs  to  be  attached  to  the  Danish 
embassy  in  London  that  he  may  be  within  the 
sphere  of  Richardson's  personality.  Madame 
Klopstock  writes  to  the  author  of  Clarissa 
that  "there  remains  for  him  only  to  tell  the 
story  of  an  angel."  PreVost  declares  that  no 
work  of  his  own  had  given  him  such  delight 
as  Clarissa,  and  certainly  no  work  of  his  own 
added  more  to  his  fame  in  France  than  his 
translations  of  Richardson.  D'Argenson  pro- 
claimed Grandison  "a  new  Christ,"  Mar- 
montel  thought  this  character  "  rare  and  mar- 
velous," and  the  whole  book  "  a  masterpiece 
of  the  sanest  philosophy."  Diderot  composed 
for  Richardson's  death  an  eloquent  and  dithy- 
rambic  eulogy  of  this  "  second  Homer" ; 
Rousseau  himself  did  not  scruple  to  call 
Clarissa  the  finest  novel  ever  written,  and 
even  before  this  Pamela  had  been  continued, 
copied,  dramatized  and  discussed  by  the  great- 
est French  critics  of  the  time.  In  vain  the 
saner  wits  parodied,  and  Voltaire,  grown  cau- 
tious, raised  a  warning  voice  against  what  he 


228 


457          December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


45* 


now  declared  to  be  a  "jumble  of  futilities." 
All  was  in  vain.  Only  Antony  could  conquer 
Antony  and,  even  so,  it  was  long  before 
Rousseau's  Hfloise  had  eclipsed  Richardson's 
Clarissa.  The  women  turned  thirstily,  the 
men  impatiently, from  the  dallying  of  Marivaux, 
and  the  sentimental  lubricity  of  Manon  Lescaut, 
as  they  had  already  done  from  the  picaresque 
naturalism  of  Gil  Bias,  to  this  surely  purer,  if 
not  greater  talent. 

For  Richardson's  ruling  ideas  accorded  with 
the  prevailing  tone  of  French  society  in  1750 
as  they  would  hardly  have  done  at  any  other 
period.  Cartesian  optimism,  joined  to  the 
newly  gained  liberties  in  thought  and  ethics  to 
produce  a  sort  of  sentimental  emotional  ex- 
pansion, which  might  be  opposed  to  their 
traditional  orthodoxy  but  not,  therefore,  to  the 
vague,  because  foreign,  religiosity  of  the  Eng- 
lishman. Indeed  they  soon  discovered  that 
this  temper  was  by  no  means  inconsistent 
with  the  sentimental  sensuality  that  they  had 
admired  in  Marivaux  and  PreVost.  Richardson 
had  sought,  as  he  says, 

"in  an  epoch  devoted  to  diversion  and 
pleasure,  to  slip  in  surreptitiously,  and  to 
examine  the  great  doctrines  of  Christianity 
under  the  worldly  mask  of  an  amusement." 

The  English,  with  Johnson  at  their  head, 
swallowed  devoutly  the  whole  bolus.  The 
French,  and  the  Continent  generally  dwelt 
with  delight  on  the  ingenious  iteration  with 
which  he  enforced  the  commonplaces  of  uni- 
versal ethics,  and  deftly  exchanged  the  reli- 
gious sympathy  of  Richardson  for  the  religious 
curiosity  of  Voltaire.  What  has  been  said  of 
Richardson  is  far  more  true  of  them,  that 
among  these  predecessors  of  the  Encyclopae- 
dists virtue  had  become  "an  investment  at 
compound  interest  whose  beneficiaries  were 
disposed  to  congratulate  themselves  on  the 
excellence  of  their  business  management," 
while  Rousseau's  effort  "  to  purify  by  Christian 
morals  the  lessons  of  philosophy  "  drifts  in 
the  New  Htloise  into  a  "  vague  lacrimosity  " 
in  which  the  edifying  yields  to  the  "  beautifully 
pathetic." 

The  lukewarmness  of  the  French  Catho- 
licity of  the  time  may  well  have  contributed 
to  Richardson's  success  there.  The  social 
leaders,  even  among  the  ladies  of  fashion,  had 


abandoned    their  confessors,    or    listened   to 
their  spiritual  directors   with   a   languid   con- 
descension.    But  that  exercise  is  said  to  have 
a  certain  fascination  and  here  was  a  Protestant 
confessor,  "a   Christian  casuist  in  fiction,"  as 
I  M.  Texte  says,   whose  characters  committed 
their  dubious  cases  to  paper  as  fully,  and  at 
least  as  frankly,  as   ever   French  readers  had 
been  wont  to  whisper  them,  and  treated  the 
i  ticklish    points    with    a    casuistic    minuteness 
worthy   of  a   Suarez  or  a   Molina.     Possibly 
this  very  suppression  of   the  confessional   in 
j  England    had   called   forth   the   introspective 
j  novel.     Its  lax  administration  certainly  left  a 
void  in  fashionable  French  society,  and  so  they 
i  welcomed    Richardson,    till     Rousseau     with 
!  artful    cynicism    outbade  his  model   by  the 
i  added  ragout  of  a  veiled  or  an  autobiograph- 
:  ical   confession,    an    effrontery  to   which   his 
!  naturally  jealous  disposition   was  stirred  by 
:  the  chorus  of  applause  that  had  hailed  Pamela 
and  Clarissa. 

The  extent  of  the  literary  evolution  that 
j  they  wrought  was  greater  than  would  have 
i  been  possible,  even  for  them,  if  the  people 
had  not  been  ready  and  waiting  for  the  new 
gospel.  Richardson's  moralizing  as  well  as 
his  love  of  detail  is  subjective,  individualistic, 
and  thus  in  direct  contradiction  to  the  French 
classical  tradition  which  is  objective  and  uni- 
versal. P>ut  the  earlier  eighteenth  century 
had  already  shown  signs  that  it  was  restive 
under  the  humanistic  teachings  of  Boileau  and 
the  School  of  1660.  It  had  shown  itself  ready 
to  coquet,  at  least,  if  not  quite  to  throw  itself 
into  the  arms  of  the  naturalism  of  the  Renais- 
sance, to  abandon  the  self-restraint  of  the  age 
of  Louis  XIV  for  the  eager  utterance  of  the 
age  of  Rabelais  and  Montaigne,  and  so  by 
substituting  the  "sweet  disorder"  of  inde- 
pendence for  strict  classical  rule  it  was  already 
preparing  the  way  for  the  license  and  even  for 
the  orgies  of  literary  Romanticism. 

But  Prevost  contributed  essentially  to  the 
influence  of  Richardson  by  his  judicious  ed- 
iting. After  a  custom  for  which  we  have  today, 
perhaps,  too  great  an  aversion,  he  pruned  his 
original  in  the  interest  of  what  he  thought 
"  good  taste,"  "  softening  the  relics  of  ancient 
British  grossness,"  and  "reducing  to  the 
usages  of  all  Europe  those  of  England  that 


229 


459 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.          460 


might  shock  other  nations."  Richardson  pro- 
tested, but  he  was  ungrateful.  No  author 
could  bear  the  process  better  than  he  who  had 
no  style  to  lose  and  no  taste  to  mar,  whose 
over-ballasted  craft  sailed  the  better  for  being 
lightened  of  a  third  of  its  crudity  and  moral- 
izing. The  emotional  ethics  and  general 
warmth  of  diffused  sentiment  that  remained, 
suited  precisely  the  delicate  stomachs  of  the 
Savoyard  Vicar's  generation,  who  were  moral- 
ists also,  after  their  kind,  and  as  willing  as  Dr. 
Johnson  to  take  Clarissa  for  their  "secular 
breviary,"  and  to  study  in  all  good  faith  that 
index  to  its  moral  maxims  that  Richardson 
had  so  thoughtfully  provided.  "We  may  be 
dupes  of  French  politics,"  wrote  Horace 
Walpole,  "  but  the  French  are  ten  times  sillier 
than  we  to  be  dupes  of  our  virtues." 

For  dupes  they  certainly  were.  It  was  not 
studious  travelers  who  had  persuaded  this 
generation  that  in  that  happy  Albion  one 
found  in  peculiar  measure  "  love  of  duty  and 
tender  respect  for  parents,"  that  nature  was 
"  more  energetic  and  fruitful  "  in  Essex  than 
in  Beauce,  that  "passions  were  grander  and 
more  tragic  "  in  London  than  in  Rome,  and 
"  the  English  village  girl  a  sort  of  celestial 
creature."  This  England  was  a  mirage,  made 
up  of  many  factors,  of  which  the  chief  were 
surely  the  novels  of  Richardson.  But  among 
those  who  shared  this  vision  was  one  whose 
erratic  genius  was  a  torch,  lighting  here,  de- 
stroying there,  and  enflaming  the  moral  world. 

That  man  was  Rousseau.  A  child  of  Prot- 
estant Geneva  he  sympathized  with  English 
ideals  before  he  knew  them,  though  Muralt's 
rosy  parallel  between  France  and  England  fell 
into  his  hands  just  in  time  to  leave  its  impress 
deep  in  the  New  Heloise,  an  impress  corrected 
by  the  melancholy  disillusions  of  his  own  visit 
nine  years  later.  At  least  we  find  no  hint  in 
his  correspondence  that  his  neighbors  at 
Wootton  in  Derbyshire  passed  "  English  morn- 
ings "  like  those  of  the  New  Heloise  "  gath- 
ered together  and  enjoying  in  silence  at  once 
the  bliss  of  being  united  and  the  charm  of 
meditation,"  a  vision  that  took  such  hold  on 
his  fancy  that  he  instructs  the  illustrator  of  his 
book  to  try  to  catch, if  he  can, their  "  immobility 
of  ecstasy."  It  is  not  likely  that  he  found 
there  either  those  wonderful  gardens  where 


art  assisted  nature  to  turn  natural  wildness 
into  a  nursery  of  sentimentality,  though  French 
gardeners  had  long  confessed  the  charm  of 
English  parks. 

Attracted  by  Muralt  and  jealous  of  Richard- 
son, Rousseau,  now  the  guest  of  Madame 
d'Epinay  and  an  aspirant  to  a  third  of 
the  affections  of  her  sister-in-law,  Madame 
d'Houdetot,  profited  by  the  prevailing  Anglo- 
mania to  turn  his  leisure  and  his  experience 
to  account  in  the  New  Heloise,  that  "  Mid- 
summer Night's  Dream  of  a  private  tutor" 
which  has  had  a  wider,  deeper,  and  more  pro- 
longed influence  on  the  minds  of  men  and 
women  than  any  other  work  of  fiction.  It  is, 
therefore,  at  once  just  and  important  to  draw 
tip  the  account  of  Rousseau's  original  con- 
tribution to  literature  and  of  his  debts  to 
various  predecessors. 

From  Richardson  he  took  the  epistolary 
form  and  the  tone  of  the  lay  confessional  to 
which  it  lent  itself  so  readily.  To  him  he 
owed  the  substitution  of  contemporary  bour- 
geois characters  for  the  romantic,  chivalrous 
or  burlesque  heroes  of  earlier  fiction,  and  it 
was  from  the  English,  though  not  from  Rich- 
ardson, that  he  drew  Milord  Edward,  that 

"great  soul  and  sublime  friend,  in  whose 
character  of  mingled  sentiment  and  sense, 
Rousseau  fancied  that  natural  severity  had  not 
changed  the  natural  humanity,  " 

a  phlegmatic  and  philosophic  prig,  yet  a  lover 
withal  and  an  admirer  of  the  fine  arts,  a  concep- 
tion compounded  of  his  readings  in  DeFoe, 
Pope,  Addison,  the  dramatists  and  especially 
Lillo's  Merchant  of  London;  for  Diderot, who 
was  still  his  friend,  had  commended  this  play  to 
him  with  great  enthusiasm,  and  Diderot  was  re- 
garded as  an  authority  on  England  probably 
because  he  was  the  most  extreme  of  the  en- 
cyclopaedists, to  whom  England  appeared  as  a 
sort  of  incubator  for  natural  philosophers. 

To  Richardson  Rousseau  owed  also  those 
prolix  digressions  on  alms-giving,  agriculture, 
on  education,  domestic  economy,  dueling  and 
music,  that  seem  a  fault  now  but  appeared  a 
virtue  to  a  generation  fond  of  eloquence  and 
of  long  sermons.  Here  in  following  Richard- 
son he  followed  the  taste  of  the  time  and  also 
the  bent  of  his  own  fancy.  Far  more  at- 
tractive today  are  two  other  elements  in  the 


230 


461  December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.          462 


New  Heloise  that  show  the  influence  of  .Eng- 
land, though  not  of  Richardson.  These  are  its 
lyric  melancholy  and  its  sympathy  with  nature. 
Of  the  latter  Richardson  had  probably  the 
minimum  that  is  possible  to  an  embodied 
spirit,  while  Rousseau  interpenetrates  nature 
with  character  and  character  with  environment 
in  the  spirit  of  true  lyric  idealism.  Here, 
however,  Thomson,  Gray  and  Collins  had 
preceded  him,  and  he  may  have  borrowed 
something  from  the  Swiss  pastoral  poet  Gess- 
ner  also,  whose  popularity  was  then  as  wide  and 
intense  as  his  poems  are  insipid  and  monoton- 
ous. Lyric  melancholy  was  natural  to  Rous- 
seau,but  he  was  aided  in  its  utterance  by  Gray 
and  Young.and  the  other  sources  of  Ossian, with 
whom  Rousseau  joined  to  swell  the  flood  of 
tears  that  reaches  its  highwater  mark  in 
Novalis,  in  Rene,  Adolphe  and  Ubermann. 
With  Richardson's  method,  with  his  own  "gift 
of  tears  "  and  lyric  love  of  nature  Rousseau  I 
transforms  the  novel  into  a  poem  by  which,  | 
says  M.  Texte.this  incomparable  artist  in  words 
"  renewed  the  very  language  to  its  depths." 

But  though  Rousseau  had  Clarissa  and 
possibly  Pamela  before  him  as  he  wrote,  he 
had  within  him  the  experiences  of  passion 
nursed  in  a  morbid  brain  till  they  had  become 
ever  present  realities.  He  might  go  to  Eng- 
land for  Milord  Edward.  He  went  to  him- 
self for  St.  Preux,  and  poured  into  Julie  and 
Claire  his  recollections  of  Mile,  de  Galley  and 
Mile,  de  Graffenried,  now  fanned  to  new  flame 
by  the  presence  of  Madame  d'Houdetot  and 
mingled  with  memories  of  Madame  de  Warens. 
And  then  to  raise  this  study  of  love  and 
friendship  to  the  dignity  that  had  exalted  the 
novel  in  England,  he  gave  to  the  whole  a 
central  purpose,  the  defence  of  the  home  and 
of  Christianity  against  the  sapping  infidelity 
of  this  age  &t philosophes  and  libertins.  Thus 
he  introduced  into  it  the  inconsistencies  of  his 
own  character,  and  produced  a  situation  and  a 
climax  false  to  normal  nature,  though  not 
without  parallels  in  his  day. 

But  whatever  of  his  experience  or  of  his 
controversies  he  might  put  into  the  New 
Helo'ise,  the  parallel  with  Clarissa  remained 
close  enough  to  provoke  comparison.  The 
heroines  were  alike  in  their  social  situation 
and  in  their  Protestantism.  Miss  Howe's  re- 


lations to  Hickman  are  essentially  those  of 
d'Orbe  and  Claire.  The  Harlowes  are  only 
a  little  more  crassly  Philistine  than  the  parents 
of  Julie.  Bomston  is  what  Morden  might 
aspire  to  become,  and  Wolmar  has  just  as 
much  of  Lovelace  as  befits  a  purely  intellect- 
ual libertine.  Of  course,  therfore,  critics  con- 
stantly compared  the  books,  but  the  verdict 
was  not  immediate  nor  unanimous.  This  may 
seem  strange  to  a  generation  to  whom  Rich- 
ardson has  become  a  synonym  for  tediousness 
and  Rousseau  for  eloquent  intensity,  but  if  the 
novels  are  judged  by  their  moral  teaching, 
their  casuistic  keenness  or  their  psycholgical 
depth,  Richardson's  may  claim  at  least  the 
merit  of  priority.  What  has  gradually  won 
for  the  New  Helo'ise  its  unique  position,  is  its 
intensely  personal  and  lyric  tone  to  which  it 
educated  a  generation  of  admirers.  By  these 
artistic  elements,  Rousseau  was  able  to  give 
relative  permanence  to  the  radical  break  with 
the  objective  traditions  of  the  classical  school. 
A  mere  imitation  of  Richardson,  or  a  school 
of  imitators,  would  have  produced  only  an 
eddy  in  the  evolution  of  French  fiction.  But 
by  grafting  this  foreign  shoot  on  a  French 
stock.by  vivifying  it  with  French  sap,  Rousseau 
broke  at  last  the  prestige  of  classical  tradition. 
The  New  Heloise  is  the  first  fruit  of  cosmo- 
politanism in  France,  the  herald  of  the  Ro- 
mantic School. 

But  for  this  very  reason  the  book  was  not  at 
first  understood  in  England  nor  appreciated 
in  France.  Gray  thought  it  "  more  absurd 
and  improbable  than  Amadis  of  Gaul,"  and 
a  striking  prdof  of  how  far  such  an  extra- 
ordinary man  as  Rousseau  "could  be  wholly 
mistaken  as  to  his  talents."  Naturally,  there- 
fore, the  French  Anglomaniacs  assumed  a 
supercilious  air.  Grimm  pronounced  the  New 
Heloise  "  a  bad  copy,"  the  Duchess  of  Lauzun 
found  "a  thousand  times  more  delight  in 
Clarissa  than  in  Julie."  Some  blamed  Rous- 
seau's artificiality,  others,  like  Ballanche,  with 
catholic  pathos,  "  wept  equally  over  both,  " 
and  this  was  the  general  attitude  in  France  for 
some  years  during  which  Anglomania  was 
nursed  by  the  increase  of  international  travel, 
especially  among  literary  men  until  the  Amer- 
ican Revolution  suspended  these  relations  and 
the  spirit  of  Rousseau  piloted  the  heedless  ship 


231 


463  December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


464 


of  state  toward  the  maelstrom  of  the  Revol- 
ution. 

Thus  aided  by  the  spirit  of  the  time,  the  lit- 
erature of  the  pre-Revolutionary  generation  be- 
comes   more    emotional    and  individualistic, 
that  is  more  lyric  and  more  subjective.     Rous- 
seau becomes  the  prophet  of  the  new  era  not 
in  France  alone,  but  in  all  Europe.     Indeed 
the  purely  literary  development  of  Rousseau- 
ism  is  at  first-  more  noteworthy  among  the 
German  poets  of  the   "Storm  and   Stress" 
than  in  France,  where  its  progress  was  checked 
both  by  the  jealous  carping  of  Voltaire,  in  this 
as  in  most  things  a  thorough  conservative, 
and  also  by  the  recrudescence  of  an  unreason- 
ing admiration  for  the  forms  of  Classical  An- 
tiquity.   In  Germany  his  portrait  graced  the 
severe  study  of  Kant,  Lessing  confessed  for 
him  "a  secret  respect,"   while   Herder  pro- 
claimed aloud  his  admiration  for  this  "saint 
and  prophet.  "    At  Strasbourg  Goethe  studied 
and   excerpted  his    writings;    to    the    young 
Schiller  he  was  a  "martyred  Socrates."     In 
England  Tristram  Shandy,  and  still  more  the 
Sentimental  Journey,  with  their  rambling  con- 
fessions and  astonishing  "  gift  of  tears,"  are  a 
tribute  to  the  New  Helo'ise,  and  in  Cowper, 
Shelley  and  Byron  the  English  from  whom  he 
had  drawn  so  great  a  part  of  his  inspiration 
delighted    to  do  him   honor.     Even   George 
Eliot  could  say  that  Rousseau  had  vivified  her 
soul  and  aroused  in  her  new  faculties.    And 
in  France    the  eclipse    was  but  partial  and 
short.     Robespierre  had  the  New  Htlo'ise  con- 
stantly on  his  table,  and  forms    his  polished 
periods  on    the    models  of   Rousseau.    Ber- 
Nardin  de  St.  Pierre  and   Chateaubriand   are 
hardly  less  his  avowed  pupils  in  literary  art. 
With  the  latter's  Genius  of  Christianity,  with 
de  Stael's  Literature  and  her  Germany,  Rous- 
seau's star  is  again  in  the  ascendant,  and  with 
the  Restoration,  literary  Rousseauism  became 
an  irresistible  tendency.     It  was  not  for  nothing 
that  the  flower  of  French  culture  had  passed 
more  than  two  decades  in  the   very  literary 
centres  where  the  Huguenots  had  preceded 
them  a  century  before.    They  returned  from 
England  and  Germany  bearing  with  them  re- 
inforcements to  all  the  dormant  elements  of 
Romanticism.     From  1814  there  has  been  in 
Europe  an  unbroken  cosmopolitan  tradition. 
BENJAMIN  W.  WELLS. 
Snvanee,  Tenn. 


THE  DIALECT  OF  THE  RIES.  II. 
THE  DIALECT. 

