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THE    MODERN    LANGUAGE 
REVIEW 


VOLUME   IX 


1914 


CAMBRIDGE  UNIVERSITY   PRESS 

Hon&Olt:   FETTER  LANE,  E.G. 

C.   F.   CLAY,   MANAGER 


100,  PRINCES  STREET 
$artss:  LIBRAIRIE  HACHETTE  ET  C«. 

THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CHICAGO  PRESS 
Bombag  anU  Calcutta:  MACMILLAN  AND  CO.,  LTD. 
Eorontn :  J.  M.  DENT  AND  SONS,  LTD. 

THE  MARUZEN-KABUSHIKI-KAISHA 


All  rights  reserved 


THE 


MODERN    LANGUAGE 
REVIEW 


A    QUARTERLY   JOURNAL    DEVOTED    TO    THE    STUDY 

OF    MEDIEVAL    AND    MODERN    LITERATURE 

AND    PHILOLOGY 


EDITED    BY 

J.   G.    ROBERTSON 
G.   C.    MACAULAY 

AND 

J.   FITZMAURICE-KELLY 


VOLUME   \X 


Cambridge : 

at  the   University   Press 

1914 


INDEX 


ARTICLES. 

ALDEN,  RAYMOND  MACDONALD,  The  Mental  Side  of  Metrical  Reform 

BARRIER,  P.,  FILS,  Deux  Noms  de  Poissons 

BRADLEY,  A.  C.,  Notes  on  Shelley's  'Triumph  of  Life3 
CROSLAND,  JESSIE,  'Von   dem   Bliimlin   Vergissmeinnit.'     A   Middle- 
High-German  Poem          .        .         .         .         .         .        . 

DODDS,  MADELEINE  H.,  The  Problem  of  the  '  Ludus  Coventriae ' 

KENWOOD,  SYDNEY  H.,  Lessing  in  England 

LAURENCE,  J.,  Authorities  on  English  Pronunciation  . 

LONG,  PERCY  W.,  Spenser's  'Muiopotmos' 


63, 


PAGE 

297 
190 
441 

359 
79 

197,  344 
53 
457 

145,  324,  463 
12 
173 


MACAULAY,  G.  C.,  The  'Ancreri  Riwle'         ... 

MEISNEST,  F.  W.,  Wieland's  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

MOORE,  E.,  The  'Battifolle'  Letters  sometimes  attributed  to  Dante 

POPE,  MILDRED  K.,  Four  Chansons  de  Geste  :  a  Study  in  Old  French 

Epic  Versification,  in,  iv         ........          41 

ROBERTSON,  J.  G.,  Notes  on  Lessing's   'Beytrage  zur  Historic  und 

Aufnahme  des  Theaters,'  in,  iv      .......        213 

ROBERTSON,  J.  G.,  Soren  Kierkegaard  .......        500 

ROOKER,  T.  K.,  The  Optimism  of  Alfred  de  Vigny     ....  1 

TOYNBEE,  PAGET,  The  S.  Pantaleo  Italian  Translation  of  Dante's  Letter 

to  the  Emperor  Henry  VII  (Epist.  vn)  .....  332 
TUTTLE,  EDWIN  H.,  Notes  on  Romanic  Speech-History  ...  493 
WILLIAMS,  W.  H.,  '  Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  '  The  Knightes  Tale'  161,  309 
WILLOUGHBY,  L.  A.,  An  Early  Translation  of  Goethe's  '  Tasso  '  .  223 
WOODBRIDGE,  BENJAMIN  M.,  A  French  Precursor  of  Lesage,  Gatien  de 

Courtilz,  Sieur  du  Vierger       ........         475 

MISCELLANEOUS   NOTES. 

CHAMPENOIS,  J.  J.,  A  Visit  to  Paris  in  1749  .....  514 

CLARK,  RUTH,  Horace  Walpole  and  Mariette  .....  520 
CRAWFORD,  J.  P.  WICKERSHAM,  Notes  on  the  '  Amphitrion  5  and  '  Los 

Menemnos  '  of  Juan  de  Timoneda  .......  248 

FEUILLERAT,  ALBERT,  An  Unknown  Protestant  Morality  Play  .  .  94 
FEUILLERAT,  ALBERT,  Performance  of  a  Tragedy  at  New  College, 

Oxford,  in  the  Time  of  Queen  Mary      ......  96 

FISCHER,  WALTER,  Somaize  and  Sorel  .......  375 

GARDNER,  EDMUND  G.,  Three  Notes  on  the  '  Divina  Commedia  '  .  101 

GRAVES,  T.  S.,  A  Tragedy  of  Dido  and  Aeneas  acted  in  1607  .  .  525 


vi  Index 

MISCELLANEOUS  NOTES  cont.  PAGE 

GREG,  W.  W.,  A  Ballad  of  Twelfth  Day  ...  ''.  .  .  235 

GRIERSON,  H.  J.  C.,  A  Note  on  the  Text  of  'As  You  Like  It,'  II,  i,  5  .  370 

GRIERSON,  H.  J.  C.,  Donniana 237 

GUTHKELCH,  A.  C.,  Swift's  'Tale  of  a  Tub'  100 
HOLL,  KARL,  Sheridan's  'Verses  to  the  Memory  of  Garrick'  and 

Schiller's  '  Prolog  zum  Wallenstein.' 246 

JOURDAIN,  E.  F.,  'La  Journee  des  Dupes' 516 

JOURDAIN,  E.  F.,  and  J.  EVANS,  A  Note  on  an  Allusion  to  Rome  in 

the  '  Divina  Commedia '  .        .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .  381 

LAFLEUR,  PAUL  T.,  Sainte-Beuve,  Balzac,  and  Thackeray  .  '  .  .  517 
LAWRENCE,  W.  J.,  '  Epithalamium  upon  Lady  Mary  Cromwell's 

Marriage' 374 

LAWRENCE,  W.  J.,  'Soliman  and  Perseda'  ......  523 

LOWES,  JOHN  L.,  Chaucer's  Friday 94 

MCLAUGHLIN,  W.  A.,  An  Episode  in  Victor  Hugo's  '  Notre  Dame  de 

Paris' 246 

SEDGEFIELD,  W.  J.,  The  Place-Name  'Hale,'  'Haile,'  'Haugh,'  'Eale'  240 

SMITH,  G.  C.  MOORE,  Herrick's  'Hesperides' 373 

SMITH,  G.  C.  MOORE,  Matthew  Roydon 97 

SMITH,  G.  C.  MOORE,  Shakespeare's  'Sonnets'  LI,  10  f.  .  .  .  372 

SMITH,  HERBERT,  Two  English  Translations  of  Schiller's  'Wallenstein'  .  243 

TERRACHER,  A.,  Une  source  possible  de  '  Salammbo ' .  .  .  .  379 

TOYNBEE,  PAGET,  The  Etymology  of  '  Buckram ' 243 

TUTTLE,  EDWIN  H.,  Rumanian  'Geana'         .         .         .         .         .         .  251 

WELLS,  JOHN  EDWIN,  'A  Luue  Ron'  and  'Of  Clene  Maydenhood'    .  236 

WHITE,  ALBERT  B.,  Early  Uses  of  '  Parliamentum '     ....  92 

WILLOUGHBY,  L.  A.,  Goethe's  'Tasso'  in  England  ....  382 

WILSON,  F.  P.,  Marston,  Lodge,  and  Constable 99 

WORRALL,  WALTER,  '  Herkinalson ' 242 

DISCUSSION. 

VERRIER,  PAUL,  English  and  French  Metric 385 

REVIEWS. 

Akerlund,  A.,  History  of  the  Definite  Tenses  in  English  (A.  C.  Paues)  .  410 

American  Poems,  ed.  by  W.  C.  Bronson  (G.  E.  Hadow)     .         .         .  540 

Aydelotte,  F.,  Elizabethan  Rogues  and  Vagabonds  (F.  P.  Wilson)      .  391 
Bacon,  G.  W.,  Life  and  Works  of  Juan  Pe"rez  de  Montalvan  (M.  A. 

Buchanan)         .        .        .         .         .        .        ...        .         .         .  556 

Baldensperger,  F.,  La  Litterature  :  Creation,  Succes,  Dur^e  (0.  Elton)  .  389 

Borgerhoff,  J.  L.,  Le  Theatre  anglais  k  Paris  (A.  Tilley)     .         .         .  415 

Bosson,  0.  E.,  Slang  and  Cant  in  Jerome's  Works  (A.  C.  Paues)      .  410 

Braga,  Th.,  Historia  da  Litteratura  Portugueza,  n.  (A.  F.  G.  Bell)    .  553 

Brilioth,  B.,  Grammar  of  the  Dialect  of  Lorton  (W.  J.  Sedgefield)     .  409 

Cairns,  W.  B.,  History  of  American  Literature  (G.  E.  Hadow)          .  398 

Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature,  x  (C.  van  Doren)       .         .  254 


Index  vii 

REVIEWS  cont.  PAGE 

Cervantes  Saa.vedra,  M.  de,  Don  Quijote,  transl.  by  Robinson  Smith 

(A.  F.  G.  Bell) 554 

Charlton,  H.  B.,  Castelvetro's  Theory  of  Poetry  (J.  G.  Robertson)     .  280 
Classen,    E.,    Vowel    Alliteration    in    the    Old    Germanic    Languages 

(A.  Mawer)                .  % 105 

Delattre,  F.,  Robert  Herrick  (F.  S.  Boas)     .         .         .         .        .         .  530 

Donne,  J.,  Poems,  ed.  by  H.  J.  C.  Grierson  (E.  K.  Chambers)          .  269 
Drummond,  W.,  of  Hawthornden,  Poetical  Works,  ed.  by  L.  E.  Kastner 

(G.  C.  Moore  Smith) 262 

Efvergren,  C.,  Names  of  Places  in  a  Transferred  Sense  (A.  C.  Paues)  410 

Elson,  C.,  Wieland  and  Shaftesbury  (J.  G.  Robertson)        .        .        .  424 
Farnsworth,  W.  O.,  Uncle  and  Nephew   in   the   Chansons  de  Geste 

(M.  K.  Pope) 278 

Figueiredo,  F.  de,  Historia  da   Litteratura   Portuguesa  (1825 — 1900) 

(A.  F.  G.  Bell) 418 

Fitzmaurice- Kelly,  J.,  Litterature  espagnole  (H.  A.  Rennert)      .         .  275 

Fitzmaurice-Kelly,  J.,  Miguel  de  Cervantes  Saavedra  (H.  A.  Rennert)  421 

Gadde,  F.,  On  the  Suffixes  -ery,  -age  and  -ment  in  English  (A.  C.  Paues)  410 
Gillet,  J.  E.,  Moliere  en  Angleterre  (J.  J.  Champenois)       .         .         127,  430 

Goethe,  J.  W.  von,  West-Eastern  Divan,  transl.  by  E.  Dowden  (J.  Lees)  426 
Goethe,  J.  W.  von,  Wilhelm  Meister's  Theatrical  Mission,  transl.  by 

G.  A.  Page  (J.  Lees) 426 

Gossouin,  Maltre,  L'Image  du  Monde,  ed.  par  H.  0.  Prior  (A.  Terracher)  416 

Grammont,  M.,  Le  Vers  frangais  (T.  B.  Rudmose-Brown)  .         .        .  549 

Grant,  W.,  Pronunciation  of  English  in  Scotland  (H.  Mutschmann)  .  273 

Gray,  T.,  Essays  and  Criticisms,  ed.  by  C.  S.  Northup  (J.  W.  H.  Atkins)  113 

Grudzinski,  H.,  Shaftesbury's  Einfluss  auf  Wieland  (J.  G.  Robertson)  424 
Hebrew-German   Arthurian  Legends,  ed.  by  L.  Landau  (L.  A.  Wil- 

loughby) 558 

Higginson,  J.  J.,  Spenser's  Shepherd's  Calender  (G.  C.  Moore  Smith)  394 

Howell,  A.  G.  Ferrers,  San  Bernardino  of  Siena  (J.  T.  Mitchell)        .  423 

Jewett,  S.,  Folk-Ballads  of  Southern  Europe  (A.  F.  G.  Bell)      .         .  419 

Johnston,  H.,  Phonetic  Spelling  (H.  Alexander)  .....  427 

Jones,  J.  Morris,  Welsh  Grammar  (E.  C.  Quiggin)      ....  281 

Jonson,  B.,  Cynthia's  Revels,  ed.  by  A.  C.  Judson  (W.  W.  Greg)      .  259 

Lanuert,  G.  L.,  The  Language  of  Robinson  Crusoe  (A.  C.  Paues)      .  410 

Leeb-Lundberg,  W.,  Word- Formation  in  Kipling  (A.  C.  Paues)  .        .  410 

Lefranc,  A.,  Grands  Ecrivains  fran§ais  de  la  Renaissance  (A.  Tilley)  543 

Martino,  P.,  Le  Roman  Realiste  sous  le  Second  Empire  (A.  Tilley)  .  412 
Masterpieces  of  the   English   Drama,  ed.  by  F.  E.  Schelling  (G.  C. 

Macaulay) Ill 

Michaelis,   H.,   and   D.   Jones,   Phonetic   Dictionary    of   the   English 

Language  (H.  C.  Wyld) 107 

Mutschmann,    H.,    The    Place-Names    of    Nottinghamshire    (W.    J. 

Sedgefield) 405 

Oxford  Book  of  Victorian  Verse,  chosen  by  A.  Quiller-Couch  (G.  E. 

Hadow) 115 

Palm,  B.,  Place  of  the  Adjective  Attribute  in  English  Prose  (A.  C.  Paues)  410 


viii  lydex 

REVIEWS  cont.  t  PAGE 

Patience,  ed.  by  I.  Gollancz  (J.  H.  G.  Grattan)  I  403 

Pellisson,  M.,  Les  Comedies-Ballets  de  Moliere  (A.  Tilley)  .  .  548 

Primitiae,  by  Students  of  the  University  of  Liverpool  (N.  Hepple)  .  536 
Reynolds,  M.,  Nature  in  English  Poetry  between  Pope  and  Wordsworth 

(F.  W.  Moorman) 110 

Robertson,  J.  M.,  The  Baconian  Theory  (J.  Dover  Wilson)  .  .  527 
Salusbury,  Sir  J.,  and  R.  Chester,  ed.  by  Carleton  Brown  (G.  C.  Moore 

Smith) 533 

Serner,  G.,  The  Language  of  Swinburne's  Lyrics  and  Epics  (A.  C.  Paues)  410 

Tupper,  F.,  The  Riddles  of  the  Exeter  Book  (R.  W.  Chambers)  .  271 
Turquet-Milnes,  G.,  Influence  of  Baudelaire  in  France  and  England 

(K.  M.  Linton  and  T.  B.  Rudmose-Brown) 122 

Vie  de  St  Remi,  La,  ed.  par  W.  N.  Bolderston  (P.  Barbier,  fils)  .  117 

Wyatt,  A.  J.,  Old  English  Riddles  (A.  R.  Skemp)  .  .  .  .  400  , 

MINOR  NOTICES. 

Association  Phonetique  Internationale,  The  (W.  Vieler)       .         .         .  285 

Austin,  H.  D.,  Citations  in  Ristoro  d'Arezzo's  Composizione  del  Hondo  429 

Beowulf,  ed.  by  W.  J.  Sedgefield 429 

Boynton,  P.  H.,  London  in  English  Literature 283 

Browning,  R.,  The  Ring  and  the  Book,  ed.  by  E.  Dowden         .        .  132 

Chinard,  G.,  L'Amerique  et  le  re~ve  exotique  dans  la  litterature  frangaise  284 

Choisy,  L.  F.,  Alfred  Tennyson 132 

Deutsche  Literaturdenkmale,  Nos.  146—150         .         .         .         .         .  560 

Dyboski,  R.,  Shakespeare :  Dzieta  Dramatyzne  .  .  .  .  .  134 
Gabrielson,  A.,  Influence  of  w-  in  Old  English  as  seen  in  Middle 

English  Dialects       ... 133 

Gillet,  J.  E.,  Moliere  en  Angleterre 430 

Grandgent,  C.  H.,  Dante's  Divina  Commedia:  Paradiso  .  .  .  134 
Greg,  W.  W.,  Twelve  Early  MSS.  in  the  Library  of  Trinity  College, 

Cambridge 560 

Henderson,  T.  F.,  The  Ballad  in  Literature         .        .         .        ,         .  131 

Hurd,  R.,  Letters  on  Chivalry  and  Romance,  ed.  by  E.  J.  Morley    .  131 

Klaeber,  F.,  The  Later  Genesis     ,.       .     .  . 282 

Lancaster,  H.  C.,  Pierre  Du  Ryer 285 

Lowell,  J.  R.,  Poems 132 

Rossetti,  D.  G.,  Poems  and  Translations 283 

Soames,  L.,  Introduction  to  English,  French  and  German  Phonetics  284 

Soames,  L.,  The  Teacher's  Manual 284 

Winther,  F.,  Das  gerettete  Venedig 561 

NEW   PUBLICATIONS ,  136,  287,  432,  562 


VOLUME  IX  JANUARY,  1914  NUMBER  1 


THE   OPTIMISM   OF   ALFRED    DE   VIGNY. 

IT  has  been  a  custom  to  look  upon  Alfred  de  Vigny  as  the 
pessimist-poet,  to  consider  him  as  a  philosopher  for  whom  no  gleam 
of  light  ever  broke  through  the  clouds  which  overhang  our  universe, 
who  looked  upon  life  as  a  prison  house  from  which  there  was  no 
escape,  where  it  was  our  destiny  to  kill  the  endless  days  and  nights 
in  picking  shreds  of  oakum,  and  who  thought  of  death  as  a  release 
only  because  it  was  annihilation. 

This  curiously  distorted  view  of  the  philosophy  of  one  of  France's 
greatest  poets  arises  from  various  causes :  and  perhaps  the  not  least 
important  is  our  misguided  habit  of  reading  the  works  of  poets  in 
anthologies.  Alfred  de  Vigny  is  known  to  the  majority  of  cultivated 
Englishmen  from  Mo'ise,  La  Golere  de  Samson,  and  La  Mort  du  Loup, 
all  of  which  belong  to  a  period  of  his  life  overshadowed  by  the  blackest 
pessimism — dark  indeed,  but  yet  transient. 

In  penetrating  beyond  the  exterior  beauty  of  a  poet's  verse  to  the 
thought  embedded  in  that  world  of  metaphor  and  imagery  the  reader 
will  not  rest  content  with  a  study  of  isolated  masterpieces,  but  con- 
sidering biographical  and  chronological  evidence,  will  follow  the  de- 
velopment of  the  poet's  mind :  and  he  will  give,  above  all,  credence 
to  his  last  and  most  mature  work  in  forming  an  estimate  of  his 
philosophy.  It  is  my  purpose  .to  apply  this  method  to  the  verse  of 
Alfred  de  Vigny  and  to  point  out  that,  in  my  opinion  at  least,  the 
poet  closed  his  life,  in  full  mental  vigour,  upon  a  note  of  optimism. 

I. 

All  the  early  influences  which  combined  in  the  formation  of  the 
poet's  personality  tended  to  emphasize  a  melancholy  disposition  that 
nature  had  bestowed  upon  him.  The  very  town — Loches — where  he 
was  born,  in  its  sombre  gloom,  seemed  to  watch  with  stern  regret  the 
laughing  children  who  played  along  its  streets.  And,  further,  Alfred 
de  Vigny  was  of  aristocratic  birth :  his  parents  under  the  Terror  had 
been  thrown  into  the  prison  of  his  native  town ;  he  inherited  all  the 
odium  of  a  banished  class.  From  childhood  he  knew  the  spirit  of  that 
M.  L.  R.  ix.  1 


2  The  Optimism  of  Alfred  de   Vigny 

1  divine  solitude '  of  soul,  under  whose  protecting  wings  he  lived  and 
wrote  and  died.  When  still  young  he  was  taken  to  Paris  and  sent 
to  school,  a  period  of  his  life  filled,  it  seems,  with  bitter  memories. 
'  Le  college  bien  triste  et  bien  froid  me  faisait  mal  par  mille  douleurs 
et  mille  afflictions,'  he  writes  to  Brizeux  in  1831.  His  ancestry,  his 
feminine  temperament  and  dreamy  nature,  did  little  to  bring  him 
favour  in  the  eyes  of  his  boisterous  comrades.  The  days  were  spent 
in  constant  reverie,  and  his  keen  sensitive  mind,  busying  itself  with 
continual  introspection,  developed  inevitably  all  the  symptoms  of  patho- 
logical melancholia. 

Beyond  these  personal  influences,  which  all  encouraged  any  in- 
dividual bent  towards  pessimism,  there  was  one  still  more  potent. 
Alfred  de  Vigny  was  a  romantic,  and  sufficiently  a  child  of  his  age 
to  suffer  from  the  *  mal  du  siecle.'  In  the  nineteenth  century  the  poet 
was  by  very  definition  oppressed  with  the  burden  of  life,  the  enigmas 
of  the  universe :  he  was,  in  the  words  of  Victor  Hugo,  the  '  poete  au 
triste  front.'  The  gloomy  silhouette  of  the  Byronic  hero  always  loomed 
on  the  horizon. 

However,  in  his  earliest  poems  de  Vigny  escapes  more  often  than 
his  contemporaries  from  that  spirit  of  bitterness  towards  life  which 
characterised  much  of  his  maturer  verse.  La  Dryade  of  1815  is  an 
idyll  all  of  delicate  fancy.  Symetha,  written  in  the  same  year,  bears 
no  mark  of  parentage  to  La  Colere  de  Samson. 

Tu  pars  ;   et  cependant  m'as  tu  toujours  ha'i, 
Symetha  ?    Non,  ton  cceur  quelquefois  s'est  trahi : 
Car,  lorsqu'un  mot  flatteur  abordait  ton  oreille, 
La  pudeur  souriait  sur  ta  levre  vermeille  : 
Je  1'ai  vu,  ton  sourire  aussi  beau  que  le  jour  : 
Et  1'heure  du  sourire  est  1'heure  de  1'amour. 

And  in  Le  Bain  (1817)  we  have  an  ode  breathing  something  of  the 
voluptuous  spirit  of  Keats. 

The  despondency  of  his  early  years  we  may  consider  then  as  the 
disease  of  youth  that  environment  and  the  'Zeitgeist'  had  fostered. 
It  was  when  the  poet  passed  into  manhood  that  he  entered  at  the  same 
time  into  the  shadow  of  a  deep  and  profound  pessimism. 

II. 

In  1820  de  Vigny  wrote  La  Fille  de  Jephte:  he  was  then  twenty- 
three  years  of  age,  and  in  this  poem  he  strikes  the  motif  of  all  his 
pessimistic  verse — the  suffering  of  the  innocent.  It  was  indeed  one 
of  the  problems  of  existence  which  haunted  the  minds  of  all  the 


J.    K.    HOOKER  3 

thinkers  of  his  generation.  In  our  poet's  verse  it  is  seen  under  every 
guise :  God  is  depicted  as  one  who  takes  pleasure  in  blood,  and  for  a 
sacrifice  demands  the  daughter  of  Jephta.  Moses  from  the  Mount 
Nebo  asks  what  evil  he  has  done  to  have  been  chosen  the  elect  of 
the  Almighty. 

We  have  been  thrown  into  the  world,  the  poet  constantly  says  in 
his  Journal,  and  as  in  a  prison  we  are  forced  to  do  our  sentence  of 
penal  servitude  for  life,  yet  we  know  not  what  wrong  we  have  done. 

C'est  la  vapeur  du  sang  qui  plait  au  Dieu  jaloux ! 

Joseph  de  Maistre,  a  philosopher  of'  the  same  epoch,  preached 
frankly  the  vicarious  theory:  humanity,  he  said,  has  been  guilty 
from  the  time  of  the  expulsion  from  the  Garden  of  Eden;  it  is  sin 
that  is  ever  accumulating,  and  so  all  humanity  must  suffer,  the  just 
and  the  unjust,  that  the  common  debt  may  be  paid  off.  To  Alfred 
de  Vigny  the  theory  was  in  itself  repugnant.  For  him,  rather,  the  world 
had  been  left  in  ignorance ;  and  on  the  last  day  God  would  appear  to 
justify  Etimself  before  humanity,  sitting  in  judgment. 

De  Vigny  was  brought  up  as  a  Catholic,  but  slowly  lost  the  faith  of 
his  childhood.  His  religious  beliefs  were,  however,  far  from  clear;  he 
used  the  term  '  God '  loosely,  sometimes  in  the  singular,  and  at  other 
times  in  the  plural ;  at  moments  of  keen  suffering,  as  at  the  deathbed 
of  his  mother,  he  prayed  again  to  the  God  of  his  early  years.  And, 
moreover,  in  his  bitterest  accusations  against  the  Creator,  he  seemed 
never  to  question  the  existence  of  a  Divine  personality.  Elsewhere, 
his  conception  appears  vaguer  and  less  precise. 

Torn  by  mental  doubt,  Alfred  de  Vigny  was  at  the  same  time  sub- 
jected to  physical  miseries.  He  himself  was  a  constant  invalid.  Also 
many  years  of  his  life  were  spent  in  nursing  his  mother  and  his  wife. 
Yet  the  keenest  suffering  was  to  come,  when  he  was  betrayed  by  the 
only  woman  who  had  ever  awakened  within  him  a  love  that  was  both 
passionate  and  ethereal ;  it  was  when  he  left  for  the  last  time  the 
presence  of  Madame  Dorval  that  the  mysterious  sorrows  of  life  most 
completely  held  him. 

It  was  between  the  years  1835  and  1850  that  Alfred  de  Vigny  was 
plunged  in  the  deepest  pessimism.  The  world  offered  him  nothing 
but  deception  and  disillusion.  If  we  take  the  three  great  themes  of 
highest  poetry — Love,  Nature,  and  the  Divine — we  shall  find  in  his 
attitude  to  each  of  them  a  blank  despair.  Of  Love,  he  says  :  '  Et  plus 
ou  moins,  la  Femme  est  toujours  Dalila'  (La  Colere  de  Samson) ;  of 

1—2 


4  The  Optimism  of  Alfred  de    Viyny 

Nature :  '  On  me  dit  tine  mere,  et  je  suis  une  tombe '  (La  Maison  du 
Berger) ;  and  of  the  Divine  :  '  Le  ciel  reste  noir,  et  Dieu  ne  repond  pas ' 
(Le  Mont  des  Oliviers).  No  pessimism  could  be  more  complete.  Man 
is  solitary  upon  the  earth.  'The  cowardly  animals  go  in  packs/  he 
said,  '  the  lion  walks  alone  in  the  desert.'  So  the  great  man  will  scorn 
to  give  any  sign  of  his  misery,  but  will  live  and  die  in  silence. 

The  pessimism  of  de  Vigny  has  about  it  something  that  is  sublime, 
since  it  is  so  superbly  impersonal.  His  own  sorrow  he  sinks  into  the 
sorrow  of  the  whole  human  race.  He  passes  from  the  particular  to 
the  universal.  It  is  the  soul  of  humanity  that  finds  expression  in  his 
poetry.  From  the  depths  of  his  pessimism  rises  a  sublime  altruism. 

III. 

It  was  necessary  to  sketch  rapidly  the  periods  of  pessimism  through 
which  de  Vigny  passed  before  approaching  the  main  theme  of  this 
paper,  which  is  to  suggest  that  those  periods  were  transitory,  and  that 
through  the  first  impenetrable  darkness  of  his  early  manhood  there 
pierced  a  shaft  of  light,  which  towards  the  end  of  his  life  dispersed  the 
thickening  shadows,  and  showed  him  through  all  the  tangled  misery  of 
the  world — a  purpose. 

Sur  la  pierre  des  rnorts  crott  1'arbre  de  grandeur. 

(La  Bouteille  d  la  Mer.) 

Alfred  de  Vigny  seems  never  to  have  accepted  the  creed  of  the 
atheist.  He  believed  in  the  existence  of  a  personal  God,  but  He  was 
a  God  indifferent  or  cruel :  the  God  of  blood  or  the  God  of  cold  disdain 
and  eternal  silence.  The  former  conception  was  that  of  his  early  years, 
but  the  latter  replaced  it,  as  his  mind  developed  and  reacted  against 
the  repulsive  doctrine  of  Joseph  de  Maistre,  justifying  the  suffering 
of  the  innocent.  The  poet  himself  said :  '  Ne  peut-on  supposer  un 
Dieu  qui  ait  cree  les  constellations  et  les  planetes  en  demeurant  aussi 
indifferent  a  1'homme  que  1'homme  a  la  fourmiliere  ? '  This  conception 
too  was  of  necessity  transient.  The  picture  of  a  Creator  resting  in 
complete  indifference  to  the  work  of  His  hands  is  one  that  has  never 
brought  satisfaction  to  the  human  mind.  Such  a  philosophy  is  inevitably 
but  a  prelude,  either  to  atheism  or  some  more  complicated  conception 
of  the  Divine  Being.  De  Vigny 's  virile  activity  of  mind,  which  looked 
upon  struggle  as  the  noblest  of  privileges,  united  to  the  delicate  sensi- 
tiveness of  a  poet,  saved  him  from  the  former.  Slowly  he  developed 
a  philosophy,  which,  while  making  no  attempt  to  diminish  anything  of 
the  black  sorrow  of  life,  gave  to  that  sorrow  a  meaning  and  a  hope : 


J.    K.    ROOKER  5 

the  conviction  that  what  was  sown  in  sacrifice  to-day  would  take 
root  and  bear  its  harvest  for  the  generations  to  come.  Life  for  Alfred 
de  Vigny  was  in  its  essence  evil,  but  in  that  very  evil  lay  man's  great 
opportunity.  For  if  life  were  good,  where  lay  the  impulse  to  active 
struggle  ?  If  Providence  regulated  every  detail  in  human  history,  who 
was  man  to  set  himself  up  against  God  ?  Rather,  it  was  the  very 
certitude  that  life  was  indeed  evil  and  that  man  might  transform  it 
which  had  given  the  incentive  power  to  all  the  great  creations  of 
religion,  philosophy,  art  and  science.  God  was  apart  from  the  world, 
but  not  so  far  as  to  let  human  effort  waste  itself  in  space. 

Jetons  1'oeuvre  a  la  mer,  la  mer  des  multitudes :  • 
— Dieu  la  prendra  du  doigt  pour  la  conduire  au  port. 

(Bouteille  a  la  Mer.] 

Que  Dieu  peut  bien  permettre  a  des  eaux  insensees 
De  perdre  des  vaisseaux,  mais  non  pas  des  pensees. 

(Bouteille  a  la  Mer.} 

The  poem  from  which  I  have  taken  these  two  quotations  is 
perhaps  the  fullest  expression  that  we  have  of  de  Vigny's  mature 
philosophy.  It  was  written  in  the  October  of  1858,  five  years  before 
his  death.  The  symbol  is  that  of  a  vessel  wrecked  off  the  Straits  of 
Magellan ;  the  captain  realising  that  the  ship  is  sinking  writes  in  haste 
a  warning  to  future  sailors,  puts  the  precious  document  into  a  corked 
bottle  and  throws  it  out  to  sea.  The  ship  sinks  together  with  the 
captain  and  crew.  The  fragile  bottle  then  becomes  the  hero  of  the 
poem,  and  is  cast  up  finally  on  the  shores  of  France. 

In  other  words  it  is  the  sacrifice  of  the  individual  to  the  progress 
of  the  race ;  the  God  to  whom  the  poet  turns  in  his  supreme  moments 
is  the  '  God  of  Ideas,'  who  will  not  let  perish  one  single  disinterested 
thought  of  a  human  mind.  The  captain  and  every  thinker  are  isolated 
in  the  world — looking  for  help  alone  from 

la  forte  foi  dont  il  est  embrase  : 
. 

il  pense 

A  celui  qui  soutierit  les  poles  et  balance 
L'equateur  herisse  des  longs  meridiens. 

And  the  sacrifice  is  not  sterile : 

mais  il  faut  que  la  terre 
Recueille  du  travail  le  pieux  monument. 
C'est  le  journal  savant,  le  calcul  solitaire, 
Plus  rare  que  la  perle  et  le  diamant: 

Aux  voyageurs  futurs  sublime  testament. 
Qu'il  aborde,  si  c'est  la  volonte  de  Dieu. 


6  The  Optimism  of  Alfred  de   Vigny 

The  captain's  faith  was  firm : 

II  sourit  en  songeant  que  ce  fragile  verre 
Portera  sa  pensee  et  son  nom  jusqu'au  port ; 
Que  d'une  lie  inconnue  il  agrandit  la  terre ; 
Qu'il  marque  un  nouvel  astre  et  le  confie  au  sort. 

Et  qu'avec  un  flacon  il  a  vaincu  la  mort. 

The  poet  then  tells  of  the  seas  over  which  the  sealed  bottle  must 
first  traverse,  the  coasts  it  must  first  pass, 

Seule  dans  1'Ocean,  seule  toujours ! — Perdue 
Comme  un  point  invisible  en  un  mouvant  desert, 

till  it  reaches  at  last  its  destined  port.  And  the  poem  ends  with  four 
verses  of  superb  optimism,  a  rush  of  enthusiastic  verse  (the  italics  are 
mine) : 

Souvenir  eternel !     Gloire  a  la  decouverte 

Dans  1'homme  ou  la  nature,  egaux  en  profondeur, 

Dans  le  Juste  et  le  Bien,  source  a  peine  entr'ouverte, 

Dans  1'Art  inepuisable,  ablme  de  splendeur ! 

Qu'importe  Voubli,  morsure,  injustice  insensee, 

Glaces  et  tourbillons  de  notre  traversee? 

Sur  la  pierre  des  morts  croit  I'arbre  de  grandeur. 

Get  arbre  est  le  plus  beau  de  la  terre  promise, 

C'est  votre  phare  k  tous,  Penseurs  laborieux ! 

Voguez  sans  jamais  craindre  ou  les  flots  ou  la  brise 

Pour  tout  tresor  scelle  du  cachet  precieux. 

Lor  pur  doit  surnager,  et  sa  gloire  est  certaine : 

Dites  en  souriant  comme  ce  capitaine  : 

'  Qu'il  aborde,  si  c'est  la  volonte  des  dieux ! ' 

Le  vrai  Dieu,  le  Dieu  fort,  est  le  Dieu  des  idees. 

Sur  nos  fronts  ou  le  germe  est  jete  par  le  sort, 

Repandons  le  Savoir  en  fecondes  ondees : 

Puis,  recueillant  le  fruit  tel  que  de  1'ame  il  sort, 

Tout  empreint  du  parfum  des  saintes  solitudes, 

Jetons  Voeuvre  a  la  mer,  la  mer  des  multitudes: 

— Dieu  la  prendra  du  doigt  pour  la  conduire  au  port! 

This  poem  has  been  described  as  pessimistic !  while  one  modern 
critic  is  sufficiently  generous  to  refer  to  its  philosophy  as  an  '  optimisme 
desespereY  For  my  part  I  find  in  these  verses  no  element  of  despair, 
but  rather  the  joyful  conviction  that  a  purpose  of  progress  runs  through 
the  universe,  that  human  struggle  towards  an  ideal  is  never  wasted, 
that  on  the  failures  as  well  as  the  successes  of  past  ages  the  future 
generations  are  built.  '  La  race  humaine,'  said  de  Vigny  towards  the 
end  of  his  life,  '  a  fini  par  comprendre  que  sa  pensee  est  la  creatrice  des 
mondes  invisibles.' 

The  supreme  virtue  is  plainly  indicated  in  this  poem  as  the  virtue 
of  self-sacrifice.  Alfred  de  Vigny  never  lost  the  deep  mark  that  the 
religious  training  of  his  childhood  had  left  upon  him :  he  was  moreover, 


J.    K.    HOOKER  7 

by  temperament,  religious.  In  later  life  a  constant  study  of  the  Bible 
filled  many  of  his  solitary  hours :  and  more  than  once  in  his  Journal 
he  offers  homage  to  the  moral  beauty  of  Christ,  shown  in  the  self- 
sacrifice  of  his  death.  This  eminently  Christian  quality  was  deeply 
ingrained  in  the  poet's  conception  of  a  moral  ideal.  As  early  as  1843, 
in  La  Mart  du  Loup,  the  sacrifice  of  the  parent  for  his  young  was  held 
up  in  immortal  poetry  to  the  admiration  of  mankind.  But  then  the 
sacrifice  was  barren.  The  young  had  but  to  follow  in  the  steps  of  their 
parent,  completing  the  endless  cycle  of  blood  and  carriage.  '  Souffre 
et  meurs  sans  parler,'  said  the  poet,  for  the  horizon  was  thrown  into 
shadow  by  the  heavy  mantle  of  death.  But  the  captain  in  La  Bouteille 
a  la  Mer  (1858),  in  his  last  moments,  sang  of  the  future  blessings  that 
his  death  would  transmit  to  the  human  race.  In  1847  Alfred  de  Vigny 
wrote : 

Sacrifice,  6  toi  seul  peut-6tre  es  la  vertu ! 

Yet  it  was  not  till  the  last  years  of  his  life  that  a  definite  meaning, 
filled  with  a  vital  hope,  lit  up  the  sublime  altruism  that  the  poet  had 
always  sung.  In  the  Bouteille  a  la  Mer,  that  meaning  finds  its  clear 
and  ultimate  expression. 

Complete  annihilation  of  All  is  an  idea  in  itself  repulsive  to  the 
human  mind.  Alfred  de  Vigny  at  one  moment  in  his  intellectual 
career  seemed  trembling  on  the  brink  of  this  abyss.  Yet  to  the  keen 
observer,  the  final  course  that  he  would  take  might  have  been  foreseen. 
From  his  first  childhood,  his  veritable  world  was  a  world  of  dreams.  It 
was  the  one  universe  that  escaped  the  laws  of  decay  and  death,  which 
ruled  all  else.  Its  existence  was  to  him  a  conviction,  for  from  its 
depths  proceeded  the  forces  that  moved  his  inner  being,  that  directed 
the  whole  conduct  of  his  life.  '  The  individual  only  becomes  regenerate 
by  the  power  of  an  idea.'  His  God  was  the  '  God  of  Ideas ' : 
Le  vrai  Dieu,  le  Dieu  fort,  est  le  Dieu  des  idees ; 

that  is,  not  ideas  which  have  become  God,  as  a  French  critic  suggests1, 
but  a  God  whose  sole  interest  is  in  the  Idea,  a  God  who  is  indifferent 
to  the  groans  of  the  physical  universe,  but  who  will  not  let  perish  one 
single  human  thought : 

Que  Dieu  peut  bien  permettre  &  des  eaux  insensees 
De  perdre  des  vaisseaux,  mais  non  pas  des  pense'es : 

and  the  whole  poem  shows  that  de  Vigny  might  well  have  added  to 
the  vessel,  the  captain  and  his  crew. 

1  M.  Dorison :  '  Le  Dieu  des  idees,  qu'est-ce  autre  chose  que  lea  ide"es  devenues  Dieu?' 


8  The  Optimism  of  Alfred  de    Vigny 

A  study  of  his  verse  makes  it  evident  that  de  Vigny 's  conception 
of  God  was  a  personal  one.  The  poet  from  the  bitterness  of  life  was 
driven  to  conceive  first  of  the  Deity  as  heartless  and  cruel,  standing 
apart  from  his  creation  in  eternal  indifference ;  but  this  conception,  we 
have  already  attempted  to  show,  was  by  its  very  essence  a  transient 
one.  Yet  still  the  facts  of  life  prevented  his  belief  in  a  Christian 
Providence ;  the  alternative  that  he  chose  was  inevitable,  he  accredited 
to  God  the  protection  of  what  was  to  him  the  supreme  reality  in  life : 
the  invisible  World  of  Ideas. 

I  pass  now  to  the  second  aspect  of  the  poet's  optimism.  It  is 
intimately  connected  with  the  first  which  I  have  been  studying:  the 
qualities  of  force  and  eternity  contained  in  the  Idea.  It  is,  in  brief, 
the  sociological  application  of  that  doctrine.  Alfred  de  Vigny  believed 
in  the  regeneration  of  humanity :  it  would  hardly  be  too  much  to  say 
that  he  dreamed  a  social  Utopia. 

This  side  to  the  poetry  of  de  Vigny  has  been  too  often  ignored1, 
yet  much  of  his  verse  is  only  understood  after  the  social  element  has 
been  fully  grasped.  Indeed  the  ultimate  value  of  any  theory  can  only 
be  felt  at  the  moment  of  realisation,  just  as  the  ultimate  value  of  any 
artistic  conception  is  only  perceptible  at  the  moment  of  its  expression. 
De  Vigny  did  not  shrink  from  boldly  applying  his  theory  to  the  world 
of  reality.  From  the  Idea  was  to  come  all  power  of  transformation. 
This  was  the  supreme  work  of  the  poet  and  the  thinker;  this  was  the 
full  meaning  of  the  virtue  of  self-sacrifice ;  this  was  the  final  j  ustification 
of  suffering  and  pain. 

As  early  as  1831  de  Vigny  predicts  the  birth  of  a  new  world :  out 
of  the  blazing  furnace  of  the  Revolution  of  1830  France  would  come 
purified  and  regenerated.  The  metal  would  be  fluid  and  molten  ready 
to  take  shape  from  new  thoughts  and  new  ideals : 

— Oui,  c'est  bien  une  Roue :   et  c'est  la  main  de  Dieu 
Qui  tient  et  fait  mouvoir  son  invisible  essieu. 
Vers  le  but  inconnu  sans  cesse  elle  s'avance. 
On  le  nomme  Paris,  le  pivot  de  la  France. 


— Je  ne  sais  si  c'est  mal,  tout  cela  :   mais  c'est  beau  ! 
Mais  c'est  grand !    Mais  on  sent  jusqu'au  fond  de  son  ame 
Qu'un  monde  tout  nouveau  se  forge  k  cette  flamme. 
Ou  soleil,  ou  com&te,  on  sent  bien  qu'il  sera, 
Qu'il  brule  ou  qu'il  eclaire,  on  sent  qu'il  tournera, 
Qu'il  surgira  brillant  k  travers  la  fumee, 
Qu'il  vgtira  pour  tous  quelque  forme  anime'e, 

1  M.  Dorison  has  written  an  interesting  study  on  this  aspect  of  de  Vigny 's  work,  to 
which  I  would  express  my  debt:   Un  Symbole  Social :  Alfred  de  Vigny,  Paris,  1894. 


J.    K.    HOOKER 

Symbolique,  imprevue  et  pure,  on  ne  salt  quoi, 

Qu'il  sera  pour  chacun  le  signe  d'une  foi, 

Couvrira,  devant  Dieu,  la  terre  comme  un  voile, 

Ou  de  son  avenir  sera  comme  1'etoile, 

Et,  dans  des  flots  d'amour  et  d'union,  enfin 

Guidera  la  famille  humaine  vers  sa  fin, 

Mais  que  peut-dtre  aussi,  brulant,  pareil  au  glaive 

Dont  le  feu  dessecha  les  pleurs  dans  les  yeux  d'Eve, 

II  ira  labourant  le  globe  comme  un  champ, 

Et  semant  la  douleur  du  levant  au  couchant. 

Si  la  force  divine 

Est  en  ceux  dont  1'esprit  sent,  prevoit  et  devine, 
Elle  est  ici — Le  Ciel  la  revere. — 

Mais  les  cendres,  je  crois,  ne  sont  jamais  steriles. 

— Ensuite,  Voyageur,  tu  quitteras  Tenceinte, 

Tu  jeteras  au  vent  cette  poussiere  eteinte, 

Puis  levant  seul  ta  voix  dans  le  desert  sans  bruit, 

Tu  crieras:    '  Pour  longlemps  le  monde  est  dans  la  nuitf 

This  indeed  is  but  the  first  cry  of  hope.  The  poet  saw  for  a 
moment  a  ray  of  pure  light  amid  the  lurid  glare  of  revolutionary 
France;  but  he  was  careful  to  note  that  ray,  and  to  cling  to  its 
memory.  The  reader  cannot  fail  to  notice  the  rush  of  trembling 
enthusiasm  which  animates  these  verses,  before  darkness  closes  once 
more  upon  the  heavens.  It  is  the  spirit  of  desperate  desire,  to  be 
transformed  later  into  ardent  faith. 

In  1844  the  hope  that  Alfred  de  Vigny  had  nourished,  when  France 
was  passing  through  the  throes  of  a  revolution,  became  clearer  and 
more  insistent.  In  those  throes  he  had  seen  the  birth  of  a  new  spirit 
which  was  to  give  fresh  life  to  the  world ;  but  the  actual  day  was  still 
far  off.  And  even  thirteen  years  later  he  sings : 

Le  jour  n'est  pas  leve. — Nous  en  sommes  encore 
Au  premier  rayon  blanc  qui  precede  1'aurore 
Et  dessine  la  terre  aux  bords  de  1'horizon. 


Mais  notre  esprit  rapide  en  mouvements  abonde ; 
Ouvrons  tout  1'arsenal  de  ses  puissants  ressorts. 
L'invisible  est  re"el.     Les  ames  ont  leur  monde 
Ou  sont  accumules  d'impalpables  tresors. 

(La  Maison  du  Berger,  1844.) 

We  see  here  the  same  conviction  that  in  the  realm  of  thought 
worlds  are  made  and  unmade;  that  mind  is  the  moulding  force  in 
human  history ;  yet  the  optimism  is  purer,  there  are  no  saving  clauses, 
but  only  a  sure  hope  in  the  destiny  of  the  race.  It  is  notable  too  that 
humanity  shall  work  out  its  own  salvation,  that  the  health-giving  spirit 


10  The  Optimism  of  Alfred  de   Vigny 

shall  proceed  from  its  own  heart.  For  the  soul  of  man  possesses  its 
treasure-house.  At  this  point  then  de  Vigny 's  optimism,. if  not  much 
stronger,  had  become  at  least  more  certain  of  itself.  The  cool  tran- 
quillity of  the  verses  carries  even  more  power,  a  deeper  sense  of 
certitude,  than  the  burning  fever  which  animated  the  excited  poetry 
of  Paris.  His  belief  in  the  future  was  becoming  more  matured  as 
he  gave  to  the  consideration  of  his  theories  long-searching  study  and 
profound  thought. 

In  La  Maison  du  Berger  de  Vigny  had  written : 

Diamant  sans  rival,  que  tes  feux  illuininent 
Les  pas  lents  et  tardifs  de  1'humaine  Kaison ! 

In  1862  he  took  up  the  same  metaphor  and  in  a  poem  entitled  Les 
Oracles  defined  the  full  meaning  he  gave  to  the  symbol  of  the  diamond, 
the  fairest  legacy  that  the  races  of  the  world  left  the  generations  that 
came  after  them : 

Le  Diamant !     C'est  1'art  des  choses  ideales, 

Et  ses  rayons  d'argent,  d'or,  de  pourpre  et  d'azur, 

Ne  cessent  de  lancer  les  deux  lueurs  ^gales 

Des  pensers  les  plus  beaux,  de  1'amour  le  plus  pur. 

II  porte  du  genie  et  transmet  les  empreintes. 

Oui,  de  ce  qui  survit  des  nations  eteintes, 

C'est  lui  le  plus  brillant  tresor  et  le  plus  dur. 

And  on  March  10,  1863,  just  six  months  before  his  death,  the  poet 
proclaimed  at  last  his  faith  in  imperishable  verse : 

Ton  regne  est  arrive,  Pur  Esprit,  roi  du  monde  ! 
Quand  ton  aile  d'azur  dans  la  nuit  nous  surprit, 
Deesse  de  nos  mceurs,  la  guerre  vagabonde 
Regnait  sur  nos  aieux.     Aujourd'hui,  c'est  1'Ecrit, 
L'ECRIT  UNIVERSEL,  parfois  imperissable, 
Que  tu  graves  au  marbre  ou  tratnes  sur  le  sable. 
Colombe  au  bee  d'airain !   VISIBLE  SAINT  ESPRIT. 

(U  Esprit  Pur,  1863.) 

These  lines,  among  the  last  that  Alfred  de  Vigny  ever  wrote,  are 
tinted  by  no  shadow  of  pessimism,  but  coloured  with  the  brilliant  hues 
of  hope  for  the  future.  And  still  further,  they  are  the  song  of  triumph 
for  past  hopes  that  have  been  realised,  for  great  ideals  that  have  been 
achieved.  His  optimism  now  is  pure  with  a  crystal  clearness,  no  more 
clouded  by  storms  of  misery  and  doubt :  he  sees  through  the  over- 
hanging mists,  beyond  into  the  endless  stretches  of  the  heavens — '  the 
long  savannahs  of  the  blue.' 

The  optimism  of  Alfred  de  Vigny  gathers  strength  from  the  fact 
that  it  runs  counter  to  all  the  early  tendencies  of  his  youth,  to  the 
accumulated  influence  of  his  environment,  and  to  the  first  development 


J.    K.    HOOKER 


11 


of  his  manhood.  It  was  not  an  empty  satisfaction  with  the  world  as 
it  is :  it  sprang  from  a  profound  conviction  of  the  power  of  evil.  It 
was  not  the  natural  sequence  to  a  life  of  thoughtless  ease  and  to  the 
gift  of  a  silver  spoon  at  birth :  it  rose  from  the  very  depths  of  despair 
and  sorrow.  It  was  not,  finally,  the  mere  swing  of  the  pendulum,  a 
rapid  traverse  from  utter  disenchantment  to  wild  hopefulness :  it  was 
the  last  stage  in  the  gradual  development  of  a  profound  mind.  There 
was  no  throwing  off  the  mantle  of  the  past  and  taking  on  the  silken 
cloak  of  the  present :  there  was  no  renouncement  and  denial  of  ex- 
perience, to  make  possible  the  acceptation  of  a  new  theory.  Every 
link  in  the  chain  of  mental  progress  was  fast  riveted,  and  together 
they  formed  one  harmonious  whole.  The  clouds  had  hidden  from  Alfred 
de  Vigny,  from  the  very  first,  their  silver  lining :  and  when  the  poet 
painted  them  he  remained  true  to  the  experience  of  his  life,  making 
them  heavy  with  shadow  and  gloom :  yet  their  most  consistent  efforts 
could  not  prevent  him  from  piercing  at  last  the  dark  exterior  and 
reaching  the  inner  light. 

Looking  back  over  his  own  life  and  over  that  of  the  men  of  his 
generation,  reflecting  over  the  course  of  human  history,  he  saw  that, 
where  cities  had  disappeared  and  where  empires  had  been  swallowed  up, 
there  remained  to  the  world  the  intangible  gifts  which  they  had  offered 
—the  Idea  persisted,  after  the  mind  which  gave  it  birth  had  passed 
away. 

The  thinkers  were  the  rulers  of  the  world :  yet  thought  in  itself 
was  not  sufficient  to  turn  the  great  wheel.  Alfred  de  Vigny  was  a 
poet,  and  knew  the  barrenness  of  pure  thought,  the  sterility  of  erudition. 
It  was  Love  with  his  magic  touch  that  breathed  the  spirit  of  life  into 
the  Idea,  which  gave  it  power  over  men.  '  Avec  la  science  et  1'amour 
on  fait  tourner  le  monde  ! '  From  the  union  of  these  two  germs  of  life 
was  born  the  optimism  of  Alfred  de  Vigny. 

J.  K.  ROOKER. 

LONDON. 


WIELAND'S  TEANSLATION   OF   SHAKESPEARE. 

COMPARATIVELY  early  in  life  did  Christoph  Martin  Wieland  become 
interested  in  English  literature.  During  his  school-days  at  Kloster- 
bergen  (1748-50)  he  read  Richardson's  Pamela  in  a  French  translation. 
His  actual  study  of  the  English  language,  however,  did  not  begin  until 
after  he  had  entered  the  University  of  Tubingen  in  17521.  One  of  the 
first  English  poets  in  whom  he  was  interested  was  James  Thomson,  the 
influence  of  whose  Seasons  is  evident  on  Wieland's  early  writings2 ;  and 
his  friendship  with  Bodmer  and  residence  in  Zurich  (1752-54)  naturally 
turned  his  attention  to  Milton.  The  pathetic  '  letters '  of  the  English 
poetess  Elizabeth  Rowe  nourished  his  emotional  nature  and  furnished 
materials  for  his  Brief e  von  Verstorbenen  an  hinterlassene  Freunde 
(1753);  and  still  more  was  he  captivated  by  the  sweet  melancholy 
of  Edward  Young's  Night  Thoughts3.  The  attraction  which  Young 
had  for  him  was,  however,  of  short  duration.  Richardson  also  made 
a  strong  appeal  to  Wieland,  and  the  influence  of  that  writer  is  to  be 
seen,  not  merely  in  the  theme  of  his  domestic  tragedy,  Clementina  von 
Porretta  (1760),  but  also  in  his  moral  story,  Araspes  und  Panthea 
(1758)4.  Another  of  his  early  dramas,  Lady  Johanna  Gray  (1758), 
shows  his  dependence  on  the  English  dramatist  Rowe.  Swift  does  not 
seem  to  have  appealed  very  strongly  to  him5,  but  Prior  was  a  particular 
favourite6;  and  in  his  Der  neue  Amadis,  he  is  directly  indebted  to 
Spenser's  Faerie  Queene"7.  A  greater  influence  than  any  of  these  writers 
was,  however,  that  of  Shaftesbury,  whom  Wieland  accepted  as  his 
teacher  after  he  abandoned  Young  in  17568. 