THE  dialect  of  the  people  of  the  Ries  is 
Swabian,  although  somewhat  influenced  by 
the  Prankish  dialect  or,  as  I  should  prefer  to 
say,  by  the  Frankish-Bavarian  dialect,  because 
the  present  Bavarian  dialect  includes  besides 
Altbayern  (Oberbayern,  Niederbayern,  and 
Regensburg)  also  some  parts  of  the  provinces 
Ober-  and  Mittel-Franken." 

Formerly  Prankish  elements  seem  to  have 
prevailed,  at  least  in  the  speech  of  the  educa- 
ted. Not  less  than  about  sixteen  per  cent  of 
the  names  of  the  villages  in  the  Ries  and  its 
surroundings  have  the  suffix  -heim  which  orig- 
inated with  the  Franks,  who  penetrated  at  the 
close  of  the  fifth  century  into  the  south-west- 
ern parts  of  Germany.  Another  common 
suffix  is  -hausen  found  in  nearly  five  per  cent 
of  all  the  names  of  villages.  This  also  is  a 
Prankish  characteristic. 

The  suffixes  -weiler  (O.H.G.  wilari,  M.H. 
G.  wilcere,  wiler)  and  -hof,  on  the  other  hand, 
are  Alemannian,  the  latter  however  less  than 
the  former."  Comparatively  few  names  of 
villages  with  these  two  last  mentioned  suffixes 
are  found  in  the  Ries,  a  fact  which  does  not 
prove  anything  against  the  Alemannian  origin 
of  the  early  ancestors  of  the  Rieser.  Even  if 
there  were  no  other  evidence,  the  modern 
dialect  of  the  Ries  would  prove  that  the 
inhabitants  are  of  Alemannian  origin.  Their 
dialect  is  Swabian,  though  it  differs  from  other 
Swabian  dialects. 

On  account  of  the  frequency  of  the  sibilants 
(Zischlaute),  Frickhinger  classifies  the  dialect 
of  the  Ries  with  those  of  Central  Swabia, 
admitting  that  it  was  somewhat  influenced  by 
the  Frankish-Bavarian  dialect.'S 

Near  the  boundaries  of  Wurttemberg  the 
doublets',  which  are  so  characteristic  of  the 
dialect  of  the  Ries,  are  not  so  frequent  as  in 
other  parts  of  the  district.  We  hear  besides 
ale  more  frequently  e le  (=alle)\  besides  Nearle, 
Nearleng,  etc.  Near  the  Frankish  boundary, 
in  Oettingen,  Laub,  Kreuth,  etc.,  the  Frankish 
dialect  naturally  shows  a  slight  influence,  but 

11  Cf.  Weinhold,  Bayr.  Gram.  §2,  p.  5. 

12  Cf.  Mayer,  Ortsnamen  hn  Ries, pp.  7  ff. 

13  Cf.    Beitragt   zur    Anthropologie  und    Urgeschichte 
Bayerns,  hrsg.  von  Ranke  und  Rudinger.,  Vol.  viii. 


232 


465 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


466 


the  Swabian  idioms  are  not  crowded  out  as 
one  might  imagine,  a  number  of  doublets 
occuring.  Besides  hond  (3.  pers.  plur  of  habeii) 
we  hear  htibed. 

Still  further  southeast,  south  from  Oettingen 
toward  Wemding,  in  Huisheim,  Gosheim,  etc., 
we  hear  instead  of  i  woes  :  i  woas  ;  instead  of 
goes :  goas,  for  which  reason  these  people  are 
sometimes  called  the  "Pfalzer".  These  are 
however  exceptional  cases.  In  former  years 
a  few  Catholic  villages  situated  between  Har- 
burg  and  Wemding  really  belonging  to  the 
"  Pfalz  ".M  The  above  examples  are  the  only 
traces  left  of  the  Pfalzer  dialect. 

There  is  a  slight  difference  between  the 
speech  of  the  Protestants  and  Catholics,  al- 
though this  may  sound  strange.  There  is 
even  a  difference  in  their  outward  appearance. 
Ordinarily  the  peasant  of  the  Ries  wears  a 
striped  cap,  close  fitting  with  a  hanging  ex- 
tension, to  which  is  attached  a  tassel.  On 
Sunday  he  wears  a  felt  hat  or,  if  he  be  wealthy, 
a  high  cap  of  otter  fur.  His  coat  is  short, 
generally  made  of  black  velvet  or  broadcloth. 
On  Sunday  many  wear  a  long  coat  extending 
almost  to  the  ankles  or  a  jitpon.  The  vest 
is  also  made  of  black  velvet  or  broad  cloth  with 
silver  buttons  as  large  as  a  walnut.  The 
trowsers  are  made  of  leather  and  reach  to  the 
knee.  They  are  usually  highly  ornamented 
with  stitchwork.  Long  white  stockings  are 
worn  in  summer,  black  stockings  in  winter. 
Low  leather  shoes  of  simple  make  are  com- 
mon. The  dress  of  the  women  is  somewhat 
like  that  of  the  Swiss  women,  varied  and 
picturesque.  Among  the  Catholics  the  men 
usually  wear  long  trowsers  reaching  to  the 
ankles.  Both  men  and  women  are  fond  of  dis- 
playing gaudy  colors.^ 

To  return  to  the  subject  of  language,  I  still 
remember  from  my  school  days,  that  Protes- 
tant boys  pronounced  the  word  seele :  set  and 
the  word  knecht:  kn^chd,  while  Catholics 
said  :  seal  or  se I,  kiteachd  etc. 

Kauffmann,16  Bopp,1?  Birlinger,»8  From- 
maiVQ  Weinhold*0  and  other  writers  on  Swa- 
bian dialects  have  made  similar  observations. 

At  the  time  of  the  Reformation  and  especially 

14  Cf.  Bavaria^  ii,  853  ff.  15  Cf.  Bavaria  ii.  862  ff. 

i6p.  61.  §71.  17  p.  55-  HAl.  xi,  49. 

19  D.  M.  ii.  107.  2oAltnt.  Grant.,  p.  80.  §88. 


during  the  Thirty  Years  War,  when  Catholics 
and  Protestants  were  publicly  and  politically 
opposed  to  each  other,  such  a  phenomenon 
could  be  easily  explained.  Villages,  which 
were  Protestant,  were  compelled  to  accept 
Catholic  priests  as  their  pastors,  but  on  the 
other  hand,  Catholic  villages  turned  Protestant 
voluntarily.  Under  such  a  continual  change 
the  language  of  the  people  in  the  Ries  and  in 
Swabia  generally, became  somewhat  influenced 
by  the  Protestant  or  Catholic  preachers  who, 
coming  from  different  parts  of  the  country, 
brought  with  them  their  dialect."  Upon  the 
whole,  the  Catholics  are  conservative  not  only 
in  their  religion,  customs  and  habits,  but 
also  in  regard  to  their  dialect."  And  thus 
we  may,  perhaps,  say,  that  the  Catholic 
idioms  and  vowels  represent  a  purer  Swabian 
dialect  than  the  Protestant.  We  cannot  say, 
however,  that  the  Catholics  in  the  Ries  come 
in  contact  with  the  Franks  less  than  the  Pro- 
testants do.  I  see  therefore  in  the  few  slight 
differences  between  the  Catholic  and  Protes- 
tant speech,  which  is  not  readily  discerned, 
merely  the  preservation  of  an  older  condition, 
which,  however,  is  gradually  disappearing. 
VOCALISM. 

As  to  the  relation  of  vowel  quantities  to  the 
Middle  High  German  and  New  High  German, 
we  must  remember,  that  in  judging  the  quan- 
tities the  position  of  the  word  in  the  sentence 
is  of  great  importance.  The  accent  has  in 
almost  every  dialect  more  or  less  influence  on 
the  vowels  and  their  quantity.  For  instance, 
in  the  dialect  of  the  Ries,  ich,  when  emphasized 
is  pronounced  like  7,  when  less  emphasized 
like  I,  if  it  is  not  accented  at  all,  like  £. 

The  dialect  of  the  Ries  has  lengthened  the 
M.H.G.  short  vowels  and  obscured  the  long 
ones  or  diphthongized  them.  This  the  dialect 
has  in  common  with  the  Swabian  dialects,  but 
the  tendency  to  lengthen  or  shorten  a  vowel 
varies  in  different  parts  of  Swabia,  as  was 
already  observed  by  Bopp.23  In  many  cases 
the  quantity  of  the  vowels  cannot  be  accurately 
determined. 

21  Cf.  Friedrich  Kluge,  Von  Luthir  6is  Lessittf,  pp.  128  ff. 

22  Cf.  H.  Fisher,  Vitrteljahresheft  1881  p.  132.  and  Rapp, 
D.  M.,  ii.  104. 

23  Cf.  C.  Bopp,  Der  Vokalismus  tics  Schw.'ibischen  in  tier 
Mundart  von  Muiisingtn,  p.  27.  8. 


233 


467 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


468 


a.  Lengthening  of  the  vowels. 
Lengthening  of  the  old  vowels  is  one  of  the 
chief  characteristics  in  N.H.G.  as  compared 
with  M.H.G.,  especially  in  dissyllabic  words 
with  an  open  first  syllable.  This  loss  of  the 
original  short  vowels  is  frequent  in  the  dialect 
of  the  Ries.  Going  even  farther  than  the 
N.H.G.,  our  dialect  has  a  long  vowel  usually 
before  liquida  cum  muta  (barf,  kdlt,  salts,  etc.), 
There  is  a  well  marked  tendency  to  strengthen 
monosyllabic  uninflected  nouns  through  "  Ton- 
fiille,"  or,  as  Sweet24  calls  it,  compound  fall- 
ing or  rising-falling  tone  as  in  England  oh, 
when  expressing  sarcasm  (sdk,  sdts,  klots,  etc.), 
This  process  of  lengthening  is  due  to  a 
tendency  to  distinguish  between  the  inflected 
and  uninflected  forms.  Often  the  lengthened 
and  the  original  short  forms  of  the  same  word 
exist  side  by  side,  and  thus  help  sometimes  to 
distinguish  more  clearly  cases  and  numbers  in 
the  declension  (bldt,  bletr). 

b.     Shortening  of  the  voivels. 

The  shortening  of  old  long  vowels  is  not 
uncommon  in  the  dialect  and  in  many  cases 
agrees  with  N.H.G.  The  position  of  a  vowel 
before  double  consonants  and  combination  of 
consonants,  causes  shortening  (nochbr,  bldtr). 
We  find,  however,  cases  of  shortening  without 
plausible  reason.  M.H.G.  short  vowels  usually 
remain  before  P,  t,  A,  and  before  the  spirants 
that  have  resulted  from  these  stops  (tenues)  in 
the  H.G.  shifting  of  sounds :  ff,  zz,  hh  (ch)\ 
(babl^pappel).  Exceptions,  however,  are  nu- 
merous. The  shortening  of  M.H.G.  long 
vowels  in  the  dialect  of  the  Ries  is  an  excep- 
tional phenomenon  and  to  be  explained  partly 
by  the  following  double  consonant,  partly  by 
other  elements  that  preserve  shortness,  and 
partly  from  a  slighter  degree  of  stress. 
Umlaut. 

The  umlaut  of  the  root-vowel  is  found  in 
cases  in  which  the  N.H.G.  does  not  show  it, 
in  nouns  and  adjectives  as  well  as  in  verbs 
(britk,  brik=brucke;  arweda,  arbzdj—arbeiten 
etc.).  On  the  other  hand,  we  also  find  cases 
of  umlaut  in  N.H.G.  in  which  the  dialect  does 
not  show  it  (bud=butte,  lupfo=liipfen.)  This 
irregularity  is,  perhaps,  due  to  the  Frankish- 
Bavarian  influence  and  to  the  mixture  of 

24  Cf.  Sweet,  A  New  Engl.  Grammar,  p.  a»8. 


Catholic-Protestant  population.  In  conse- 
quence of  it,  a  great  many  are  found  in  the 
Ries  dialect.  Besides  mondeng  we  have  mede 
=montag\  we^schs  :  wascha  ;  blaes  :  b/uiz,  etc. 
The  umlaut  of  the  diphthongs  deserves  special 
attention.  Most  diphthongs  have  the  stress 
on  the  first  element.  Sometimes  three  vowels 
are  combined  and  then  we  have  a  triphthong, 
as  in  druiy,  tswois,  gloey,  etc.,  or  rather  glides, 
which  sounds  are  produced  during  the  transi- 
tion from  one  sound  to  another.  Glides,  how- 
ever, are  not  so  frequent  as  in  other  Swabian 
dialects. 

The  principal  points,  in  which  the  influence 
of  the  Prankish-Bavarian  dialect  upon  the 
dialect  of  the  Ries  is  shown,  are  as  follows  : 

i.  M.H.G  d>  Prankish  t>,  as  in  ;  A&a?=M.H. 
G.  hat,  hat  3.  p.  sing.,  &gr=M.H.G.  bare,  N. 
H.G.  bahre. 

•2.  M.H.G.  ou  (au)>  £  and  o,  as  in:  gg  — 
M.H.G.  ouge,  N.H.G.  auge ;  £g/>=M.H.G. 
koufen,  N. \\.G.kauf 'en. 

3.  M.H.G.  l  (long)  iu>ae,  as  in;  btaebj— 
M.H.G.  beliben,  N.H.G.  bleiben;  laed—U.H. 
G.  liute,  N.H.G.  leute. 

4.  M.H.G.  u  (long)>ao,  as  in  :  haos—M.H. 
G.  hus,  N.H.G.  haus,  ao/(:  ^/)=M.H.G.  ///' 
N.H.G.  auf. 

5.  M.H.G.  ei>e  :  <?,  as  in   nt^dle— M.H.G. 
meit,   N.H.G.   madchen;    tfrZgd  (:   drerhd)= 
M.H.G.  treit,  N.H.G.  tragt.  ' 

The  Prankish  dialect  has  no  pure  a,  while 
in  the  Ries  the  pure  a  is  very  common. 

Also  the  Bavarian  (Altbairisch.,  Oberpfalz- 
isch)  influence  appears  in  some  words  : 

1.  M.H.G.  o>oa,  as  in  roat=M.H.G.  rdt, 
N.H,G.  rot\  frequently  before  r  the  o  is  diph- 
thongized, roar — M.H.G.  rdr.  O.H.G.   rdra, 
N.H.G.  rohr.    The  umlaut  of  this  oa  is  ea  as 
in  kleasdr  plur.  from  kloasdr=M..}r[.G.  klcster, 
N.H.G.  kloster. 

2.  The  M.H.G.  diphthong  uo>uzas  in  gusd 
=M.H.G.  guot,  N.H.G.  gut. 

3.  The  suffix  eng  is  also  to  be  considered 
as  a  result  of  the  Bavarian  influence   as  in  : 
bredeng3=M.H.G.pr£digen,  N.H.G. predigen; 
schuldeng:  schulde—^l.H.G.schuldic,  N.H.G. 
schuldig. 

4.  The   disappearance  of  ch  in   the  suffix 
lich,  which  is  substituted  for  le  (sometimes= 
eng),  the  dialect  of  the  Ries  has  in  common 


234 


469          December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.  470 


with  Bavarinn-Swabian  or  East-Svvabian  dia- 
lects (red/e=M.H.G.  rcdelich,  N.H.G.  red- 
lich  etc.). 

The  nasalized  vowels  a,  ?,  o  and  5  are  as 
common  as  in  other  Swabian  dialects  and  also 
nasalized  diphthongs.  But  as  to  their  quan- 
tity or  quality,  whether  open  or  close,  short  or 
long,  there  is  some  difference. 

CONSONANTISM. 

b  often  interchanges  with  zvt  no  doubt  due 
to  Bavarian  influence. 25  The  medial  b  is  often 
represented  by  tv  as  in  Igwed,  which  is  Prank- 
ish, while  lebed  is  Swabian.  Inorganic  f  is 
not  known  in  the  Ries.  M.H.G.  /  (v)  is  only 
exceptionally  represented  by  pf  (pfludr3=N[. 
H.G.  vlddern],  the  dialect  differing  here  again 
from  other  Swabian  dialects.  As  in  most  of 
the  Southern  German  dialects,  no  distinction  is 
made  between  p  and  d,  b  frequently  disap- 
pears. 

Similarly  no  distinction  is  made  between  d 
and  /;  d  is  seldom  dropped,  but  appears 
frequently  inorganically. 

The  past  participle  of  the  verbum  substan- 
tivum  sein  retains  its  s.  The  Rieser  says 
giv£S3  or  gwesd  which  distinguishes  it  from 
other  Swabian  dialects.  The  Swabian  forms 
gives  or  gsae  (the  diphthongization  of  gesiri) 
are  not  known  in  the  Ries. 

The  Sibilants  occur  frequently,  a  phenom- 
enon which  again  characterizes  the  dialect  as 
Swabian. 

The  guttural  system  does  not  show  any 
Upper  Alemannian  characteristic;26  g  shows 
sometimes  Prankish  aspiration  as  in  hertsoch 
=N.H.G.  herzogi  or  sometimes  in  sechd  in- 
stead of  segd=N.H.G.  sagt;  g  becomes,  how- 
ever, more  frequently  tennis  (sakd=sagt}\  ch 
is  sometimes  palatal,  sometimes  guttural ; 
final  ch  is  dropped,  but  not  so  commonly  as  in 
other  Swabian  dialects,  the  Ries  dialect  agree- 
ing here  again  with  Prankish  Bavarian. 
The  sonorous  consonants. 

In  regard  to  the  semi-vowels  little  is  to  be 
said  as  they  agree  upon  the  whole  with  com- 
mon Swabian.  In  exceptional  cases  j  shows 
a  slight  friction  as  \\\juks3=M..\\.G.juchezen 
N.H.G.  jauchzen  ;  jide—^.H.G.  jndin. 

25  Cf.  Birlinger,  Dtt  Attfsburger  Mundart,  p.  17. 

26  Cf.  Paul's  Grundria  I,  282. 


The  liguids  /  and  r  have  in  the  dialect  of 
the  Ries  a  greater  influence  upon  the  vo\v<  Is 
than  they  have  in  other  Swabian  dialects,  due 
to  the  Bavarian  influence. 

The  liquids  frequently  develop  the  svara- 
bhakti  vowel,  a  phenomenon  not  very  common; 
Bopp  in  his  dissertation  on  the  dialect  of 
Miinsingen  denies  its  local  existence.  Kauff- 
mann  and  Wagner  mention  only  a  few  cases. 
In  comparison  with  common  Swabian  we  find 
also  that  the  dialect  of  the  Ries  does  not  show 
so  many  inorganic  /'s:  r  is  seldom  dropped 
and  not  so  generally  neglected  as  in  Upper- 
Swabia.27  The  uvular  r  (Zapfchen  -r)  is  not 
known  in  the  Ries.  Into  other  parts  of  Swabia 
for  example,  (Reutlingen),  as  Prof.  Wagner 
asserts,28  this  uvular  r,  the  so-called  'grasseyer' 
of  the  French,  has  been  introduced  by  the 
French  soldiers  quartered  there  during  the 
seventeenth,  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  cen- 
turies. This  position  is,  I  think,  not  tenable, 
because  the  same  phenomenon,  if  it  had  been 
caused  by  the  French,  would  have  been  found 
also  in  most  of  the  other  parts  of  Swabia  and 
Bavaria.  The  Bavarian  r  is  more  liquid  than 
the  Alemannian. 

The  nasals  in,  n  and  ng  show  upon  the 
whole  the  same  characteristics  as  in  common 
Swabian.  The  nasalized  consonant  is  fre- 
quently dropped,  but  the  nasalized  vowels  and 
diphthongs  retain  their  nasal  sound. 

F.  G.  G.  SCHMIDT. 

Cornell  College 


JEAN-BAPTISTE  ROUSSEAU  AS  HIS- 
TORIO  GRAPHER. 

WHEN  Rousseau  left  Paris  in  1711,  without 
waiting  for  the  final  decree1  declaring  his 
perpetual  banishment  from  France,  on  account 
of  the  famous  couplets  of  i7io,2  he  went  to 
Soleure,  Switzerland.  There  he  was  received 
by  the  French  ambassador,  the  Comte  de  Luc, 

27  Cf.  Sailer's  S&mmtliche  Schriften  iitschw.it.  Dialecte. 

28  Cf.  Wagner,  p.  170. 

1  This  decree  was  registered  April  7,  1712. 

2  The  question  as  to  the  authorship  of  these  couplets  is  no 
easy  matter  to  decide.     I  believe,  however,  after  examining 
all  the  evidence  to  be  obtained  at  the  Bibliothtque  Nationale, 
that  Rousseau  did  not  write  them.    The  proof  against  Joseph 
Saurin,  who  was  accused  by  Rousseau,  is  also  insufficient,  and 
the  probabilities  are  that  the  real  author  will  never  be  known. 


235 


47r 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.         47* 


with  whom  he  remained  for  several  years.  In 
1715,  when  this  official  was  transferred  to  the 
Embassy  at  Vienna,  Rousseau  followed  him  to 
the  Austrian  coast,  where  he  soon  won  the 
favor  of  the  Prince  Eugene.  Until  1717,  when 
the  Comte  de  Luc  was  obliged  to  return  to 
France  on  account  of  poor  health,  Rousseau 
remained  a  member  of  his  household.  Then 
the  Prince  Eugene  became  his  patron  and 
promised  to  secure  for  him,  as  we  learn  from 
Rousseau,  a  position  which  would  give  him  a 
comfortable  income.  From  this  time  on, 
numerous  references  to  the  position  occur  in 
Rousseau's  lettersa  but  nothing  definite  is  said, 
as  the  following  extracts  from  letters  to  M. 
Bautet,  one  of  his  friends  in  Paris,  will  show  : 

Vienne,  le  3ojan.,  1717. 