1  Cf.  letter  to  Schinz,  March  26,  1752  (Ausgewdhlte  Briefe,  i,  p.  55). 

2  K.  Gjerset,  Der  Einfluss  von  Thomsons  Jahreszeiten  auf  die  deutsche  Literatur  des 
18.  Jahrhunderts,  Heidelberg,  1898,  pp.  36 — 40 ;  also  Koberstein,  Geschichte  der  deutschen 
Nationalliteratur,  5.  Aufl.,  in,  p.  118. 

3  J.  Barnstorff,  Youngs  Nachtgedanken  und  ihr  Einfluss  auf  die  deutsche  Literatur, 
Bamberg,  1895,  pp.  58—63. 

4  E.  Schmidt,  Richardson,  Rousseau  und  Goethe,  Jena,  1875,  p.  46. 

5  Cf.  Schnorr's  Archiv  fur  Literaturgeschichte,  xin,  p.  496. 

6  Wukadinovic,  Prior  in  Deutschland,  Graz,  1895,  pp.  48—58. 

7  L.  Lenz,  Wielands  Verhaltnis  zu  Spenser,  Pope  und  Swift,  Hersfeld,  1903. 

8  Allgemeine  deutsche  Biographic,  XLII,  p.  412  and  Wieland's  Werke  (Hempel)  i,  p.  20. 


F.    W.    MEISNEST 


13 


The  first  reference  to  Shakespeare  is  found  in  a  conversation  on 
March  15,  1755,  with  Magister  F.  D.  Ring,  reported  in  the  latter's 
diary : 

Am  Sonntag  den  15.  Marz  [1755]  fvihrte  ich  nach  der  Predigt  den  Herrn  Nolten 
S.  Min.  Cand.  aus  Berlin  zu  Wieland,  der  von  Shakespear  viel  schwatzte  und 
glaubte,  er  werde  ewig  der  Englander  Bewunderung  bleiben,  ohngeachtet  er  manch- 
mal  gigantische  Vorstellungen  hat  und  alle  Teufel  aus  der  Holle  auf's  Theater 
bringt1. 

Most  important  for  the  purpose  of  showing  Wieland's  attitude 
towards  and  his  appreciation  of  Shakespeare's  works  is  his  letter  of 
April  24,  1758,  to  Zimmermann.  After  censuring  Voltaire  for  his 
violent  denunciation  of  Shakespeare  he  writes  : 

Vous  connoissez  sans  doute  cet  homme  extraordinaire  par  ses  ouvrages.  Je  1'aime 
avec  toutes  ses  fautes.  II  est  presque  unique  a  peindre  d'apres  la  nature  les  hommes, 
les  mo3urs,  les  passions ;  il  a  le  talent  precieux  d'embellir  la  nature  sans  lui  faire 
perdre  ses  proportions.  Sa  fecondite  est  inepuisable.  II  paroit  n'avoir  jamais  etudie 
que  la  nature  seule.  II  est  tantot  le  Michel-Ange  tantot  le  Correge  des  poe'tes.  Ou 
trouver  plus  de  conceptions  hardies  et  pourtant  justes  de  pensees  nouvelles,  belles, 
sublimes,  frappantes,  et  d'expressions  vives,  heureuses,  animees,  que  dans  les  ouvrages 
de  ce  genie  incomparable  ?  Malheur  a  celui  qui  souhaite  de  la  regularite  a  un  genie 
d'un  tel  ordre,  et  qui  ferme  les  yeux  ou  qui  n'a  pas  des  yeux  pour  sentir  ses  beautes 
uniquement  parce  qu'il  n'a  pas  celle  que  la  piece  la  plus  detestable  de  Pradon  a 
dans  un  degre  plus  eminent  que  le  Cid2. 

No  such  intelligent,  enthusiastic  praise  had  been  given  to  Shake- 
speare by  any  of  the  other  prominent  German  critics  or  scholars  previous 
to  this  time,  not  even  by  Lessing,  Nicolai,  or  Mendelssohn. 

Just  when  arid  through  what  means  Wieland  first  became  interested 
in  Shakespeare  cannot  be  definitely  decided.  Possibly  the  appreciative 
remarks  on  Shakespeare  and  the  potentialities  of  English  tragedy  in 
Beat  de  Muralt's  Lettres  sur  les  Anglais  (Berne,  1712 ;  Zurich,  1725  ; 
Cologne,  1726)  may  have  directed  his  attention  to  the  English  poet3. 
Other  possible  sources  were  Voltaire's  works,  of  which  Wieland  con- 
fessed himself  a  constant  reader  and  admirer4 ;  and  even  Gottsched, 
who  was  to  him  in  his  youth  a  'magnus  Apollo5,'  may  have  been  instru- 
mental in  interesting  him  in  Shakespeare.  The  English  periodicals, 
the  Tatler,  Spectator,  and  Guardian,  were  familiar  to  Wieland  in  his 

1  Schnorr's  Archiv,  xm,  p.  495. 

2  Ausgewdhlte  Brief e,  i,  271.     Cf.  the  strikingly  similar  comparison  by  Martin  Sherlock, 
A  Fragment  on  Shakespeare,  1786 :  '  To  say  that  he  possessed  the  terrible  graces  of  Michael 
Angelo,  and  the  amiable  graces  of  Correggio,  would  be  a  weak  encomium:  he  had  them 
and  more.'     (Quoted  from  Charles  Knight,  Studies  of  Shakspere,  London,  1868.) 

3  Cf.  Otto  von  Greyerz,  B.  L.  von  Muralt,  Berne,  1888 ;  M.  Koch  in  Englische  Studien, 
xxiv,  p.  317;   also  Bottiger,  Literarische  Zustdnde  und  Zeitgenossen,  Leipzig,  1838,  i, 
p.  174. 

4  Cf.  Wieland,  Ein  Wort  iiber  Voltaire  besonders  als  Historiker  (1773) ;    (Werke,  ed. 
Goschen,  1839-40,  xxxvi,  p.  174). 

5  Letter  to  Bodmer,  March  6,  1752  (Ausgewdhlte  Brief  e,  i,  p.  46). 


14  Wieland1  s  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

school-days ;  while  the  Leipzig  journal,  Neue  Erweiterungen  der 
Erkenntniss  und  des  Vergnugens  (1753),  contained  a  translation  of 
Rowe's  Life  of  Shakespeare.  Lastly,  Nicolai's  Briefe  iiber  die  itzigen 
Zustdnde  der  schonen  Wissenschaften  (1754)  and  Young's  Essay  on 
Original  Composition  (1759;  translated,  1760),  with  their  important 
references  to  Shakespeare,  were  no  doubt  known  to  him. 

The  immediate  suggestion  for  translating  Shakespeare  was  probably 
derived  from  various  sources.  Gervinus  believed  that  if  it  had  not 
been  for  Lessing's  recommendation  of  a  translation  of  Shakespeare's 
masterpieces  (Litter aturbriefe,  No.  xvn),  Wieland  would  not  have 
undertaken  the  task1.  The  fact  is  that  Wieland  cared  little  for 
Lessing's  opinions  at  this  time.  When  Mendelssohn  subjected 
Wieland's  tragedy  Clementina  von  Porretta  (1760)  to  a  severe  criticism 
(Litteraturbriefe,  Nos.  cxxm,  cxxiv),  Wieland  remarked :  '  der  Miss- 
achtung  meiner  Clementina  von  Lessing  und  Compagnie  achte  ich 
nicht  mehr  als  des  Summens  der  Sommermticken  oder  des  Quackens 
der  Laubfrosche2.'  Far  more  significant  to  Wieland  must  have  been 
the  urgent  demand  for  a  translation  of  English  stage-plays,  especially 
those  of  Shakespeare,  contained  in  a  review  of  Neue  Probestucke  der 
englischen  Schaubuhne  (3  vols.,  Basel,  1758)  in  the  Bibliothek  der  schonen 
Wissenschaften  (vi,  1760,  pp.  60-74).  The  work  reviewed  contains 
Shakespeare's  Romeo  and  Juliet  in  iambic  blank  verse,  besides  dramas 
by  Young,  Addison,  Dryden,  Otway,  Congreve  and  Rowe,  all  translated 
from  the  original  '  von  einem  Liebhaber  des  guten  Geschmacks.'  The 
reviewer  directs  translators  to  Shakespeare  as  follows : 

Wir  haben  schon  mehr  als  einmal  gewiinscht,  dass  sich  em  guter  Uebersetzer  an 
die  englische  Schaubuhne  wagen,  und  seine  Landsleute  hauptsachlich  mit  den 
vortrefflichen  alteii  Stiicken  des  Shakespear,  Beaumont  und  Fletcher,  Otway,  und 
andern  bekannt  rnachen  moehte.  Es  wiirde  vielleicht  fur  die  deutsche  Schaubuhne 
weit  vortheilhafter  gewesen  seyn,  wenn  sie  jenen  nachgeahmt  hatte,  als  dass  sie  sich 
die  franzosische  Galanterie  hinreissen  lassen,  und  uns  mit  einer  Menge  hochst 
elender,  obgleich  hochstregelmassiger  Stiicke  bereichert  hat.... Wir  empfehlen 
hauptsachlich  dem  Uebersetzer  die  Shakespeareischen  Stiicke :  sie  sind  die  schonsten, 
aber  auch  die  schwersten,  aber  um  deste  eher  zu  iibersetzen,  wenn  man  niitzlich 
seyn  will3. 

1  Geschichte  der  deutschen  Dichtung,  5th  ed.,  iv,  p.  422,  a  view  which  is  concurred  in 
by  Dr  Merscheberger  (Shakespeare-  Jahrbuch,  xxv,  p.  209). 

2  E.  Schmidt,  Richardson,  Rousseau  und  Goethe,  p.  48. 

3  In  January  1759  Nicolai  surrendered  the  editorship  of  the  Bibliothek  to  Ch.  F.  Weisse. 
But  this  review  with  its  significant  reference  to  Shakespeare  is  not  in  accord  with  the  views 
of  either  of  these  editors.    Both  violently  opposed  entire  translations  of  Shakespeare,  as  is 
evident  from  their  reviews  of  Wieland's  translation  in  the  Allg.  deutsche  Bibliothek  (i,  1, 
1765,  p.  300)  and  Bibliothek  der  schonen  Wissenschaften  (ix,  1763,  p.  259).     It  seems 
probable  that  Joh.  Nic.  Meinhard  was  the  author  of  the  above  review,  which  is  quite  in 
accord  with  his  views  and  attitude  (cf.  Denkmal  des  Herrn  Joh.  Nik.  Meinhard  von  Friedr. 
Just  Eiedel,  Sammtlichte  Schriften,  Wien,  1787,  vol.  v,  pp.  97—158). 


F.    W.    MEISNEST 


15 


No  doubt  the  immediate  and  most  direct  call  for  translating 
Shakespeare  came  to  Wieland  from  his  friend  W.  D.  Sulzer,  who  upon 
returning  a  volume  of  Wielarid's  copy  of  Shakespeare  (Jan.  14,  1759), 
expressed  the  hope  that  some  skilful  genius  would  translate  and 
analyse  Shakespeare's  plays  in  the  manner  of  Brumoy's  Theatre  des 
Grecs  (see  below,  p.  25). 

Furthermore  the  decade  1760-70  was  characterised  by  an  awaken- 
ing of  interest  in  English  literature.  Gottsched  and  his  followers  had 
lost  their  prestige,  and  the  younger  writers  looked  to  England  for  their 
literary  standards.  In  1760  the  Shakespeare  cult,  inaugurated  by  the 
forerunners  of  the  '  Storm  and  Stress '  movement — Lessing,  Nicolai, 
Mendelssohn,  Weisse  and  Meinhard — was  well  established.  The  French 
had  their  translation  of  Shakespeare  by  La  Place,  although  it  was  very 
imperfect  and  incomplete.  Besides  the  three  scenes  of  Richard  III  (I, 
ii;  IV,  iv,  1-195  ;  V,  iii,  f 08-206,  Globe  ed.),  which  appeared  in  Neue 
Erweiterungen  der  Erkenntniss  und  des  Vergnugens  (Leipzig,  1755), 
only  two  dramas  had  been  translated  into  German:  Julius  Caesar  by 
von  Borck  (1741)  and  Romeo  and  Juliet.  The  time  was  auspicious  for 
a  complete  German  Shakespeare. 

Soon  after  Wieland  came  to  Biberach  (1760)  as  'Ratsherr'  and 
'  Kanzleidirektor,'  he  was  appointed  director  of  the  local  theatrical 
society  (Jan.  7,  1761),  which  had  existed  since  1686,  and  was  composed 
of  artisans  and  tradesmen  of  the  town1. 

The  successful  presentation  of  his  Lady  Johanna  Gray  on  the  stage 
at  Winterthur,  Switzerland,  on  July  20,  1758,  by  the  famous  Ackermann 
company  was  heralded  throughout  the  land,  and  much  was  expected  of 
him.  To  meet  this  expectation  he  translated  and  arranged  the  Tempest 
for  the  stage.  The  performance  in  September,  1761,  was  received  with 
great  applause,  and  Wieland  was  encouraged  to  continue  his  work.  He 
translated  twenty-two  dramas,  published  by  Orell,  Gessner  and  Co., 
Zurich,  between  1762  and  1766,  in  eight  volumes2. 

1  Dr  L.  F.  Ofterdinger,  Geschichte  des  Theaters  in  Biberach  (Wilrttembergische  Viertel- 
jahreshefte,  vi,  1883,  pp.  36 — 45),  gives  the  most  complete  account. 

2  Vol.  i  :  Pope's  Preface,  Mids.,  Lear;  n:  A.Y.L.,  Meas.,  Temp.;  m:  Merch.,  Tim., 
John;  iv :  Caes.,  Ant.,  Err.-,  v:  Rich.  2,  1  Hen.  IV,  2  Hen.  IV ;  vi:  Much  Ado.,  Macb., 
Two  Gent. ;  vii:  Rom.,  Oth.,  Tw.  N. ;  vin  :  Haml.,  Wint.,  Eowe's  Life  of  Shak.  (abridged). 
Various  editions  or  reprints  of  at  least  some   of  the  volumes  appeared.     Of  the  four 
copies  of  Wieland's  translation  which  I  have  seen,  two  contain-the  'Account  of  the  Life  of 
Shakespeare'  in  vol.    i,  following  Pope's  'Preface,'  instead  of  in  vol.  vin.     In  one  of  the 
copies  vol.  i  bears  the  date  1764  instead  of  1762.     The  translation  is  now  easily  accessible 
in  the   splendid  new  edition  of  Wieland's  Ubersetzungen,  Herausg.  von  Ernst  Stadler, 
3  Bde.     Berlin,  Weidmann,  1909-11. 


16  Wieland's  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

WIELAND'S  SOURCES. 

In  order  to  realize  fully  the  immensity  of  the  task,  we  must  consider 
that  Wieland  undertook  the  work  without  a  Shakespeare  library. 
There  are  no  indications  in  his  translation  or  writings  which  show  that 
he  used  even  the  meagre  critical  works  on  Shakespeare  in  existence 
at  that  time,  as :  Theobald's  Shakespeare  Restored  (1726),  Samuel 
Johnson's  Miscellaneous  Observations  on  the  Tragedy  of  Macbeth  (1745), 
Upton's  Critical  Observations  on  Shakespeare  (1746),  Edwards's  The 
Canons  of  Criticism  and  Glossary,  being  a  Supplement  to  Warburtons 
Edition  of  Shakespeare  (1748),  Grey's  Critical,  Historical  and  Explana- 
tory Notes  on  Shakespeare  (2  vols.,  1755).  According  to  all  past 
investigations  his  working  library  consisted  of  three  works:  Warbur- 
ton's  edition  of  Shakespeare's  Works  (8  vols.,  Dublin,  1747),  Boyer's 
French-English  and  English-French  Dictionary  (2  vols.,  Lyons,  1756), 
and  a  dictionary  of  Shakespearean  Words  and  Phrases,  which  his  friend 
La  Roche  recommended  to  him  as*  indispensable,  but  whose  author's 
name  Wieland  had  forgotten1. 

Johnsons  Dictionary. 

Although  no  reference  is  to  be  found  in  Wieland's  writings  to 
Samuel  Johnson's  Dictionary  of  the  English  Language  (2  vols.,  London, 
1755),  which  was  the  most  comprehensive  dictionary  at  the  fcime  and 
was  well  known  throughout  Germany,  it  seems  quite  incredible  that  a 
translator  of  Shakespeare  should  attempt  his  difficult  task  without  it. 
A  careful  comparison  discloses  a  few  translations  which  point  very 
strongly  to  the  use  of  Johnson's  Dictionary.  It  is  evident  that  only 
those  passages  can  be  considered  which  contain  unusual  words  not 
explained  in  any  of  the  works  in  Wieland's  possession,  as  Warbur ton's 
Shakespeare,  Boyer's  Dictionary,  Ludwig's  Dictionary,  or  whose  meaning 
cannot  be  readily  ascertained  from  the  context2. 

1  Seuffert,   Prolegomena  zu  einer   Wieland- Ausgabe,   Berlin,    1905,    in   6;    Bottiger, 
Litterarische  Zustdnde,  vol.  i,  p.  196  ;  Stadler,  Quellen  und  Forsch.,  cvn,  pp.  21-2.     Brief 
glossaries  were  appended  to  the  editions  of  Eowe  (1714),  Hanmer  (1744)  and  Hugh  Blair 
(1753) ;  but  I  could  find  no  work  corresponding  to  that  recommended  by  La  Eoche. 

2  Boyer,  The  Royal  Dictionary,  French  and  English  and  English  and  French,  London, 
1764,  as  well  as  Ludwig,  Teutsch-Englisches  Lexicon,  3.  Aufi.  1765,  and  Ludwig,  English, 
German  and  French  Dictionary,  3.  Aufl.,  Leipzig,  1763,  were  used  in  this  investigation. 
The  Dictionary  by  Ludwig,  which  Wieland  may  have  used,  was  fully  as  complete  as 
Boyer's  and  perhaps  more  extensively  used  in  Germany.     It  is  mentioned  by  Weisse  in 
his  review  of  the  first  volume  of  Wieland's  translation  in  the  Bibliothek  der  schonen 
Wissenschaften  (ix,  261,  1763) :  '  Jeder  Leser  muss  so  billig  seyn,  sich  zu  erinnern,  dass 
zur  Uebersetzung  eines  Shakespeare  mehr  als  Ludwigs  Worterbuch  vonnothen.'     Unless 
otherwise  specified,  all  references  to  Shakespeare's  works  are  to  The  Globe  Edition  and 
Wieland's  Gesammelte  Schriften,  2.  Abt.  Ubersetzungen,  hersg.  von  Stadler,  3  Bde.  Berlin, 
1909-11. 


F.    W.    MEISNEST  17 

Lear,  n,  1,  67  :  'When  I  dissuaded  him  from  his  intent,  And  found 
him  pight  to  do  it.'  W.,  i,  116:  'Als  ich  ihn  von  seinem  Vorhaben 
abmahnte,  und  ihn  so  entschlossen  fand.'  Johnson's  Diet.  :  '  pight, 
determined.  I  found  him  pight  to  do  it.  Shakesp.' 

Lear,  II,  2,  167  :  '  Good  king,  that  must  approve  the  common  saw.' 
W.,  I,  123:  'Du  guter  Konig  must  izt  das  alte  Sprilchwort  erfahren.' 
Johnson:  'saw,  saying,  maxim.  Good  king,  that  must  approve  the 
common  saw,  etc.  Shakesp.' 

Lear,  n,  4,  178:  'To  scant  my  sizes.'  W.,  I,  128:  'Du  bist  nicht 
fahig...mi>  an  meinem  Unterhalt  abzubrechen.'  Johnson:  'sizes,  a 
settled  quantity.  In  the  following  passage  it  seems  to  signify  the 
allowance  of  the  table :  whence  they  say  a  sizer  at  Cambridge.  "  'Tis 
not  in  thee,  To  cut  off  my  train,  to  scant  my  sizes,  etc."  Shakespeare's 
King  Lear'  For  Wieland  to  have  divined  this  rare  meaning,  which  is 
specifically  Cambridge  use  (see  N.E.D.,  s.v.),  would  have  been  remarkable. 

Haml.  n,  2,  362  :  '  escoted.'  W.,  3,  430  :  '  salariert.'  Johnson :  '  To 
pay  a  man's  reckoning ;  to  support.  What,  are  they  children  ?  Who 
maintains  them  ?  How  are  they  escoted  ?  Shakespeare's  Hamlet.' 
Here  Wieland  may  also  have  learned  the  correct  interpretation  from 
the  foot-note  'escoted,  paid'  in  Johnson's  edition  of  Shakespeare's 
Works. 

Macb.  iv,  1,  37:  'a  baboon's  blood.'  W. :  'ernes  Sauglings  Blut.' 
Johnson:  'baboon  [babouin,  Fr.  It  is  supposed  by  Skinner  to  be  the 
augmentation  of  babe,  and  to  import  a  great  babe].  A  monkey  of 
the  largest  kind.'  Wieland  undoubtedly  was  misled  by  this  curious 
etymology  in  Johnson's  Dictionary,  who  got  it  from  Stephano  Skinner's 
Etymologicon  Linguae  Anglicanae  (London,  1671).  The  same  occurs 
also  in  Nathan  Bailey's  An  Universal  Etymological  English  Dictionary 
(London,  1740),  but  not  in  Boyer.  It  is  quite  improbable  that  Wieland 
should  have  mistaken  '  baboon  '  for  '  babe '  as  Stadler  (Q.F.,  evil,  p.  42) 
supposes.  Furness  (Macbeth  ed.)  has  it  charged  to  Eschenburg :  '  He 
mistook  baboon  for  baby ',. .  .&nd,  so  far  will  a  naughty  deed  shine  in  this 
good  world,  this  baby  of  Eschenburg's  has  been  adopted  by  Schiller  (of 
course),  Benda,  Kaufmann  and  Ortlepp.' 

Shakespeare  Editions. 

Undoubtedly  Wieland  had  no  opportunity  to  examine  the  various 
Shakespeare  editions  before  selecting  Warburton's:  The  Works  of 
Shakespeare  (Dublin,  8  vols.),  with  its  numerous  wild  conjectures,  as  the 
basis  for  his  translation.  Being  extensively  advertised  as  superior  to  all 

M.  L.  R.  IX.  2 


18  Wieland's  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

other  editions,  '  furnishing  the  genuine  text,  collated  with  all  the  former 
editions,  with  critical  and  explanatory  notes,'  etc.,  it  was  but  natural 
that  Wieland  should  choose  it.  Even  Eschenburg  approved  his 
selection :  '  Herr  Hofrath  Wieland  bediente  sich  freylich  nur  der 
Warburtonschen  Ausgabe,  und  er  hatte  sehr  Recht,  dieser  den  Vorzug 
zu  geben1.' 

The  most  reliable  text,  as  well  as  commentary,  was  contained  in  one 
of  the  later  editions  of  Theobald's  The  Works  of  Shakespeare  (London, 
7  vols.,  later  editions  in  8  vols. :  1740,  1752,  1757,  1762  and  1767)2. 

While  collating  the  passages  wherein  Wieland  deviated  from  War- 
burton,  without  any  thought  of  his  having  used  other  editions,  I  noticed 
that  all  the  similarities  to  Johnson's  edition  were  in  Hamlet  and 
Winters  Tale  in  the  last  volume  of  the  translation.  If  these  were  all 
accidental,  then  similar  results  might  be  expected  from  the  other  seven 
volumes.  To  my  surprise  no  definite  similarities  were  found.  When  I 
discovered  that  Johnson's  The  Plays  of  William  Shakespeare  (8  vols., 
London)  were  published  in  October,  lY653,  and  Wieland's  last  volume 
in  1766,  my  suspicions  were  aroused4.  There  is  then  the  time  from 
Oct.  1765  to  Sept.  1766,  or  about  ten  months,  when  it  was  possible 
for  Wieland  to  have  used  Johnson's  edition. 

Very  probably  Wieland  had  only  Warburton's  edition  in  his  posses- 
sion. But  in  some  way  or  other  he  must  have  had  access  to  other 
editions  and  works,  either  in  the  extensive  library  of  his  friend  Graf 
Stadion,  who  was  a  student  of  English  literature,  and  at  whose  home 
Wieland  frequently  visited  while  working  on  the  translation,  or  in 
some  of  the  libraries  adjacent  to  Biberach,  as  Zurich  or  Geneva. 
He  no  doubt  borrowed  books  from  Zurich,  and  now  and  then  asked 
his  friend  Gessner  to  look  up  references  for  him.  Thus  he  writes  on 
Sept.  30,  1762,  to  his  publishers  at  Zurich : 

A  pro  po,  das  englische  Wort,  dessen  deutschen  A  equivalent  ich  nicht  habe  finden 
konnen,  ist  nicht  spider,  sondern  spinner  ;  spider  1st  bekannt  und  heisst  eine  Spinne. 
Spinner  aber  bedeutet,  wie  ich  glaube,  eine  Art  von  ungiftigen  Spinnen,  die  einen 
kleinen  aschfarbnen  Leib  und  sehr  lange  Beine  haben  und  bey  uns  in  Schwaben 

1  Shakespeares  Schauspiele,  xm,  p.  469. 

2  The  Works  of  Shakespeare,  London,  1767,  in  Wieland's  library  at  his  death  (Seuffert, 
Prolegomena,  in,  p.  6),  must  have  been  the  1767  edition  of  Theobald. 

3  Diet,  of  National  Biog.,  xxx,  p.  14. 

4  According    to   Wieland's    letters    he    translated  vol.    vm    between    Nov.    7,    1765 
(Denkwilrdige  Brief e,  i,   26)  and  May  8,  1766,  when  the  last  manuscript  was  sent  to 
the  publishers.     Sept.  4,  1766  Wieland  received  three  printed  copies  of  vol.  vm  (Schnorr's 
Archiv,  vn,  pp.  505  and  506). 

Stadler  (QF.,  cvi,  pp.  13 — 19)  gives  a  very  complete  collation  of  all  references  in 
Wieland's  letters  to  his  translation. 


F.    W.    MEISNEST  19 

Zimmermanncheu  genannt  werden.  Ich  habe  im  Linneus  nichts  davon  gefunden. 
Der  Hr.  Canonicus  Gessner  aber  wird  Ihnen  vermuthlich  die  Auskunft  dariiber 
geben  konnen1. 