Mes  affaires  sont  presque  regimes;  j  'aurai 

un  emploi  dans  les  Pays-Has  et  le  prince  a  eu 
la  bonte"  de  me  faire  toucher  mille  <§cus,  par 
provision.  Jugez  de  sa  ge'ne'rosite'.  L'anne"e 
passe'e,  deux  jours  avant  la  bataille  de  Peter- 
varadiiH  il  m'envoya  un  diamant  de  4000  1. 
queje  porte  actuellement  au  doigt  et  que  je 
tacherai  de  conserver  toute  ma  vie.  Vous 

voyez  que  ma  fortune  se  r£tablit Je  ne 

puis  vous  dire  quelle  place  m'est  destined, 
jusqu'a  ce  que  le  Conseil  ait  regie  la  forme  du 
gouvernement  des  Pays-Bas,  qui  a  e'te'  tres 
ne'glige'  depuis  Charles  II. s  Je  ne  suis  sur  que 
d'avoir  un  emploi  sans  savoir  lequel.  Le 
prince  Eugene  qui  doit  s'y  rendre  au  retour  de 
la  campagne  m'y  installera  lui-me'me.  Au 
moyen  de  quoi,  je  deviendra  sujet  de  1'Em- 
pereur,  aprls  quoi  mon  dessein  est  de  prendre 
des  lettres  de  naturalization. 

(Lettres,  t.  i,  p.  101.) 

Vienne,  ajuillet,  1720. 

Je  n'ose  plus,  M.,  vous  parler  de  mon  voyage 
aux  Pays-Bas,  apr£s  tous  les  contretemps  que 
1'ont  retard^  depuis  deux  ans.  J'ai  pris  le  parti 
de  n'y  plus  songer  et  de  remettre  a  la  Provi- 
dence le  soin  de  ma  destined II  y  a  bient6t 

18.  mois  que  toutes  mes  hardes  sont  a  Brux- 
elles :  nous  devious  partir  dans  huit  jours,  et 
cependant  nous  sommes  encore  ici  sans  savoir 
quand  nous  en  partirons. 

(Lettres,  t.  i,  p.  in.) 

Vienne,  aojanvier,  1721. 
Le  Prince  Eugene  n'attend  qu'une  re"ponse 
des  Pays-Bas  pour  partir:  j'espere  qu'elle  ne 
tardera  pas  et  queje  m'y  rendrai  avec  lui. 
(Lettres,  t.  i,  p.  120.) 

3  Lettres  de  Rousseau  sur  diffe'rents  sujets  de  litttrature. 
Barrillot  et  Fils,  Geneve.     1750.     5  vols.  in-i2. 

4  Victory  won  by  the  Prince  Eugene  against  the  Turks. 

5  Charles  II,  King  of  Spain  (1665-1700). 


Vienne,  i  feV.,  1722. 
Oui,  Monsieur,  je  pars  d'ici  sans  faute  dans 

huit  jours Adieu,  monsieur,  1'affaire  de 

mon  e'tablissement  est  en  bon  train ;  mais  je  ne 
puis  encore  vous  en  rien  dire  de  positif. 
(Lettres,  t.  i,  p.  121.) 

Bruxelles,  6  octobre,  1722. 
Enfin,  Monsieur  je  me  retrouve  a  Bruxelles 
et  j'espere  pouvoir  bient6t  vous  mander  quel- 
quechose  de  positif  sur  mon  e'tablissement. 
(Lettres,  t.  i,  p.  123.) 

Londres,  20  feVrier,  1723. 
.  .  .  .  Je  compte  e"tre  de  retour  a  Bruxelles 
(au  mois  de  mai),  ou  je  vois  par  toutes  les 
lettres  queje  recois  de  M.  le  Prince  Eugene 
queje  trouverai  mes  affaires  ou  faites  on  bien 
avance"es.  L'emploi  qu'on  songe  a  me  former 
est  de  mille  e"cus  qui  voudraient  chez  vous 
aujourd'hui,  pr£s  de  8000.  liv.  comme  il  faut 
pour  cela  un  arrangement  nouveau,  le  Conseil 
des  Finances  y  a  trouve"  des  difficulte's  :  mais 
n'ayant  que  la  voix  consultative,  leur  opposi- 
tion n'est  d'aucune  consequence. 

(Lettres,  t.  i,  p.  129.) 

Bruxelles,  20  octobre,  1723. 
....  La  conclusion  de  mes  affaires  me  fait 
regarder  comme  tre\s-prochain  mon  retour  a 
Vienne,  queje  dois  appeller  ma  vraie  patrie. 
Je  devrais  m6me  avoir,  d£s-a-pre"sent,  mes 
Patentes,  qui  e"taient  prates  a  y  £tre  envoye'es 
il  y  a  trois  semaines,  sans  un  accident  impr^vu 
qui  a  oblige"  M.  le  Marquis  de  Prie"  d'y  faire  un 
changement  qui  les  rendra  plus  solides.  Je  ne 
me  presse  point,  parceque  je  regarde  la  chose 
comme  infaillible. 

(Lettres,  t.  i,  p.  134.) 

Bruxelles,  20 Jan.,  1724. 

J'ai  ma  permission  de  retourner  a  Vienne  et 
je  compte  de  m'y  acheminer  vers  le  mois  de 
juin.  Mes  Patentes  sont  expedites  a  la  chancel- 
lerie  et  vont  partir  pour  Vienne.  Comme  la 
signature  ne  les  retiendra  longtemps,  elles 
reviendront  ici  vers  le  15  du  mois  prochain,  et 
seront  scelle'es  avant  le  mois  de  mars :  apr&s 

auoi  je  n'aurai  plus  rien  a  faire  ici.    Je  vous 
irai  alors,  le  titre  qu'elles  me  donnent. 
(Lettres,  t.  i,  p.  137.) 

Bruxelles,  17  juillet,  1723. 
J'ai  enfin.M., mes  Patentes  depuis  deux  mois, 
et  je  n'en  suis  pas  plus  avance",  par  line  diffi- 
culte"  survenue  entre  le  Gouvernement  et  le 
Conseil,  ou  elles  doivent  6tre  enregistr^es.  Get 
obstacle  qui  ne  saurait  6tre  leve"  qu'a  Vienne, 
m'empficlie  d'y  retourner,  parceque,  c'est  ici 
queje  dois  preter  mon  serment,  et  que  j 'ignore 
le  temps  ou  Ton  pourra  recevoir  la  decision  de 
la  cour. 

(Lettres,  t.  i,  p.  139.) 

Bruxelles,  i  avril,  1725. 

Mon  affaire  vient  de  passer  au  Conseil  des 
Finances  qui  a  opine"  d'une  voix,  en  mafaveur. 


236 


473          December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


474 


Elle  a  e"te"  ensuite  porte"e  au  Conseil  d'Etat, 
qui  s'est  conform^  a  celui  des  Finances.  I!  ne 
sjagit  plus  que  de  dresser  la  constilte  et  de 
1'envoyer  &  Vienne.  J'espere  que  le  de"cret  de 
1'Empereur  ne  me  sera  pas  moins  favorable 

que  1'avis  des  conseils Cette  affaire  me 

paralt  certaine. 

(Lettres,  t.  i,  p.  147.) 

Bruxelles,  20  octobre,  1725. 

L'affaire  de  mon  e'tahlissement  se  trouve  ac- 

crochje,  M.,  par  les  changements   fails   dans 

les   Finances   et   les    charge's  &  1'occasion  du 

gouvernement  de  1'Archiduchesse. 

(Lettres,  t.  i,  p.  152.) 

Bruxelles,  lonov.,  1725. 
J'espere  avoir  le  de"cret  de  I'Empereur  £  la 
fin  de  ce  mois :  ce  qui  rendra  mon  e'tablisse- 
nient  plus  solide  qu'il  ne  1'aurait  e*te"  avec  une 
simple  Patente  de  M.  le  Prince  Eugene. 
(Lettres ',  t.  i,  p.  149.) 

It  is  evident  that  Rousseau,  in  these  letters, 
was  speaking  of  an  affair  which  concerned 
intimately,  for  a  number  of  years,  the  course 
of  his  existence,  but  his  references  are  always 
vague  and  indefinite.  Being  unable  to  find 
any  more  exact  information  in  his  correspon- 
dence, and  getting  no  help  from  his  numerous 
biographers  who  have  been  content  to  speak 
of  a  position  without  trying  to  explain  the 
reference,  further  investigation  brought  to  light 
in  the  Bulletin  de  racadeinie  royale  de  Bel- 
gique,  2mese"rie, tome  ii  (1846), an  article  entitled, 
Notice  sur  Jean-Baptiste  Rousseau.  Historio- 
graphe  des  Pays-Bas  Autrichiens  par  M. 
Gachard,  archiviste  general  du  Royauuie. 

As  this  article  settles  the  question  and  as  it 
never  seems  to  have  been  noticed  by  subse- 
quent writers  on  the  subject,  the  facts  discov- 
ered by  M.  Gachard  may  be  of  interest. 

The  correspondence  shows  that  Rousseau 
expected  to  go  to  Brussels  with  the  Prince 
Eugene  for  the  final  settlement  of  the  affair  ; 
but  Eugene  was  unable  to  make  the  trip  as 
soon  as  he  had  expected,  and  after  waiting 
five  years,  Rousseau,  impatient,  went  by  him- 
self in  1722.  At  this  time  the  Prince  wrote  to 
his  deputy,  the  Marquis  de  Prie"  asking  him  to 
have  delivered  to  Rousseau  a  commission  as 
historiographer  of  the  Pays-Bas.  (Consul te 
du  Conseil d' EtatAu  24avril,  1725.)  As  Racine 
and  Boileau  had  held  similar  positions  under 
Louis  XIV,  it  is  probable  that  the  Prince 
Eugene  considered  this  sufficient  precedent 
for  conferring  such  a  position  upon  a  poet. 


In  making  this  request,  it  is  possible  that  he 
was  unaware  of  the  fact  that  the  position  al- 
ready existed,  and  that  it  was  then  occupied. 
It  had  been  created  by  Philippe  II,  in  favor  of 
Juste-  Lipse,  whose  letters  of  appointment  were 
issued  December  14,  1595.  In  1722,  the  his- 
toriographer was  Jean-Gerard  Kerckerdere, 
who  received  his  commission  May  18,  1708, 
and  held  it  until  he  died  in  1738.  If  the  Prince 
Eugene  was  aware  of  this  fact,  he  was  trying 
to  re-establish  a  precedent  which  Charles  II 
had  tried,  without  success,  to  establish  in  1689, 
in  the  creation  of  a  second  historiographer. 

However  this  may  be,  the  Marquis  de  Prie" 
found  difficulty  in  obtaining  Rousseau's  com- 
mission as  the  intendants  des  finances  opposed 
the  project  from  motives  of  economy,  the 
finances  of  the  Netherlands  being  in  a  bad 
condition,  and  cited  the  instructions  of  the 
Emperor,  forbidding  the  creation  of  any  new 
places.  The  Prince  Eugene,  to  expedite  mat- 
ters, sent  from  Vienna,  in  his  own  name, 
formal  letters  creating  Rousseau  historio- 
grapher, and  bearing  the  date  January  15, 1724. 
(Consulte  du  Conseil  d' Etat  du  24  avrif,  1725.} 
It  is  probable  that  Rousseau  would  now  have 
received  this  long-sought  position,  if  circum- 
stances had  not  intervened.  At  this  time  a 
quarrel  arose  between  the  famous  comte  de 
Bonneval,  who  had  been  sent  to  Brussels  in 
the  latter  part  of  1723,  to  take  command  of  the 
Austrian  infantry  in  the  Netherlands,  and  the 
Marquis  de  Prie",  the  representative  of  the 
Prince  Eugene.  Rousseau,  who  had  known 
Bonneval  at  Vienna,  sided  with  him,  and  is  sup- 
posed to  have  written  for  him, or  helped  him  to 
write,  some  satiric  verses  which  angered  Prie". 
As  Rousseau, in  this  affair, had  naturally  injured 
his  cause,  he  set  out  for  Vienna  about  Septem- 
ber i,  1724,  hoping  to  hasten  the  confirmation 
of  his  appointment.  While  on  the  way,  how- 
ever, he  learned,  Sept.  3,  of  the  arrest  of  Bon- 
neval, and  upon  his  arrival  at  Vienna,  he 
practically  forgot  his  own  affairs  in  his  efforts 
to  secure  BonnevaFs  release.  In  this  he  was 
unsuccessful,  and  at  the  same  time  he  offended 
Eugene  who  was  siding  with  Prie". 

To  make  the  matter  worse,  when  Rousseau 
returned  to  Brussels  in  March,  1725,  he  found 
that  the  administration  of  the  Netherlands 
had  been  given  to  the  archduchess,  Marie- 


237 


475 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.          476 


Elizabeth,  the  sister  of  the  Emperor,  while 
the  Prince  Eugene  had  been  made  Vicaire 
General  vi  the  Italian  provinces.  Erie"  had 
been  deposed  and  the  Comte  de  Daun 
was  representing  the  Archduchess.  While  in 
Vienna,  Rousseau  had  been  assured  by  the 
Emperor  that  he  would  ratify  the  commission 
sent  by  Eugene  as  soon  as  it  had  been  approv- 
ed by  the  Conseil  d1  Etat  des  Pays-Bas.  So  he 
sought  out  the  Comte  de  Daun,  who  proposed 
the  matter  again  to  the  intendants  des  finan- 
ces, and  this  time  they  were  favorable  to  it. 
At  the  session  of  the  Conseil  d1  Etat,  however, 
although  the  majority  of  the  members  were 
friendly  to  Rousseau,  the  few  who  were  not  so 
succeeded  in  prevailing  upon  Daun  to  leave 
the  decision  to  the  Emperor.  (Consulte  du 
Conseil  d' Etat  du  24  avril,  1725,  aux  Archives 
du  Royaume  de  Belgique.)  Rousseau  was  now 
very  confident  that  the  matter  would  be  soon 
finished,  as  is  shown  by  the  last  letter  cited. 

But  at  this  time  the  Conseil  supreme  des 
Pays-Bas  sent  a  communication  to  the  Em- 
peror, in  which  his  attention  was  called  to  the 
fact  that  an  historiographer  already  existed 
(Kerckerdere),  and  expressed  its  astonishment 
that  neither  the  intendants  des  finances  nor 
the  members  of  the  Conseil  a" Etat  had  men- 
tioned this  fact  in  their  discussion  of  the  ques- 
tion. In  addition,  various  objections  were 
raised  to  the  fitness  of  Rousseau  for  such  a 
position : 

Y  quando  dicho  empleo  fuesse  vacante, 
parece  que  no  seria  conveniente  conferirle  a 
Rousseau,  tanto  por  ser  francos  de  nacion, 
quanto,  porque  el  empleo  de  historiographo  le 
diera  adito  a  todos  los  archives  del  pais,  y  a  la 
plena  noticia  de  los  papeles  mas  reservados, 
circunstancia  que  pudiera  traer  con  sigo  muchos 
y  muy  notables  inconvenientes  que  deja  el 
consego  a  la  alta  consideracion  de  V.  Md., 
mayormente,  quando  dicho  Rousseau  ne  tiene 
el  cre'dito  assentado,  tanto  por  su  peligrosa 
profession,  quanto  por  los  motivos  por  los 
quales  fue'  hechado  de  su  patria. 

A  todo  lo  qual  se  anade  el  requisite  neces- 
sario  de  la  lengua  flamenca,  que  ignora  Rous- 
seau, y  sin  la  qual  el  historiographo  de  aquellos 
paises  seria  de  poco  provecho  respecto  que 
una  grande  cantidad  de  papeles  y  noticias, 
assi  antiguas  como  modernas  se  hallan  en 
lengua  flamenca. 

(Consulte  du  3  aoiit,  1725,  conservee  en  ori- 
ginal aux  Archives  du  Royaume  de  Belgique.) 

It  is  apparent  that,  after  this  communication, 


some  powerful  influence,  such  as  that  of  the 
Prince  Eugene,  would  have  been  necessary  to 
turn  the  tide  in  Rousseau's  favor.  But  this 
prince,  although  still  continuing  his  corres- 
pondence with  Rousseau,  had  lost  much  of  his 
earlier  enthusiasm  for  the  poet,  and  since  the 
Bonneval  affair  had  ceased  to  show  him 
marked  favor. 

Consequently,  the  Emperor,  not  wishing  to 
take  any  part  in  the  matter,  allowed  it  to  go  by 
default,  and  so  it  came  to  pass  that  Jean 
Baptiste  Rousseau  was  never,  in  due  form,  the 
Hisloriographe  des  Pays-Bas  Autrichiens. 

JOHN  R.  EFFINGER,  JR. 
Paris. 


CHA  UCER'S  LEGEND  OF  GOO  D 

WOMEN  AND  BOCCACCIO'S  DE 

GENEALOGIA  DEO  RUM. 

IN  a  former  note  (x  :  379)  treating  of  the  list  of 
hapless  lovers  in  the  Hous  of  Fame,  an  at- 
tempt was  made  to  show  that  Chaucer  was  not 
indebted  to  Ovid  only.  He  tells  us,  for  ex- 
ample, in  what  way  Phedra  was  connected 
with  the  desertion  of  Ariadne;  Ovid  does  not. 
He  says  explicitly  that  Phyllis  hanged  her- 
self; in  the  Heroides  this  mode  of  death 
appears  simply  as  one  of  three  she  ponders 
her  choice  of  while  lamenting  her  departed 
lover.  The  poet  must  evidently  have  used 
some  other  source,  and  since  he  has  made 
Phyllis  the  daughter  of  Lycurgus  of  Thrace, 
owing,  as  Lounsbury  pointed  out  (ii,  232) 
to  a  heading  "  De  Phyllida  Lycurgi  filia " 
in  the  De  Genealogia  Deorum,  from  that  work 
also,  it  was  suggested,  he  might  have  acquired 
his  precise  information  concerning  her  mode 
of  death.  Such  is  the  case.  Boccaccio's 
famous  mythology  (here  quoted  in  the  trans- 
lation of  Betussi,  Venice,  1564)  not  only  con- 
firms the  suggestion,  but  calls  attention  as 
well  to  a  number  of  other  points  in  an  un- 
expected, and  what  seems  to  be  a  helpful  way. 
The  story  of  Phyllis  as  it  appears  in  the 
Hous  of  Fame  (1.  388  f.)  is  referred  by  Skeat 
to  the  Heroides,  ep.  2.  In  his  comment  upon 
it  as  it  appears  in  the  Legend  of  Good  Women 
(11.  2934  f.)  he  adds  that  it  is  told  by  Hyginus 
(capp.  59,  243)  and  in  a  few  lines  by  Boccaccio. 
Hyginus  may  at  once  be  set  aside  ;  his  version 
is  a  simple  variant  of  the  filbert-tree  legend, 


238 


477  December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.         478 


and  says  nothing  of  Phyllis's  having  hanged 
herself.  Skeat  does  not  seem  to  have  ex- 
amined Boccaccio;  he  does  not  mention  him 
again.  He  says  also  (3,  xi)  that  a  comparison 
with  Gower  (C.  A.  ii,  26)  shows  that  both 
Chaucer  and  Gower  "  consulted  some  further 
source  which  I  cannot  trace."  This  is  possibly 
true  of  Gower ;  it  is  not  true  of  Chaucer, 
every  detail  of  whose  story  is  contained  either 
in  Ovid  or  Boccaccio. 

References  to  the  Legend  of  Good  Women 
will  suffice,  as  covering  for  the  briefer,  version 
in  the  Hous  of  Fame.  At  the  beginning  we 
read  (11.  2404  f.) : 

Destroyed  is  of  Troye  the  citee  ; 
This  Demophon  com  sailing  in  the  see 
Toward  Athenes  to  his  paleys  large. 

Of  Troy,  Ovid  says  nothing.  Gower  says 
Demophon  was  going  to  Troy.  But  Boc- 
caccio says  he  came  to  Thrace  (x,  171  **) ; 
"  Rouinata  poi  Troia ;  ritornando  uerso  la 
patria." 

The  description  of  the  storm  follows,  which 
we  learn  (11.  2420  f.): 

posseth  him  now  up  now  doun 
•Til  Neptune  hath  of  him  compassioun. 
And  Thetis,  Chorus,  Triton,  and  they  alle, 
And  maden  him  upon  a  lond  to  falle 
Wher-of  that  Phillis  lady  was  and  quene, 
Ligurgus  doghter. 

Ovid's  reference  to  a  storm  (if  it  is  such)  is 
remote  and  by  implication.  It  is  Phillis  dis- 
traught by  love  (furiosa)  who  speaks  (Her.  ep. 
2,  456) : 

at  laceras  etiam  puppes  furiosa  refeci, 
ut,  qua  desererer,  firma  carina  foret. 

Compare  now  Boccaccio  (x,  171  »«) : 

"  Per  fortuna  di  mare  [da  uenti  &  da  fortuna 
cacciato  (xi :  185  »•*)]  fu  portatoinThracia  done 
da  Philli  figliuola  del  Re  Ligurno  [Ligurgo 
(xi,  185  »•")]  fu  raccolto  &  nel  proprio  letto 
allogiato." 