In  the  numerous  footnotes  Wieland  refers  only  once  to  other 
Shakespeare  editors,  but  this  reference  is  significant.  In  a  half-page 
footnote  Warburton  attempts  to  justify  his  division  of  lines  among 
Lysander  and  Hermia  (Mids.,  I,  1,  168),  which  Wieland  properly 
rejects :  '  Warburton  schreibt  also  alien  alten  und  neuen  Ausgaben 
unsers  Dichters  zuwider  diese  schone  Rede :  Bey  Amors  starkstem 
Bogen,  u.s.w.  (i,  1,  169 — 176)  dem  Lysander,  und  nur  die  zween  letzten 
Verse  (177 — 8)  der  Hermia  zu.'  In  Warburton's  note  no  mention  is 
made  of  other  editors.  In  '  alien  alten  und  neuen  Ausgaben  unsers 
Dichters/  Wieland  must  have  included  Theobald's  (probably  also 
Hanmer's)  edition;  furthermore,  he  must  have  examined  the  edition 
himself,  or  had  some  one  to  do  it  for  him,  since  his  Statement  is  true. 

The  following  parallel  passages,  of  which  some  are  quite  conclusive, 
others  more  or  less  corroborative,  are  intended  to  prove  that  Wieland 
used  or  had  access  to  Theobald's  and  Johnson's  editions,  using  the 
latter  only  in  the  last  volume  of  his  translation. 

Theobald's  Edition. 

(1)  HamL,  ill,  4,  88  :  '  And  reason  panders  will.'     W. :  'Und  Ver- 
nunft  die  Kupplerin  schnoder  Luste  wird.'     Theobald :  '  Suffers  reason 
to  be  the  Bawd  to  appetite2.' 

(2)  Macb.,  I,  3,  21  :  'He  shall  live  a  man  forbid.'    W. :  'Und  so  soil 
er  in  der  Acht  Siech  und  Elend  sich  verzehren.'     Theobald :   'Forbid, 
i.e.,  as  under  a  curse,  an  interdiction.'     Johnson  :  'Forbid,  to  accurse,  to 
blast.' 

(3)  Lear,  i,  4,  322  :   '  The  untented  woundings  of  a  father's  curse.' 
W. :   '  Die  unheilbaren  Wunden  des  Fluchs  eines  Vaters.'     Theobald : 
'  A  wounding  of  such  a  sharp  inveterate  nature,  that  nothing  shall  be 
able  to  tent  it,  or  reach  the  bottom,  and  help  to  cure  it.'     Johnson : 
'  Untented,  having  no  medicaments  applied.' 

(4)  Wint,  I,  2,  41  :  '  To  let  him  there  a  month  behind  the  gest  Pre- 
fix'd  for's  parting.'     W. :  'So  will  ich's  euch  dagegen  schriftlich  geben, 
dass  ihr   ihn   einen   Monat   liber   den   bestimmten   Tag   der  Abreise 

1  Schnorr's  Archiv,  vn,  p.  492.     Wieland  must  have  inquired  about  'spinners'  in 
Mids,,  n,  2,  21  :  '  Hence  you  long-legg'd  spinners.' 

2  Unless   specified,   Theobald's   notes   or  readings  are    not    found    in    Warburton's, 
Johnson's,  or  Hanmer's  editions,  nor  in  Johnson's  or  Boyer's  Dictionaries.     References 
to  Theobald  are  to  the  1752  edition. 

2 2 


^0  Wieland's  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

behalten  sollet.'  Theobald:  'I  have  not  ventured  to  alter  the  Text, 
tho',  I  freely  own,  I  can  neither  trace,  nor  understand,  the  phrase.  I 
have  suspected,  that  the  poet  wrote :  behind  the  just,  i.e.,  the  just, 
precise  time.'  Warburton :  'Behind  the  gest.  Mr  Theobald  thinks  it 
should  be  just.  But  the  word  gest  is  right,  and  signifies  a  stage  or 
journey.'  Johnson's  ed.  contains  Warburton's  note,  but  not  Theobald's, 
whose  conjecture  has  been  universally  rejected. 

(5)  HamL,  II,  2,  354:  'An  aery  of  children,  little  eyases/  W.:  'Ein 
Nest  voll  Kinder,... kleine  Kichelchen.'  Theobald:  'Little  eyases,  i.e., 
Young  nestlings,  creatures  just  out  of  the  egg.'  (The  same  in  Johnson.) 
Johnson's  Diet. :  Eyas,  '  A  young  hawk  just  taken  from  the  nest  not 
able  to  prey  for  itself.  Hanmer!  Boyer's  Diet. :  Eyess.  '  A  young 
hawk  just  taken  from  the  nest.' 

Johnsons  Edition. 

(1)  HamL,  I,  4,  17  :  'This  heavy-headed  revel  east  and  west  makes 
us  traduced  and  tax'd  of  other  nations.'    W.:  'Diese  taumelnden  Trink- 
Gelage  machen  uns  in  Osten  und  Westen  verachtlich,  und  werden  uns 
von  den  iibrigen  Volkern  als  ein  National-Laster  vorgeworfen.'     War- 
burton  :  '  i.e.,  this  reveling  that  observes  no  hours,  but  continues  from 
morning  to  night.'     Johnson  :  '  I  construe  it  thus  :  This  heavy-headed 
revel  makes  us  traduced  east  and  west,  and  taxed  of  other  nations.' 

(2)  HamL,  I,  2,  47  :  '  The  head  ('  blood,'  Warb.)  is  not  more  native 
to  the  heart,  the  hand  more  instrumental  to  the  mouth,  than  is  the 
throne  of  Denmark  to  thy  father.'     ('  Than  to  the  throne  of  Denmark 
is  thy  father.'     Warb.,  Johns.)     W. :  '  Das  Haupt  ist  dem  Herzen  nicht 
unentbehrlicher,  noch  dem  Munde  der  Dienst  der  Hand,  als  es  dein 
Vater  dem  Throne  von  Dannemark  ist.' 

For  'blood'  instead  of  'head'  Warburton  gave  such  an  ingenious 
explanation  that  Hanmer  accepted  it  for  his  second  edition  of  Shake- 
speare. Johnson  rejected  this  conjecture,  but  adopted  the  second 
(vm,  p.  140) :  '  Part  of  this  emendation  I  have  received,  but  cannot 
discern  why  the  head  is  not  as  much  native  to  the  heart,  as  the  blood, 
that  is,  natural  and  congenial  to  it,  born  with  it,  and  co-operating  with 
it.'  Wi eland  and  Johnson  agree  in  both  particulars. 

(3)  Haml,  I,  5,  77:  'Unhousel'd,  disappointed  ('unanointed/  Warb., 
< unappointed,'  Theob.),  unaneled.'    W.:  'Ohne  Vorbereitung,  ohn  Sacra- 
ment, ohne  Fiirbitte.'     Warburton  :  '  Unhousel'd,  without  the  sacrament 
being  taken.     Mr  Pope.     Unanointed,  without  extreme  unction.     Mr 
Pope.     Unanel'd,  no  bell  rung.     Mr  Pope!     Theobald  accepted  Pope's 


F.    W.    MEISNEST  21 

i 

explanation  for  unhousel'd.  For  unanointed  he  put  unappointed,  '  i.e., 
no  Confession  of  Sins  made,  no  Reconciliation  to  Heaven,  no  Appoint- 
ment of  Penance  by  the  Church. . . .  Unaneal'd  must  signify  unanointed, 
not  having  the  extreme  unction.'  Johnson  (vm,  p.  167) :  'Disappointed 
is  the  same  as  unappointed,  and  may  be  properly  explained  by  unpre- 
pared.' This  Wieland  translated  with :  '  ohne  Vorbereitung.' 

(4)  Haml.,  in,  1,  107  :  '  That  if  you  be  honest  and  fair,  your  honesty 
should  ('  you  should,'  Warb.,  Theob.)  admit  no  discourse  to  your  beauty.' 
W. :  '  Wenn  ihr  tugendhaft  und  schon  seyd,  so  soil  eure  Tugend  nicht 
zugeben,    dass    man    eurer    Schonheit    Schmeicheleyen    vorschwaze.' 
Johnson  (vin,  p.  157) :  '  The  true  reading  seems  to  be  :  You  should 
admit  your  honesty  to  no  discourse  with  your  beauty....     The  folio 
reads  :   your  honesty  should  admit  no  discourse  to  your  beauty',   which 
was  translated  by  Wieland  and  is  the  present  accepted  reading.     War- 
burton,  Theobald  and  Hanmer  have  the  same  text  (quarto)  and  have 
no  footnote. 

(5)  Haml.,  I,  3, 122  :  '  Set  your  entreatments  at  a  higher  rate  Than 
a  command  to  parley.'    W. :  '  Sezt  eure  Conversationen  auf  einen  hb'hern 
Preiss  als  einen  Befehl,  dass  man  euch  sprechen  wolle.'     Johnson  (vin, 
p.   157):    '  Intreatments  here  means   company,  conversation,  from  the 
French  entretien.' 

(6)  Haml.,  II,  2,  362  :    'How  are  they  escoted'?      Johnson  (vin, 
p.  195):  'Escoted,  paid.'     (See  above,  p.  17.) 

(7)  Haml.,  II,  1,  71 :    '  Observe  his  inclination  in  ('  e'en,'  Warb.) 
yourself.'     W. : ' '  Ihr  miisst  trachten,  dass  ihr  durch  euch  selbst  hinter 
seine  Neigungen  kommt.'     Johnson  (vin,  p.  175) :    '  But  perhaps  in 
yourself  means  in  your  own  person,  not  by  spies.'     Warburton's  reading 
might  possibly  have  suggested  the  same  translation. 

(8)  Haml.,  II,  2,  362 :   '  Will  they  pursue  quality  no  longer  than 
they  can  sing  ? '     W.  :  '  Werden  sie  das  Handwerk  nur  so  lang  treiben, 
als  sie  singen  kb'nnen  ? '     Johnson  (vin,  p.  195)  :  '  Will  they  follow  the 
profession  of  players  no  longer  than  they  keep  the  voices  of  boys  ?' 

(9)  Haml.,  I,  3,  133  :  'I  would  not  have  you  so  slander  any  moment's 
leisure  As  to  give  words  or  talk  with  the  Lord  Hamlet.'     W. :   '  Ich 
mochte  nicht  gern,  ...dass  du  nur  einen  einzigen  deiner  Augenblike 
in  den  Verdacht  seztest,  als  wisstest  du  ihn  nicht  besser  anzuwenden, 
als   mit  dem   Prinzen   Hamlet    Worte  zu   wechseln.'      Johnson  (vm, 
p.  158):  'I  would  not  have  you  so  disgrace  your  most  idle  moments, 
as  not  to  find  better  employment  for  them  than  Lord  Hamlet's  con- 
versation.' 


22  Wieland' s  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

(10)  HamL,  II,  2, 52  :  '  My  news  shall  be  the  fruit  to  that  great  feast/ 
W. :  'Meine  Neuigkeit  soil  der  Nachtisch  von  diesem  grossen  Schmause 
sein.'     Johnson  (vm,  p.  180)  :  '  The  fruit,  The  dessert  after  the  meal.' 

(11)  HamL,  IV,  4, 33  :  'What  is  a  man,  If  his  chief  good  and  market 
of  his  time,  Be  but  to  sleep  and  feed'  ?     W. :  *  Was  ist  ein  Mann,  wenn 
alles  was  er  mit  seiner  Zeit  gewinnt,  Essen  und  Schlafen  ist  ? '     John- 
son (vm,  p.  255) :  '  If  his  highest  good,  and  that  for  which  he  sells  his 
time,  be  to  sleep  and  feed.' 

(12)  Wint.,  1, 2, 186  :  '  O'er  head  and  ears  a  fork'd  one ! '    W. :  '  Uber 
Kopf  und  Ohren  gehornt.'     Johnson  (li,  p.  243)  :  '  A  fork'd  one— That 
is,  a  horned  one ;  a  cuckold.' 

(13)  Wint.,  m,  2,  146  :  '  The  prince  your  son,  with  mere  conceit  and 
fear  Of  the  queen's  speed,  is  gone.'     W. :  '  Der  Prinz — euer  Sohn — die 
Alteration  liber  das  Verhor  der  Konigin — er  ist  todt.'     Incorrect,  after 
Johnson  (li,  p.  279):  'Of  the  event  of  the  queen's  trial.'     Johnson's 
Diet. :  '  Speed,  success,  event  of  any  action.' 

(14)  Wint.,  v,  2,  176  :  'And  I'll  swear  to  the  prince  thou  art  a  tall 
fellow  of  thy  hands.'     W. :  '  Ich  will  dem  Prinzen  schweeren,  dass  du  ein 
plumper  Kerl  mit  deinen  Handen  seyst.'     Johnson  :  '  Tall  in  that  time, 
was  the  word  used  for  stout.'     Johnson's  Diet.  :  '  Sturdy,  lusty.'     Boyer: 
'  Haut,  grand.'     Wieland  was  misled  by  Johnson's  note,  since  the  con- 
text suggests  the  opposite  meaning. 

La  Place's  Translation. 

The  first  book  which  brought  a  more  or  less  systematic  account 
of  Shakespeare  and  his  dramas  to  the  continent  was  Luigi  Riccoboni's 
Reflexions  historiques  et  critiques  sur  les  differens  Theatres  de  V Europe 
(1738 ;  pp.  156 — 178).  Whether  Wieland  was  acquainted  with  this  work, 
which  contains  a  brief  sketch  of  Shakespeare's  life  and  synopses  of  his 
important  dramas,  could  not  be  determined.  However,  it  is  quite 
certain  that  he  was  familiar  with  Pierre  Antoine  de  La  Place's  Le 
Theatre  Anglois  (London,  1746-8,  8  vols.),  of  which  the  first  four 
volumes  are  devoted  to  Shakespeare1. 

In  a  footnote  to  Der  Kaufmann  von  Venedig  (vol.  II,  p.  3)  Wieland 
says : 


1  Vol.  i:  Discours  sur  le  Theatre  Anglois  (118  pp.),  Vie  de  Shakespeare  (24  pp.),  Oth., 
rlen.  VI ;  vol.  n :  Rich.  Ill,  Haml. ,  Macb. ;  vol.  in :  Preface  du  Traducteur  (26  pp.), 
Cymb.,  Caes.,  Ant.  and  synopses  of  John,  Rich.  II,  1  Hen.  IV,  2  Hen.  IV,  Hen.  F, 


1  Hen.  VI,  2  Hen.  VI,  Hen.  VIII,  Lear,  Tit.,  Cor.,  Troil.,  Rom.;  vol.  iv:  Tim.,  Wiv., 
La  Pucelle,  par  Fletcher,  and  synopses  of  Temp.,  Mids.,  Two  Gent.,  Meas.,  Much  Ado, 
Merch.,  L.L.L.,  A.Y.L.,  Shrew,  AIVs  Well,  Tic.  N.,  Err.,  Wint. 


F.    W.    MEISNEST  23 

Die  hauffige  und  riihrende  Schonheiten  desselben  alle  Augenblike  durch  un- 
gereimte  Abialle,  aufgedunsene  Figuren,  frostige  Antithesen,  Wortspiele,  und  alle 
nur  mogliche  Fehler  des  Ausdruks  entstellt  zu  sehen,  1st  so  widrig,  dass  der  Ueber- 
sezer  sich  nicht  hat  enthalteri  konnen,  an  vielen  Orten  sich  lieber  dem  Vorwurf,  der 
den  Franzosischen  Uebersezern  gemacht  zu  werden  pflegt,  auszusezen,  als  durch  eine 
allzuschiichterne  Treue  dem  Shakespear  zu  Schaden,  und  den  Leser  ungeduldig  zu 
machen. 

The  above  reference  may  be  to  French  translators  in  general,  but 
more  probably  to  La  Place's  Shakespeare,  since  no  other  French  transla- 
tion of  the  dramas  was  published  until  Le  Tourneur's  in  1776.  The 
fact  that  Wi  eland  speaks  of  '  den  Franzosischen  Uebersezern '  may  be 
due  to  his  not  having  known  that  La  Place  was  the  translator,  since  his 
work  was  published  anonymously.  Furthermore,  it  must  have  been 
generally  known  to  scholars,  since  it  was  extensively  reviewed  in  both 
French  and  German  periodicals.  The  Journal  de  Trevoux  devoted 
at  least  seven  articles  to  it1.  Voltaire  violently  denounced  it  on 
account  of  its  many  omissions  and  too  free  adaptations2.  It  called 
forth  Fiquet  du  Bocage's  Lettre  sur  le  Theatre  Anglois,  avec  une 
Traduction  de  I' Avar e  de  Shadwell  et  de  la  Femme  de  Campagne  de 
Wicherley  (1752,  2  vols.),  which  was  reviewed  in  Gottsched's  periodical: 
Das  Neueste  aas  der  anmuthigen  Gelehrsamkeit  (Leipzig,  1753,  vol.  in, 
pp.  128 — 136).  Here,  too,  the  same  criticism  is  made  concerning  La 
Place : 

Die  Franzoseu  werden  mehr  und  mehr  auf  ihre  Nachbarn,  sonderlich  auf  die 
Englander  und  Deutschen  aufmerksam.  Ausser  andern  Beweisen  erhellet  solches 
auch,  aus  diesem  Schreiben  iiber  die  englische  Schaubiihne.  Es  hat  schon  vor 
kurzem  ein  gewis^er  Mr.  de  L.  P.  ein  Theatre  Anglois-  iibersetzet  herausgegeben. 
Der  Verfasser  dieses  Briefes  will  ihm  seinen  Werth  nicht  absprechen :  er  will  aber 
auch  seinem  Freunde  nicht  rathen,  daraus  einen  andern  Begriff  von  der  englischen 
Biihne  anzunehmen,  als  welchen  er  ihm  bisher  beygebracht.  Er  hat  namlich  seinem 
Originale  sehr  geschmauchelt,  und  aus  den  englischen  dramatischen  Stiicken  gerade 
nur  das  Beste  genommen,  welches  den  Franzosen  gefallen  konnte.  Man  wiirde  sich 
aber  sehr  irren,  wenn  man  glauben  wollte,  man  hatte  nun  daraus  den  Shakespear  und 
Ben  Jonson  recht  naeh  dem  Leben  kennen  gelernet.  Es  war  namlich  nicht  rathsam, 
alles  wunderliche,  unordentliche  und  niedrige  Zeug  aus  des  erstern  Trauerspielen, 
einem  franzosischen  Leser  bekannt  zu  machen.  Bloss  der  ernsthafteste  Inhalt  des 
Trauerspiels  konnte  seinen  Augen  gefallen :  hergegen  die  langen  und  pobelhaften 
Gesprache,  die  oft  sehr  libel  angebracht  worden ;  die  gar  zu  hochtrabenden  und  fast 
begeisterten  Stiicke  voller  Galimatias,  die  bin  und  wieder  vorkommen,  u.  d.  m. 
schickten  sich  gar  nicht  dazu.  Darum  hat  Herr  von  L.  P.  sie  kliiglich  ausgelassen. 
(Coming  more  directly  to  Shakespeare's  plays  the  review  continues) :  Behiite  Gptt, 
dass  dieselben  nicht  ganz  und  gar  lebendig  dargestellet  werden  !  Man  ist  gliicklich, 
dass  man  nur  etwas  weniges  von  ihrien  sieht.  Wer  mag  wohl  von  alien  seltsamen 
Einfallen,  Reden  und  Ausschweifungen  Nachricht  haben,  die  ein  grosser  Mann 
gehabt  und  begangen,  den  man  ins  Tollhaus  hat  bringen  mussen  ?  Diese  Verglei- 
chung  wird  einem  Englander  hart  bediinken  :  allein  sie  schieszt  nicht  weit  vom  Ziel. 
Es  giebt  schone  Stiicke  irn  Shakespeare  :  allein  auch  ein  Narr  sagt  bisweilen  was 

1  Jusserand,  Shakespeare  in  France,  p.  224. 

2  Lounsbury,  Shakespeare  and  Voltaire,  p.  174. 


24  Wieland's  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

gescheidtes.  Dem  Pobel  zu  gefallen,  mengt  er  auch  viel  niedertrachtiges  und 
possierliches  Zeug  init  unter.  Das  alles  hat  Herr  L.  P.  unterschlagen,  ja  manches 
schlechte  Stiick  des  Originals  durch  seinen  eigenen  Witz  verschonert. 

In  the  main  this  review  is  correct.  La  Place  followed  the  general 
plan  of  Brumoy's  Le  Theatre  des  Grecs,  translating  the  best  and  most 
important  passages  and  giving  synopses  of  the  rest.  Only  one  drama, 
Richard  III,  is  complete.  A  footnote  says : 

Cette  Piece  est  traduite  aussi  litteralement,  qu'il  est  possible  (du  moins  a 
1'Auteur  de  cette  traduction)  de  rendre  en  Fra^ois  ce  que  1'Original  a  de  hardi,  &  de 
singulier.  Ceux  qui  possedent  le  langage  de  Shakespear,  ne  trouveront  surement 
rien  d'outre  dans  la  maniere  dont  on  a  tache  de  le  transmettre  dans  notre  Langue. 

Nine  dramas  are  translated  more  freely;  occasional  passages  and 
scenes  are  in  verse — usually  in  Alexandrine  rhymed  couplets ;  synopses 
are  given  of  the  omitted  scenes.  The  synopses  of  twenty-six  dramas 
vary  from  two  to  nine  pages  for  each  drama.  Stage  directions  are 
more  numerous  and  complete  than  in  any  of  the  editions  of  Rowe, 
Pope,  Theobald,  Hanmer,  or  Warburton.  The  entrance  or  exit  of  a 
player  is  the  basis  of  scene-division,  giving  many  more  scenes  in  each 
drama  than  in  any  of  the  above-mentioned  editions.  This  indicates  that 
La  Place  must  have  used  as  his  original  a  stage-edition  of  Shakespeare, 
very  probably  :  The  English  Theatre :  a  Collection  of  Tragedies  and 
Comedies  from  the  most  celebrated  Authors  (London,  1731-3,  26  vols.). 

Of  the  ten  dramas  translated  by  La  Place,  six  are  translated  by 
Wieland  :  Oth.,  HamL,  Macb.,  Caes.,  Ant.  and  Tim.  A  careful  examina- 
tion of  Oth.  and  a  general  comparison  of  the  other  five  dramas  in  both 
translations  show  no  traces  of  direct  dependence  of  Wieland  upon  La 
Place.  Occasionally  the  same  scene  is  summarized  in  both  translations, 
but  just  as  frequently  it  is  translated  in  one  and  summarized  in  the 
other.  The  passages  omitted  in  both  translations  rarely  correspond. 
La  Place's  translation  contains  but  one  comedy  (Wiv.)t  Wieland's  has 
ten.  However  some  parallels  exist  which  may  or  may  not  indicate 
dependence.  La  Place's  translation  begins  with  a  lengthy  discourse 
on  the  English  stage;  Wieland's  with  Pope's  Preface.  La  Place's 
Vie  de  Shakespeare  is  largely  a  summary  -  of  Rowe's  Life  of  Shake- 
speare ;  Wieland's  Lebens-  Umstdnde,  etc.,  is  a  translation  of  the 
same  (with  a  few  passages  omitted).  The  pages  of  La  Place  are 
.frequently  provided  with  foot-notes  similar  to  those  in  Wieland.  Both 
translate  the  grave-diggers'  scene  in  Hamlet  and  make  similar  remarks  : 
'  Je  n'ai  tente  de  traduire  cette  Scene,  que  parce  qu'elle  est  fameuse 
en  Angleterre ;  &  a  cause  de  sa  rare  singularite ' ;  '  man  wurde  diese 
ganze  Scene  eben  sogern  ausgelassen  haben,  wenn  man  dem  Leser 


F.    W.    MEISNEST 


25 


nicht  eine  Idee  von  der  bertichtigten  Todtengraber- Scene  hatte  geben 
wollen.'  From  the  standpoint  of  scholarship  and  advanced  criticism  La 
Place's  Discours  sur  le  Theatre  Anglois  remained  unequalled  until  the 
appearance  of  Samuel  Johnson's  Preface  to  his  edition  of  Shakespeare 
(1765).  This  discourse  may  well  have  contributed  to  Wieland's  con- 
ception of  Shakespeare. 

It  is  possible  that  a  more  careful  and  detailed  comparison  of  the  two 
entire  translations  might  produce  more  positive  results.  The  task, 
however,  seemed  fruitless.  The  plan  and  purpose  of  the  two  translators 
were  altogether  different.  La  Place's  Shakespeare  is  little  more  than  a 
book  of  samples,  whereas  Wieland's,  so  far  as  it  goes,  is  fairly  complete. 
The  one  drama  (Rich.  Ill)  which  La  Place  translated  completely  and 
rather  literally,  Wieland  did  not  translate  at  all,  and  the  difficult  and 
doubtful  passages  in  the  other  dramas,  where  Wieland  occasionally 
varied  from  his  original  (e.g.,  HamL,  I,  5,  77:  'Unhousel'd,  disappointed, 
unaneled '),  La  Place  invariably  omitted.  This  makes  it  difficult  if  not 
impossible  to  give  positive  proof  of  Wieland's  dependence  upon  La  Place 
by  a  comparison  of  the  two  translations. 


PURPOSE  AND  CONCEPTION. 

In  order  to  do  full  justice  to  Wieland's  translation  it  is  necessary  to 
take  into  consideration  the  attitude  of  contemporary  critics  and  scholars 
towards  such  an  undertaking.  Custom  had  practically  made  it  a 
fixed  principle  that  the  great  foreign  classics  be  made  available  by 
means  of  partial  translations  and  synopses.  This  is  what  Brumoy  in 
his  Theatre  des  Grecs  (1730)  and  La  Place  in  Le  Theatre  Anglois  (1746) 
had  done.  Thus  Homer  had  been  treated  in  Pope's  translation  (1715), 
and  Milton's  Paradise  Lost  in  Bodmer's  version  (1732).  Meinhard's 
Versuche  uber  den  Gharakter  und  die  Werke  der  besten  italienischen 
Dichter  (1763-4)  followed  the  same  plan.  Sulzer  had  suggested  this 
method  in  his  letter  of  Jan.  14,  1759  : 

Wenn  doch  ein  geschickter  Kopf  die  Arbeit  iibernehrnen  wollte,  diese  Schau- 
spiele  im  Deutschen  so  zu  analysiren,  wie  Pere  Brumoy  rnit  dem  griechischen  Theater 
gethan  hat.  Soweit  ich  gekommen  bin,  ist  kein  Drama,  das  man  ganz  iibersetzen 
diirfte.  Man  wiirde  nur  den  Plan  derselben  durchgehen,  die  Scenen  oder  Stellen 
aber,  welche  wirkliche  Schonheit  besitzen,  auszeichrien  und  alles  auf  eine  kritische 
Manier  verrichten1. 

Weisse  in  the  Bibliothek  der  schdnen  Wissenschaften  (ix,  261,  1763) 
in  the  review  of  Wieland's  first  volume  insisted  on  Brumoy's  plan  : 

1  Briefe  von  Sulzer,  Geilfuss,  1866,  p.  8. 


26  Wieland' s  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

Wir  glaubten  also,  dass  wenn  ja  mit  dem  Shakespear  in  unsrer  Sprache  etwas 
vorzunehmen  ware,  dass  man  den  Weg  des  Brumoy  mit  dem  griechischen  Theater 
einschlagen  sollte,  und  einen  Anszug  von  Scene  zu  Scene  liefern,  um  die  Oekonomie 
des  Stiicks,  und  die  Situationen,  die  Shakespear  oft  so  gliicklich  herbey  zu  ftihren 
weiss,  nicht  zu  verlieren,  die  schonsten  und  besten  Stellen  und  Scenen  aber  ganz  zu 
ubersetzen. 

In  1788  the  same  periodical,  reviewing  Eschenburg's  Uber  W. 
Shakespeare,  still  insisted  upon  its  former  judgment : 

Wie  sehr  ware  es  also  nicht  zu  wiinschen  gewesen,  Hr.  Wieland  hatte  gleich 
damals  den  Weg  eingeschlagen,  auf  den  jene  Rec.  hinzeigte.  Er  war  ganz  der  Mann 
dazu,  ihn  wurdig  zu  betreten....Wir  wiederholen  den  Wunsch,  dass  man  den 
Deutschen  nur  eine  Auswahl  der  schonsten  Scenen  Shakespears  und  von  den 
iibrigen  einen  blossen  Auszug  und  keine  wortliche  Uebersetzung  geliefert  haben 
mochte,  die  sowohl  dem  Publikum,  als  dem  Dichter  selbst,  der  sich  nun  aus  der- 
selben,  und  gleichsam  als  unsern  Zeitgenossen  beurtheilen  lassen  muss,  mehr 
geschadet  als  genutzt  hat. 

Even  Lessing  in  his  17th  Litteraturbrief  (1759)  recommended  a 
translation  of  Shakespeare  with  the  proviso  :  '  mit  einigen  bescheidenen 
Veranderungen.'  With  Garrick  omitting  the  grave-diggers'  scene  in 
Hamlet  on  the  Drury  Lane  stage  in  London,  and  playing  Shakespeare's 
plays  in  an  abridged  and  expurgated  edition ;  with  critics  like  Weisse, 
Nicolai  and  Gerstenberg  publicly  proclaiming  the  impossibility  and 
undesirability  of  systematically  translating  Shakespeare,  all  the  more 
credit  is  due  to  Wieland  for  boldly  attempting  the  difficult  task  with  a 
purpose  far  in  advance  of  his  time  : 

Es  kann  eine  sehr  gute  Ursache  haben,  warum  der  Uebersezer  eines  Originals, 
welches  bey  vielen  grossen  Schonheiten  eben  so  grosse  Mangel  hat,  und  iiberhaupt  in 
Absicht  des  Ausdruks  roh,  und  incorrect  ist,  fur  gut  findet,  es  so  zu  iibersezen,  wie  es 
ist.  Shakespear  ist  an  tausend  Orten  in  seiner  eignen  Sprache  hart,  steif,  schwiilstig, 
schielend ;  so  ist  er  auch  in  der  Uebersezung,  denn  man  wollte  ihn  den  Deutschen  so 
bekannt  machen,  wie  er  ist.  Pope  hat  den  Homer  in  Absicht  des  Ausdruks  ver- 
schonert,  und  wie  die  Kenner,  selbst  in  England  sagen,  oft  zu  viel  verschonert.  Das 
konnte  bey  einem  Homer  angehen,  dessen  Simplicitat  sich  schwerlich  in  irgend  einer 
Sprache,  welche  nicht  die  eigentlichen  Vorziige  der  griechischen  hat,  ohne  Nachtheil 
des  Originals  copieren  lasst.  Bey  unserm  Englander  hat  es  eine  ganz  andere 
Bewandtniss.  Sobald  man  ihn  verschonern  wollte,  wiirde  er  aufhoren,  Shakespear 
zu  seyn. 

Thus  Wieland  defended  his  translation  in  the  last  volume  (ill,  p. 
566),  against  the  severe  criticisms  of  Weisse,  Nicolai  and  Gerstenberg. 
Again  in  Teatscher  Merkar  (ill,  pp.  187,  17 73),  referring  to  the  proposed 
new  edition  of  his  translation  he  says : 

Der  Verbesserer  wird  nur  zu  manche  Stellen,  wo  der  Sinn  des  Originals  verfehlt 
oder  nicht  gut  genug  ausgedriickt  worden,  und  iiberhaupt  vieles  zu  polieren  und  zu 
erganzen  finden.  Aber  mochte  er  sich  vor  der  Verschonerungssucht  hiiten,  unter 
welcher  Shakespears  Genie  mehr  leiden  wiirde,  als  unter  meiner  vielleicht  allzu 
gewissenhaften  Treue  !  Mein  Vorsatz...war,  meinen  Autor  mit  alien  seinen  Fehlern 
zu  iibersetzen ;  und  dies  um  so  mehr,  weil  mir  dauchte,  dass  sehr  oft  seine  Fehler 
selbst  eine  Art  von  Schonheiten  sind. 


F.    W.    MEISNEST  27 

That  Wieland  speaks  of  the  faults  of  Shakespeare  in  connection 
with  his  beauties  is  not  surprising  and  is  no  disparagement  of  his  con- 
ception of  the  great  dramatist.  In  the  preface  of  every  Shakespeare 
edition  of  that  time  we  find  his  'faults'  enumerated  and  extensively 
discussed.  Even  Samuel  Johnson  who  perhaps  expressed  the  most 
advanced  view  on  Shakespeare  in  the  eighteenth  century,  said  in  his 
Preface  (1765)  :  'Shakespeare  with  his  excellencies  has  likewise  faults, 
and  faults  sufficient  to  obscure  and  overwhelm  any  other  merit.  I  shall 
shew  them  in  the  proportion  in  which  they  appear  to  me,  without 
envious  malignity  or  superstitious  veneration,'  whereupon  he  proceeds 
to  discuss  not  less  than  twelve  defects.  Critics  universally  attributed 
these  faults,  following  the  dictum  of  Alexander  Pope  in  his  Preface 
(1725),  to  the  perverted  taste  of  the  populace  for  whom  Shakespeare 
wrote.  Wieland  had  a  more  rational  explanation  (Merkur,  in,  p.  184, 
1773): 

Die  wahre  Quelle  dieser  Mangel  liegt  nicht,  (wie  man  zu  sagen  gewohnt  1st),  in 
der  Ansteckung  des  falschen  Geschmacks  seiner  Zeit, — denn  ein  Geist  wie  der 
seinige  lasst  sich  nicht  so  leicht  anstecken — noch  in  einer  unedlen  Gefalligkeit 
gegen  denselben — denn  wie  frey  und  stark  sagt  er  nicht  im  Sommernachts-Traum 
und  im  Hamlet  den  Dichtern,  den  Schauspielern  und  dem  Publico  die  Wahrheit  ? — 
sie  liegt  in  der  Grosse  und  in  dem  Umfang  seines  Geistes.  Sein  Genius  umfasst, 
gleich  dem  Genius  der  Natur,  mit  gleich  scharfem  Blick  Sonnen  und  Sonnenstaub- 
chen,  den  Elephanten  und  die  Milbe,  den  Engel  und  den  Wurm ;  er  schildert  mit 
gleich  meisterhaftem  Pinsel  den  Menschen  und  den  Caliban,  den  Mann  und  das 
Weib,  den  Helden  und  den  Schurken,  den  Weisen  und  den  Narren,  die  grosse  und 
die  schwache,  die  reizende  und  die  hassliche  Seite  -der  menschlichen  Natur,  eine 
Kleopatra  und  ein  Austerweib,  den  Konig  Lear  und  Tom  Bedlam,  eine  Miranda  und 
eine  Lady  Macbeth,  einen  Hamlet,  und  einen  Todtengraber.  Seine  Schauspiele 
sind,  gleich  dem  grossen  Schauspiele  der  Natur,  voller  anscheinenden  Unordnung ; — 
Paradiese,  Wildnisse,  Auen,  Siimpfe,  bezauberte  Thaler,  Sandwiisten,  fruchtbare 
Alpen,  starrende  Gletcher;  Cedern  und  Erdschwamme,  Rosen  und  Distelkopfe, 
Fasanen  und  Fledermause,  Menschen  und  Vieh,  Seraphim  und  Ottergeziichte, 
Grosses  und  Kleines,  Warmes  und  Kaltes,  Trocknes  und  Nasses,  Schones  und 
Ungestaltes,  Weisheit  und  Thorheit,  Tugend  und  Laster,— alles  seltsam  durch- 
einander  geworfen — und  gleich wohl,  aus  dem  rechten  Standpuncte  betrachtet,  alles 
zusammen  genommen,  ein  grosses,  herrliches  unverbesserliches  Ganzes  ! 

How  infinitely  superior  is  this  view  of  Shakespeare  to  that  of 
Voltaire,  which  is  nowhere  more  tersely  described  than  in  Wieland's 
own  words  (Merkur,  in,  p.  184,  1773): 

Es  ist  leicht,  dem  Sophisten  Voltaire,  (welcher  von  dem  Dichter  Voltaire  wohl 
zu  unterscheiden  ist),  der  weder  Englisch  genug  weiss,  um  ihn  zu  verstehen,  noch, 
wenri  er  Englisch  genug  konnte,  den  unverdorbnen  Geschmack  hat,  der  dazu  gehort, 
seinen  ganzen  Werth  zu  empfinden— es  ist  leicht,  sage  ich,  diesem  Voltaire  und 
seines  gleichen  nachzulallen :  Shakespear  ist  unregelmassig ;  seine  Stucke  sind 
ungeheure  Zwitter  von  Tragodie  und  Possenspiel,  wahre  Tragi-  Komi-  Lyncp- 
Pastoral-Far^en  ohne  Plan,  ohne  Verbindung  der  Scenen,  ohne  Einheiten;  ein 
geschmackloser  Mischmasch  von  Erhabnen  und  Niedrigen,  von  Pathetischen  und 
Lacherlichen,  von  achtem  und  falschem  Witz,  von  Laune  und  Unsinn,  von  Gedanken 


28  Wieland's  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

die  eines  Weisen,  und  von  Possen,  die  eines  Pickelherings  wiirdig  sindj  von  Ge- 
mahlden,  die  einem  Homer  Ehre  brachten,  und  von  Karrikaturen,  deren  sich  ein 
Scarron  schamen  wiirde. 

OMISSIONS. 

Although  it  was  Wieland's  general  purpose  to  translate  Shake- 
speare's plays  just  as  they  are,  nevertheless  in  the  strict  sense  not  one 
drama  is  translated  completely.  The  important  dramas  are  nearest  to 
being  complete  :  Mids.,  Temp.,  HamL,  Caes.,  Rom.,  Lear,  Macb.,  Oth., 
and  Merck.  The  greatest  omissions  occur  in :  Tw.  N.,  Gent.,  Much  Ado, 
Wint.,  1  and  2  Hen.  IV.  In  only  one  drama  is  an  entire  act  missing 
(Tw.  N.,  v).  In  addition  sixteen  entire  scenes  (Globe  ed.)  are  lacking: 
Macb.,  m,  5;  Much  Ado,  v,  3;  A.Y.L.,  in,  3;  v,  1;  Wint.,  1, 1;  iv,  1  and  3; 
1  Hen.  IV,  n,  1;  m,  3;  2  Hen.  IV,  n,  4;  v,  4;  Tw.  N.,  i,  3;  n,  3;  m,  2 
and  3;  iv,  1.  Usually  a  brief  synopsis  of  the  omitted  passage  is  given, 
which  occasionally  appears  in  a  footnote  (2  Hen.  IV,  n,  1,  112 — 209). 
As  typical  examples  of  these  synopses  I  would  refer  to  1  Hen.  IV,  n,  1, 
1— 5Y  and  58—106  (Stadler's  edition,  n,  pp.  497—8). 

In  the  following  the  first  figure  indicates  the  number  of  times 
longer  omissions,  i.e.,  entire  speeches  or  scenes,  occur,  and  the  second  the 
corresponding  number  of  times  synopses  are  given :  Tw.,  11 — 9;  Gent., 
8—1 ;  Wint.,  13—3 ;  1  Hen.  IV,  4—3  ;  2  Hen.  IV,  10—4;  Rom.,  4—3 ; 
Much  Ado,  6 — 2  ;  HamL,  3 — 2  ;  Lear,  1 — 0. 

Occasionally  sample  passages  are  translated  only  to  give  the  reader 
an  idea  of  the  original.  Thus  the  grave-diggers'  scene  in  Hamlet,  with 
the  exception  of  the  songs,  is  translated  with  the  explanation : 

Man  wiirde  diese  ganze  Scene  eben  sogern  ausgelassen  haben,  wenn  man  dem 
Leser  nicht  eine  Idee  von  der  beriichtigten  Todtengraber-Scene  hatte  geben  wollen. 

After  translating  a  part  of  the  tavern  scene  (1  Hen.  IV,  II,  4) 
Wieland  adds : 

Diese  unvollkommene  Probe  wird  den  Leser  vermuthlich  geneigt  machen,  dem 
Uebersezer  in  Absicht  der  Falstaffischen  Scenen  Vollmacht  zu  geben,  dariiber  nach 
eignem  Belieben  zu  schalten.  Man  muss  ein  Englander  seyn,  diese  Scenen  von 
Englandern  spielen  sehen,  und  eine  gute  Portion  Pounsch  dazu  im  Kopfe  haben,  um 
den  Geschmak  daran  zu  finden1. 

Omissions  occur  most  frequently  in  the  last  act  of  a  drama,  so  that 
Wieland  was  guilty  of  the  same  charge  which  he  brought  against 
Shakespeare  in  his  excuse  for  omitting  the  last  act  in  Twelfth  Night : 

Man  weiss.  schon,  dass  die  Anlegung  des  Plans  und  die  Entwiklung  des  Knotens 
diejenigen  Theile  nicht  sind,  worinu  unser  Autor  vortrefflich  ist.  Hier  scheint  er, 

1  Of.  also  2  Hen.  IV,  n,  1,  67—122. 


F.    W.    MEISNEST  29 

wie  es  ihm  mehrmal  in  den  fiinften  Aufziigen  begegnet,  begieriger  gewesen  zu  seyn, 
sein  Stiik  fertig  zu  machen,  als  von  Situationen  worein  er  seine  Personen  gesezt  hat, 
Vortheil  zu  ziehen.  Wir  werden  uns  daher  begniigen,  den  blossen  Inhalt  jeder  Scene 
auszuziehen. 

In  Hamlet  all  of  the  longer  omissions  are  in  the  last  act  (v,  1,112 — 26; 
2,  1—218 ;  2,  406—14)  ;  also  in  Mids.  (v,  1,  378—445).  On  the  other 
hand  six  of  the  thirteen  longer  omissions  in  Wint.  are  in  the  fourth  act 
(iv,  1,  1—32;  3,  1—135;  4,  220—60;  4,  322—39;  4,  469—604;  4, 
636—82). 

The  omission  of  single  words  and  short  expressions  is  more  or  less 
frequent  in  all  dramas,  e.g.,  135  in  Hand.,  40  in  Wint.  and  25  in  Lear. 
In  regard  to  omissions  Wieland  was  more  faithful  to  the  original  text 
in  the  dramas  first  translated  than  in  the  last. 

The  reasons  for  these  omissions  seem  to  be  various.  Episodes, 
interludes,  or  parts  which  the  translator  regarded  as  unessential  to  the 
plot,  are  left  untranslated.  Concerning  the  Hamlet-Horatio  scene 
(v,  2,  1 — 80)  Wieland  says  :  '  Da  diese  ganze  Scene  nur  zur  Benach- 
richtigung  dient,  so  waren  zwey  Worte  hinlanglich  gewesen,  ihnen  zu 
sagen  was  sie  ohnehin  leicht  errathen  konnten.'  Usually  parts  consisting 
of  clown  or  rabble  scenes,  interspersed  with  songs,  puns,  ambiguous  or 
vulgar  expressions  are  pronounced  untranslatable.  Footnotes  like  the 
following  are  frequent : 

Hier  folgt  im  Original  eine  Zwischen-Scene  von  der  pobelhaftesten  Art,  die  des 
Uebersezens  nicht  wiirdig  ist  (A.  Y.L.,  in,  8).  Hier  haben  etliche  non-sensicalische 
Zeilen  ausgelassen  werden  mussen  (Rom.,  I,  i,  205 — 6).  Man  hat  gut  gefunden, 
diese  Rede  zu  verandern  und  abzukiirzen.  Sie  ist  im  Original  die  Grundsuppe  der 
abgeschmaktesten  Art  von  Wiz,  und  des  Characters  einer  Mutter  ausserst  un wiirdig 
(Rom.,  i,  3,  79 — 95).  Hier  folgt  im  Original  eine  uniibersezliche  Zwischen-Scene 
zwischen  dem  Narren,  seiner  Liebste,  und  zween  Pagen,  die  ein  Liedlein  singen ' 
(A.  Y.L.,  v,  3). 

For  Falstaff's :  'Away  you  scullion  !  you  rampallian  !  you  fustilarian! 
I'll  tickle  your  catastrophes'  (2  Hen.  IV,  n,  1,  65),  Wieland  inserts: 
'Dumme  Schimpfworter.'  Falstaff's  reply  to  the  hostess:  'I  think  I  am 
as  like  to  ride  the  mare,  if  I  have  any  vantage  of  ground  to  get  up ' 
(2  Hen.  IV,  n,  1,  84—5),  is  dismissed  with  'Eine  Zote.'  The  many  puns 
are  usually  omitted  and  declared  untranslatable :  '  Der  Spass  ligt  hier 
in  einem  Wortspiel,  das  sich  nicht  libersezen  lasst '  (Meas.,  iv,  2,  3 — 5). 
Metaphorical  expressions,  proverbial  sayings  and  general  reflexions 
within  speeches  are  frequently  omitted.  Likewise  passages  of  difficult 
or  doubtful  meaning,  especially  when  accompanied  with  Warburton's  or 
Pope's  conjectural  explanation  (HamL,  I,  1,  93 — 5  ;  I,  4,  36 — 8  ;  iv,  3, 
63),  and  those  lines  regarded  by  Warburton  as  interpolations  (HamL, 


30  Wieland's  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

m,  2,  34 — 6  ;  Lear,  in,  1,  8 — 9)  are  usually  omitted.     Most  of  the  songs 
and  rhymed  passages  are  lacking. 

The  omission  of  the  entire  fifth  act  in  Twelfth  Night,  the  last  drama 
of  vol.  vn,  as  well  as  the  relatively  larger  number  of  omissions  in  the  last 
drama  of  each  of  the  last  four  volumes  (2  Hen.  IV,  Two  Gent.,  Tw.  N., 
Wint.),  was  undoubtedly  due  to  the  size  of  the  volumes  as  determined  by 
the  publishers.  According  to  the  agreement  each  volume  was  to  contain 
three  dramas,  for  which  Wieland  received  12  louis  d'or  and  fifty  free 
copies1.  From  Wieland's  letters  to  Salomon  Gessner  we  may  judge  that 
the  size  of  each  volume  was  about  30  sheets,  or  480  pages2.  But  the 
average  number  of  pages  for  the  eight  volumes  is  only  439,  or  consider- 
ably less  than  30  sheets.  Vol.  vn  already  had  two  large  dramas :  Romeo 
and  Othello,  which  filled  403  pages.  Another  complete  drama  would 
have  increased  it  to  over  600  pages,  or  far  beyond  the  average.  Hence 
the  necessity  of  abridging  Twelfth  Night. 

ADDITIONS. 

Wieland  occasionally  adds  words,  phrases,  and  even  entire  sentences 
which  do  not  occur  in  the  original  text.  About  fifty  such  additions  are 
found  in  Haml. ;  fewer  in  Oth.  and  Wint.,  and  practically  none  in  Lear. 
Usually  these  additions  serve  to  elucidate  or  emphasize  an  idea.  Haml., 
I,  4,  29:  'Or  by  some  habit  that  too  much  o'er-leavens  The  form  of 
plausive  manners,'  '  oder  wegen  irgend  einer  angewohnten  Manier,  einer 
Grimasse  oder  so  etwas,  welches  mit  dem  eingefiihrten  Wohlstand 
einen  allzugrossen  Abstand  macht.'  Haml.,  II,  2,  528:  'Run  barefoot  up 
and  down,'  'Wie  sie,  in  Verzweiflung,  mit  nakten  Ftissen  auf-  und 
niederrannte.'  Haml.,  II,  2,  459  :  '  An  excellent  play,  well  digested  in 
the  scenes,'  '  ein  vortreflfliches  Stiik,  viel  Einfalt  und  doch  viel  Kunst  in 
der  Anlage  des  Plans,  und  die  Scenen  wol  disponiert.'  Courteous 
expressions  are  sometimes  inserted.  Haml.,  II,  2,  95 :  '  More  matter 
with  less  art,'  'Mehr  Stoff  mit  weniger  Kunst,  wenn  ich  bitten  darf.' 
Haml.,  II,  2,  451 :  '  We'll  have  a  speech  straight,'  '  eine  htibsche  Scene, 
wenn  ich  bitten  darf'  The  numerous  stage-directions  added  by  Wieland 
indicate  that  he  used  some  stage  edition,  very  probably  The  English 
Theatre,  London,  1761, 14-  vols.,  which  may  contain  Shakespeare's  plays. 
This  was  in  his  library  at  his  death3.  Wint.,  I,  2,  86  :  '  Leontes.  Is  he 

1  Schnorr's  Archiv,  vn,  p.  491. 

2  Cf.  Wieland's  correspondence  on  the  size  of  vol.  vm,  in  Denkwiirdige  Brief e,  pp.  26  f. 

3  Seuffert,  -  Prolegomena  in,  p.   6.      It  was  impossible  to  locate  any  edition  of  The 
English  Theatre  (1731-3,  26  Vols.,  1742,  16  Vols.)  prior  to  1765  in  the  British  Museum  or 
any  of  the  large  University  libraries  of  Germany,  England  and  United  States.     The 
edition  (8  Vols.,  1765)  in  the  Staatsbibliothek  of  Munich  does  not  contain  Shakespeare. 


F.    W.    ME1SNEST  31 

won  yet  ?'  '  Leontes  (der  sich  eine  Weile  von  ihnen  entfernt  hatte,  urn 
sie  zu  beobachten,  und  izt  wieder  auf  sie  zugeht,  zu  Hermione).  1st 
er  nun  gewonnen  ? '  Wint.,  in,  2,  143  :  '  Servant.  My  lord  the  king, 
the  king!'  '  Bedienter  (erschroken  und  zitternd).  Gnadigster,  Gnadigster 
Herr....'  Lear,  ill,  4,  12:  'the  tempest  in  my  mind  Doth  from  my 
senses  take  all  feeling  else  Save  what  beats  there,'  'der  Sturm  in 
meinem  Gemiith  nimmt  meinen  Sinnen  alles  andre  Gefuhl,  als  was 
hier  schlagt  (Er  zeigt  auf  sein  Herz).'  Lear,  iv,  2,  21  :  '  Wear  this, 
spare  speech  ;  decline  your  head '  (Warburton).  '  Traget  diss  (sie  giebt 
ihm  ich  weiss  nicht  was),  sparet  die  Worte,  (leise)  drehet  den  Kopf  ein 
wenig.'  (Of.  also  Lear,  iv,  6,  41 ;  iv,  7,  70 ;  Tim.,  in,  6,  92.) 

INCORRECT  TRANSLATIONS. 

The  various  incorrect  translations  in  every  drama  are  due  to  mis- 
understanding of  the  English  text,  incorrect  text  or  commentary,  or 
arbitrary  changes,  distributed  in  three  dramas  as  follows: 

Due  to  Hand.  Lear  Wint. 

(1)  Misunderstanding  ....  59  28  19 

(2)  Incorrect  text  or  commentary  27  33  8 

(3)  Arbitrary  change  ....  17  3  4 

103         64        31 

In  general  about  one  half  of  the  incorrect  translations  are  due  to  a 
misunderstanding  of  the  text  and  an  insufficient  knowledge  of  the 
English  language.  The  following  examples  are  taken  from  Hamlet. 
I,  1,  174:  'and  I  this  morning  know  Where  we  shall  find  him  most 
conveniently.'  W. :  '  Wir  werden  diesen  Morgen  schon  erfahren,  wo  wir 
ihn  zur  gelegensten  Zeit  sprechen  konnen.'  n,  2, 355  :  '  little  eyases,  that 
cry  out  at  the  top  of  question,  and  are  most  tyrannically  clapped  for't.' 
W. :  '  Kleine  Kichelchen,  die  beym  Haupt-Wort  eines  Sazes  aus  alien 
Kraften  ausgrillen,  und  auch  jammerlich  genug  geschlagen  werden,  bis 
sie  es  so  gut  gelernt  haben.' 

The  various  uses  .of  the  word  '  that '  were  at  times  misunderstood. 
HamL,  I,  2,  31 :  '  in  that  the  levies,  The  lists  and  full  proportions,  are 
all  made  Out  of  his  subject.'  W. :  Es  sind  alle  Umstande,  die  Anzahl 
seiner  angeworbnen  Truppen,  die  Namen  der  angesehendsten  Theil- 
nehmer  seines  Vorhabens,  und  seine  ganze  Starke  hierinn  (i.e.,  the 
letter)  enthalten.  HamL,  n,  2,  292  :  '  That  you  must  teach  me.'  W. : 
'  Dass  ihr  mich  ausforschen  sollt.'  HamL,  u,  2,  439  :  'for  look,  where  my 
abridgment  comes.'  W. :  '  Aber  da  kommen  die  ehrlichen  Leute,  die  mir 


32  Wieland's  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

heraushelfen.'  HamL,  I,  2,  204:  'thrice  he  walk'd... Within  his  trun- 
cheon's length.'  W.  :  '  Dreymal  gieng  er...mit  seinem  langen  Stok  in 
der  Hand,  hin  und  her.' 