Chaucer,  it  will  be  seen  uses  in  the  above 
passage  the  name  Chorus.  This  is  not,  Skeat 
says,  known  as  the  name  of  a  sea-god.  He 
suggests  accordingly  (as  also  Bech)  a  borrow- 
ing from  the  &neid  (v.  1.  823  f.) ; 

et  senior  Glauci  chorus,  Inousque  Palemon 
Tritonesque  citi,  Phorcique  exercitus  omnis 
Lanea  tenent  T/ietisct  Melite,  Panopeaque  uirgo. 

"  Here  we  find,"  he  adds, 

"  Thetis^  chorus,  Triton;  whilst  'and  they 
alle '  answers  to  exercitus  omnis  ....  Chorus 


is  used  for  Caiirus,  the  north-west  wind,  in 
Chaucer's  Boethius,  bk.  iv,  met.  5,17  ;  but  this 
is  not  the  purpose." 

The  suggestion  is  certainly  attractive— but 
why  should  Chaucer  have  misread  Virgil's 
word  "chorus?  "  Perhaps  his  use  of  it  in  Boe~ 
thius  is  more  in  point  than  Skeat  thinks.  The 
word  is  not  in  fact  necessarily  the  name  of  a 
sea-god  ;  and  when  we  turn  to  Boccaccio,  we 
find  that  he  several  times  refers  to  "choro," 
who"fal'aere  nuuoloso  "  (iv,  78  »•«»),  and  that 
he  further  says  (iv,  76  '») : 

"Dalla  sinistra  Choro,  percioche  chiude  il 
circolo  di  uenti  &  fa  quasi  un  choro,  non- 
dimeno  prima  dice  esser  detto  Chauro  ;  et  da 
alcuni  Agreston." 

Chorus  then,  would  seem  to  stand,  very  ap- 
propriately, for  the  circle  or  concourse  of  the 
winds. 
At  1.  2442,  we  are  told  of  Demophoon 

For  at  Athenes  duk  and  lord  was  he, 
As  Theseus  his  fader  hadde  y-be. 

Theseus,  it  is  to  be  noted,  is  spoken  of  in  the 
past  tense,— and  yet,  in  the  Heroides,  Phyllis 
speaks  of  him  as  alive  and  in  Athens  (Her. 
ep.  2.  11.  13 f.): 

Thesea  devovi,  quia  te  dimittere  nolet : 
nee  tenuit  cursus  forsitan  Hie  tuos. 

The  contradiction  is  a  point  of  evidence  in 
itself,  but  the  testimony  which  Chaucer's 
lines  afford  in  another  connection,  is,  as  will 
be  seen,  much  more  important. 

In  11.  2483  f.  the  death  of  Phyllis  is  related. 
Demophoon  does  not  return, 

And  that  hath  she  so  harde  and  sore  aboght, 
Alias  !  that,  as  the  stories  us  recorde. 
She  was  her  owne  deeth  right  with  a  corde, 

Skeat  refers  to  Her.  sp.  2.  141  f.  without  calling 
attention  to  the  fact  that  hanging  is  only  one 
of  three  ways  which  suggest  themselves  to 
Phyllis,  and  that  nothing  is  said  of  her  choice 
of  any  one  of  them.  He  might  much  better 
have  cited  a  more  explicit  passage  in  the 
Remedia  Atnoris  (11.  601  f.)  which  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  quoted  before  in  this  con- 
nection : 

nona  urebatur  miserae  uia  :  uideris,  inquit : 
et  spectat  zonam  pallid:*  facta  suam. 
adspicit  ad  minus  :  dubitat,  refugitque  quod  audet 
et  timet  et  digitos  ad  sua  colla  refert. 

But  not  even  here  is  the  fact  of  her  death 
plainly  stated.  Moreover,  would  the  pic- 


*39 


479 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.          480 


turesque  use  of  her  girdle  have  escaped 
Chaucer?  Compare  on  the  other  hand  the 
De  Genealogia  (xi,  185  ™) : 

"[Demophonte]  no  ritornandoal  debito  tempo, 
et  ella  non  potendo  sopportare  piu  la  lonta- 
nanza  (come  uogliono  alcuni)  con  laccio  fini  la 
sua  uita." 

Boccaccio,  it  will  be  seen,  manifests  a  decided 
preference  for  the  story  of  her  having  hanged 
herself.  He  goes  on  to  say  that  others  have 
it  that  she  thew  herself  into  the  sea,  and  by 
the  compassion  of  the  gods  was  converted 
into  an  almond  (or  filbert  tree;  cf.  Gower's 
"filliberd  tre  "),  hence  named  after  her  in 
Greek.  But  for  this  story  he  gives  an  ex- 
planation. Zephyrus,  a  western  wind,  passing 
into  Thrace  by  way  of  Athens,  stirs  life  in  this 
tree,  "  et  di  qul  la  fauola  hebbe  luogo,  ci6  £ 
Phillide  allegrarsi,  &  fiorire  per  lo  ritorno  dello 
innamorato  da  Athene." 

From  these  various  correspondences  and 
those  pointed  out  by  Lounsbury  in  other  con- 
nections (cf.  references  in  his  Index),  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  Chaucer  knew  and  used  the 
De  Genealogia.  It  follows  that  in  the  phrase 
"  as  the  stories  us  recorde,"  in  the  fifth  line  of 
the  passage  above  quoted,  and  compared  with 
Boccaccio,  Chaucer  refers  directly  to  this 
work.  To  the  separate  portion  of  the  Heroides, 
he  always  refers  as  the  "epistle"  or  the 
"  lettre  "  of  Ovid.  •  But  here  it  is  the  "stories," 
and  when  the  character  of  Boccaccio's  work 
is  considered — that  it  consists  of  a  series  of 
stories  briefly  told  and  connected  by  head- 
lines which  enable  the  reader  to  follow  special 
lines  of  ancestry  or  history — the  appropriate- 
ness of  such  a  reference  is  apparent. 

If  now  it  is  clear  that  Chaucer  derived  help 
from  the  De  Genealogia,  a  point  can  be  taken 
up  of  greater  importance  than  those  yet 
spoken  of.  Ovid,  it  was  seen,  treated  Theseus 
as  if  still  alive,  while  Chaucer  refers  to  him 
as  in  the  past.  In  this  Chaucer  shows  himself 
familiar  with  Demophoon's  history  (so,  too,  in 
knowing  that  he  was  coming  from  Troy), 
though  Ovid,  as  we  have  seen,  told  him  noth- 
ing about  it.  This  bears  directly  upon  a  pas- 
sage in  which  Skeat  seems  to  have  preferred 
a  wrong  reading.  In  11.  2472  f.,  the  reasons 
for  Demophoon's  departure  are  given  and  the 
fact  of  his  departure  told  : 


He  seide,  unto  his  contree  moste  he  saile, 
For  ther  he  wolde  her  wedding  apparaile 
As  lil  to  her  honour  and  his  also. 
And  openly  he  took  his  leve  tho, 
And  hath  her  sworn,  he  wolde  not  soiorne, 
But  in  a  month  he  wolJe  again  retorne. 
And  in  that  lond  let  make  his  ordinaunce 
As  verray  lord,  and  took  the  obeisaunce 
Wei  and  hoomly,  and  let  his  shippes  dighte 
And  hoom  he  goth  the  nexte  wey  he  mighte. 

Two  minor  details  are  first  to  be  considered. 
The  phrase  "took  the  obeisaunce"  might 
seem  to  mean  the  obeisance  of  the  land  ;  that 
is,  of  Thrace,  but  the  word  is  not  used  in  this 
sense  of  "  homage,"  or  "subjection."  The 
nearest  approach  to  such  a  use  is  in  the  Cotn- 
pleynte  unto  Pile,  1.  84, 

Ye  sleen  hem  that  ben  in  your  obeisaunce. 

Moreover  had  it  meant  homage,  or  service, 
Chaucer  would  have  written  "took  his  obei- 
saunce." Skeat  gives  the  right  meaning  in 
his  glossary,  where  he  explains  it  as  "  obedient 
farewell" — that  is,  Demophoon  took  his  fare- 
well. This  sense,  though  unusual,  seems 
correct ;  we  may  remind  ourselves  of  our 
familiar  phrase,  "dutiful  farewell."  "Took 
the  obeisaunce  "  was  perhaps  coined  by  Chau- 
cer for  the  sake  of  the  rime  and  the  metre  on 
the  model  of  the  French  "prendre  conge"." 

In  the  next  place,  it  will  be  seen  that  Skeat 
understands  the  passage  to  mean  that,  after 
promising  to  return,  Demophoon  declared  his 
lordship  in  that  land  Thrace,  made  his  fare- 
wells, and  left.  So  understanding,  Skeat  has 
placed  a  period  after  "retorne."  This  offers 
the  difficulty  that  Chaucer,  without  apparent 
reason,  makes  Demophoon  declare  his  lordship 
after  taking  leave  and  just  before  going.  It 
offers  the  further  and  somewhat  greater  dif- 
ficulty that  the  verb  "let"  is  left  without  a 
subject.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  should  be 
no  period  after  "  retorne "  and  the  proper 
meaning  of  the  passage  as  it  stands  is  that 
Demophoon  "  wolde  retorne  "  and  [then]  in 
that  land  "  let  make  his  ordinaunce  "  :  briefly, 
that  he  would  declare  his  lordship  upon  his 
return. 

With  this  preliminary,  we  may  approach  the 
main  point.  In  Ovid,  a  formal  assumption  of 
lordship  by  Demophoon  is  nowhere  referred 
to.  The  only  approach  to  it  is  in  the  Her.  ep. 
2.  11.47  f., 


240 


481 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTRS.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.          482 


quae  tibi  subject  latissima  regna  Lyctirgi, 
nomine  femineo  uix  satis  apta  regi. 

Tliis  does  not  necessarily  imply  thai  Demo- 
phoon  had  formally  declared  himself  master  of 
Thrace,  and,  moreover,  we  have  just  seen  that 
the  passage  in  Chaucer  as  it  stands  means  that 
Demophoon  was  to  become  lord  upon  his  re- 
turn and  marriage  with  Phyllis.  The  only 
possible  explanation  for  Chaucer's  version  as 
it  stands  would  be  that  he  had  given  this  turn 
to  the  story  to  heighten  the  baseness  of  Demo- 
phoon's  ingratitude  and  perfidy.  There  is 
however  a  better  explanation.  The  reading 
is  an  incorrect  one.  In  the  words  "And  in 
that  lond,"  Skeat  has  taken  the  reading  of  C. 
and  A.  against  the  reading  of  F.  Tn.  Th.  and 
B.  Of  the  comparative  rating  of  these  texts, 
only  this  need  be  said.  The  C.  Ms.,  can  at 
least  err  to  the  extent  of  saying  (1.  2484)  "  the 
story  us  recordeth  "  instead  of  "  the  stories  us 
recorde,"  in  spite  of  the  rime  "corde  "  in  the 
next  line  ;  the  scribe  saw  no  reason  why  the 
word  should  be  plural.  Moreover,  the  F. 
Ms.,  whose  reading  Skeat  here  rejects,  is  one 
of  the  most  valuable  we  possess,  and  is  in  fact 
the  very  Ms.  on  which  Skeat  bases  his  texts. 
To  its  excellence  he  has  himself  borne  wit- 
ness. 

For  the  words  "  and  in  that  lond  "  the  read- 
ing of  the  four  texts  is  "  ageyn  he  wolde." 
The  difference  is  a  notable  one.  The  phrase 
"and  in  that  londe  "  disappears,  and  with  it 
Demophoon's  apparent  suggestion  that  he 
would  declare  his  sovereignty  in  Thrace.  It 
is  not  in  Thrace  that  he  would  do  this,  but  at 
home.  According  to  the  new  reading,  there, 
in  his  country,  he  would  prepare  for  her  wed- 
ding, and  again  there  he  would  declare  his 
lordship.  This  gives  a  good  reason  for  his 
going — and  here  again  we  may  turn  to  the 
testimony  of  Boccaccio.  The  desire  to  as- 
sume the  sovereignty  is  in  fact,  he  tells  us,  the 
cause  of  Demophoon's  departure.  He  says 
(x,  171  *"): 

"  Doue  essendo  alquanto  seco  dimorato,  in- 
tendendo,  che  Mnesteo  Re  di  Athene  da 
fortuna,  &  trauagli  del  mare  conturbato  era 
arriuato  all'  isola  Melos,  et  iui  morto,  tratto 
dal  disio  di  regnare,  impetrb  per  qual  che 
giorno  licenza  da  Philli.  Cosi  racconciate  le 
naui,  ritornd  ad  Athene." 

Here  appears  the  importance  of  recognizing, 


as  a  moment  ago,  Chaucer's  acquaintance  with 
the  details  of  Demophoon's  history.  The- 
seus had  long  been  dead.  He  had  been  exiled 
and  had  died  at  Athens.  The  kingdom  had 
not  been  in  the  hands  of  Demophoon,  the 
rightful  duke  and  lord.  Though  king  by 
right,  as  Chaucer  calls  him  (I.  2442),  his  king- 
dom was  in  the  hands  of  others, — another 
version  of  this  part  of  his  history  is  used,  it 
will  be  remembered  by  Gower,  where  in  his 
third  book  he  tells  how  the  lieges  of  Demo- 
phoon and  Acamas  had  disobeyed  and  for- 
saken their  lords  while  they  were  at  Troy. 
Now,  Boccaccio  tells  us,  Mnestheus,  the  reign- 
ing king,  had  died,  and  Demophoon  is  anxious 
to  recover  his  throne  and  does  so  "doppo  il 
uentesimo  terzo  anno  del  paterno  essiglio." 
Here,  too,  the  reason  for  Chaucer's  choice  of 
phrase  becomes  apparent  that  Demophoon 
"wolde  make  his  ordinaunce  as  verray  lord." 
Compare  in  the  Knightes  Tale  (A.  1550  f.): 

Of  his  linage  am  I,  and  his  of-spring 
By  verray  ligne,  as  of  the  stok  royal. 

If  this  reading  is  taken,  it  is  seen  that  the 
phrases  "Ther  he  wolde  her  wedding  ap- 
paraile  "  and  "ageyn  he  wolde  make  his  or- 
dinaunce "  are  appositive.  So  also  the  phrase 
"took  the  obeisaunce  "  is  in  apposition  with, 
and  finds  corroboratory  explanation  (as  mean- 
ing "  took  his  farewell  ")  in  "  he  took  his  leve 
tho."  The  two  intervening  lines  in  which 
Demophoon  declares  his  promise  to  return 
belong  naturally  to  the  first  mention  of  his 
leavetaking.  Plainly  these  lines  caused  the 
incorrect  reading  in  C.  and  A. .the  introduction 
of  a  second  reason  not  being  understood  after 
one  growing  so  naturally  out  of  the  story. 
Yet  as  the  passage  stands  in  these  texts  (and 
in  Skeat  except  for  his  period  after  "  retorne  "), 
it  presents  the  awkwardness  of  containing  two 
separate  statements  of  Demophoon's  leave- 
taking  without  apparent  reason,  with  a  state- 
ment between  them  of  his  intention  to  assume 
the  sovereignty  of  Thrace  for  which  Chaucer 
had  no  warrant.  Finally — the  reading  here 
supported  in  any  case  demands  explanation ; 
it  fits  a  history  which  Chaucer  knew,  related 
in  an  authority  he  elsewhere  used  ;  it  is  more- 
over the  reading  of  four  texts,  one  of  them  the 
best,  as  against  two. 

The  story  of  Ariadne  (Ho:ts  of  Fame,  11, 


241 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


484 


405  f.  Legend  of  Good  Women,  11.  1866  f.) 
shows  in  a  similar  way  the  influence  of  the  De 

Genealogia.  In  the  former  note  in  these  col- 
umns cited  above,  verbal  correspondences 
were  pointed  out  between  the  version  in  the 
Hous  of  Fame  and  in  Boccaccio's  Amorosa 

Visione.  Chaucer's  use  of  this  poem  suf- 
ficiently explains  the  introduction  of  Phedra, 
whom  Ovid  does  not  mention  in  direct  relation 
with  the  story;  his  complete  knowledge  of 
the  details  of  her  connection  with  it  is  of  course 
not  to  be  explained  by  her  passing  allusions  to 
Theseus  in  her  epistle  to  Hippolytus  (Her.  ep, 
iv).  But  the  version  in  the  Legend  of  Good 

Women  contains  a  number  of  points  which 
await  explanation.  Skeat,  in  his  note  upon  its 
sources,  besides  referring  to  Ovid  (Met.  vii, 
456-8;  viii,  6-182:  ffer.ep.  x.  chiefly  1-74;  also 
compare  Fasti,  iii,  461-516)  suggests  (3,  xxxix) 

"  But  Chaucer  consulted  other  sources  also, 
probably  a  Latin  translation  of  Plutarch's  Life 
of  Theseus ;  Boccaccio,  De  Genealogia  Deo- 
rum,  lib.  x.  capp.  27,  29,  30;  also  Vergil,  Aen. 
vi,  20-30;  and  perhaps  Hyginus,  Fabulae  capp. 
4I-43-" 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  Skeat  did  not  use 
the  passages  from  Boccaccio  to  which  he 
refers.  Plutarch  is  often  quoted,  though  his 
story  resembles  Chaucer's  only  in  barest  out- 
line, and  though  there  is  no  direct  evidence 
whatsoever  that  Chaucer  made  use  of  it. 
Boccaccio  elsewhere  is  quoted  in  full,  as  for 
example  in  connection  with  Hypermnestra. 
Here,  however,  after  this  single  reference, 
Skeat  does  not  speak  of  him  again,  not  even 
in  the  memorandum  of  the  sources  which  pre- 
cedes the  notes  to  the  tale.  Had  Skeat  ex- 
amined the  passages  he  cites,  he  would  have 
found  that  Boccaccio  supplies  a  gap  of  which 
he  says  that  "  Chaucer  here  leaves  Ovid  "  and 
"seems  to  have  filled  in  details  from  some 
source  unknown  to  me."  He  would  also  have 
been  saved  making  notes,  which  the  De  Gene- 
alogia shows  to  be  unnecessary,  and  would 
not  have  failed  to  seek  and  consult  other 
parts  of  the  work,  to  which  he  would  have 
been  led  by  the  helpfulness  of  these  to  which 
he  does,  at  least,  make  reference. 

One  of  the  instances  in  which  the  De  Gene- 
alogia would  have  proved  helpful  to  Skeat  is 
found  in  the  first  line  of  the  tale  (1. 
Chaucer  addresses  Minos, 


luge  infernal,  Minos,  of  Crete  king. 

Skeat  says, 

"  In  1.  1894,  we  again  have  mention  of  Minos, 
king  of  Crete  ;  which  looks  as  if  Chaucer  has 
confused  the  two  kings  of  this  name.  The 
'infernal  judge'  was,  however,  the  grandfather 
of  the  second  Minos ;  at  least,  such  is  the 
usual  account." 

To  suggest  that  Chaucer  is  in  error  in  regard 
to  a  point  of  this  sort  is  not  without  its  perils — 
witness  the  famous  case  of  the  town  of  Via 
Appia  in  the  Second  Nonnes  Tale.  In  the 
present  case  the  mistake  was  not  Chaucer's — 
he  had  authority ;  for  plainly  with  regard  to 
the  Minos  of  the  story,  Boccaccio  says  (xii, 
185  w>) : 

"Et  poi  chiamato  giudice  neH'inferno,  per- 
cioche  noi  mortali,  rispetto  a  i  corpi  soprace- 
lesti,  siamo  infernali,  onde  nel  dar  leggi,  si 
come  fece,  si  puo  dire,  che  fu  giudice  dell'in- 
ferno." 

At  1.  1895,  Boccaccio  again  proves  helpful. 
Minos,  we  are  told, 

To  scole  hath  sent  his  son  Androgeus, 
To  Athenes ;  of  the  which  hit  happed  thus, 
That  he  was  slayn,  lerning  philosophye, 
Right  in  that  citee,  nat  but  for  envye. 

Skeat  refers  to  Ovid,  Met.  vii,  456-8;  Virgil, 
Aen.  6,  20,  and  to  Plutarch  (Shakspeare,  p. 
420).  Ovid  merely  says  that  Minos  went  to 
war  to  avenge  Androgeus  ;  none  of  these  says 
anything  of  the  cause  of  the  youth's  death. 
It  is  to  be  found, however, in  the  De  Genealogia 
(xi  186  ro) : 

"  Fu  Androgeo  figliuolo  di  Minos  &  di  Pasiphe, 
&  giouane  di  molta  uirtu,  ilquale  in  Athene, 
nella  palestra  superando  tutti,  fu  da  Atheniesi 
&  Megaresi  morto  per  inuidia." 

Passing  by  the  story  of  Scylla,  which  is  of 
course  taken  from  Met.  viii,  6-176,  at  1.  1922, 
that  part  of  the  story  is  reached  where,  Skeat 
says,  "  Chaucer  seems  to  have  filled  in  details 
from  some  source  unknown  to  me."  One  of 
these  details  is  the  condition  imposed  upon 
the  Athenians  by  Minos  (11.  1924  f.) : 

And  this  theffect,  that  Minos  hath  so  driven 
Hem  of  Athenes,  that  they  mote  him  yiven 
Fro  yere  to  yere  her  owne  children  dere 
For  to  be  slayn,  as  ye  shul  after  here. 