From  one-third  to  one -fourth  of  the  incorrect  translations  are  due 
to  Warburton's  misleading  textual  conjectures  or  explanations.  HamL, 
I,  2,  167:  'Good  even,  sir'  ('morning,  sir,'  Warb.);  W.:  'Guten  Morgen.' 
Haml.,1, 3,  79  :  'And  it  must  follow,  as  the  night  (light,  Warb.)  the  day  '; 
W. :  'Denn  daraus  folget  so  notwendig  als  das  Licht  dem  Tage.'  HamL, 
I,  4,  73 :  '  Which  might  deprive  (deprave,  Warb.)  your  sovereignty  of 
reason' ;  W. :  'Welche  euern  Verstand  verwirren...konnte'  (Warb.'s  note  : 
'  i.e.,  disorder  your  understanding').  HamL,  n,  1,  79  :  '  his  stockings 
foul'd'  ('loose,'  Warb.);  W.:  'Seine  Strtimpfe  nicht  aufgezogen.'  HamL, 
ill,  3,  66  :  'Yet  what  can  it  when  one  can  not  repent'  ('can  but  repent/ 
Warb.)  ?  W. :  '  Aber  was  vermag  blosse  unfruchtbare  Reue  ? '  HamL, 
m,  4,  51  :  '  Queen.  Ay  me  what  act,  That  roars  so  loud,  and  thunders  in 
the  index  ? '  (Queen.  Ay  me  !  what  act  ?  HamL  :  That  roars  so  loud,  it 
thunders  to  the  Indies.  Warb.).  W. :  '  Konigin.  Weh  mir,  was  fur 
eine  That  ?  HamL  :  Die  so  laut  briillt,  dass  sie  bis  in  die  Indien 
donnert.' 

Occasionally  incorrect  and  inaccurate  translations  are  due  to 
arbitrary  changes.  Thus  a  mere  word  may  be  changed :  HamL,  in, 
1,  62:  'heartache,'  'Kopfweh';  IV,  7,  183:  'melodious  lay,'  'Schwanen^ 
Gesang';  IV,  1,  10:  'a rat.  a  rat!'  'eine  Maus';  I,  1,  50:  •  It  is  offended,' 
'  Es  ist  unwillig.'  Entire  sentences  may  be  changed  :  HamL,  ill,  2,  9  : 
'0,  it  offends  me  to  the  soul  to  hear  a  robustious  periwig-pated  fellow 
tear  a  passion  to  tatters,  to  very  rags,  to  split  the  ears  of  the  ground- 
lings, who  for  the  most  part  are  capable  of  nothing  but  inexplicable 
dumb-shows  and  noise/  W. :  '  O,  es  ist  mir  in  der  Seele  zuwider,  wenn 
ich  einen  breitschultrichten  Ltimmel  in  einer  grossen  Peruke  vor  mir 
sehe,  der  eine  Leidenschaft  zu  Fezen  zerreisst,  und  um  pathetisch  zu 
seyn,sich  nicht  anders  gebehrdet,  als  wie  em  toller  Mensch;  aber  gemeinig- 
lich  sind  solche  Gesellen  auch  nichts  anders  fahig  als  Lerm  und  seltsame 
unnaturliche  Gesticulationen  zu  machen.'  HamL,  IV,  7,  174:  'There... 
Clambering  to  hang,  an  envious  sliver  broke ;  When  down  her  weedy 
trophies  and  herself  Fell  in  the  weeping  brook.'  W. :  '  Wie  sie  nun  an 
diesem  Baum  hinankletterte...<7fo'fcc/ite  der  Boden  mit  ihr,  und  sie  fiel 
mit  ihren  Kranzen  in  der  Hand  ins  Wasser.'  HamL,  IV,  3,  7  :  'To  bear 
all  smooth  and  even,  This  sudden  sending  him  away  must  seem 
Deliberate  pause.'  W. :  '  Glliklicher  Weise  fiigt  es  sich,  dass  dieser 
Vor  fall  zu  seiner  plozlichen  Verschikung  einen  Vor  wand  giebt.' 


F.    W.    MEISNEST  33 

In  addition  to  the  more  obvious  incorrect  translations  there  are  a 
number  of  minor  inaccurate  translations  in  every  drama.  About  forty 
occur  in  Hamlvt,  as:  I,  1,  2  :  'Nay,  answer  me.'  W.:  '  Nun,  gebt  Antwort/ 
(Steevens :  ' i.e.  me  who  am  already  on  the  watch').  I,  3, 1 :  'My  necessaries 
are  embarked.'  W. :  'Mein  Gerathe  ist  eingepakt.'  iv,  7,  171:  'That 
liberal  shepherds  give  a  grosser  name.'  W. :  '  Denen  unsre  ehrlichen 
Schafer  einen  natiirlichen  Namen  geben.' 

FREE  TRANSLATIONS. 

In  regard  to  translating  freely  or  literally  Wieland  did  not  follow  a 
uniform  course.  The  dramas  translated  first,  as  Mids.,  Lear,  are  too 
literal,  those  last  are  too  free,  as  Haml.,  Oth.,  Wint.  Only  four  passages 
translated  too  freely  were  discovered  in  Lear  to  over  forty  in  Hamlet. 
No  doubt  Wieland  was  influenced  by  Weisse's  criticism  (Bibl.  der  Sch. 
Wiss.,  IX,  262,  1763):  'Die  allzu  sklavische  wortliche  Uebersetzung 
macht  sie  oft  ekel  und  unverstandlich '  in  his  review  of  Vol.  I,  as  well 
as  by  Voltaire's  violent  denunciation  of  literal  translations :  '  Malheur 
aux  feseurs  de  traductions  litterales,  qui,  traduisant  chaque  parole, 
enervent  le  sens!  C'est  bien  la  qu'on  peut  dire  que  la  lettre  tue,  et 
que  1'esprit  vivifie,'  in  his  Lettres  sur  les  Anglais  (xvin,  1734).  As  a 
model  Voltaire  added  a  ridiculously  free  translation  of  Hamlet's  soliloquy: 
'  To  be  or  not  to  be '  in  rhymed  verse.  The  same  appears  also  in 
Voltaire's:  Appel  a  toutes  les  Nations  de  V Europe  (1761),  accompanied 
by  an  extremely  literal  translation  in  prose,  grossly  exaggerated.  The 
latter  essay  was  reprinted  in  1764  under  the  title:  Du  Theatre  Anglais 
par  Jerome  Carre1.  To  this  essay  Wieland  must  refer  in  a  footnote  to 
Rom.,  I,  1,  125  : 

'  Madam,  an  hour  before  the  worshipp'd  sun  Peer'd  forth  the  golden  window  of 
the  east.'  W. :  '  Madam,  eine  Stunde  eh  die  Sonne  aufging.  Im  Original :  Eh  die 
angebetete  Sonne  sich  durch  das  goldne  Fenster  des  Osten  sehen  liess.  Es  ist  nichts 
leichteres,  als  durch  eine  allzuwb'rtliche  Uebersezung  den  Shakespear  lacherlich 
zu  machen,  wie  der  Herr  von  Voltaire  neulich  mit  einer  Scene  aus  dem  Hamlet  eine 
Probe  gemacht,  die  wir  an  gehorigem  Ort  ein  wenig  naher  untersuchen  wollen2.' 

The  following  are  typical  examples  of  free  translations :  Lear,  I,  1, 
155  :  '  Nor  are  those  empty-hearted  whose  low  sound  Re  verbs  no 
hollowness.'  W. :  '  Meynest  du,  ihr  Herz  sey  weniger  voll,  weil  es 
einen  schwachern  Klang  von  sich  giebt,  als  diejenigen,  deren  hohler  Ton 
ihre  Leerheit  wiederhallt.'  Haml.,  in,  2,  6  :  'for  in  the  very  torrent, 

1  Jusserand,  Shakespeare  in  France,  p.  369. 

2  This  further  investigation  was  not  made. 

M.  L.  R.  IX.  3 


34  Wieland's  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

tempest,  and,  as  I  may  say,  the  whirlwind  of  passion,  you  must  acquire 
and  beget  a  temperance  that  may  give  it  smoothness.'  W.  :  '  Denn 
selbst  in  dem  heftigsten  Strom,  Sturm  und  Wirbelwind  einer  Leiden- 
schaft  mlisst  ihr  eure  Bewegungen  so  gut  in  eurer  Gewalt  haben,  dass 
sie  etwas  edels  und  anstandiges  behalten.'  HamL,  IV,  1,  30  :  '  and  this 
vile  deed  We  must,  with  all  our  majesty  and  skill,  Both  countenance 
and  excuse.'  W. :  f  Und  was  diese  bose  That  betrifft,  so  werden  wir 
alles  unsers  Ansehens  und  unsrer  Klugheit  nothig  haben,  um  ihren 
Folgen  vorzubauen.' 

Wieland  occasionally  resorts  to  free  translations  in  doubtful  or 
obscure  passages.  Lear,  II,  2,  131  :  '  None  of  these  rogues  and  cowards 
But  Ajax  is  their  fool.'  W. :  '  Es  ist  keiner  von  diesen  Schlingeln  und 
Memmen,  der  nicht  den  Ajax  zu  seinem  Muster  mache.'  HamL,  I,  2, 
65  :  'A  little  more  than  kin,  and  less  than  kind.'  W.  :  ' Lieber  nicht  so 
nah  befreundt,  und  weniger  geliebt.'  Haml.,  n,  2, 463  :  '  nor  no  matter 
in  the  phrase,  that  might  indict  the  author  of  affectation'  (affection, 
Warb.).  W. :  '  Keine  Redensarten  noch  Schwiinge,  worinn  man  statt 
der  redenden  Person  den  sich  selbst  gefallenden  Autor  hort.'  Haml., 
in,  2,  25  :  '  to  show  virtue  her  own  feature,  scorn  her  own  image,  and 
the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time  his  form  and  pressure.'  W. :  '  Der 
Tugend  ihre  eigne  wahre  Gestalt  und  Proportion  zu  zeigen,  und  die 
Sitten  der  Zeit,  bis  auf  ihre  kleinsten  Ztige  und  Schattierungen  nach 
dem  Leben  gemahlt  darzustellen.'* 

Verbose  translations  occur  rarely  in  the  first  dramas  translated,  but 
frequently  in  the  last  ones.  Hand.,  I,  1,  33:  'What  we  have  two  nights 
seen.'  W. :  'Deren  Inhalt  wir  doch  zwo  Nachte  nach  einander  mit  unseren 
Augen  gesehen  haben.'  Haml.,  1, 1, 146:  'And  our  vain  blows  malicious 
mockery.'  W.  :  '  Und  unsre  eiteln  Streiche  beweisen  ihm  nur  unsern 
bosen  Willen,  ohne  ihm  wiirklich  etwas  anzuhaben.'  HamL,  I,  2,  15: 
'  which  have  freely  gone  With  this  affair  along.  For  all,  our  thanks.' 
W. :  '  Und  erkennen  mit  gebiihrendem  Danke,  dass  ihr  uns  in  diesem 
ganzeri  Geschafte  durch  eure  einsichtsvollen  Ratschlage  so  frey  und 
gutwillig  unterstiizt  habt.'  HamL,  I,  3,  59  :  '  Give  thy  thoughts  no 
tongue,  Nor  any  unproportion'd  thought  his  act.'  W.  :  '  Gieb  deinen 
Gedanken  keine  Zunge,  und  wenn  du  je  von  unregelmassigen  tiber- 
rascht  wirst,  so  hiite  dich  wenigstens,  sie  zu  Handlungen  zu  machen.' 
HamL,  in,  2,  2  :  '  trippingly  on  the  tongue.'  W. :  '  Mit  dem  natiir- 
lichen  Ton  und  Accent,  wie  man  im  gemeinen  Leben  spricht.' 

In  the  last  dramas  longer  passages  are  occasionally  contracted  into 
a  few  words  giving  the  general  idea.  HamL,  I,  2,  124  :  '  in  grace 


F.    W.    MEISNEST  35 

whereof,  No  jocund  health  that  Denmark  drinks  to-day  But  the  great 
cannon  to  the  clouds  shall  tell,  And  the  king's  rouse  the  heavens  shall 
bruit  again,  Re-speaking  earthly  thunder.'  W. :  '  Dass  dieser  Tag  ein 
festlicher  Tag  der  Freude  seyn  soil.'  Haml,  iv,  7,  89 :  '  so  far  he 
topp'd  my  thought,  That  I,  in  forgery  of  shapes  and  tricks,  Come  short 
of  what  he  did/  W. :  '  Er  ubertraf  alles,  was  man  sich  davon  einbilden 
kan.'  Haml.,  v,  1,  236  :  '  Imperious  Caesar,  dead  and  turn'd  to  clay, 
Might  stop  a  hole  to  keep  the  wind  away  :  0,  that  that  earth,  which 
kept  the  world  in  awe,  Should  patch  a  wall  to  expel  the  winter's 
flaw ! '  W.  :  '  Und  so  kan  der  Welt-Bezwinger  Casar  eine  Spalte  in 
einer  Mauer  gegen  den  Wind  gestoppt  haben.' 

RHYMED  VERSE. 

Undoubtedly  the  greatest  defect  of  Wieland's  translation  is  his 
treatment  of  the  various  kinds  of  verse-forms.  The  omission  of  most 
of  the  songs  and  rhymed  passages  called  forth  the  severe  criticism 
of  Herder  who  pronounced  the  translation  '  barbaric '  and  translated 
them  himself.  Apparently  Wieland's  original  purpose  was  to  translate 
all  verse  as  well  as  prose ;  for  in  the  first  drama  translated,  Mids.,  only 
one  (v,  1,  378 — 445)  of  the  eighteen  songs  contained  therein  was 
omitted.  But  he  soon  found  this  task  too  laborious.  The  following 
table  shows  the  number  of  songs  and  rhymed  passages  translated  and 
omitted  in  thirteen  dramas :  Rom.,  0 — 2  ;  Mids.,  17 — 1 ;  Temp.,  3 — 5  ; 
A.Y.L.,  5—8;  Wint.,  0—6;  Merch.,  3—1;  Tim.,  0—1;  Meas.,  0—1; 
2  Hen.  IV,  0—4;  Much  Ado,  0—3;  Two  Gent.,  0—1;  Lear,  6—10; 
Haml.,  11—3;  total  translated  45,  omitted  461. 

About  three-fourths  of  the  songs  translated  by  Wieland  were 
accepted  by  Eschenburg.  From  Mids.  Schlegel  borrowed  four  (i,  2, 
33_40;  v,  1,  281—92;  1,  300—11;  1,  331—54).  One  of  Wieland's 
best  translations  is  Bottom's  song  in  Mids.,  I,  2,  33 — 40 :  '  The  raging 
rocks,'  etc.  W. :  '  Der  Felsen  Schooss  Und  toller  Stoss  Zerbricht  das 
Schloss  der  Kerkerthiir,  Und  Febbus  Karr'n,  Kommt  angefahr'n, 
Und  macht  erstarr'n,  Des  stolzen  Schiksals  Zier!'  The  thought  as 
well  as  the  metre  of  the  original  is  here  well  preserved.  Also  Thisbe's 
song  was  successfully  reproduced  (Mids.,  v,  1,  331 — 54):  'Asleep,  my 

1  Songs  translated  are  :  Mids.  all  except  v.  1,  378-445.  Temp.,  i,  2,  396-407 ;  n,  1, 
300-5;  v,  1,  88—94.  A.Y.L.,  n,  5,  1-8  ;  5,  52-9;  in,  2,  93-100  ;  2,  107-18 ;  iv,  3,  40-63. 
Merch.,  n,  7,  66-73;  9,  63-78;  HI,  2,  132-9.  Lear,  i,  4,  154-161;  4,  235-6;  4,  340-4;  m, 
2,  81-94;  4,  144-5.  Haml.,  n,  2,  116-9;  2,  426-7;  2,  435-7;  in,  2,  282-5;  2,  159-61; 
iv,  5,  23-6;  5,  29-32;  5,  37-9;  5,  48-55;  5,  59-66;  5,  164-7;  5,  187-98. 

3—2 


36  Wieland's  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

love/  etc.  With  few  minor  changes,  as  '  Wangen  blass '  for  '  lily  lips/ 
with  the  same  number  of  lines  it  reproduces  the  metre  and  spirit  of  the 
English  text.  Schlegel  saw  fit  to  change  only  the  last  six  lines  of  this 
song.  Other  good  translations  are  :  A.Y.L.,  ill,  2,  93 — 118  :  '  From  the 
east  to  western  Ind/  where  the  ind-rhyme  is  preserved  throughout,  but 
11.  109—114  are  omitted;  A.Y.L.,  iv,  3,  40—63:  'Art  thou  god  to 
shepherd  turn'd '  and  Ophelia's  Valentine  song :  HamL,  IV,  5,  48 — 55  : 
'To-morrow  is  Saint  Valentine's  day ' ;  also  HamL,  iv,  5,  23 — 26  :  '  How 
should  I  your  true  love  know/  and  Mids.,  n,  2,  9 — 26 :  '  You  spotted 
snakes  with  double  tongue/ 

Only  once  did  Wieland  put  a  song  into  prose — Ariel's  song  summoning 
the  thieves :  Temp.,  iv,  1,  44 — 48  :  '  Before  you  can  say  "  come  "  and 
"go"';  the  short  o-rhymes  he  thought  could  not  be  translated. 

The  rhymed  passages  so  frequent  in  Shakespeare,  especially  at  the 
end  of  scenes  or  acts,  generally  appear  in  prose  (Lear,  I,  4,  154 — 161 ; 
4,  235 — 6 ;  4,  340 — 4).  Nerissa's  lines  form  an  exception :  Merch.,  II, 
9,  82—3 : 

The  ancient  saying  is  no  heresy, 
Hanging  and  wiving  goes  by  destiny. 

Das  alte  Spriichwort  ist  nicht  Kezerey, 
Hangen  und  Weiben  steht  nicht  jedem  frey. 

Concerning  the  rhymed  verses  in  Romeo  and  Juliet  Wieland  properly 
remarks : 

Es  ist  em  Ungliik  fur  dieses  Stiik,  welches  sonst  so  viele  Schonheiten  hat,  dass 
ein  grosser  Theil  davon  in  Reimen  geschrieben  ist.  Niemals  hat  sich  ein  poetischer 
Genie  in  diesen  Fesseln  weniger  zu  helfen  gewusst  als  Shakespear;  seine  gereimten 
Verse  sind  meistens  hart,  gezwungeu  und  dunkel ;  der  Reirn  macht  ihn  immer  etwas 
anders  sagen  als  er  will,  oder -nothigt  ihn  doch,  seine  Ideen  iibel  auszudriiken. . . . 
Shakespears  Genie  war  zu  feurig  und  ungestum,  und  er  nahm  sich  zu  wenig  Zeit 
und  Muhe  seine  Verse  auszuarbeiten ;  das  ist  die  wahre  Ursache,  warum  ihn  der 
Reim  so  sehr  verstellt,  und  seinen  Uebersezer  so  oft  zur  Verzweiflung  bringt. 

A  delicate  trace  of  Wieland's  leanings  to  anacreontic  tendencies 
manifests  itself  in  Hamlet's  letter  to  Ophelia,  where  this  prompted  him 
to  add  an  extra  line  :  HamL,  n,  2,  116 — 19  : 

Doubt  thou  the  stars  are  fire ; 

Doubt  that  the  sun  doth  move; 
Doubt  truth  to  be  a  liar; 

But  never  doubt  I  love. 

Zweifle  an  des  Feuers  Hize, 
Zweifle  an  der  Sonne  Licht, 
Zweifle  ob  die  Wahrheit  Liige, 
Schonste,  nur  an  deinem  Siege 
Und  an  rneiner  Liebe  nicht. 


F.    W.    MEISNEST  37 

Of  the  four  witches'  scenes  in  Macbeth  Wieland  translated  only  the 
first  two  (i,  1  and  3,  1 — 37).  The  other  two  he  said  were  scarcely 
translatable  into  any  language  on  account  of  their  metre  and  rhyme. 
He  took  great  pains  with  the  first  two,  acknowledging  however  his 
inability  to  express  'das  Unformliche,  Wilde  und  Hexenmassige  des 
Originals.'  The  lines 

When  the  hurlyburly's  done, 
When  the  battle's  lost  and  won 

baffled  him,  as  they  have  every  translator  since,  necessitating  a  para- 
phrase; 'denn  wer  wollte  den  Ausdruk  und  Schwung  dieser  Verse 
deutsch  machen  konnen  ? ' 


RECEPTION  AND  INFLUENCE. 

Wieland's  translation  not  only  awakened  a  new  interest  in  Shake- 
speare in  Germany,  but  also  renewed  that  bitter  warfare  begun  by 
Gottsched  in  1741  upon  the  appearance  of  Caspar  von  Borck's  transla- 
tion of  Julius  Caesar.  The  opposition  now  was  no  longer  directed 
against  the  poet,  but  against  the  translation,  especially  against  the 
plan  of  entire  translations  of  the  dramas.  The  most  violent  attacks 
were  made  by  the  Bibliothek  der  schonen  Wissenschaften  (ix,  257 — 70, 
1763)1,  the  Allgemeine  deutsche  Bibliothek*,  Gerstenberg  in  his  Brief e 
uber  Merkwurdigkeiten  der  Litteratur,  Nos.  14 — 18,  1766,  and  Herder 
in  his  Erste  Sammltmg  der  Fragmente,  4.  kritisches  Wdldchen,  and 
private  letters  (Lebensbild,  vol.  in).  On  the  other  hand  the  translation 
was  defended  with  somewhat  less  enthusiasm  and  occasionally  with 
reservations,  by  the  Neue  Zeitungen  von  gelehrten  Sachen,  Leipzig,  1763, 

1  Eschenburg,    Vber  W.  Shakespeare,   p.  506,  attributed  this   review  to   Meinhard. 
According  to  Weisse's  biographer  (Bibl.  der  schonen  Wiss.  LXX,  203,  1804)  Weisse  was  the 
author:  '  Unter  seinen  eigenen  Recensionen  ist  wohl  die  bedeutendste  die  von  Wielands 
Uebersetzung  des  Shakespear.'     This  is  probably  Jordens'  (Lexikon,  v,  404)  authority 
for  Weisse's  authorship. 

2  i,  1,  300,  1765,  by  Nicolai ;  xi,  1,  51—9,  1770,  small  part  by  Nicolai.     In  a  letter  to 
Wielaud,  Feb.  6,  1770,  Nicolai  reveals  the  authorship  :  '  Ich  iibersende  Ew.  H.  das  erste 
Stuck  des  xi.  B.  der  A.  D.  B[ibliothek] ;  die  darin  enthaltene  Anzeige  Ihres  Deutschen 

Shakespears  und  Ihres  Idris  sind  zwar  nicht  von  mir der  Anzeige  des  Shakespears 

habe  ich  die  Erklarung  S.  51,  52  und  54  selbst  eingewebt.     Ich  gestehe  es  Ew.  H.,  dass 
ich  der  Verf.  der  Anzeige  der  ersten  Theile  Ihres  Shakespears  in  des.  1.  Bds.  1.  Stiicke  bin. 
Es  ist  mir  sehr  unangenehm,  dass  ich  durch  die  dariu  gebrauchten  nicht  genug  abge- 
messene  Ausdriicke,  Ihnen  wahrhaftig  wider  meine  Absicht  Gelegenheit  zum  Missvergniigen 
gegeben  habe.     Durch  die  gedachte  offentliche  Erklarung  (i.e.,  pp.  51,  52,  54)  suche  ich 
meine  wahre  Meinung  in  ein  naheres  Licht  zu  setzen,  und  wenn  Ew.  H.  auch  nicht  vollig 
damit  zufrieden  sein  sollten,  so  kann  sie  wenigstens  zur  Bezeugung  meiner  aufrichtigen 
Hochachtung  gegen  Ihre  Verdienste,  dierien,  die  auch  bey  einer  nicht  volligen  Uberein- 
stimmung  der  Meinungen  bestandig  bleiben  wird.'     Otto  Sievers,  Akademische  Blatter, 
1884,  p.  268. 


38  Wieland's  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

Nos.  3,  58,  81 ;  1764,  Nos.  58,  97 ;  Gottingische  Anzeigen  von  gelehrten 
Sachen,  1764,  Nos.  26,  96,  156;  1766,  No.  7;  by  Uz,  Klotz,  K.  A. 
Schmid,  Lessing,  Goethe  and  Schiller1. 

Dr  Stadler's  excellent  discussion  of  the  reception  of  Wieland's 
Shakespeare  may  be  supplemented  by  the  following  references.  Severe 
judgment  is  pronounced  upon  Wieland's  work  by  the  reviewer  of 
Meinhard's  translation  of  Henry  Home's  Elements  of  Criticism  in  the 
Allgemeine  deutsche  Bibliothek  (1766,  vol.  n,  1,  p.  36):. 

Wie  gut  diese  Uebersetzung  sey,  kann  der  Augenschein  gleich  frappant  lehren, 
wenn  man  nur  ein  paar  Stellen  aus  dem  Shakespear  nach  dieser  Uebersetzung  gegen 
die  steife,  geschmacklose  Uebersetzung  halt,  die  jetzt  in  der  Schweiz  erscheint,  und 
wodurch  dieser  grosse  englische  Dichter  mehr  entstellt  als  in  unsre  Sprache  heriiber 
getragen  worden. 

The  signature  '  B '  to  this  review  corresponds  to  '  Westfeld/  in  Parthey's 
Mitarbeiter  an  der  Allgemeinen  deutschen  Bibliothek. 

In  a  superficial  review  (signed  '  Dtsch ')  of  C.  H.  Schmidt's  Theorie 
der  Poesie  in  Klotz's  Deutsche  Bibliothek  der  schonen  Wissenschaften 
(Halle,  1768;  vol.  I,  p.  3)  Wieland's  translation  receives  favourable 
mention : 

Eben  so  ist  es  Ihnen,  mein  Herr  S.,  mit  Wielanden  gegangen.  1st  es  nicht  wahr, 
jetzt  wiirden  Sie  ihr  Urtheil  von  seinem  Shakspear  gerne  zuriicknehmen,  nachdem 
Sie  Lessings  Dramaturgic  gelesen  haben  ?  Schon  lange  zuvor  habe  ich  geglaubt, 
dass  Wielands  Uebersetzung  so  schlecht  nicht  ist,  als  es  den  Kunstrichtern  gefallen 
hat,  sie  abzumahlen.  Diese  Herren  wollten  uns,  wenn  es  Ihnen  gegliickt  hatte,  die 
besten  Schriften  aus  den  Handen  kritisireri,  die  nicht  aus  ihrer  Litteraturschule 
herstammten.  Sie,  Herr  Schmidt,  und  Herr  Fll.  und  wie  sie  weiter  heissen,  mb'gen 
einmal  cine  Uebersetzung  von  Shakspear  liefern,  die  die  Wielandsche  iibertrifft.  Sie 
soil  uns  willkommen  seyn :  allein  bis  dahin  bitte  ich  Sie,  erlauben  Sie  uns  andern, 
die  Wielandsche  Arbeit  nicht  schlecht  zu  nennen. 

The  estimate  of  Wieland's  Shakespeare  in  Jordens'  Lecdkon  deutscher 
Dichter  und  Prosaisten  (Leipzig,  1810,  vol.  V,  p.  404) — the  standard 
work  of  reference  of  that  time — may  be  regarded  as  expressing  the 
sober  and  final  judgment  of  the  eighteenth  century: 

Durch  diese  Uebersetzung  (ein  schweres  Unternehruen,  da  die  Bahn  zu  brechen 
war)  hat  sich  Wieland  um  den  theatralischen  Geschmack  in  Deutschland  grosse 
Verdienste  erworben.  Seine  Verdeutschung  und  Lessings  Anpreisungen  zogen  die 
Aufmerksamkeit  auf  den  Englischen  Dichter;  man  las,  man  studirte,  und  bekam 
allmahlig  andere  und  bessere  Begriffe  von  Menschendarstellung  in  theatralischen 
und  andern  Werken. 

Wieland's  translation  and  the  interest  and  criticism  which  it  en- 
gendered brought  about  two  significant  results :  first,  the  introduction 
of  Shakespeare  upon  the  German  stage  and  secondly,  a  demonstration 

1  Cf.  Stadler,  Q.-F.  cvn,  pp.  75—94. 


F.    \V.    MEISNEST  39 

of  the  fact  that  a  translation  of  Shakespeare  was  not  only  possible  but 
desirable. 

After  the  first  successful  performance  of  the  Tempest  on  the  stage  at 
Biberach  (1761)  in  Wieland's  version  this  small  Swabian  town  became 
the  centre  of  a  Shakespearian  cult.  The  Tempest  was  the  greatest 
favourite  on  this  stage  and  the  most  frequently  repeated.  Macbeth 
(1771-2),  Hamlet  (1773-4),  including  the  gravediggers'  scene  which 
even  Garrick  had  expunged,  Romeo  and  Juliet  (1774-5)  were  each 
performed  four  times,  and  Othello  (1774),  As  You  Like  It  (1775),  and 
The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  (1782)  each  three  times  in  the  years 
indicated — and  all  in  Wieland's  version.  At  least  two  members  of  the 
Biberach  dramatic  society  of  which  Wieland  was  director  (1761-9),* 
Karl  Fr.  Abt  and  his  wife,  became  leading  members  of  various  theatrical 
companies  and  carried  the  news  of  the  Shakespeare  performances  at 
Biberach  to  the  principal  cities  of  northern  and  central  Germany. 
With  Madame  Schroder  they  established  the  first  German  theatrical 
company  at  The  Hague  (1774)  and  in  1780  the  first  at  Bremen,  of 
which  Abt  was  the  director.  Of  Frau  Abt  in  the  role  of  Hamlet  at 
Gotha  (May  10,  1779)  it  is  said:  'Madame  Abt  hat  die  Rolle  des 
Hamlet  gottlich  gespielt1.' 

In  1773  Hamlet  was  performed  at  Vienna  in  Heufeld's  version 
based  on  Wieland's  translation,  and  three  years  later  after  Friedrich 
Ludwig  Schroder  had  seen  Hamlet  on  the  stage  at  Prague,  he  hastened 
home  and  within  a  few  days  completed  his  version  of  the  play,  which 
was  given  Sept.  20,  1776,  in  the  Hamburg  theatre. 

In  making  a  complete  and  faithful  translation  of  the  great  master- 
pieces his  chief  aim  and  purpose,  Wieland  was  in  advance  of  most  of 
the  best  scholars  and  critics  of  his  time,  such  as  Weisse,  Nicolai,  Herder 
and  Gerstenberg,  who  either  opposed  all  translations  of  Shakespeare,  or 
at  most  favoured  the  translation  of  selected  passages  with  synopses  of 
the  remainder.  His  high  ideal  was  best  realised  in  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream,  where  the  metre,  style  and  spirit  of  the  original  were  so 
successfully  reproduced  that  Eschenburg  accepted  the  entire  translation 
without  averaging  more  than  two  or  three  changes,  mostly  formal,  to 
a  page.  The  rabble-scenes  and  the  Pyramus  and  Thisbe  play  were 
exceptionally  well  done.  Schlegel  adopted  the  former  with  few  changes 
and  the  latter  without  any.  But  often  Wieland  failed  to  accomplish 
his  high  aims,  as  is  most  evident  in  the  Tempest  and  Romeo  and  Juliet. 

1  Ofterdinger,  Geschichte  des  Theaters  in  Biberach,  Wiirttembergische  Vierteljahreshefte, 
vi  (1883),  pp.  113-126. 


40  Wieland's  Translation  of  Shakespeare 

Shakespeare's  subtle  phraseology,  his  puns  and  quibbles  often  caused 
Wieland  to  despair.  His  much  condemned  'footnotes'  indicate  that 
his  attitude  towards  Shakespeare  underwent  temporary  changes  during 
the  progress  of  the  •  work,  yet  his  general  conception  remained  firm. 
Contemporary  critics  misjudged  and  greatly  undervalued  his  work. 
He  possessed  a  great  part  of  the  genius  of  a  translator,  but  he  lacked 
the  patience  and  perseverance  necessary  for  such  a  gigantic  piece  of 
work. 

F.  W.  MEISNEST. 
SEATTLE,  WASHINGTON,  U.S.A. 


FOUK   CHANSONS   DE   GESTE :    A   STUDY  IN 
OLD   FRENCH   EPIC   VERSIFICATION1. 

C.      'ALISCANS.' 

THE  Aliscans2  is  a  remaniement  of  the  latter  part  of  the  Chanson  de 
Willelme  and  the  Chanson  de  Rainoart,  but  in  its  metrical  form  it. 
stands  nearer  to  the  Chanson  de  Roland  than  to  its  prototype.  The 
'ballad  note'  has  died  away;  the  refrain  has  disappeared3  and  so  too 
have  the  two-lined,  three-lined  and  four-lined  strophes  and  all  the  more 
literal  repetitions.  Retained  are  those  types  only  found  in  the  Chanson 
de  Roland — the  linking  of  the  strophes  and  the  '  laisses  similaires.' 

The  linking  device  is  employed  with  great  frequency ;  the  repetition 
is  less  literal  than  in  the  Willelme  but  there  is  so  much  of  it  that  its 
effect  is  thoroughly  tiresome.  Movement  is  checked  far  too  completely. 

in. 
1.  57.     Et  Viviens  se  combat  par  a'ir 

Devers  1'Archant,  mais  pres  est  de  morir, 
Par  mi  ses  plaies  voit  ses  boiaus  issir. 

IV. 

Viviens  est  en  milieu  de  1'Archant, 
Et  sa  boele  li  vait  del  cors  issant;... 

93.     Vers  les  vachiers  s'eu  vet  esporounant ! 
Diex  pent  de  1'ame,  sa  fin  va  aprochant ! 

v. 

Viviens  torne,  ke  mais  ne  veut  fuir, 
Vers  les  vachiers,  qui  diex  puist  maleir ! 


109a.     Li  quens  Bertrans  fu  molt  de  grant  air  : 
Quant  les  vachiers  voit  a  torbes  venir 
Mout  les  redoute,  ne  vos  en  quier  mentir 
Ne  set  ke  faire,  vers  aus  n'osa  guenchir. 

VI. 

Li  quens  Bertrans  voit  venir  maint  vachier 

De  la  maisnie  au  Sarasin  Gainer.... 

Li  quens  Bertrans  ne  les  ose  aprimier.... 

1  Continued  from  The  Modern  Language  Review,  Vol.  vin,  p.  367. 

2  Ed.  Wienbeck,  Hartnacke  and  Easeh. 

3  The  '  short '  line  that  ends  the  laisse  in  so  many  of  the  William  epics  seems  to  have 
no  connection  with  the  refrain  of  the  Willelme. 


42  Four  Chansons  de  Geste 

The  'laisses  similaires'  of  Guillaume's  regret  over  Vivien  are  retained, 
greatly  elaborated ;  five  long  laisses  take  the  place  of  the  former  three. 
The  advantage  is  not  wholly  on  the  side  of  the  poet  of  the  Aliscans — 
one  misses  something  of  the  naivete  and  simplicity  of  the  older  poem 
but  the  remanieur  knows  better  how  to  secure  movement  and  work  up 
to  a  climax  and  he  has  heightened  the  pathos  by  bringing  in  Vivien's 
relations  with  Guiborc. 

No  '  laisses  similaires '  are  found  setting  forth  the  successive  phases 
of  a  single  episode  as  in  the  Roland  and  more  roughly  in  the  Willelme 
and  the  Rainoart1,  but  the  scene  in  which  the  arrival  at  Orange  of  the 
different  members  of  the  'geste'  with  their  forces  is  depicted  is  not 
unlike  in  character.  Literal  repetition  is  for  the  most  part  avoided 
here  but  the  laisses  are  similar  in  movement  and  work  up  to  the  same 
climax. 

4129.     Par  devers  Termes  s'est  li  quens  regardes, 
De  cevaliers  voit  iiii  mile  armes, 
Les  hantes  roides,  les  gonfanons  fermes, 
As  nueves  targes,  as  destriers  sejornes... 
Ernaus  i  fu,  li  preus,  li  aloses, 
Ciex  de  Geronde,  qui  tant  est  redoutes. 
Li  quens  Guillaumes  le  reconut  asses, 
As  grans  banieres  les  a  bien  ravises. 
'  Dame  Guibors '  dist  li  quens,  '  or  vees  ! 
Ves  la  Ernaut  et  ses  riches  barnes, 
Ne  la  garra  Tiebaus  ne  Desrames. 
Demain  sera  Bertrans  desprisones.' 
'  Sire,'  dist  ele,  '  or  verrons  ke  feres, 
Com  Vivien  no  neveu  vengeres.' 
Ains  ke  Guiborc  ait  ses  dis  parfines, 
Sont  descendu  desous  Orenge  es  pres, 
Tendent  lor  loges  et  pavilions  et  tres 
Or  croist  la  force  dant  Guillaume  au  cort  nes. 

LXXXVII. 

Endementiers  k'il  ont  leur  tres  bastis 
Et  establerent  et  cevaus  et  rorichis, 
Guillaumes  guarde  par  mi  .i.  pin  antis 
Et  voit  venir  Buevon  de  Commarchis, 
En  sa  compaigne  x  mile  fervestis 
As  hantes  roides,  as  confanons  trelis, 
As  nueves  targes,  as  destriers  Arabis. 
D'autre  part  vint  ses  peres  Aimeris. 
A  iii.m.  as  vers  iaumes  brunis 
De  herbonois  ki  les  cuers  ont  hardis. 
Li  quens  Guillaumes  les  a  molt  bien  choisis, 
Dame  Guiborc  les  moustre  li  gentis : 
'  Vees  comtesse,  la  vient  en  eel  larris 
Une  compaigne  molt  grant  as  pignons  bis. 
Chou  est  mes  peres,  Aimeris  li  floris, 
Et  d'autre  part  Buevon  de  Commarchis 
Ki  en  prison  a  anbes  ii  ses  fis 

1  Cf.  the  family's  different  offers  of  assistance,  2551—2573. 


MILDRED    K.    POPE  43 

En  Alischans,  ou  paieu  les  ont  pris 
Aveuc  Bertran,  dont  mes  cuers  est  maris. 
Mais  se  diex  plaist,  ki  en  la  crois  fu  mis 
Nous  les  ravrons,  ains  ke  past  le  tiers  dis 
Ne  la  garra  Tiebaus  li  Arabis 
Ne  Desrames  s'il  ne  s'en  est  fuis.3 
'Diex'  dist  Guibors,  'je  vos  en  rent  merchis.' 
Guillarne  enbrace  an  cort  nes  le  marchis, 
Les  iex  li  baise  et  la  bouce  et  le  vis. 
Et  cil  descendent  sous  Orenge  el  laris, 
Tendent  leur  loges  et  leur  tres  ont  bastis  ; 
Or  croist  la  force  Guillaume  le  marchis.... 

LXXXVIII. 

Endementiers  ke  cil  vont  herbergant 
K'il  vont  ronchis  et  cevaus  establant, 
Guillaumes  garde  sor  destre  en  .i.  pendant 
Si  voit  venir  dant  Bernart  de  Brubant 
En  sa  compaigne  maint  cevalier  vaillant. 
iii  mile  furent,  cascims  ot  jaserant 
Et  bon  escu  et  bon  elme  luisant. 
'  Dame  Guiborc,'  dist  li  quens  en  riant, 
'Ves  la  Bernart,  ki  la  vient  cevaucant. 
Bien  le  conois  a  eel  destrier  baucant.... 
Mar  i  entrerent  Sarrasin  &  Persant ! 
Chier  la  quit  vendre  la  mort  de  Viviant, 
Ke  laissai  mort  deseur  1'erbe  en  1'Ardant, 
A  la  fontaine,  dont  li  dois  sont  bruiant. 
Ot  le  Guiborcs,  de  pitie  va  plorant.' 
'  Sire,'  fait  ele,  '  Jesus  vos  soit  aidant.' 
Li  quens  Bernars  est  descendus  a  tant 
Desous  Orenge  en  .i.  pre  verdoiant. 
Li  cevalier  furent  tuit  descendant 
Et  escuier  et  gar$on  &  serjant. 
De  leur  tres  tendre  se  vont  forment  hastant. 
Or  va  Guillaume  molt  grant  force  croisant. 

Structure  of  the  Strophe. 

The  only  introductory  device  apart  from  the  linking  is  the  use  of  a 
descriptive  line  or  a  descriptive  summary  in  general  terms. 

693.     Li  quens  Guillaumes  ot  molt  le  cuer  dolant, 
Molt  fu  iries  et  plains  de  mautalent. 

1840.     Molt  fu  li  deus  en  Orenge  pesans. 

217.     Grans  fu  1'estors,  par  verte  le  vos  di, 
Preu  sont  li  conte  et  parent  et  ami, 
Ne  se  fauront  tant  com  il  soient  vif. 

5578.     En  Alischans  ont  molt  grant  caplison 
Paien  glatisent  et  urlent  com  gaignon. 

5623.     Biaus  fu  li  jors  et  li  solaus  luist  cler 
Et  la  bataille  fist  molt  a  redouter. 
En  .cc.  lieus  i  veissies  capler, 
Cors  et  buisines  et  olifans  soner, 
Molt  hautement  ensegnes  escrier 
Paiene  gent  et  glatir  et  huller 
Et  sor  Franceis  guencir  et  trestorner.... 


44  Four  Chansons  de  Geste 

The  strophe  end  is  more  varied  but  much  less  so  than  in  the 
Roland ;  fewer  devices  are  used,  and  one  or  two  recur  with  wearisome 
frequency. 

A  number  of  strophes,  considerably  fewer  in  proportion  than  in 
the  Roland,  end  off  with  the  speech  of  one  of  the  personages1,  but  the 
chorus-like  speech,  so  frequent  in  the  older  poem,  is  never  found.  The 
line  of  foreboding  that  concludes  a  few  of  the  Roland  laisses  is  elaborated 
and  often  replaced  by  several  lines  of  description  of  coming  events. 

end  vin,  1.  215.     Lors  renovele  li  estours  moult  pesans. 
Maint  gerxtil  home  perdi  iluec  son  tans, 
Ki  puis  ne  vit  ne  fame  ne  enfans. 

end  ix,  1.  254.     Cele  bataille  ont  li  nos  desconfi  ; 

Mais  dusqu'a  poi  seront  grain  et  mari 
Se  dex  n'en  pense  por  la  soe  merci. 

end  L,  1.  1786.     Mes  Rainouars  les  fera  parjurez, 

Se  diex  li  sauve  son  grant  tinel  quarrez. 
Mar  i  entrerent  paien  en  eel  regnez  : 
Anchois  qu'on  soist  el  mois  d'aoust  les  blez, 
N'i  voudroit  estre  li  meillor  arivez 
Por  trestot  1'or  qui  onques  fust  fondez. 

Otherwise  the  only  other  device  used  is  an  innovation,  characteristic 
of  the  method  of  recital  but  without  aesthetic  value — the  direct  appeal 
of  the  jongleur  to  his  audience. 

end  xxxi,  1.  971.     Fiere  cha^on,  qui  oi'r  la  voudra, 
Face  moi  pes,  si  se  traie  en  enca  ; 
Ja  en  sa  vie  mes  si  bone  n'orra. 

end  xcix,  1.  4902.     Fiere  bataille  ki  or  velt  escouter 

Face  moi  pes  si  lest  la  noise  ester : 

Ja  mais  meillor  n'orra  nus  horn  chanter2. 

end  LXXXIII,  1. 3952.  Cancon  bien  faite  ki  oir  le  vaura, 
Face  moi  pais  et  si  se  traie  en  6a. 
Onques  gogleres  de  melleur  ne  canta  : 
Si  com  Guillaumes  Vivien  vengera, 
Et  Rainouars  ki  le  tinel  porta, 
Le  palasin  Bertran  desprisona, 
Et  Guielin  et  Guichart  delivra, 
Com  au  deable  Haucebir  combatra,' 
Par  mi  ses  armes  son  grant  tinel  brisa 
Grant  duel  i  ot,  quant  il  fraint  et  quassa 
Mes  neporquant  trestot  1'escervela. 
Ne  fust  1'espee  ke  Guibors  li  dona, 
K'il  avoit  dainte,  dont  il  se  ramembra, 
A  .i.  seul  cop  Golias  en  trenca  : 
Mors  fust  le  jor,  mais  si  les  esmaia, 
K'ainc  Sarrasins  puis  ne  li  trestorna. 

1  So  laisses  x,  xvm,  xix,  xxxiv,  xxxv,  xxxvi,  XL,  etc. 

2  Cf.  cvi. 


MILDRED    K.    POPE  45 

The  change  of  assonance  never  falls  so  clumsily  in  the  Aliscans  as 
was  permitted  in  the  Willelme\  Here  and  there  a  speech  is  divided 
between  two  laisses2  but  no  incident  is  cut  awkwardly  in  two.  On  the 
other  hand  the  nice  coincidence  of  strophe  and  incident  observable  in 
the  Roland  is  also  absent.  Composite  strophes  are  almost  as  frequent 
as  simple  ones,  many  containing  three  or  four  totally  different  themes. 
So  in  laisse  IV,  containing  35  lines,  we  have  described :  Vivien's  con- 
dition, his  onslaught  on  the  pagans,  the  arrival  of  the  maisnie  Gorhant 
and  their  appearance,  Vivien's  flight,  his  remembrance  of  his  vow 
and  his  repentance.  Laisse  VI,  39  lines  long,  contains  the  account  of 
Bertran's  discovery  of  the  enemy  with  Vivien  among  them,  Vivien's 
call  to  him,  Bertran's  answer  and  onset,  Vivien's  swoon  and  the. 
arrival  of  Haucebier  and  his  army. 

Strophes  like  these  might  be  continued  indefinitely.  There  is  no 
real  reason  why  they  should  end  where  they  do.  They  may  be  furnished 
with  a  beginning  and  an  end,  but  they  have  lost  all  individuality. 
Already  the  delicate  balance  of  the  lyrical  and  epic  elements  in  the 
Roland  has  been  disturbed ;  narration  has  got  the  better  of  song ;  the 
Aliscans  is  more  than  half-way  to  the  epic  chronicle. 

D.      'GARIN    LE   LORRAIN3.' 

With  Garin  le  Lorrain  the  chronicle  stage  is  all  but  reached.  The 
strophe  structure  is  virtually  destroyed,  the  language  often  prosaic,  the 
repetitions  without  trace  of  emotional  appeal. 

Repetitions. 

The  repetitions  of  a  kind  are  by  no  means  infrequent — few,  if  any, 
of  the  numberless  encounters  can  be  set  before  us  without  recourse  to 
the  formulae  '  La  veissiez,'  or  '  Qui  ve'ist  (oist).' 

La  veissiez  tant  paveillons  verser, 
Tant  chevaliers  morir  et  craventer 
Tant  Sarrasins  et  huchier  et  crier4. 

Qui  done  ve'ist  Huon  de  Cambresis 
De  bon  vassal  li  poi'st  remembrer5. 

Every  one  of  the  many  journeys  and  goings  and  comings  reaches  its 
conclusion  with  the  phrase  'Jusqu'a  (Tresqu'a)...ne  prinrent  (prent)  fin6.' 
One  recurrent  phrase — '  Merveilles  puis  oir ' — serves  to  denote  surprise, 

1  Cf.  above,  p.  360.  2  Cf.  Aerofles'  speech  in  XL  and  XLI. 

3  Ed.  P.  Paris,  Paris,  1833.  4  i,  p.  13  and  so  on  p.  14,  25,  28,  58,  etc. 

5  i,  p.  174,  cf.  ii,  59,  83,  138,  etc.  6  So  on  i,  pp.  15,  56,  88,  91,  92,  etc. 


46  Four  Chansons  de  Geste 

and  the  still  more  frequent  '  a  poi  n'enrage  vis1,'  to  express  overpowering 
emotion  of  any  kind.  One  stereotyped  line  still  serves  to  depict  an 
ordinary  recurrent  incident,  and  so  the  line  '  L'esve  demandent,  au 
mangier  sont  assis'  occurs  three  times2,  and  the  line  '  Lieve  la  noise, 
si  enforce  li  cris '  twice3.  The  same  proverbial  expression  may  sum  up 
the  situation  for  two  or  more  persons  and  so  Bauduin  de  Flandres  and 
Guillaume  de  Monclin  define  their  attitude  to  the  problem  that  confronts 
them  by  the  saying :  '  Qui  son  nes  coupe,  il  deserte  son  vis4.' 

But  repetitions  like  these  have  obviously  no  poetic  function.  They 
are  due  to  the  limitations  of  the  poet's  vocabulary  and  lack  of  flexibility 
in  his  style.  Once  only,  in  the  lines  concluding  laisses  1  and  2  of  the 
second  chanson,  does  one  get  something  of  the  emotional  effect  of  the 
Willelme  type  of  repetition : 

Li  rois  fu  joienes,  n'iot  point  de  raison 
Ne  le  douterent,  vaillant  un  esperon5. 

Li  rois  fu  Jones,  si  ne  se  pot  aidier, 

Ne  il  nel  prisent  vaillant  un  sol  denier6. 

Elsewhere  and  even  in  the  use  of  some  of  the  above-mentioned 
formulae  the  poet  is  evidently  striving  after  variation  of  phrase.  In 
none  of  the  numerous  sentences  beginning  'La  vei'ssiez,'  etc.,  is  the 
conclusion  put  in  precisely  identical  terms,  and  in  the  rendering  of 
the  messenger's  reports  the  change  from  the  old  literal  plan  shows 
clearly. 

Once  only  do  we  get  partial  repetition,  in  Hardre's  announcement 
of  the  decision  just  made  by  the  King  and  Council : 

'  Kois,  prens  conseil  au  los  que  je  te  dis  : 
Ivers  ira  si  revenra  avris, 
Erbe  croistra  par  chans  et  par  larris, 
La  paisteront  li  bon  cheval  de  pris  ; 
Adonc  irons,  se  il  se  puet  tenir.'... 

Premier  parla  Hardres  au  poil  flori : 
'  Signor  message,  entendez  envers  mi, 
Mori  sire  avez  trouve  moult  degarni 
Ivers  ira,  ci  revenra  Avris, 
Adonc  irons,  car  pre  seront  flori, 
Et  paisteront  cil  destrier  arabi7.' 

Elsewhere  the  reports  are  always  given  in  varied  form.  A  good 
example  is  the  messenger's  summary  of  Begon's  haughty  challenge  to 
each  member  of  the  opposing  family  : 

1  So  on  i,  pp.  39,  41,  43,  54,  etc.  2  So  on  i,  pp.  112  and  147;  n,  178. 

3  i,  pp.  165,  167 ;  n,  204.  4  i,  160 ;  n,  133. 

5  Vol.  i,  p.  129.  6  Vol.  i,  p.  131. 
7  i,  p.  77. 


MILDEED    K.    POPE  47 

'  Messagiers,  freres,  encores  le  te  dis  : 
Dites  Fromont  de  Lens,  le  poestis, 
Que  j'ai  donne  le  cheval  Fromondin, 
Maugre  Bernart,  le  signer  de  Naisil, 
Haim  de  Bordelle,  et  le  conte  Harduin  ; 
Maugre  en  aient  Trestuit  li  Poitevin, 
Si  le  donrai  mon  nevou  Rigaudin1.' 

Et  dit  li  mes  :    '  Encor  a  il  plus  dit. 
Begues  vous  mande  que  malgre  vostre  vis 
Et  le  parage,  quanque  de  vous  a  ci, 
Si  avra  il  le  cheval  Fromondin1.' 

Passages  like  this  are  evidently  far  removed  from  the  simplicity  of 
method  of  the  Willelme. 

In  another  and  more  important  type  of  repetition  the  technique 
of  the  Roland  and  the  Willelme  poet  is  no  longer  followed :  the" 
'laisses  similaires'  are  practically  eliminated,  not  only  in  the  relation 
of  incident  or  conversation  but  also  in  the  laments  over  the  dead. 
Ordinarily,  and  this  is  typical  of  the  lowering  of  the  emotional  pitch 
of  the  poem,  the  regrets  are  given  in  a  concise  line  or  two  or  even 
merely  summarised : 

Tant  mar  i  fustes  frans  chevaliers  gentis 
Qui  vous  a  mort  il  n'est  pas  mes  amis2. 

Desor  Guillaume  de  Poitou  le  guerrier 
Vei'ssiez  toz  plorer  et  larmoier. 
Droes  regrete  son  fil  ancor  legier3. 

Begon's  death  indeed  calls  forth  longer  and  more  elaborate  laments 
from  Garin  and  Fromont,  but  even  here  the  old  model  is  no  longer 
exactly  followed.  The  two  parts  of  Garin's  regret  are  separated  by 
a  swoon  but  we  find  both  included  in  the  same  strophe : 

'  Ha  !   sire  Begues,'  li  Loherains  a  dit, 

'  Frans  chevaliers,  corajeus  et  hardis  ! 

Fel  et  angris  centre  vos  anemis 

Et  dols  &  simples  a  trestoz  vos  amis, 

Tant  mar  i  fustes,  biaus  freres,  biaus  amis  ! 

Tant  as  perdu,  Girbert,  biaus  sire  fils  ! 

Terre  !   car  ouvres,  si  recois  moi,  chaitis, 

Ce  est  domage,  se  je  longement  vis.' 