Skeat  here  quotes  Plutarch,  presumably  not 
as  Chaucer's  source,  for  Plutarch  says  the 
children  were  sent  yearly,  Chaucer  (1.  1932) 
every  third  year,  but  for  purposes  of  compari- 


242 


485  December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.          486 


son.  There  is  really  no  similarity  between 
them — while  in  Boccaccio  there  seems  to  be 
resemblance  to  Chaucer  (x,  170  *•«) 

"  Finalmente  essendo  ninti  pattegiarono  con 
Minos  in  tal  modo  cio  e  die  ogni  anno  si 
obligauano  mandar  sette  gioueni  di  piu  nobili 
Atheniesi  in  Creta  al  Minotauro." 

Again  Chaucer's  description  of  the  Minotaur 
(1.  1928  f.)  as 

a  monstre,  a  wikked  beste, 
That  was  so  cruel  .... 

though  sufficiently  explained  by  the  poet's  in- 
variably careful  art  as  a  story-teller  may  per- 
haps have  been  suggested  by  Boccaccio's 
description  of  him  (iv,  61  **)  as  "fortissimo, 
ferocissimo,  &  furioso  animale."  Further  at 
1.  1932  we  read, 

And  every  thridde  year,  with-outen  doute, 
They  casten  lot,  and,  as  him  com  aboute 
On  rich*,  on  pore,  he  moste  his  son  take. 
And  of  his  child  he  moste  present  make 
Unto  Minos,  to  save  him  or  to  spille. 

"  This,"  Skeat  says 

"is  due  to  Ovid's  expression — 'tertia  sors 
annis  domuit  repetita  nouenis  (Met.  viii,  171), 
which  Golding  translates  by — 'The  third  time 
at  the  ninth  yeares  end  the  lot  did  chaunce  to 
light  on  Theseus  '  &c.  But  Hyginus  (Fab.  xli) 
says '  anno  unoquoque.'  " 

Hyginus  certainly  does  not  suit, — and  Golding 
may  so  have  translated  the  line  from  Ovid, 
but  it  does  not  follow  that  Chaucer  in  using 
this  line  would  be  either  so  free  or  so  faulty  in 
his  translation.  This  translation  of  Golding's, 
which  seems  to  support  Skeat,  is  in  fact  quite 
erroneous.  The  entire  passage  reads  (Met. 
viii,  168) : 

quo  postquam  geminam  tauri  juvenisque  figuram 
clausit,  et  Actaeo  bis  pastum  sanguine  monstrum 
tertia  sors  annis  domuit  repetita  nouenis  .... 

There  is  nothing  here  about  the  third  lot's 
"lighting  on  Theseus."  Moreover  are  we 
bound  to  suppose  that  Chaucer  mistranslated 
"  novenis  "  because  Golding  did — that  is,  as  if  it 
were  an  ordinal  ?  Plainly  it  was  the  third  lot 
which  subdued  the  monster — hence,  as  only 
three  had  been  cast,  and  the  third  was  fatal,  it 
follows  that  Ovid  in  saying  "  cast  every  nine 
years  "  refers  to  each  single  lot,  not  each  three 
lots.  This  is  in  fact  one  accepted  version  of 
the  story,  as  the  yearly  lot  of  Hyginus  and 
Plutarch  is  another.  It  is  better  to  believe 
that  Chaucer  did  not  mistranslate  his  Ovid,  but 


that  he  found  his  "  every  thridd  year"  in  Boc- 
caccio (x,  170  *>o)  wno  says  they  were  obliged 
to  send  "i  quali  per  sorte  tre  anni  gh  fnrono 
mandati." 
The  casting  of  the  lots  went  on  (11.  1944  ff.) 

Til  that  of  Athene*  king  Kgeus 
Mot  sende  his  owne  sone  Tlieseus, 
Sith  that  the  lot  is  fallen  him  upon, 
To  be  devoured,  for  grace  is  ther  non. 

Here  a  point  arises  as  to  where  Chaucer 
learned  of  Aegeus.  Skeat  refers  to  Ovid,  Met. 
vii,  405  f : 

excipit  hanc  Aegeus,  facto  damnandus  in  uno  : 

nee  satis  hospitium  est,  thalami  quoque  foedere  jungit. 

jamque  aderat  Theseus,  proles  ignara  parent! 

but  neither  this  passage,  nor  Met.  viii,  174, 
which  might  equally  well  have  been  added, 
possess  vital  relation  with  the  story.  All  such 
references  suppose  a  piecing-out  of  the  story 
on  Chaucer's  part,  that  cannot  recommend 
itself  as  a  satisfactory  explanation  when  com- 
pared with  Boccaccio's  directness  (x,  170*"'): 

"  Ma  il  terzo  [sorte]  essendo  tra  gli  altri  toccato 
a  Theseo.egli  con  grandissimo  dolore  del  padre 
Egeo,  per  andarsene  mont6  sopra  una  naue." 

The  casting  of  Theseus  into  captivity  which 
follows,  and  the  discourse  of  the  sisters,  is 
evidently  Chaucer's  own.  The  description  of 
the  labyrinth  might  have  been  taken  either 
from  Ovid,  Met.  viii,  173,  or  from  the  De 
Genealogia,  iv,  61  v°.  For  11.  2146  f. 

And  by  the  teching  of  this  Adriane 

He  overcom  this  beste,  and  was  his  bane. 

Skeat  might  have  adduced  Met.  viii,  174,  "ope 
virginea,"  but  here  also  Boccaccio  may  be 
profitably  consulted  (x,  170^"):  "Theseo  poi 
per  consiglio  d'Arianna  restato  uittorioso." 

One  detail  of  Chaucer's  story  is  baffling— the 
visit  of  the  fugitives  to  "  Ennopie."  Why  did 
Chaucer  introduce  such  a  mere  detail  at  all? 
He  says  particularly  that  Theseus  went  to  visit 
a  friend,  and  Skeat  suggests  very  helpfully 
that  Ovid  makes  so  much  in  another  connec- 
tion (earlier  in  the  story  when  Minos  was 
making  war)  of  the  friendship  of  Aeacus,  king 
of  Oenopia,  (that  is  Aegina),  for  the  Athenians 
and  the  house  of  Aegeus,  that  this  may  have 
influenced  Chaucer.  But  why  introduce  so 
useless  a  detail  at  all  ?  The  question  is  worth 
considering.  Probably  it  is  only  the  beginning 
of  an  unfinished  episode. 


243 


487 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.    Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


For  Phedra's  connection  with  Ariadne's  de- 
sertion, we  have  as  source,  as  in  the  Hous  of 
Fame,  the  Amoroso,  Visione,  or  the  De  Gene- 
alogia,  xi,  186  r°.  The  lament  of  Ariadne  is 
of  course  from  the  Heroides.  One  final  de- 
tail, however,  Chaucer  did  not  obtain  from 
Ovid.  When  Theseus  reached  home  we  are 
told  (1.  2178  f.)  that  he 

fond  his  fader  drenched  in  the  see. 

This  it  will  be  remembered  was  because 
Theseus  forgot  his  father's  fond  device  re- 
garding the  color  of  the  sails.  Of  this  device, 
Chaucer  says  nothing,  although  in  the  line 
quoted  he  refers  to  the  tragic  consequences  of 
Theseus's  forgetfulness.  In  Ovid,  there  is 
nothing  of  this,  but  Boccaccio  describes  it  (x, 
170  **) : 

"  Di  che  il  padre  Egeo  da  un'  alta  torre  riguar- 
dando,  &  ueggendo  le  insegne  nere  dubitd  non 
il  figliuolo  fosse  morto,  &  per  dolore  si  gittb  in 
mare. ' ' 

One  or  two  notes  upon  minor  points  may  be 
added.  Skeat  gives  references  to  Ovid  for  the 
birds,  fishes,  and  beasts,  that  the  gods  have 
"stellified,"  spoken  of  in  the  Hous  of  Fame, 
11.  1004-08.  He  does  not  do  this  for  the  two 
Bears,  for  which  see  Fasti,  i,  54  f.,  or  for  Cas- 
tor and  Pollux,  for  which  see  Fasti,  i,  705,  v, 
700.  "Atlantes  doughtres  sevene,"  Skeat  says 
are  the  Pleiades,  and  refers  to  Fasti,  v,  83. 
There  is  certainly  a  possibility  of  mistake  here, 
for  Ovid  expressly  states  (Fasti,  iv,  169)  that 
but  six  of  the  Pleiades  were  stellified.  Is  it 
not,  on  the  whole,  more  likely  that  Chaucer's 
reference  was  to  the  Hyades,  who  were  also 
daughters  of  Atlas,  and  were  also  stellified, — 
and  all  seven  of  them,  not  six  ?  The  sugges- 
tion is  not  an  idle  one,  for  both  Ovid  and  Boc- 
caccio have  much  to  say  about  them.  More- 
over, we  find  that  when  Chaucer  is  asked 
whether  he  can  place  these  "doughtres  sevene" 
in  the  heavens,  he  replies  (1.  ion  ff.)  that  "it 
is  no  need," 

I  leve  as  wel,  so  god  me  spedc, 
Hem  that  wryte  of  this  matere, 
As  though  I  knew  hir  places  here ; 
And  eek  they  shynen  here  so  bright, 
Hit  shulde  shenden  al  my  sighte, 
To  loke  on  hem. 

Now  who  were  they  that  wrote  of  this  matter? 
Compare  Ovid,  Fasti,  v,  165  f. 


at  simul  inducunt  obscura  crepuscula  noctem, 
pars  Hyadum  toto  de  grege  nulla  latet. 
ora  micant  Tauri  septem  radiantia  flarnmis, 
nauita  quas  Hyadas  graius  ab  imbre  uocat. 
pars  Bacchum  nutrisse  putat ;  pars  credidit  esse 
Tethyos  has  neptes,  Oceanique  senis. 

Note  here  Ovid's  reference  to  their  splendor, 
and  to  their  position  in  the  constellation  of 
Taurus.  Boccaccio  similarly  in  his  chapter 
(iv,  69  »«)  in  "  Le  Hiadi  sette  figliuole  d'At- 
lante,"  quoting  Ovid  to  the  effect  that  they  are 
"nelfronte  del  Tauro  locate,"  goes  on  after 
citing  "Theodontio  "  and  Anselm  to  explain  : 

"  Et  prima  io  istimo  essere  in  questo  modo  ac- 
caduto  la  loro  assuntione  in  cielo,  percioche  di 
numero  si  conueniuano  con  le  stelle  poste  nella 
fronte  del  Tauro  :  onde  cio  £  stato  pigliato  da 
quelli,  che  sapeuano  ii  numero  delle  figliuole 
d'Atlante  fauolosamente  quelle  stelle  da  i 
nomi  delle  donzelle  essere  nomati :  &  con 
tinuando,  di  maniera  s'£  congiunto  con  le 
stelle;  che  fino  al  di  d'oggi  dura." 

And  later  he  explains,  with  Deference  to  the 
position  of  the  sun  in  Virgo, significance  of  the 
legend  of  their  connection  with  Bacchus  : 

"che  con  1'umidita  sua,  onerd  del  segno, 
nel  quale  sono,  stando  il  Sole  in  Virgo,  nella 
notte  diano  molto  uigore  alle  uigne  il  giorno 
arse  dal  Sole." 

With  this  evidence,  it  would  seem  possible 
that  it  was  Ovid  and  Boccaccio  who  informed 
Chaucer  "of  this  matere,"  and  that  the  refer- 
ence is  to  the  Hyades,  not  the  Pleiades. 

At  1.  1584  of  the  Hous  of  Fame,  Eolus  is 
mentioned  as  being  found 

in  a  cave  of  stoon 
In  a  contree  that  highte  Trace. 

"The  connection  of  yEolus  with  Thrace," 
Skeat  says  in  his  note,  is  not  obvious.  Per- 
haps Chaucer  found  his  warrant  in  Boethius, 
iv,  Met.  iii : 

"Yif  thanne  the  wind  that  highte  Borias, 
y-sent  out  of  the  caves  of  the  contree  of 
Trace,  beteth  this  night  (that  is  toseyn,  chaseth 
it  a-wey)." 

Finally,  the  temptation  is  not  to  be  resisted, 
to  call  attention  to  certain  points  of  resem- 
blance between  a  passage  in  Boccaccio  and 
Chaucer's  exquisite  description  of  the  "  mighty 
god  of  love  "  in  the  Legend  of  Good  Women, 
Prol.  B.  11.  226  f. 

Y-  clothed  was  this  mighty  god  of  love 
In  silke,  enbrouded  ful  of  grene  greves, 
In-with  a  fret  of  rede  rose-leves, 
The  fresshest  sin  the  world  was  first  bigonne. 


244 


489          December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.  490 


His  gilte  heer  was  corouned  with  a  sonne, 

In-stede  of  gold,  for  hcvinesse  and  wighte  ; 

Therwith  me  thoughtc  his  face  shoon  so  brighte 

That  wel  unnethes  mighte  I  him  beholde  ; 

And  in  his  hande  me  thoughte  I  sangh  him  holde 

Two  fyry  dartcs,  as  the  gledes  rede  ; 

And  aungellyke  his  winges  sangh  I  sprede. 

And  al  be  that  men  seyn  that  blind  is  he, 

Al-  gate  me  thoughte  that  he  mighte  wel  y-see; 

For  sternely  on  me  he  gan  biholde. 

In  the  first  place  we  note  that  Boccaccio  opens 
his  description  (ix,  148  ro)  with  an  exposition 
of  the  might  of  the  god,  "  il  quale  i  pazzi  (!) 
antichi,  &  moderni  uogliono,  die  sia  Iddio  di 
gran  potere  " — in  proof  of  which  he  adduces 
Seneca's  Hippolytus.  "Ne  quali  uersi,"  he 
adds  "si  dimostra  quanto  grande  sia  di  lui 
potenza,"  whereupon  he  adduces  other  au- 
thorities. 

The  description  of  the  dress  the  god  wore  is 
undoubtedly,  as  Skeat  points  out,  taken  from 
the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose  .  (see  the  English 
version,  1.  890).  It  is  in  the  other  details  of 
his  appearance  that  Boccaccio's  influence  pos- 
sibly appears — and  Apulleius  of  all  people  is 
the  ultimate  source.  Boccaccio  quotes  the 
famous  description  in  the  Golden  Ass,  where 
Psyche  looks  upon  Cupid  asleep 

"  con  la  chioma  della  testa  d'oro  con  la  tempie 
latee,  con  le  gote  purpuree,  con  gF  occhi 
cerulei,  con  i  capelli  tutti  intricati  in  un  globo, 
&  crespi,  che  qua,  &  la  pendeuano,  &  uenlil- 
lauano  ....  per  gP  homeri  d'esso  Iddio  uol- 
atile  le  piume  biancheggiauano  di  una  luce 
diuina  .  .  . ." 

and  so  on.  Is  it  not  possible  that  in  this  un- 
blinded  god,  with  his  golden  hair  woven  into 
the  semblance  of  an  aureole,  and  with  his 
wings  shining  white  with  a  divine  splendor,  we 
can  see  an  adumbration  of  the  god  of  Chau- 
cer's vision  ?  Chaucer  places  also  in  his  hands 

Two  fyry  dartes,  as  the  gledes  rede. 

For  this,  Boccaccio  affords  no  direct  equiva- 
lent, but  what  at  least  may  have  suggested  it. 
He  quotes  Seneca's  Octavia  (ix,  148  »""). 

Finge  Terror  mortal,  ch'amor  fia  uccello 
Che  e  cosi  fiero,  &  dispietato  Dio, 
Indi  le  mane  di  faette  gli  orna 
Con  1'arco  sacro,  &  con  la  cruda  face. 

and  he  comments  (ix,  149  ro}\ 

"  Viene  finto  portar  Parco ;  &  le  faette  .... 
Si  li  aggiunge  la  face,  che  dimostra  gl'  incendi 
de  gl  animi,  che  con  fiamma  continua  da  noia 
a  i  prigioneri." 


The  god  who  led  Alcestis  could  certainly  not 
carry  bow,  arrow,  and  torch  as  well,  but 
Chaucer  can  at  least  symbolize  the  flame  with 
which  he  consumes  men's  souls  by  making 
his  darts  themselves  of  fire. 

Here  our  comparison  may  end,  for  though 
a  number  of  other  passages  both  in  Cower 
and  Chaucer  exhibit  Boccaccio's  influence, 
the  correspondences  here  noted  are  all  that 
may  be  readily  discovered  in  the  Legend  of 
Good  Women  and  the  Hons  of  Fame.  The 
mention  of  this  latter  poem  suggests  a  ques- 
tion— when  will  the  sources  of  its  third  book 
be  discovered  ?  That  they  will  be  found, 
there  can  be  but  little  doubt.  It  is  true  there 
are  those  who  maintain  somewhat  eagerly 
that  this  poem  is  essentially  Chaucer's  own, 
that  it  is  his  only  'original'  work.  This  view  or 
method  of  statement  is  one  to  be  regretted  ;  it 
implies  that  Chaucer  lacks  originality  else- 
where. That  view  would  seem  to  be  the  pref- 
erable one  which  Emerson  maintained — and 
with  regard  to  Chaucer  himself — that  that  man 
is  truly  original  who  recreates. 

CLARENCE  G.  CHILD. 

University  of  Pennsylvania. 


SOME  NEW  ROOKS  ABOUT  SHAKE- 
SPEARE. 

Die  Hamlet  Tragodie  Shakespeares  von  RICH- 
ARD LOENING.  Stuttgart :  Verlag  der  J.  G. 
Cotta'schen  Buchhandlung,  1893.  8vo,  pp. 
x,  418. 

Shakspere:  Filnf  Vorlesungen  aus  dem  Nach- 
lass  von  Bernard  ten  Brink,  hrsg.  von  ED- 
UARD  SCHRODER.  Strassburg :  Karl  J^ 
Triibner,  1893.  8vo,  pp.  vi,  159. 

Shakespeare  and  His  Time:  Under  Elizabeth, 
[English  Writers,  vol.  x.]  By  HENRY  MOR- 
LEY.  London:  Cassell  &  Co.,  1893.  8vo, 
pp.  xv,  507. 

Fiihrende  Geister:  Shakspere.  Von  ALOIS 
BRANDL.  Dresden :  L.  Ehlermann,  1894. 
8vo,  pp.  viii,  232. 

Shakespere  and  His  Times:  Under  James  I. 
[English  Writers,  vol.  xi.]  By  HENRY 
MORLEY  and  W.  HALL  GRIFFIN.  London  ; 
1895.  Svo,  pp.  xv,  468. 


245 


491          December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.  492 


William  Shakespeare:  i-io  Lieferung.  By 
GEORGE  BRANDES.  Paris  and  Leipzig: 
Albert  Langen,  1895. 

PROBABLY  no  other  writer  of  modern  times 
has  so  occupied  the  best  thought  of  the  most 
highly  cultured  nations  for -at  least  one  and  a 
half  centuries  past,  as  has  Shakespeare,  the 
burgher-bard  of  Avon.  His  birth-place  and 
those  parts  of  London  where  he  once  lived 
and  worked  form  the  Mecca  of  the  literary 
world.  His  name  and  fame  are  familiar  in 
every  land  where  English  literature  has  found 
a  reader.  Thousands  of  the  lovers  of  liter- 
ature of  all  the  most  highly  civilized  na- 
tions who  know  not  a  word  of  the  English 
language  are,  nevertheless,  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted with  Shakespeare's  immortal  dramas. 
His  life  and  works  are  as  intimately  known  in 
certain  Continental  countries  of  Europe ;  for 
example,  Germany  and  Austria,  as  they 
are  in  either  England  or  America.  Shake- 
speare's best  and  most  popular  plays  are 
presented  on  the  stage  much  more  frequently 
during  the  course  of  a  year  in  the  larger  cities 
of  the  German  empire  and  in  Vienna,  than  in 
all  the  cities  of  the  English  speaking  world 
combined.  Furthermore,  plays  like  Romeo 
and  Juliet,  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  Hamlet, 
Richard  III,  are  more  popular  among  the 
Germans  than  the  best  productions  of  their 
own  Lessing,  Goethe  or  Schiller. 

We  are  not  surprised,  therefore,  to  find 
books  on  Shakespeare  appearing  by  the  dozen 
every  year  in  the  literature  of  Germany. 
Hamlet  has  been  for  years  a  most  popular  and 
absorbing  theme  for  students  and  critics  in 
Germany,  England  and  America. 

"For  close  upon  three  centuries  critics  and 
commentators  have  been  explaining  and  eluci- 
dating the  greatest  tragedy  of  the  greatest 
dramatist  of  all  time,  '  Hamlet,  Prince  of 
Denmark.'  As  it  is  one  of  the  very  longest  of 
Shakespeare's  plays,  so  it  is  the  one  into  which 
he  seems  to  have  thrown  himself  with  his 
whole  soul.  It  bears  the  name  of  his  only 
son,  Hamlet,  who  died,  eleven  years  old,  in 
1596.  If  the  sorrow-stricken  father  wished  to 
perpetuate  the  name  of  his  son  he  has  suc- 
ceeded. For  among  all  civilized  nations  the 
name  of  Hamlet  has  become  a  symbol  of  the 
highest  reach  of  insight  into  human  souls  as 
yet  attained  by  man.  More  enduring  monu- 
ment father  never  raised  to  son."'  "  Wiirdig 

i  "  Shakespeare  at  Elsinore,"  by  Jon  Stefansson  in  CV»- 
timp.  Rev.,  Jan.,  1896. 


steht  er  (Hamlet)  an  der  Spitze  der  Dicht- 
ungen,  die  unter  dem  Namen  der  Tragodien 
bekannt  sind  und  die  grossartigsten,  gewal- 
tigsten  Erzeugnisse  der  tragischen  Muse  in 
aller  Litteratur  bilden."2 

Prof.  Loening's  Hamlet-Tragddie\s  undoubt- 
edly the  most  interesting  and  thorough  study 
of  this  masterpiece  of  English  literature  that 
has  yet  appeared.  Though  a  professor  of  Law 
in  the  University  of  Jena  and,  as  he  himself 
modestly  says  in  the  introduction  to  his  book, 
a  dilettante  in  the  field  of  literary  criticism,  he 
has,  nevertheless,  given  to  the  public  a  splen- 
did specimen  of  his  thorough  knowledge  of 
Shakespeare,  as  well  as  of  English  literature  in 
general,  and  of  a  most  scholarly  comprehen- 
sion of  the  time-honored  Hamlet  contro- 
versy in  all  its  phases.  Loening  has  in  the 
judgment  of  many  of  the  best  Shakespeare 
scholars,  succeeded  in  clearing  up,  if  not  com- 
pletely, at  least  more  nearly  than  any  one  of 
his  predecessors,  the  life-mystery  of  Shake- 
speare's greatest  creation. 

Loening  has  arranged  the  matter  of  his 
book  in  two  parts  :  Part  i  (pp.  1-142),  "Hamlet 
Criticism  in  Germany;"  Part  ii  (pp.  143-400), 
"The  Content  and  Importance  of  The  Hamlet 
Tragedy."  At  the  end  of  the  book  he  gives 
a  register  of  the  principal  works  used  and 
referred  to,  which  in  itself  furnishes  an  ex- 
cellent bibliography  of  Hamlet  literature  in 
Germany,  England,  and  America.  In  Part  i, 
where  German  criticism  of  Hamlet  is  treated 
historically  and  chronologically,  the  author 
has  not  only  given  a  list  of  the  more  important 
works  on  Hamlet  which  have  appeared  in 
Germany  for  the  past  one  hundred  years,  to- 
gether with  a  resume  of  their  contents,  but  he 
has  also  endeavored  to  put  clearly  before  his 
readers  the  various  theories  of  Hamlet's  char- 
acter advanced  by  different  critics,  and  has 
usually  shown  with  convincing  clearness 
wherein  they  have  all  failed  to  solve  the  riddle 
of  his  life.  The  first  chapter,  The  Earliest 
Representation  and  Comprehension  of  Hamlet 
in  Germany,  is  introduced  in  very  striking  and 
forceful  language;  "3 

"The  aoth  of  Sept.  1776  will  remain  memora- 
ble for  all  time  in  the  history  of  the  German 
theatre  and  German  literature.  On  that  day 
a  drama  of  Shakespeare  was  presented  for  the 

2  ten  Brink,  Ftinf  Vorlesungen,  p.  56. 

3  The  writer's  own  translations  from  the  original. 


246 


493          December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.          494 


first  time  on  the  stage  in  Hamburg,  under  the 
direction  and  according  to  the  specially  pre- 
pared edition,  of  Friedrich  Ludwig  Schrwder. 
This  play  was  Hamlet,  Prince  of  Denmark. 
The  impression  which  this  first  representation 
of  Hamlet  \n  Hamburg  made  on  the  German 
public,  was  so  powerful  and  its  success  so 
beyond  all  question,  that  from  that  time  on 
the  victory  of  the  British  poet-genius  over  the 
false  and  unnatural  in  the  poetic  taste  of  the 
Germans  might  be  considered  as  decided." 

After  briefly  discussing  Lessing's  attempts 
at  the  introduction  of  the  Shakespearean  and 
English  literary  taste  into  Germany  instead  of 
the  French  style,  for  sometime  all-powerful, 
but  already  decadent,  Loening  goes  into 
the  details  of  the  earliest  presentations  of 
Hamlet  in  Germany,  giving  especial  import- 
ance to  the  influence  of  the  Hamburg  per- 
formance on  German  dramatic  taste.  From 
this  date  (Sept.  20,  1776)  till  the  beginning  of 
1778,  Hamlet  was  performed  thirty  times  in 
Hamburg  alone  and  "admired  by  full  houses." 
The  enthusiasm  of  Hamburg  for  Shakespeare 
and  his  Hamlet  soon  spread  over  entire  Ger- 
many. In  the  latter  part  of  1777,  Hamlet  was 
enthusiastically  received  by  the  theatre  loving 
public  of  Berlin.  Early  in  1778  it  was  also 
played  in  Gotha,  then,  in  Dresden,  etc.  Every- 
where in  Germany  Hamlet  preceded  other 
Shakespearean  plays,  and  not  one  equaled  it 
in  popularity  and  frequency  of  representation. 
Ten  plays  of  Shakespeare  were  given  one 
hundred  and  eighty  times  on  the  Hamburg 
stage  from  1779  to  1798,  and  of  these  seventy- 
five  fall  to  Hamlet,  thirty-three  to  Lear,  thirty- 
one  to  Merchant  of  Venice,  etc.  (cf.  p.  10,  note). 
Though  Hamlet  was  from  the  beginning  ex- 
ceedingly popular  in  Germany,  the  form  in 
which  it  was  produced  (that  is  Schroder's 
version  of  the  text)  differed  in  some  very 
essential  points  from  the  original.  The  changes 
which  Schroder  made  naturally  gave  rise  to  a 
general  misunderstanding  of  the  play  and  its 
hero  from  Shakespeare's  point  of  view.  So 
we  find  Goethe  among  the  first  of  the  ad- 
mirers and  critics  of  Shakespeare,  who  de- 
manded that  the  drama  be  presented  to  the 
German  public  in  an  exact  translation  of  the 
original.  It  was,  therefore,  in  great  part  due 
to  Goethe's  efforts  to  make  Hamlet  accessible 
and  comprehensible  to  the  Germans,  that 
he  was  led  to  that  thorough  study  of  the 


principal  character  of  the  play,  which  enabled 
him  to  direct  and  control,  so  to  speak,  all  Ham- 
let  criticism  from  his  day  to  the  present  time. 
Goethe  was  the  founder  of  the  modern  school 
of  Hamlet  critics,  and  his  well-known  theory  of 
Hamlet'scharacter  as  given  in  Wilhelm  Meister 
(•v.3,13),  has  been  virtually  that  of  nearly  all  the 
most  important  critics  of  the  last  one  hundred 
years.  The  real  burden  of  Loening's  work  is 
to  prove  beyond  a  doubt  that  Goethe's  idea  of 
Hamlet,  and  consequently  that  of  his  suc- 
cessors in  the  field  of  Shakespeare  criticism, 
is  in  its  essentials  false.  He  shows,  moreover, 
wherein  the  well-known  theory  of  Werder 
fails  properly  to  account  for  the  mystery  of 
Hamlet's  life.  In  refuting  these  and  all  other 
attempted  explanations  of  Hamlet's  character, 
the  author  gradually  and  clearly  works  out  his 
own  solution.  We  shall  attempt  to  give  in 
brief  the  essentials  of  Loening's  theory,  com- 
mencing with  his  statement  and  explanation 
of  Goethe's  theory.  The  remaining  chapters 
of  the  book,  in  which  other  theories  and  the 
various  phases  of  the  play  are  ably  discussed, 
will  thus  be  left  undisturbed  to  the  enjoyment 
of  each  reader.  Every  one,  who  is  at  all  in- 
terested in  Shakespeare's  master-piece,  and 
wishes  to  see  for  himself  the  gist  of  the  best  that 
has  been  written  on  Hamlet  for  a  century, 
should  not  fail  to  read  Loening's  book. 

According  to  Loening  (cf.  p.  19)  Goethe 
regarded  Hamlet's  hesitancy  as  not  merely 
temporary,  but  lasting,  that  the  revenge 
finally  taken  was  wrenched  from  him  only 
by  the  force  of  circumstances.  As  a  con- 
genial poet,  he  felt,  therefore,  that  the 
cause  for  Hamlet's  conduct  could  only  lie  in  a 
lasting,  inborn  bias  of  his  character, — only  in 
his  natural  disposition.  In  this  admission  lies, 
says  Loening,  the  point  and  essential  signifi- 
cance of  Goethe's  conception  of  Hamlet.  In 
emphasizing  the  importance  of  the  conflict  be- 
tween Hamlet's  naturelle  and  the  task  that 
had  been  imposed  upon  him,  Goethe  un- 
doubtedly struck  a  true  note.  And  he  also 
correctly  recognized  that  the  key  to  this  con- 
flict is  contained  in  Hamlet's  words  at  the 
close  of  Act  i.  But,  unfortunately,  the  true 
meaning  of  these  words  escaped  him,  as  well 
as  all  later  German  critics,  as  a  result  of  inexact 
translation.  He  gave  to  these  words  a  col- 


247 


495 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


496 


oring  and  importance  which  the  original  does 
not  contain, and  he  drew  from  them  correspond- 
ingly incorrect  conclusions.  The  two  lines  in 
question  are : 

"  The  time  is  out  of  joint :  O  cursed  spite, 
That  ever  I  was  born  to  set  it  right ! '' 

The  determining  words,  Loening"  goes  on  to 
say,  are  :  O  cursed  spite,  and  these  are  incor- 
rectly rendered  by  Goethe  through  Wehe  mir; 
they  really  mean  :  O  verwunschter  Aerger,  or 
O  verfluchte  Widerwdrtigkeit ;  they  are  the 
expression  of  an  inner  disinclination  for  the 
imposed  task,  and  not  the  sighing  complaint 
of  a  soul  that  has  been  loaded  with  too  heavy 
a  burden,  and  which  feels  that  it  will  succumb 
to  the  same.  Expression  is  given  in  those 
words,  "O  cursed  spite,"  not  to  a  tragic  feel- 
ing, but  to  a  peevish,  irritable  disposition. 
Hamlet  does  not  cry  "woe!"  (wehe}  about 
himself,  but  he  curses  the  task  that  has  been 
laid  upon  him  (die  ihm  gestellte  Aufgabe  ver- 
wunscht  er,  p.  20).  At  the  same  time  the 
bitter,  harsh  expressions,  in  which  this  feeling 
asserts  itself,  show  that  it  is  in  this  case  not  a 
question  of  a  tender,  delicate,  weak  sentimen- 
tality, but  of  a  very  energetic,  active  feeling 
on  the  part  of  Hamlet.  This  points  further 
to  the  fact  that,  on  the  whole,  the  picture  which 
Goethe  has  sketched  of  Hamlet's  character — 
but  more  especially,  that  side  of  it  in  which  he 
discovered  the  ground  of  his  hesitancy — does 
not  harmonize  with  that  which  the  poet 
(Shakespeare)  evidently  intended. 

The  author  proceeds  in  this  (srd)  chapter 
to  show  how  Hamlet  on  various  occasions  gave 
the  strongest  evidence  of  energetic  and  manly 
courage,  and  also  that  a  further  point  against 
the  Goethe  conception  is  to  be  seen  in  Hamlet's 
actions  with  reference  to  the  duty  which  had 
been  forced  upon  him.  Had  a  lack  of  ener- 
getic action  in  reality  hindered  Hamlet  from 
the  accomplishment  of  the  deed,  neverthe- 
less, urged  on  by  the  feeling  of  duty,  he  would 
have  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost  to  over- 
come the  obstacle  of  his  nature  lie,  and  to  ar- 
rive at  the  end  and  aim  of  his  task.  He  would, 
at  least  have  had  to  form,  even  if  only  tempo- 
rarily, an  honestly  intended  resolution  to  earn- 
estly take  the  fulfilment  of  the  revenge  in 
hand.  In  a  word,  Hamlet  would  have  had  to 
manifest  the  will  and  inclination  to  accom- 


plish the  task.  He  would  have  had  to  fix  his 
eye  on  this,  even  if  without  any  settled  plan, 
nevertheless  as  an  end.  Now  the  play  furnishes 
a  number  of  expressions  and  acts  of  Hamlet, 
which,  at  first  sight,  might  be  taken  for  just 
such  intentions  and  attempts;  for  example,  the 
assumption  of  the  r61e  of  a  madman,  the 
presentation  of  the  play  before  the  king,  the 
impulse  to  kill  the  praying  king,  the  killing  of 
Polonius,  whom  he  apparently  considered  the 
king,4  and  several  expressions  in  the  solilo- 
quies which  seemed  to  indicate  the  forming  of 
a  resolution.  Goethe  appears,  in  fact,  to  have 
taken  these  actions  and  expressions  in  such 
a  sense,  when  he  speaks  of  Hamlet's  "vacillat- 
ing melancholy,"  his  "active  irresolution" 
(With.  Meist.  v,  6;  iv,  13;  v,  4).  All  who 
before,  or  since  Goethe,  have  written  on  Ham- 
let, have  likewise  shared  this  conception, 
which,  says  Loening,  is  incorrect.  Not  only 
this  view,  but  almost  all  those  that  have  thus 
far  been  expressed  must  be  discarded.  In 
truth  Hamlet  is  never  for  a  moment,  during 
the  entire  course  of  the  dramatic  action,  until 
immediately  before  the  close,  earnestly  deter- 
mined to  take  upon  himself  the  carrying  out  of 
the  revenge.  He  does  not  form  a  vigorous  reso- 
lution, and  he  does  not,  until  the  final  catas- 
trophe, undertake  a  single  act  with  the  inten- 
tion, that  it  shall  in  any  way  serve  him  in  the 
accomplishment  of  the  revenge.  He  not  only 
has  no  plan  for  exacting  vengeance,  but  re- 
venge is  not  his  aim.  This  is  a  cardinal  point 
for  the  understanding  of  the  piece. 

Having  thus  (in  Chap,  ii)  clearly  stated 
Goethe's  theory  of  Hamlet's  character  and  at 
the  same  time  pointed  out  its  defects,  Loening 
devotes  the  remainder  of  Part  i  to  the  discus- 
sion and  elucidation  of  the  various  theories 
which  critics,  since  Goethe's  time,  have  at- 
tempted to  establish.  One  by  one,  he  takes 
them  up  and  refutes  them  in  such  a  logical 
and  convincing  way,  that  one  finally  wonders 
what  direction  the  author's  own  theory  will 
take.  Space  will  not  permit  our  going  further 
into  the  details  of  the  interesting  discussions 
of  Part  i.  It  remains  to  say  a  few  words  in 
further  explanation  of  Loening's  conception  of 
Hamlet's  character,  as  stated  very  elabo- 

4  Cf.  on  this  point  an  exceedingly  interesting  article, 
"  Shakespeare  at  Elsinore,"  by  Jon  Stefansson. 


497          December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  Ne.  8.  498 


rately  in  the  first  chapters  of  Part  ii.  As 
a  very  fitting  transition  from  the  discussions  of 
the  first  part  of  the  book  to  those  of  the 
second,  the  author  has  in  Chapter  ix  summed 
up  the  results  and  conclusions  to  which  he  has 
been  led  by  a  careful  consideration  of  the 
German  Hamlet  criticism,  stating  the  real 
problem  from  his  own  standpoint  and  giving  a 
forecast  of  the  method  of  argumentation  pur- 
sued in  Part  ii. 

Chapter  ix  bears  the  title:  "  Hamlet  an  Un- 
solved Riddle;  Attacks  upon  its  Artistic  Value. 
Sursum  Corda/" 

If  we  cast  a  glance,  he  says  (p.  132),  at  the 
Hamlet  criticism  in  Germany,  as  we  have 
presented  it  to  the  reader  in  the  preceding 
chapters,  the  result  is  anything  but  satisfactory. 
After  the  tragedy  of  the  English  poet  had 
been  freed  from  the  crudest  disfigurations  by 
Goethe's  artistic  judgment  and  the  way  paved 
to  a  correct  knowledge,  the  work  of  a  century 
has  been  devoted  to  giving  to  the  nation 
a  clear  understanding  of  this  artistic  produc- 
tion. However,  as  we  have  seen,  they  have 
not  only  not  succeeded  in  reaching  their  end 
by  proceeding  along  the  path  struck  out  by 
Goethe,  but  all  their  attempts  to  approach  the 
same  along  other  ways  must  be  considered  as 
complete  failures.  Indeed  one  may  say  :  the 
more  criticism  has  deviated  from  Goethe's 
standpoint,  the  farther  it  has  wandered  from 
the  immanent  spirit  of  the  poem, — yea,  from 
the  spirit  of  all  true  poetry ;  the  more  it  has 
involved  itself  in  contradiction  with  itself  and 
with  poetry  in  general,  the  more  it  has  de- 
generated into  inartistic  fancyings.  And  the 
most  recent  attempts  at  explanation  are,  in 
general,  only  calculated  to  call  forth  ridicule 
and  satire.  Thus  up  to  the  present  day  Ham- 
let's character  has  not  been  explained,  the 
motives  for  his  demeanor,  the  consistency  of 
the  dramatic  action,  the  tragic  idea  of  the 
piece,  have  not  yet  been  clearly  understood. 
Hamlet  is  still,  as  in  Goethe's  time,  an  un- 
solved riddle. 

The  insufficiency  of  their  explanations  has 
often  enough  been  felt  to  a  greater  or  less 
degree  by  the  critics  themselves.  Evidence 
of  this  has  presented  itself  to  us  in  the 
fact,  that,  in  order  to  maintain  their  own 
explanations,  they  have  declared  the  hero  to 
be  wholly,  or,  at  least,  half  crazy  (cf.  p.  49  f.; 


67  f.).  The  validity  of  this  feeling  is  further 
shown  by  the  fact,  that  the  critics  were  fre- 
quently forced  to  acknowledge,  that  there  is, 
in  spite  of  all  explanation,  an  inexplicable  resi- 
due, as  well  in  the  character  of  the  hero  as  in 
the  consistency  of  the  dramatic  action, — a 
secret,  mysterious  obscurity  or  half-obscurity, 
in  which  the  profoundest  principles  of  the 
tragedy  lie  concealed.  However,  they  have 
tried  to  discover  just  here  an  especial  aesthetic 
excellence  of  the  play,  a  peculiarity  condi- 
tioned by  its  collective  character,  a  cause  of 
its  attractiveness,  and  indeed  of  its  wonderful 
truthfulness  to  nature.  They  claim  the  poet 
wished  to  create  a  mystery,  such  as  the  life  of 
man  itself  offers,  and  just  as  nature  envelops 
the  final  causes  of  things  in  an  impenetrable 
veil. 

To  be  sure,  life  offers  much  that  is  secret  and 
mysterious  to  him  who  stands  in  the  midst  of 
it,  and  who  does  not  understand  himself  per- 
fectly, and  studies  the  phenomena  about  him 
only  from  separate  sides,  without  being  able  to 
entirely  comprehend  their  connection.  The 
poet  who  wishes  to  give  in  his  productions 
an  image  of  life  cannot,  therefore,  with  pro- 
priety allow  such  a  mystery  to  rule  within  the 
world  created  by  himself, — mystery  especially 
for  the  people  of  this  world.  But  for  the  poet 
himself,  for  the  creator  of  this  world,  there 
can  be  nothing  secret  and  mysterious  in  it. 
He  knows  and  directs  everything,  and  there  is 
nothing  in  it,  which  does  not  issue  from  him. 
And  as  the  poet  himself  stands  outside  of  and 
over  the  world  as  created  by  himself,  so  he 
must  bring  the  hearer  and  reader  also  to  his 
standpoint.  For  inexplicable  mysteries  and 
unfathomable  secrets  there  is,  therefore,  abso- 
lutely no  place  in  an  artistic  dramatic  work 
which  really  deserves  the  name ;  and  of  that, 
such  a  master  of  the  dramatic  art  as  our  poet, 
was  conscious. 

"Shakespeare,"  says  Goethe, s  "follows  the 
Weltgeist;  he  interpenetrates  the  world,  as  the 
Weltgeist :  to  both  there  is  nothing  concealed  ; 
but  ifit  is  the  business  of  the  #W/£-«'.y/to  keep 
secrets  before, — indeed  often,  after  the  deed, 
then  it  is  the  desire  of  the  poet  to  divulge  the 
secret,  and  to  make  confidantes  of  us  before, 
or  at  any  rate  during  the  act.  .  .  .  The  secret 
must  out,  even  if  the  stones  are  to  reveal  it." 

And  does  not  the  poet  himself  cause  his  Ham- 

5  Cf.  Aufsatz,  Shaktspe*re  undkein  Ende,  I. 


249 


499 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


500 


let  to  say  to  the  actors  (iii,  2):  "The  players 
cannot  keep  counsel,  they'll  tell  all  ?  " 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  secrets  of 
nature,  which  no  one,  not  even  the  poet, 
can  penetrate.  However,  the  critics  have 
falsely  appealed  to  this  principle  in  order 
to  justify  the  supposed  mysterious  element  in 
our  tragedy.  We  do  not  at  all  have  to  deal  here 
with  such  unsearchable  secrets  of  nature,  with 
the  final  causes  of  things  ;  but  that  which  has 
remained  mysterious  to  criticism,  has  reference 
to  the  constitution  of  human  characters  and 
the  motives  of  human  actions:  things  which  for 
the  poet,  who  is  ever  to  be  found  in  the  inner 
constitution  of  his  characters,  can  and  dare 
not  be  a  secret,  if  his  characters  are  to  count 
for  real  human  beings.  If,  however,  in  our 
tragedy  the  final,  mysterious  questions  about 
existence  are  now  and  then  touched  upon, 
these  questions  do  not  constitute  the  unsolva- 
ble  subject  of  the  piece,  but  the  subject  of 
consideration  of  individual  persons  of  the 
same,  and  they  serve  solely  for  the  charac- 
terization of  these  persons. 

We  shall,  therefore,  in  the  mean  while  hold 
fast  to  the  belief,  that  we  have  before  us  in 
Hamlet,  in  spite  of  all,  a  great  and  real  trag- 
edy ;  that  the  supposed  contradictions  and 
obscurities  rest  upon  misunderstandings  ;  and 
that  the  fault  is  in  ourselves,  if  plan  and  idea 
of  the  piece  have  thus  far  remained  hidden  to 
us. 

The  first  three  chapters  of  Part  ii  are  given 
up  to  a  thorough  analysis,  both  psychological 
and  physiological,  of  Hamlet's  character.  In 
Chap,  x  the  author  considers  what  to  him  are 
the  three  determining  features  of  the  hero's 
character :  (i)  Hamlet's  melancholy  tempera- 
ment ;  (2)  The  choleric  element  in  Hamlet,  (3) 
Hamlet's  disposition  and  moral  character. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  without  going  into  the  minu- 
tiae of  Loening's  most  thorough  and  searching 
analysis,  that  he  finds  the  grounds  for  Ham- 
let's delay  in  executing  vengeance  for  his 
father's  death  in  the  first  two  of  these  charac- 
teristic elements ;  namely,  in  his  melancholy 
temperament  and  choleric  disposition.  In  the 
author's  careful  examination  of  Hamlet's  tem- 
perament both  from  the  physiological  and 
psychological  side,  we  are  made  to  see  more 
clearly  than  ever  how  all  the  critics  of  the  past 


have    misunderstood    the    true    character    of 
Shakespeare's  great  creation.     Loening  shows 
by  a  large  number  of  quotations  from  the  play, 
that  Shakespeare  really  intended  to  delineate^ 
a  melancholy  character  in  the  person  of  Ham-  / 
let. 

In  discussing  the  physical  feature  of  Ham- 
let's disposition  or  temperament,  and  what 
importance  the  melancholy  temperament  of  a 
man  may  have  in  a  practical  way,  and  what 
influence  it  exercises  over  the  volitions  and 
actions,  he  says,  among  other  things  (p.  157), 

"The  temperament  rests  on  the  physical  condi- 
tion, on  the  corporeal  constitution  of  man ; 
and  this  it  is  which  determines  the  influence  of 
temperament  upon  action.  This  is  fully  recog- 
nized in  Shakespeare's  works  and  given  its 
full  value.  All  of  his  psychology  rests  upon  a 
physiological  basis.  .  .  .  Shakespeare  considers 
the  blood  to  be  that  component  of  the  bodily 
organism,  which  preeminently  determines  hu- 
man feeling.  From  the  blood  proceed,  ac- 
cording to  Shakespeare,  all  the  feelings,  in- 
clinations, desires  and  motives.  For  him  the 
blood  is  the  special  source  and  seat  of  the 
passions,  and  he,  therefore,  frequently  employs 
the  word  "blood"  in  the  designation  of  the 
affections  of  the  soul.  Balanced  against  the 
blood — nature,  the  sensitive  faculty, — stands 
the  brain,  reason  or  judgment,  that  is,  the 
sum  of  the  mental  and  moral  forces  in  man, 
through  which  he  is  enabled  to  check  and 
control  the  desires  and  passions  of  the  blood. 
.  .  .  And  it  may  easily  be  shown  how  the  whole 
tragic  plan  of  our  poet  rests  upon  this  contrast 
between  blood  and  judgment,  between  nature 
and  reason.  It  depends  on  the  condition  of 
the  blood  how  and  what  the  man  feels,  what 
inclinations  and  disinclinations — whether  mo- 
tives to,  or  hindrances  of  action — arise  in 
him." 

Of  the  physical  peculiarities  which  evidence 
a  melancholy  disposition,  Loening  emphasizes 
especially  Hamlet's  stoutness  or  rather  fatness. 
When  Hamlet  compares  the  dissimilarity  be- 
tween his  uncle  and  father,  with  that  between 
himself  and  Hercules,^  he  evidently  refers,  as 
Loening  rightly  says,  to  the  inner  character- 
istics of  the  two  men, — the  contrast  between 
the  noble  and  the  common.  And  there  is  no 
good  reason  for  assuming  with  most  critics 
that  Hamlet  means  here  his  own  insignificance 
in  strength  and  size  of  body  as  compared  with 
Hercules  (p.  177  f.). 

6  Cf.  Act  i,  a:  "But  no  more  like  my  father  than  I  to.  Her. 
cules.  " 


250 


5oi          December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.  502 


Hamlet  evidently  lacked,  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  the  strength  and  durability 
necessary  for  great  physical  exertion,  and  the 
poet  has  given  certain  hints  which  point  di- 
rectly to  this  as  a  fact.  Especially  to  be  con- 
sidered here  are  Hamlet's  utterances  in  i,  4, 
where  Horatio  will  prevent  him  from  following 
the  ghost,  and  he  shouts  in  the  highest  pitch  of 
excitement : 

"  My  fate  cries  out ; 

And  makes  each  petty  artery  in  this  body, 
As  hardy  as  the  Nemean  lion's  nerve;  " 

and  in  i,  5  after  the  ghost  has  vanished,  he 
says : 

"  Hold,  hold,  my  heart ; 
And  you,  my  sinews,  grow  not  instant  old, 
But  bear  me  stiffly  up. — Remember  thee  ! 
Ay,  thou  poor  Ghost,  while  memory  holds  a  seat 
In  this  distracted  globe."? 

The  first  utterance  shows  how  Hamlet  ex- 
periences a  strengthening  or  tension  of  his 
internal  organs  from  the  momentary  impulse 
of  exceedingly  exciting  impressions;  the  second 
how,  witli  the  removal  or  abating  of  the  ex- 
citing impressions,  the  feeling  of  strength 
gradually  vanishes,  and  a  sort  of  relaxation 
and  exhaustion  comes  over  him,  as  if  he  had 
suddenly  grown  old.  The  queen,  who  is 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  naturelle  of 
her  son,  speaks  to  the  point  in  v,  i,  at  the 
grave  of  Ophelia,  where  Hamlet  falls  into  a 
vehement  quarrel  with  Laertes  : 

"This  is  mere  madness: 
And  thus  awhile  the  fit  will  work  on  him  ; 
Anon,  as  patient  as  the  female  dove, 
When  that  her  golden  couplets  are  disclosed, 
His  silence  will  sit  drooping." 

This  passage  has  reference  principally  to  the- 
excitability  of  Hamlet's  inner  nature,  but  at 
the  same  time,  the  words  "his  silence  will  sit 
drooping  "  show  that  the  relaxation  of  this  ex- 
citement rests  on  physical  exhaustion  (p.  179). 
Still  another  and  more  important  character- 
istic of  Hamlet  in  this  connection  is  his  much 
discussed  and  debated  "fatness"  and  "scan- 
tiness of  breath."  Whoever  will  read  care- 
fully what  Loening  says  on  this  point  (pp.  180- 
182),  together  with  the  references  in  the  play 
itself,  can  no  longer  doubt  that  Shakespeare 
meant  exactly  the  v/ords  he  puts  into  the 
mouth  of  the  queen,  v,  2 ;  "  Hee's  fat  and 

7  Quoted  from  Hudson's  Hamlet. 


scant  of  breath,"  which  expression  is  con- 
tained both  in  the  second  Quarto  of  1604,  and 
in  the  first  Folio  of  1623.8  '*  's  rather  strange 
that  some  critics  and  actors,  in  the  face  of  the 
undoubted  authority  given  to  the  word  "  fat  " 
by  the  fact  of  its  occurrence  in  two  of  the 
three  earliest  editions  of  Hamlet,  persist  in 
reading  and  speaking  "  He's  faint  and  scant 
of  breath."  Had  Mr.  Beerbohm  Tree  read 
these  few  pages  of  Loening's  book,  he  would 
hardly  have  said  :  "  I  take  it  that  Shakespeare 
wrote  '  Our  son  is  faint  and  scant  of  breath,' 
and  so  it  is  spoken  on  our  stage, "9  and  then 
have  attempted  to  prove  from  the  following 
dialogue  between  the  King,  Queen  and  Laertes 
that  "faint"  is  correct,  whereas  the  same 
dialogue  can  be  much  more  forcibly  used  to 
show  that  the  word  could  be  nothing  else  but 
"fat."  The  most  recent  conjecture  for  the 
poet's  own  word  is  "  flat,"  while  "  faint  "  and 
"  hot  "  have  been  going  the  rounds  in  Shakes- 
peare literature  for  years  (cf.  p.  180,  n.  59). 
That  Hamlet  was  "  fat  " — not  so  much  bulk  of 
body,  as  internal  fatness,  "fatness  of  the 
heart "  is  most  probably  the  proper  conception 
of  the  prince — we  are  lead  to  believe  by 
several  references  to  his  daily  habits  and  cus- 
toms, which  occur  in  the  play  itself.  In  ii,  2, 
Polonius  says  to  the  king  : 

"  You  know,  sometimes  he  walks  for  hours  together 
Here  in  the  lobby," 

and  the  Queen  in  affirmation, 

"  So  he  does  indeed." 

And  in  v,  2,  Hamlet  says  to  the  king:  "Sir, 
I  will  walk  here  in  the  hall :  if  it  please  his 
Majesty,  'tis  the  breathing-time  of  day  with 
me."  Then  we  are  informed  in  ii,  2  and  v,  2, 
that  he  is  accustomed  to  take  regular  fencing 
exercises.  And  the  very  regularity  of  the 
recreations  points  to  the  fact,  that  they  are  in- 
tended to  give  the  necessary  exercise  without 
especial  exertion  to  a  man  who,  on  account  of 
his  quiet  manner  of  life,  is  inclined  to  stoutness 
(cf.  p.  182). 

Other  characteristics  which  point  to  the 
melancholy  temperament  of  Hamlet  are  his 
tendency  to  Fatalism,  and  the  making  known 

8  Cf.    Shakespeare   Reprints.      Hamlet  ed.  by    Wilhelm 
Victor,  Ph.  D.,  Marburg,  1891. 

9  Cf.   "  Hamlet— From   an   Actor's  Prompt  Book,"  Fort- 
nightly Review,  Dec.  '95. 


251 


503         December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


504 


of  his  sorrows  and  displeasure  to  those  about 
him — not  by  complaining,  but  by  harsh  judg- 
ment of  whatever  pains  or  injures  him.  More- 
^"bver  his  desire  to  be  alone  and  his  frequent 
soliloquizing  and  tendency  to  ironical  expres- 
sions, are  universal  characteristics  of  the  mel- 
ancholy man  or  woman. 

Hamlet  is,  however,  not  to  be  considered  the 
"  hero  of  thought,"  "the  prince  of  speculative 
philosophy,"  the  "digging"  student  who  is 
only  at  home  in  the  sphere  of  the  intellect  (cf. 
pp.  188-9).  He  is,  in  fact,  not  at  all  the  pure 
thinker,  philosopher,  or  scholar,  as  most  crit- 
ics have  considered  him.  Hamlet  is  thought- 
ful, but  his  thinking  never  has  reference  to 
purely  abstract,  intellectual  matters,  but  exclu- 
sively to  real  phenomena.  He  does  not  specu- 
late about  the  finar  causes  of  all  existence,  a- 
bout  the  mysteries  of  the  universe,  but  he  halts 
in  the  face  of  these  questions.  When  he  speaks 
of  the  "  to  be,  or  not  to  be  "  in  the  famous  so- 
liloquy, iii,  i,  that  is  not  philosophising,  but 
simply  the  expression  of  his  sad,  ironical  dis- 
position ;  and  when  he  asks  "  in  that  sleep  of 
death  what  dreams  may  come,"  he  does  not 
thereby  wish  to  make  an  examination  of  this 
question, but  he  wishes  solely  to  indicate  the  rea- 
son why  philosophers  have  so  little  fear  of  death. 
The  dreams  themselves  are  to  him  the  things 
"that  we  know  not  of,"  and  he  makes  no  at- 
tempt to  press  the  question  further.  His  utter- 
ances on  this  point  have  nothing  whatever  to 
do  with  philosophic,  abstract  thinking,  as  has 
been  so  frequently  asserted.  Hamlet's  mind 
is  not  consistent  and  methodical  in  its  thinking, 
does  not  firmly  retain  matters  in  question,  until 
their  causes  have  been  sought  out;  but  it  de- 
lights in  changing  the  subject  of  consideration, 
and  springs  easily  from  one  subject  to  another. 
The  great  instability  of  his  mind  and  his  easily 
excitable  imagination,  only  permit  him  to  fol- 
low each  object  in  thought  until  it  is  forced  out 
again  by  new  impressions.  Above  all,  Ham- 
let's method  of  thought  is — in  opposition  to  all 
philosophy — wholly  under  the  influence  of  his 
naturelle,  his  natural  inclinations  and  disincli- 
nations, which  even  force  the  understanding  to 
find  such  causes  as  are  likely  to  satisfy  it  and 
drown  the  voice  of  reason.  Least  of  all  is  Ham- 
let a  scholastic  philosopher.  He  speaks  of  phi- 
losophy in  only  two  places  :  i,  5,  he  says  to 


Horatio,  in  reference  to  the  latter's  astonish- 
ment at  the  subterranean  voice  of  the  ghost, 
"There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth, 
Horatio,  than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philoso- 
phy." The  other  passage  is  in  ii,  2,  where,  in 
speaking  of  the  fickleness  of  man  to  Rosen- 
crantz  and  Guildenstern,  he  uses  the  words  : 
"  'Sblood,  there  is  something  in  this  more  than 
natural,  if  philosophy  could  find  it  out." 

Thus  in  refuting  the  Goethean  idea  that 
Hamlet  was  too  much  of  a  thinker  and  philos- 
opher, to  be  an  energetic  man  of  action, 
Loening  has  shown  quite  conclusively  that  the 
real  cause  of  his  inaction  is  to  be  found  in  his") 
naturelle,  especially  in  his  melancholy  temper-_J 
ament  and  choleric  disposition.  In  commen- 
ting on  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  Hamlet's 
nature,  in  the  second  of  a  series  of  articles  on 
"  Hamlet  and  Robert  Essex, "«>  Hermann  Con- 
rad speaks  in  terms  of  the  highest  praise  of 
Loening's  splendid  work,  though  he  does  not 
agree  with  him  fully  in  his  detailed  analysis  of 
the  hero's  naturelle.™  And  no  higher  praise 
could  be  found  than  a  paragraph  from  a  re- 
view of  Loening's  work  by  the  celebrated  phi- 
losopher and  critic,  Kuno  Fischer,12  which  we 
give  here  in  the  original : 

"In  seinem  unlangst  veroffentlichten  VVerk 
hat  Richard  Loening  umfassender,  griind- 
licher,  in  das  Ganze  und  jeden  seiner  Theile 
eindringender,  als  es  vor  ihm  geschehen  ist, 
diese  Fragen  zu  losen  versucht.  Der  sehr  be- 
trachtliche  Umfang  des  Werkes,  die  Fiille  des 
darin  enthaltenen  wohlgeordneten  Materials 
zeigt,  dass  wir  es  mit  der  Frucht  rnehrjahriger 
Studien  zu  thun  haben.  Schon  dadurch  ist 
der  Verfasser,  gelehrter  Jurist  von  Fach  und 
Beruf,  gegen  den  Vorwurf  des  Dilettantismus 
geschiitzt,  wie  er  es  auch  in  der  Vorrede  mit 
dem  berechtigten  Bewusstsein  seiner  Arbeit 
und  Forschung  selbst  ausspricht.  Es  hat 
iibrigens  noch  nie  einem  Werke  zum  Nach- 
theile  gereicht,  wenn  es  aus  der  freiesten,  von 
allem  Berufszwange  unabhangigen  Neigung 
entsprungen  ist.  Dies  gilt  von  dem  Loening'- 
schen  Buch.  Das  selbe  ist  mit  einer  so  geord- 
neten  und  (ibersichtliche  Sachkenntniss  ges- 
chrieben,  dass  es  zwar  nicht  den  beabsichtig- 
ten,  abfler  keineswegs  unwichtigen  Nebenzweck 

10  Preussische  jfahrbticher,  Juli,  1895. 

11  Cf.  Prcuss.  Jahrb.,  p.  107. 

12  "  Ein  neues  werk  uber  Hamlet  und  das  Hamlet-Prob- 
lem "  in  der  Beilage  zur  Miinchner  Allgeitteiner  Zeitung  for 
1894.     Nos.  57,  58,  60. 


252 


505          December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.          506 


erfiillt,  zugleich  ein  brauchbares  Repertorium 
der  Hamlet  Literatur  zu  sein."'3 

A  well-known  German  professor  and  English 
philologist  remarked  one  day,  just  after  the 
appearance  of  ten  Brink's  F'itnf  Vorlesungen 
uber  Shaksperc,  in  the  course  of  a  lecture  on 
Shakespeare,  that  this  little  book  contained 
the  only  things  worth  remembering  that  had 
ever  been  said  about  the  great  English  bard. 
While  this  remark  may  justly  be  considered 
an  exaggeration  by  Shakespeare  students,  it 
is  nevertheless  true  that  every  sentence  in 
the  book  is  well  worth  remembering  by  all 
lovers  of  the  literary  and  esthetic  beauties  of 
Shakespeare's  language.  No  one  else  has 
written  so  valuable  an  estimate  of  the  man 
and  his  work  in  so  few  words.  It  is,  at  the 
same  time,  an  interesting  biography  and  an  in- 
spiring literary  criticism.  Strange  to  say,  in- 
spite  of  the  fact  that  Shakespeare  was  ever 
ten  Brink's  special  favorite  in  the  field  of  liter- 
ature, he  had  no  other  opportunity  of  saying 
and  showing  to  the  world  how  much  he  loved 
him  and  his  works,  than  in  these  five  lectures, 
which  he  delivered  before  some  institute  in 
Frankfurt  a.  M.,  in  the  months  of  February  and 
March,  1888.  Up  to  the  day  of  his  untimely 
and  most  unfortunate  death  in  1891,  he  was  too 
exclusively  occupied  with  the  earlier  periods 
of  English  literature,  especially  with  Chaucer 
and  his  time,  to  devote  much  of  his  attention 
to  Shakespeare,  and  his  excellent  History  of 
English  Literature  was  completed  about  to 
the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century. 

The  present  little  volume  contains  these  five 
essays  as  delivered  in  Frankfurt,  together  with 
a  likeness  of  ten  Brink,  and  a  short  introduc- 
tion by  Prof.  Edward  Schroeder  of  Marburg, 
who  arranged  the  matter  for  publication  after 
the  death  of  the  author.  No  attempt  will  be 
made  here  to  criticise  the  matter  of  the  essays, 
but  they  are  herewith  most  enthusiastically 
recommended  to  the  careful  reading  of  every 
student  and  lover  of  Shakespeare.  An  Eng- 
lish translation  of  the  book  was  published  by 
Henry  Holt  &  Co.  in  1895. 

Not  long  after  the  death  often  Brink  in  Ger- 

13  Since  the  above  was  written,  Fischer  has  published  a 
large  volume  on  Hamlet ;  Kleine  Schriften.  5.  Shake  spe  ar  t' s 
Hamlet  von  Kuno  Fischer.  Heidelberg:  Carl  Winter,  1896. 
8vo.  pp.  329.  In  this  study  he  discusses  Loening's  views  at 
length. 


many,  England  also  suffered  the  loss  of  one  of 
her  most  interesting  and  enthusiastic  historians 
of  English  literature  in  the  person  of  Prof. 
Henry  Morley.  In  vol.  x  of  his  English  Writ- 
ers, he  has  given  to  the  world  an  exceedingly 
readable  and  valuable  biography  of  that  part 
of  Shakespeare's  life  which  fell  under  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth.  He  has  not  only  brought 
together  here  all  the  available  facts  and  cur- 
rent legends  about  the  poet's  comparatively 
unknown  private  life,  but  he  has  more  especi- 
ally attempted  to  give  us  a  true  conception  of 
the  time  in  which  Shakespeare  lived  and 
worked.  Morley  gives,  moreover,  a  sort  of 
literary  biography  of  all  Shakespeare's  con- 
temporaries, who  were  in  any  way  connected 
with  the  great  poet's  life  and  works.  We  get 
here,  as  probably  nowhere  else,  a  clear  idea  of 
how  much  Shakespeare  was  really  indebted  to 
the  influence  of  English  contemporary  litera- 
ture ;  we  are  made  to  see  just  how  he  utilized 
scenes,  events,  and  characters  of  men  like 
Peele,  Greene,  Nash,  Marlowe,  Kyd,  and  a 
host  of  others  in  the  re-working  and  writing  of 
the  dramas  that  bear  his  own  name. 

Vol.  xi  of  the  English  Writers  series  was 
left  incomplete  by  Morley.  We  are  informed 
by  the  editor  of  the  book,  Prof.  W.  Hall 
Griffin,  in  his  preface,  that  Morley  had  com- 
pleted the  first  eight  chapters,  and  that  chap- 
ters ix-xiii  only  needed  arranging  and  a  few 
corrections,  while  the  last  chapter  (xiv)  was 
written  entirely  by  Prof.  Griffin.  After  this  the 
editor  has  given  a  list  of  all  the  authorities 
used  or  referred  to  in  the  book.  This  biblio- 
graphical list  extends  through  about  one  hun- 
dred pages,  and  to  this  is  added  a  very  con- 
venient index. 

This  volume  which  bears  the  title:  "Shakes- 
peare and  His  Time:  Under  James  I,"  is 
simply  a  continuation  of  vol.  x.  In  it  the  later 
years  of  the  poet's  life  are  treated  in  the  same 
interesting,  comparative  way,  as  the  earlier 
ones  had  been.  And  the  contemporaries  of 
Shakespeare's  last  days  claim  especial  atten- 
tion. 

Prof.  Brandl  has  produced  an  exceedingly 
interesting  hand-book  on  Shakespeare,  pub- 
lished as  vol.  vi,  in  the  series  of  Fuhrende 
Geister.  Though  the  book  was  written  for  the 
German  reading  public,  American  and  Eng- 


253 


5°7 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


508 


lish  students  will  find  in  it  a  vast  deal  of  in- 
terest and  importance.  The  poet's  life  history 
is  well  given  as  far  as  it  has  any  basis  in  known 
facts,  but  theories  founded  on  doubtful  legends 
find  no  place  in  this  estimate  of  Brandl.  Fol- 
lowing somewhat  in  the  line  of  Dowden  in  his 
Shakespeare  Primer  and  his  Shakespeare: 
His  Life,  Art  and  Mind,  Brandl  divides  the 
active  literary  life  of  the  poet  into  convenient 
periods;  each  period  taking  its  name  from  the 
most  important  play  or  class  of  writings,  that 
appear  in  it.  For  instance,  after  the  first  two 
periods,  which  the  author  very  fitly  names  the 
Stratforder  Jugendjahre  and  the  Londoner 
Lehrjahre  respectively,  in  the  latter  of  which 
Shakespeare's  earliest  productions  of  whatever 
sort  are  discussed,  we  have :  the  Falstaff- 
Periode,  the  Hamlet- Periode,  the  Lear-Per- 
iode,  and  the  Romanzen.  Under  the  period 
in  which  each  play  is  considered,  is  a  brief 
description  of  the  origin  and  sources  of  the 
play,  together  with  the  dates  of  the  different 
editions  of  the  same.  One  also  finds  here, 
written  very  concisely,  the  author's  own  es- 
thetic and  literary  estimate  of  the  more  im- 
portant characters  of  the  various  productions. 
At  the  end  of  the  work  an  appendix  is  added, 
in  which  the  books  of  most  importance  to  the 
Shakespeare  student  are  given,  and  the  es- 
pecial merits  of  each  are  indicated  by  a  few 
words. 

The  most  recent  work  on  Shakespeare,  and 
the  one  which,  at  the  same  time,  promises  the 
most  thorough  and  attractive  consideration  of 
the  poet  from  a  literary  and  esthetic  point  of 
view,  is  from  the  pen  of  the  noted  Danish  critic 
and  litterateur,  George  Brandes.  The  work 
bears  the  simple  title  William  Shakespearean^ 
is  appearing^  in  instalments  from  the  press  of 
Albert  Langen,  Paris  and  Leipzig.  There  are  to 
be  about  a  dozen  of  these  instalments,  of  which 
ten  have  already  appeared,  each  containing 
eighty  pages.  Brandes's  special  merit  in  this 
work  is  his  establishing  more  nearly  than  has 
yet  been  done,  the  chronological  order  of 
Shakespeare's  productions.  He  attempts  also 
to  trace  the  life  of  the  poet  as  man, and  his  genius 
as  writer  in  gradual  stages  of  development  in 
the  works  themselves.  While  directing  his  at- 

14  Since  the  above  was  written  Brandes's  work  has  been 
completed. 


tention  to  the  interesting  historical  develop- 
ment of  the  man  and  poet,  he  introduces  inci- 
dentally, as  it  were,  the  most  beautiful  and 
charming  descriptions  of  Shakespeare's  indi- 
vidual characters.  Brandes's  discussions  of 
these  various  characters  contain  all  the  finer 
esthetic  estimates,  which  are  to  be  found  in 
Gervinus,  Hudson,  or  Dowden,  combined  with 
the  data  necessary  to  give  the  most  satisfying 
picture  of  the  world's  great  poet. 

WM.  H.  HULME. 
Western  Reserve  University. 


GERMAN  LITER  A  TURE. 

Aufsatze  iiber  Mlirchen  und  Volkslieder  von 
REINHOLD  KOHLER.  Aus  seinem  hand- 
schriftlichen  Nachlass  herausgegeben  von 
JOHANNES  BOLTE  und  ERICH  SCHMIDT. 
Berlin:  VVeidmannsche  Buchhandlung,  1894. 
8vo,  pp.  152. 

JOHANNES  BOLTE  and  Erich  Schmidt  have 
taken  upon  themselves  the  grateful  task  of 
editing  six  essays  on  folklore  by  Reinhold 
Kohler.  They  were  originally  lectures,  or 
rather,  as  the  editors  put  it,  "schlichte  ver- 
gleichende  Mitteilungen,"  delivered  before  the 
Mittwochs-  or  Schlusselverein  at  Weimar.  As 
only  the  first  has  ever  been  printed  before1  the 
book  is  most  welcome.  The  editors  have 
added  notes  and  references,  and  we  find  by 
way  of  introduction  to  the  whole  work  a  sympa- 
thetic essay  on  Kohler  by  Erich  Schmidt.2  As 
Kohler's  work  has  proved  so  important  to 
folklore,  I  may  be  pardoned  for  mentioning 
the  main  facts  of  Schmidt's  introduction. 

Kohler  was  born  in  Weimar  in  1830  and 
died  there  in  1892  as  Oberbibliothekar.  His 
simple  and  uneventful  life  was  entirely  devoted 
to  scholarship.  At  the  university  he  studied 
philology  under  Diez,  Hand,  Hoffmann  (the 
Orientalist^,  and  others.  He  cannot  be  said  to 
have  had  a  great  constructive  mind,  but  by  his 
editions,  his  reviews,  his  short  essays,  he  made 
himself  felt  in  many  different  branches  of  phil- 
ological work,  especially  in  folklore.  He  was 
originally  a  classical  philologist,  then  did 
valuable  work  in  German  literature  (on  Les- 

1  Cf.  Weimarischt  Beitriige  zur  Litteratur  und  Kunst, 
1865. 

2  Sec,  too,  Schmidt's  remarks  on  him  in  the  Goethe-Jahr- 
buch,  xiv,  297. 


254 


December,  iS96.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8. 


sing,  Goethe,  Schiller,  Wieland,  Herder,  Bur- 
ger, Z.  Werner,  H.  v.  Kleist,  also  on  H.  Sachs, 
Moscherosch,  Gritnmelshausen,  Shakspeare 

in  Germany),  furthermore  in  English  literature, 
especially  on  Chaucer,  and  made  some  contri- 
butions to  our  knowledge  of  Boccaccio  and 
Dante.  His  special  field,  however,  was  folk- 
lore, and  his  erudition  in  that  field  was  almost 
phenomenal.  Erich  Schmidt  once  speaks  of 
him  (in  the  notes  to  his  essay  on  '  Lenore'), 
as  "  der  auf  diesem  Gebiete  allkundige  R. 
Kohler." 

The  first  essay  of  the  book,  Ueber  enropii- 
ische  Marchen,  has  been  much  used  and 
quoted  ;  so,  for  instance,  in  commentaries  on 
Goethe's  Faust,  because  of  Margaret's  song 
in  the  prison  scene.  It  contains  a  short  survey 
of  all  valuable  collections  of  Volksmiirchen 
made  before  the  appearance  of  the  Grimms' 
Kinder-  und  Hausm'irchen  (1812).  It  is  re- 
markable to  see  (p.  17)  how  men  like  Wieland 
(in  1786)  and  Kotzebue  (in  1791)  could  speak  in 
disparaging  terms  of  popular  tales,  at  a  time 
when  Herder  had  made  all  progressive  minds 
aware  of  the  value  of  popular  ballads  and 
lyrics.  The  chief  aim  of  the  essay  is,  how- 
ever, to  show  the  wanderings  of  certain  tales 
throughout  Asia  and  Europe.  Kohler  men- 
tions the  fact  that  the  great  diversity  of  sub- 
jects which  strikes  the  student  of  popular 
tales  is  not  real,  and  all  the  stories  we  have 
are  variations  on  a  few  themes.  He  agrees 
with  Benfey  in  believing  that  a  large  number 
of  stories  came  from  India  and  spread  from 
there,  especially  after  the  Mohamedan  con- 
quests in  the  East,  or  in  a  roundabout  way 
through  the  Mongols.  Many  such  stories  were 
made  familiar  to  the  West  particularly  by 
Boccaccio  and  Straparola.  Hence  traces  of 
old  Germanic  influence  can  be  proved  in  com- 
paratively few  cases. — The  whole  theory  of 
the  spread  of  popular  tales  is  finely  illustrated 
by  the  wanderings  of  '  Der  tretie  Johannes  ' 
(Grimm,  No.  6). 

The  second  essay,  Eingemauerte  Menschen, 
treats  of  the  belief  current  in  many  parts  of 
Germany  that  human  beings  were  walled  into 
the  foundations  of  castles,  or  bridges.  Kohler 
also  quotes  Servian,  Armenian,  Hungarian 
and  Greek  songs  based  on  this  belief,  some 
of  which  are  remarkable  for  power.  In  many, 
birds  play  an  important  part.  The  nightingale 
appears  as  a  messenger,  as  it  does  in  the 
popular  poetry  of  almost  all  nations. 3 

Delicious  naivete"  characterizes  the  stories 
dealing  with  St. Peter  (third  essay).  He  is  either 
made  fun  of  or  reminded  of  his  own  shortcom- 
ings on  earth  by  souls  wishing  to  enter  Para- 
dise. Stories  about  St.  Peter  were  used  by 
Burger,  Schubart,  Voss,  H.  von  Kleist,  Halm. 
Kohler  exhibits  literary  sense  in  his  appreci- 
ative treatment  of  the  popular  ballads  and 
tales  he  discusses  in  the  essay  entitled  Die 
sprechende  Harfe.  Generally  the  idea  under- 
lies the  stories,  that  from  the  bones  of  a  mur- 
dered person  a  harp  was  made  which  when 


played,  betrayed  the  murderer.  The  Icelandic 
ballad  (p.  85)  has  wonderful  force.  InGeibel's 
Jlalladcn  voin  I'agcn  mid  der  Konigstochter 
u  c  find  the  same  idea  in  a  somewhat  changed 
form.  The  sly  seriousness  underlying  many 
products  of  the  popular  mind  delightfully 
comes  out  in  the  tales  on  good  and  bad  luck 
in  the  fifth  essay  (  Von  (iluck  und  Ungluck). 
The  belief  that  the  lucky  remain  lucky  even 
against  their  will  and  that  the  unlucky  cannot 
improve  their  condition  in  spite  of  great  efforts 
is  especially  well  illustrated  by  some  Italian  and 
Servian  tales.  In  the  last  essay  (Das  Hentddes 
Glltcklicheti),  Kohler  traces  with  admirable 
erudition  and  versatility  the  different  forms  of  a 
wide  spread  story  in  which  a  sick  man,  gener- 
ally in  high  station,  could  be  cured  by  the  shirt 
of  a  perfectly  happy  person.  After  a  long  fruit- 
less quest,  a  happy  man  is  found, — but  he  is  too 
poor  to  own  a  shirt.  This  story  is  found  in 
Tunis  among  the  people,  and  in  modern  times 
has  been  used  with  variations  by  different 
writers,  among  them  Daru  (of  Goethe  fame), 
Walter  Scott  in  The  Search  after  Happiness 
or  The  Quest  of  Sultan  So/imauand  by  W.  G. 
in  the  Fliegende  Blatter,  Ixxv,  149.  Kohler 
adds  other  stories  which  preach  contentment 
by  showing  that  nobody  is  perfectly  happy. 
He  mentions  a  Hindoo  legend  about  Buddha, 
first  published  by  Max  Mu'ller  in  1869,  a  story 
in  Lucian,  one  in  a  letter  of  Emperor  Julian  to 
Amerios.one  in  the  Pseudo-Kallisthenes,  one  in 
Ser  Giovanni 's  Pecorone.  This  last-  mentioned 
story  inspired  Mrs.  Eliza  Haywood  in  The 
Fruitless  Enquiiy  or  Search  After  H.ippiness 
(London :  1747).  The  book  closes  with  a 
valuable  bibliography  of  Kohler's  writings. 

C.  VON  KLENZE. 
University  of  Chicago. 


CORRESPONDENCE. 


CHAUCER  7.V  ITALY. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS: — I  noticed  too  late  for  insertion  in  my 
paper  of  your  last  number,  that  the  Foreign 
Accounts  roll  printed  by  me  is  described  in 
the  Chauc.  Soc.  Trial  Forewords  to  Minor 
Poems,  p.  130.  I  quote  the  description  in  full. 
"  1374  or  3.  Exc.  L.  T.  R.  Foreign  Accounts, 
47  Ed.  3,  Roll  3.  C'.s  accounts  for  his 
journeys  to  Genoa  and  Florence,  from  i  Dec. 
1372  to  23  May  1373."  This  misleading  de- 
scription by  which  the  dates  appear  to  apply 
to  the  accounts  and  not  to  the  journeys — it 
may  be  a  mere  matter  of  punctuation — is  re- 
sponsible for  the  form  of  Professor  Skeat's 
note  (Oxford  Chaucer  i,  p.  xxiv,  note  67). 

Dr.  Furnivall  writes  me  that  this  roll  with 
others  is  one  he  has  long  intended  to  print  in 
Life  Records.  The  interest  of  the  roll,  and 

3  Cf  Bflckel,  Deutscht  Volksliedtr  aus  Okerftessen,  p. 
Ixxxviii. 


255 


December,  1896.     MODERN  LANGUAGE  NOTES.     Vol.  xi,  No.  8.          512 


its  immediate  bearing  upon  the  Chaucer- 
Petrarch  problem  which  I  have  been  long 
studying,  will  justify  a  double  publication,  or- 
dinarily unnecessary.  I  trust  the  Foreign  Ac- 
counts roll  for  the  second  Italian  journey  may 
soon  be  printed,  separately,  if  the  Life  Records 
hang  fire. 

In  my  communication  to  The  Nation  of  Oct. 
8th,  I  have  possibly  made  too  much  of  the 
Second  Italian  journey  as  the  real  beginning 
of  Chaucers  "Italian  Period."  I  still  think 
the  theory  probable — but  post  hoe's  are  spe- 
cious. Chaucer's  "Italian  Period"  means  to 
me  the  time  when  Italian  influence  was  forma- 
tive in  his  works ;  at  an  earlier  time  Chaucer 
may  have  known  something  of  Italian, certainly 
knew  something  of  Italy.  The  growth  of  such 
an  influence  was,  probably,  gradual,  but  the 
time  of  its  florescence  into  the  great  italianate 
poems  appears  at  once  to  be  short  and  to 
follow  closely  upon  the  second  Italian  journey. 
This  alone  deserves  the  name  "  Italian 
Period." 

FRANK  JEWETT  MATHER,  JR. 
Williams  College. 


NO  TES  ON  HALL'S  CONCISE  ANGLO- 
SAXON  DICTIONARY. 

ERRATA. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS:  I  wish  to  call  attention  to  the  follow- 
ing errors  that  appeared  in  my  articles  in  the 
June  (No.  6)  and  Nov.  (No.  7)  issues  of  this 
journal : 

Col.  327,  line  ij,  the  brackets  should  be 
closed  after  the  interrogation  point;  same 
col.,  note  9,  line  6,  dufhammar  should  read 
dufhamar. 

Col.  331,  note  2ib,  line  2,  for  half  read  hlaf; 
for  gespring  ende  read  gesprengedne ;  line  3, 
for  Haifa  read  hlaf  a ;  line  5,  for  gebegedne 
read  gebigedne  ;  line  7,  for  gesprengende  read 
gesprengedne  ;  for  klafa  read  hlaf  a. 

Col.  332,  line  17,  for  hylstene  read  hylsteTie; 
same  col,,  note  23b,  line  i,  for  hylleshama  read 
hyllehama. 

Col.  333,  line  n,  for  tedridtid  read  teSridtid; 
line  12,  for  &  read  8. 

Col.  333,  note  25,  line  5,  for  t  esca,  t  iscia 
read  t  esca,  I  iscia. 

Col.  413,  line  20,  read  Hall  for  Hal. 

Col.  413,  note  42,  read  I  aefimng  for  / 
aefming. 

Col.  414,  line  25  read  bad  for  baed. 

Col.  414,  note  44,  read  WW.  479,  //,  as  is 
correctly  printed  in  note  46. 

Col.  416,  note  47,  line  4,  read  botriones  for 
botrognes. 

Col.  417,  line  9,  read  I  eahtho  for  /  eahtho  ; 
also  lines  12  and  14,  /should  read  i,  being  the 
abbreviation  of  uel. 

Supplementary  to  what  I  have  said  (Col.  415) 
on  Hall's  entry  gripu  '  Kettle,  caldron,'  I  wish 
to  draw  attention  to  the  German  dialect  (Wirz- 


burg)  forms  krodeln,  krddeln,  krotteln,  denot- 
ing the  boiling  of  sausages  or  sausage-meat  in 
a  particular  kind  of  caldron.  Hence  the  fork 
or  hook,  by  means  of  which  meat  or  sausages 
are  fished  out  of  the  caldron,  is  called  crodal 
in  OHG.1  In  regard  to  the  conclusion  at  which 
I  have  arrived  on  col.  418,  concerning  Sweet's 
grundsopa  having  no  standing  in  Anglo-Saxon, 
I  may  add,  that  what  we  find  WW.  717,  36,  hoc 
abdomen  grundsope  is  very  likely  hoc  abdomen 
glundrope,  that  is,  gelund  rope;  cp.  WW. 
i5o,  urenunculi  lundlagan;  WW.  159,  6  ab- 
domen hrysel  uel  gelend  uel  swind  uel  swine s 
smere  ;  rope,  of  course,  stands  in  the  old 
sense  of  '  bowel '  and  is  also  to  be  restored  in 
WW.  679,  9  hec  colera  the  ersope  ;  that  is,  ers 
rope,  which,  in  meaning,  is  practically  identi- 
cal with  hie  cirbus  Ae  harstharme;  that  is,  ars 
tharme,  representing  a  German  Arschdarm. 
OTTO  B.  SCHLUTTER. 
Hartford  High  School. 


VERSTECKENS  SPIELEN. 
To  THE  EDITORS  OF  MOD.  LANG.  NOTES, 

SIRS: — Prof.  Thomas  in  his  Practical  Ger- 
man Grammar,  p.  200,  speaks  of  the  word 
Versteckens  in  the  phrase,  Versteckens  spielen, 
as  "a  genitive  difficult  to  classify."  Grimm, 
Sanders,  and  Heyne  offer  no  explanation.  In 
Heidelberg  the  little  children  can  be  heard  to 
say  distinctly  :  "  Nu,  spiele  wir  verstecke'ns." 
This  is  certainly  Siiddeutsch  for,  "Nun,  spielen 
wir  verstecken  uns;"  which  has  been  con- 
tracted into  Versteckens,  as  in  Kotzebue's 
Kleinstddter,  iv,  7  :  "  Geschwind  noch  einmal 
versteckens  gespielt."  Thus  what  appears  to 
be  a  genitive  is  merely  a  verb  and  its  object. 
EDWARD  MEYER. 
Western  Reserve  University. 


BRIEF    MENTION. 

The  next  Annual  Meeting  of  the  Modern 
Language  Association  of  America  will  be  held 
at  Adelbert  College,  Cleveland,  Ohio,  De- 
cember 29,  30,  31.  The  Opening  session  will 
be  convened  at  3  o'clock,  December  29th. 
The  President  of  the  Association,  Professor 
Calvin  Thomas,  of  Columbia  University,  will 
deliver  an  address  on  "Literature  and  Per- 
sonality," December  2gth  at  8  o'clock. 


Professor  A.  H.  Tolman  and  Mrs.  Ella 
Adams  Moore,  of  the  University  of  Chicago, 
have  published  a  "  Select  Bibliography  of  the 
English  Drama  before  Elizabeth,"  and  "A 
Comparative  Table  of  the  Four  Cycles  of  Re- 
ligious Plays."  Together,  twenty-five  cts.  (The 
University  of  Chicago  Press.)  These  lists  and 
tables  are  carefully  prepared  and  will  be  found 
very  helpful. 

i  Cp.  Schmeller,  Bair.  Wtb.  ii,  382. 


256 


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