Garins  se  pasrne,  que  ne  se  pot  tenir. 

Au  relever  or  oez  que  il  dist : 

'  Por  coi,  biaus  freres,  vos  a  Fromons  ocis  ? 

Ja  disoit  il  qu'il  ere  nostre  amis ; 

La  pais  fu  faite  devant  le  roi  Pepin. 

Or  vos  ont  mort !     Ja  n'en  puissent  joir  ! 

Mais  par  celui  qui  le  mont  establi, 

Ne  plaise  Dieu  qui  onques  ne  menti 

Qu'il  en  soit  fait  accordance  ne  fin 

Tant  qu'il  en  soit  detrenchies  et  ocis4.' 

1  n,  pp.  154  and  155.  2  i,  p.  266. 

3  Hj  p.  177.  4  n>  pp.  262,  263. 


48  Four  Chansons  de  Geste 

Fremont's  outburst  of  mingled  anger,  sorrow  and  self-pity  comes 
nearer  the  technique  of  the  Roland,  for  it  is  on  two  assonances  and 
shows  some  repetition,  but  each  laisse  contains  much  more  than  the 
regret  and  its  latter  part  turns  into  a  sketch  of  the  scheme  of  action 
best  for  him  to  follow : 

end  ix. 

'Fis  a  putain,'  dit  Fromons  au  vis  fier, 

'  Vous  moi  disiez  ocis  aviez  brenier, 

Un  veneor,  un  gloruton  pautonnier ; 

Non  1'avez,  voir,  mais  un  bon  chevalier, 

Le  plus  cortois  et  le  mieus  enseignie 

Qui  portast  armes,  ne  montast  en  destrier. 

Fis  a  putain,  com  m'avez  engignie  ! ' 

x. 

'  Fis  a  putain,'  li  quens  Fromons  a  dit  ; 

Vous  moi  disiez  brenier  avez  ocis  ; 

Non  1'avez,  voir,  Diex  vos  maudie  vis  ! 

Ains  avez  mort  un  chevalier  gen  til. 

Begon  a  non  dou  chastel  de  Belin, 

La  niece  avoit  1'empereor  Pepin, 

Si  est  ses  nies  li  Bourguignons  Aubris, 

Gautiers  d'Hanau,  Hues  de  Cambrisis. 

En  si  grant  guerre  m'avez  hui  ce  jor  mis, 

N'en  isterai  tant  com  je  soie  vis. 

Las!   or  verrai  mes  grans  chastiaux  croissir 

Et  ma  contree  esillier  &  laidir 

Et  moi  rneismes  en  convenra  morir 

Et  si  ne  1'ai  ne  porchascie  ne  quis. 

Or  sai  je  bien  comment  porrai  garir ; 

Je  vous  penrai  qui  lui  avez  ocis, 

Ens  en  rna  chartre  ferai  vos  cors  gesir, 

Thiebaut  premier,  mon  nevou  qui  le  fist,  etc....'1 

Structure  of  the  Strophe. 

In  the  structure  of  the  strophe  the  change  of  technique  is  equally 
far-reaching  though  masked  to  some  extent  by  survivals  from  the  past : 
just  as  in  the  Chanson  de  Roland  the  laisse  is  not  infrequently  intro- 
duced by  a  descriptive  line,  reserved,  it  would  almost  appear,  for  this 
purpose,  for  none  occur  in  the  interior  of  the  strophes. 

laisse  v.         Grans  fu  la  noise  et  enforcies  li  cris. 
laisse  xin.     Grans  fu  la  noise  et  fiers  fu  li  hustis. 

laisse  xv.      Grans  fu  la  noise  et  grans  li  chaplei's, 
La  dolors  grans  et  enforcies  li  cris. 

laisse  xvi.     Grans  fu  la  joie  du  Loherenc  Hervi,  etc. 

A  fair  proportion  of  the  strophes  have  no  distinctive  conclusion, 
though  here  also  the  old  technique  still  obtains  to  a  considerable 

1  ii,  pp.  244,  245. 


MILDRED    K.    POPE  49 

extent.     Very  occasionally  there  appears  a  line  of  emotional  content, 
an  expression  of  sorrow  or  pity,  wish  or  imprecation  : 

i.  Oil  sont  dolent  qu'ont  la  parole  oi. 

v.  Dont  grant  dueil  fu  par  tres  tot  le  pai's. 

ix.  Diex  le  consant,  qui  forma  Moysant. 

xxx.  Li  roi  i  sunt.     Dame  Dex  les  confonde. 

The  short  chorus-like  speech  so  noticeable  in  the  Roland  never 
appears,  but  the  end  of  the  laisse  not  infrequently  coincides  with  the 
end  of  a  speech  of  one  of  the  characters1. 

Linking  of  the  strophe  is  also  practised  by  the  poet  though  in  its 
very  slightest  form.  Verbal  repetition  is  very  rare,  and  appears  to  be^ 
almost  confined  to  the  second  part :  e.g. 

Vol.  II,  end  x.  Vienent  a  Biaune,  se  logierent  en  qui. 

beginning  xi.  A  Biaune  vinrent  ou  li  os  se  loja. 

end  xvi.  Tex  s'en  issit  qui  ains  puis  n'en  revint. 

xvn.  Del  chastel  issent  trestuit  communalment. 

More  ordinarily  the  phrase  is  varied  and  in  all  instances  the  linking 
concerns  only  the  last  line  or  two  of  the  one  laisse  and  the  first  line  or 
two  of  the  subsequent  one.  It  is  the  method  of  Turold  rather  than  of 
the  Aliscans  poet. 

Vol.  I,  end  xi.     Paien  1'entendent,  moult  sont  en  grant  frisson. 

xii.     Celle  nuit  furent  paien  moult  effree 

Tous  li  plus  cointes  n'ot  talent  de  chanter. 

end  xxv.     El  palais  monte... 

...Chascuns  son  ostel  prent. 

xxvi.     Herbergie  sont  Franceis  &  areste. 

end  xxvn.     Malades  fu,  s'en  pese  a  maint  baron. 
El  lit  le  cochent,  sans  nule  arestison. 

xxvni.     Durement  fu  enfers  li  rois  Pepins, 

Chargies  de  mal  et  durement  souspris. 

In  so  far  then  as  the  beginnings  and  endings  of  strophes  are 
concerned,  the  Garin  poet  still  has  much  in  common  with  the  older 
tradition.  It  would  seem  from  this  that  he  must  have  had  the  feeling 
for  the  individuality  of  the  strophe  that  underlay  the  traditional  method 
and  yet  in  his  treatment  of  the  body  of  the  strophe  he  shows  no  sign  of 
this.  The  strophes,  many  of  them,  instead  of  forming  compact  wholes, 
consist  of  strings  of  strophes  arbitrarily  linked  by  the  same  assonance. 
It  is  not  only  that  so  many  are  exceedingly  long2  and  highly  composite, 

1  So  laisses  n,  vr,  vn,  xm,  xv,  etc. 

2  A  single  laisse  may  contain  over  600  lines. 

M.  L.  R.  IX.  4 


50  Four  Chansons  de  Geste 

the  more  significant  fact  is  that  their  structural  unity  is  entirely 
destroyed.  The  break  is  often  greater  between  episodes  linked  by 
one  assonance  than  it  is  between  the  separate  laisses,  and  many  a 
strophe  falls  apart  into  several  others,  complete  not  only  in  matter 
but  also  in  form,  introduced  and  concluded  by  the  customary  intro- 
ductory and  concluding  formulae  or  lines1. 

Take,  for  example,  laisse  xxn  of  the  first  chanson.  It  contains 
eleven  separate  themes  and  might  be  split  up  into  almost  as  many 
strophes,  with  appropriate  finish  and  introduction,  were  it  not  for  the 
unity  of  assonance.  We  have  described  in  it : 

(1)  The  council  held  to  determine  the  action  to  be  taken  with 
regard  to  the  invasion  of  Richard,  Duke  of  Normandy,  and  ending  with 
comment  speech : 

'  Diex,'  dist  chascuns,  '  quel  baron  avra  ci ! 
Se  il  vit  gueres,  mort  sunt  si  anemi.' 

(2)  The  campaign,  with  a  normal  type  of  introductory  and  con- 
cluding lines : 

De  Lengres  partent  un  poi  apres  midi... 
Enserre  1'ont  ensi  com  je  vos  di. 

(3)  The  negotiations  between  Begon  and  Richard,  introduced  with 
the  line  '  Begons  apele  le  vassal  Amauri,'  and   ended  with   a  speech, 
'  Volontiers  sire,  li  dux  Richars  a  dit.' 

(4)  The  summary  of  the  terms,  introduced  with  :  '  Je  que  diroie  ne 
conteroie  ci.' 

(5)  The  decision  of  the  king  to  get  back  for  Garin  his  paternal 
fief,  concluded  with  the  line,  '  Esmaie  furent  moult  la  gent  du  pais.' 

(6)  Hardre's  successful  negotiations  with   the  town  of  Metz,  in- 
troduced by  the  line,  '  Or  entendez  que  li  dux  Hardres  fist.' 

(7)  The  news  of  the  incursion  of  the  Saracens  and  the  arrival  of 
Thibaut's  messengers,  introduced  with  the  line :    '  Huiines  comencent 
merveilles  a  venir.' 

(&)  The  council  to  discuss  the  question  of  rendering  help  to 
Thibaut,  introduced  with  the  line  :  '  Li  rois  1'entent,  si  en  bronche 
le  vis/  and  ended  again  with  one  of  the  regular  short  concluding 
speeches:  'Dit  1'empereres :  "  Et  je  1'otroi  ensi."' 

(9)  The  reply  given  to  the  messengers  and  their  lament,  ending 
with  the  wish :    '  Or  nous  secoure  li  rois  de  paradis.' 

(10)  The   arrival   with    the    Lorrains,   beginning  with    the    line : 

1  For  example,     i,  p.  16     Lairons  des  mors  &  chanterons  des  vis. 
p.  51     Or  vous  lairons  et  endroit  de  Herir 

Dirons  des  Hongres,  que  Diex  puist  maleir. 


MILDRED   K.    POPE  51 

'A  1'ostel  ert  li  Loherans  Garins,'  and  ending  with  Fremont's  ac- 
quiescing remark,  ' "  Vollentiers,  sire,"  Fromons  li  respondit.' 

(11)     The  meeting  of  the  Lorrains  and  the  messengers. 

An  amorphous  strophe  of  this  type  is  clearly  a  mistake.  The  change 
of  assonance,  when  it  is  reached,  serves  no  purpose.  Continuous  narrative 
has  triumphed  over  the  older  more  emotional  presentment  of  situa- 
tions and  actions,  and  has  no  business  to  keep  on  with  the  old  outworn 
form.  The  same  tendency  we  may  add  manifests  itself  in  the  style 
which  has  become  so  general  and  matter  of  fact  in  tone  that  the  use 
of  verse  at  all  seems  to  be  wholly  out  of  place.  For  passages  like 
the  following  prose  is  the  only  appropriate  medium  of  expression : 

De  Lengres  partent,  un  poi  apres  midi,  "* 

Cinq  cent  baron  qui  tuit  furent  ami. 

Tant  ont  erre,  ce  sachiez  vous  de  fi, 

Qu'a  Paris  vienent  droit  a  un  sarnedi. 

La  nuit  i  jurent,  et  s'en  vont  au  matin, 

Et  chevalcherent  a  force  et  a  estrif. 

En  Normendie  s'enbatent  un  mardi. 

Les  chasteaus  prenent,  mainte  vile  ont  croissi, 

Et  maintes  proies  par  les  chans  acoilli. 

Gil  Normant  fuient  car  moult  sunt  esbai. 

Li  dues  Richars  n'estoit  pas  loing  de  ci, 

II  repaira  au  chastel  de  Poissi  ; 

Et  li  dues  Begues  la  parole  entendi 

Que  pres  de  lui  furent  si  anemi. 

Li  vassaus  monte  qu'il  ot  le  cuer  hardi 

A  bien  set  ceris  chevaliers  fervestis ; 

Au  chastel  vindrent  ains  que  fust  esclarci. 

As  quatre  portes  ont  lor  gent  establi, 

Enserre  1'ont  ensi  com  je  vous  di. 

I,  xxn,  pp.  68,  69. 

Que  vous  diroie?  la  pais  ont  establi, 

II  s'entrebaisent  et  furent  bori  amin. 

D'anibedui  pars  delivrerent  les  pris. 

Li  os  s'en  va  et  chascuns  s'en  parti. 

Li  rois  de  France  s'en  va  droit  a  Paris, 

Li  dus  de  Mez  va  veoir  Biatris, 

Begues  remaint  de  ca  en  son  pai's. 

Entre  Garin,  Guillaume  de  Monclin, 

Et  de  Verdun  le  riche  Lancelin, 

Tuit  vont  ensemble,  et  furent  bon  amin. 

Li  Loherens  vint  de  nuit  a  Monclin, 

Li  quens  Guillaumes  moult  bon  ostel  li  fist, 

La  nuit  delivre  la  dame  d'un  bel  fil 

Li  Loherens  a  batesme  le  tint, 

Et  par  chierte  U  mist  a  nom  Garin. 

En  filolage  li  laissa  et  guerpi 

Un  des  marchies  de  Mez,  ce  n'est  avis, 

Qui  vaut  cent  livres  de  deniers  parisis. 

La  pas  dura  sept  ans  et  un  demi 

Entre  aus  n'en  ot  ne  noise  ne  hustin. 

Vol.  II,  pp.  211—2,  end  song  n. 

4—2 


52  Four  Chansons  de  Geste 

Garin  le  Lorrain  has  indeed  very  great  qualities  of  its  own :  its 
story  is  excellently  conceived,  its  personages,  heroes  and  villains,  stand 
out  with  a  sturdy  individuality  rarely  surpassed  or  equalled  in  the 
literature  of  the  time,  but  it  shows  clearly  that  the  old  epic  form  is 
doomed,  that  it  is  indeed  already  a  thing  of  the  past  when  the  poet 
is  unhampered  by  tradition.  The  Aliscans  remanieur  and  those  who 
like  him  worked  on  older  poetic  material  might  retain  and  did  retain 
till  much  later  something  of  the  earlier  epic  form — notably  the  '  laisses 
similaires '  and  the  strophe  linking — but  the  maker  of  Garin  le  Lorrain 
had  no  such  help  or  hindrance.  He,  unlike  twelfth  century  epic 
writers,  if  modern  scholarship  is  right  in  its  conclusions1,  worked  freely, 
creating  out  of  his  own  imagination  the  vigorous  personalities  and  the 
long  drawn-out  feud  that  makes  the  subject  of  his  poem.  Up  till  now 
the  historians  have  succeeded  in  finding  no  shred  of  evidence  for  the 
existence  in  fact  of  the  quarrel  between  the  Lorrain  and  the  Bordelais. 
The  originality  of  the  poem  appears  to  me  to  find  ample  corroboration 
in  its  metrical  form.  The  characteristics  that  mark  it — the  destruction 
of  the  strophe,  the  absence  of  'laisses  similaires'  and  of  the  earliest 
types  of  repetition — belong,  if  we  are  not  mistaken,  alone  to  those 
narrative  poems  of  the  twelfth  century  that  have  little  root  in  popular 
tradition,  no  previous  existence  in  verse. 

(To  be  continued.) 

MILDRED  K.  POPE. 
OXFORD. 

1  Cf.  F.  Lot,  L'elemeut  historique  dans  Garin  le.  Lorrain.    (Etudes  d'histoire,  dediees  a 
G.  Monod.) 


AUTHORITIES    ON   ENGLISH   PRONUNCIATION. 

THERE  are  unmistakable  signs  that  the  Englishman's  burden  in 
the  matter  of  spelling,  irksome  to  himself  and  well-nigh  intolerable  to 
foreign  students  of  English,  will  not  continue  to  afflict  humanity  for, 
many  more  generations.  So  high  an  authority  as  the  present  Poet 
Laureate  has  declared  it  in  his  judgment  'absolutely  certain  that  if 
the  English  language  continues  to  be  spoken,  it  will  come  to  be  written 
phonetically1.'  When  that  day  does  come,  dictionaries  will  give  English 
words  phonetically,  in  the  first  column  of  each  page,  as  in  the  Phonetic 
Dictionary  of  the  English  Language,  published  at  Hanover  this  year2 ; 
although  it  will  no  doubt  be  needful  for  a  lengthened  period,  perhaps 
for  centuries,  to  add  afterwards  the  modern  conventional  spelling  as 
well — for  pala3Ographical  purposes. 

The  change  would  add  wings  to  the  speed  with  which  English  is 
already  moving  on  to  become  the  lingua  franca  of  mankind.  For 
example,  on  the  Trans-Siberian  Railway  one  may  hear  foreigners  of 
mixed  nationalities  talking  together  in  English,  as  the  only  language 
understood  by  all  of  them  ;  and  lectures  at  educational  institutions,  both 
in  Japan  and  China,  are  given  in  English  by  lecturers  not  Englishmen, 
as  the  only  medium  of  intercourse  possible  between  them  and  their 
auditors. 

It  is  not  until  one  begins  to  teach  English  to  foreigners  that  one 
realizes  what  a  great  clog  upon  the  progress  of  our  language  towards 
cosmopolitan  acceptance  our  present  system  of  spelling  is.  One  of  our 
leading  English  papers,  published  in  Japan,  recently  devoted  a  leading 
article  to  its  difficulties,  saying  very  truly,  '  The  foreign  teacher  of 
English  in  a  Japanese  school  can  hardly  fail  to  feel  ashamed  sometimes 
of  the  vagaries  of  English  spelling.... The  Japanese  youth  has  to  learn 
the  spelling  of  the  majority  of  English  words  as  he  learns  his  own 
ideographs,  imprinting  the  word  as  a  whole  in  his  memory.' 

1  Essays  and  Studies  by  Members  of  the  English  Association,  1910. 

2  Written  by  H.  Michaelis  and  1).  Jones. 


54  Authorities  on  English  Pronunciation 

But  that  phonetic  spelling  will,  as  the  Poet  Laureate  thinks,  do 
much  to  arrest  that  process  of  '  degradation,'  as  he  calls  it,  which  has 
been  going  on  in  the  pronunciation  of  English  words  ever  since  primitive 
times,  is  not  likely.  The  approximately  phonetic  spelling  of  our  fore- 
fathers did  not  hinder  the  changes  which  converted  the  language  of 
Alfred  into  that  of  Chaucer;  but  the  spelling  followed,  if  it  did  not 
keep  pace  with,  the  pronunciation. 

'  Degraded '  as  it  was,  the  English  of  the  fourteenth  century  served 
Chaucer's  turn  well,  as  the  still  more  'degraded'  English  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  which  Sidney  praised  for  its  ability  '  to  utter  sweetly  the 
conceit  of  the  mind,'  did  Shakespeare's.  Seventeenth  century  English 
sufficed  for  the  organ-music  of  Milton's  verse;  nineteenth  century 
English  for  all  the  varied  harmonies  of  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge, 
Keats  and  Shelley.  And  still  there  is  '  much  music,  excellent  voice '  in 
the  English  language,  as  who  knows  better  than  the  Poet  Laureate  ? 
Nor  is  it  to  be  thought  of  that,  so  long  as  they  retain  nobility  of 
character,  Englishmen  will  ever  cease  to  speak  in  words  of  noble  sound. 
'Nature,'  says  Mr  Bridges  regretfully,  'is  now  always  Neycher.  Tuesday 
is  generally  Cheusdy,  and  tune  will  very  soon  be  chiune!  Who  cares  ? 
Chin  was  formerly  kin  (O.E.  cin),  and  church,  kirk  (O.E.  circe],  but  our 
withers  are  unwrung  by  the  recollection.  At  present,  no  doubt,  the 
pronunciations  cheusdy  and  chiune  are  bad,  because  they  are  not  yet 
sanctioned  by  educated  usage;  therefore  the  Phonetic  Dictionary  very 
rightly  spells  these  words  tju:zdi  and  tju:n,  but  gives  neit/a  for 
nature,  whilst  even  the  N.  E.  D.  allows  ne^t/aj.  For  pronunciation,  as 
for  diction,  usus  is  the  sole  arbiter  loquendi  ;  and  it  is  the  business  of  the 
phonetician,  as  of  the  grammarian,  to  ascertain  and  publish  what  the 
best  usage  of  his  time  actually  is,  not  to  say  what  it  ought  to  be.  But 
it  will  be  found  that  for  pronunciations,  as  for  words,  the  rule  holds  good, 
that  the  newest  of  the  old  and  the  oldest  of  the  new  are  the  best. 

The  two  outstanding  needs  in  connection  with  this  whole  matter  are 
(i)  authoritative  information  as  to  what  is,  for  the  time  being,  the  best 
pronunciation  of  each  English  word  in  ordinary  use,  and  (ii)  an  accredited 
system  of  phonetic  transcription. 

As  regards  the  first  point,  two  leading  phoneticians  of  the  day, 
Mr  Walter  Kippmann  and  Mr  Daniel  Jones,  direct  us  to  the  speech  of 
educated  persons  of  the  London  district  as  a  standard  of  correct  usage. 
But  can  any  local  standard  be  a  satisfactory  one  to  Englishmen  in 
general  ?  Could  not  a  class  standard  be  discovered  which  would  be 
more  generally  acceptable  ?  And  does  not  that  class  consist  of  the 


J.    LAWRENCE  55 

great  body  of  English  men  and  women  who  have  passed  through  our 
best  educational  institutions,  particularly  our  public  schools  and  univer- 
sities ?  May  we  not  say  that  there  is  sufficient  uniformity  in  the  mode 
of  speaking  English  current  among  those  so  educated  to  form,  as  it 
were,  a  dialect ;  and,  if  so,  does  it  not  provide  the  true  Attic  standard 
of  our  tongue  ? 

If  the  English  Association  would  take  this  matter  up  with  as  much 
zeal  as  the  Philological  Society  showed  when  it  set  on  foot  the  New 
English  Dictionary,  how  much  might  be  accomplished !  Local  com- 
mittees to  discuss  pronunciations  might  meet  at  various  centres  in 
England,  whose  recommendations  might  afterwards  be  decided  upon  by 
a  representative  committee  to  meet  in  London,  composed  of  delegates- 
from  all  the  provincial  committees. 

But  before  such  a  work  could  be  entered  upon  it  would  be  necessary 
to  agree  on  a  phonetic  alphabet  to  be  used  by  all  who  should  engage 
in  it. 

Of  existing  phonetic  alphabets  the  two  which  would  have  most  chance 
of  being  selected  are  probably  those  employed  in  the  New  English 
Dictionary  and  the  Phonetic  Dictionary  respectively.  The  one  put 
forward  by  the  Poet  Laureate  is  too  elaborate  to  be  written  easily,  and 
in  spite  of  its  fifty-eight  symbols  is  acknowledged  by  its  author  to  be 
imperfect.  Its  aim  is  not  to  be  scientifically  accurate,  but  to  be  pleasing 
to  the  eye,  on  the  ground  that  'the  aesthetic  objections  to  phonetic 
spelling  can  only  be  met  by  showing  a  good-looking  phonetic  alphabet,' 
for  '  Phonetic  spelling  is  full  of  horrors.'  But  the  horrors  are  purely 
relative  ones,  and  would  cease  to  be  felt  in  a  generation  or  two;  whereas 
the  horrors  of  the  conventional  spelling  are  real  and  lasting. 

No  doubt  the  passage  from  Burke  looks  better  at  first  sight  in  the 
Poet  Laureate's  script  than  in  that  of  the  International  Phonetic 
Association,  especially  to  anyone  who  has  spent  pleasant  days  over 
an  Anglo-Saxon  manuscript.  But  it  is  the  outside  of  the  cup  and  the 
platter  only  which  is  agreeable ;  the  contents  are  nauseous.  What 
ear  could  endure  to  hear  Burke's  sentences,  naturally  so  rhythmical, 
hammered  out  in  the  way  which  would  be  requisite  to  give  all  the 
a's  in  and,  a,  similar,  as,  naturally,  that  (relative),  that  (conjunction), 
affection,  arising,  character  the  same  pronunciation,  in  accordance  with 
the  Poet  Laureate's  transcription,  in  which  they  are  all  represented  by 
the  same  symbol  ? 

In  the  system  employed  by  the  editors  of  the  New  English 
Dictionary  scientific  accuracy  has  been  aimed  at  with  the  most 


56  Authorities  on  English  Pronunciation 

sedulous  care.  Every  separate  vowel  and  consonant  of  the  English 
language  distinguishable  by  them  seems  to  have  been  provided  with 
its  separate  symbol,  and  their  phonetic  alphabet,  given  in  the  '  Key  to 
the  Pronunciation'  prefixed  to  each  volume  of  the  Dictionary,  contains 
about  a  hundred  distinct  forms. 

To  employ  such  a  system  with  entire  consistency  and  accuracy  must 
obviously  be  extremely  difficult,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  in  spite  of 
the  skill  of  the  editors,  and  the  vigilance  of  their  trainbands,  and  of 
the  Clarendon  Press  readers,  even  printer's  errors  have  crept  into  the 
text  of  the  Dictionary. 

Thus  twice  at  least — in  eligible  and  in  mortgage  (verb) — the  letter  g 
is  used  instead  of  d5  to  indicate  a  soft,  or  spirant  sound.  The  dot 
which  indicates  the  stressed  vowel  is  omitted  in  the  transcriptions  of 
compound  (vb.),  littery,  and  ran-tan,  whilst  in  the  alternative  transcription 
of  Parisian  it  is  put  in  the  wrong  place,  preceding  instead  of  following 
the  i.  In  ranunculus  the  colon  (which  indicates  secondary  stress)  is 
used  instead  of  the  dot ;  in  peritonitis  it  is  omitted  after  the  pe  though 
space  is  left  for  it.  The  word  denominational  has  two  chief  stress  marks ; 
so  apparently  has  sanguification,  but  here  for  a  great  wonder  the 
Clarendon  Press  type  is  defective,  as  it  is  again  in  the  transcriptions  of 
cave  (vb.  4)  and  salvation. 

The  use  of  the  sign  ^  to  indicate  obscuration  has  caused  some 
trouble.  In  the  alternative  transcription  of  because  it  is  used  in  the 
ordinary  way  as  a  sign  of  quantity ;  in  the  transcriptions  of  affiliate 
(ppl.  a),  habilitate,  holography,  haplology,  latinity,  parcemiac  it  seems 
to  be  wanting. 

For  pasting  we  find  e1  instead  of  e1,  as  for  paste ;  in  the  transcription 
of  detritus  we  have  ei  for  ai.  The  letter  x  instead  of  ks  is  used  in  the 
transcription  of  elixir. 

These  slips  in  a  work  of  such  magnitude  as  the  New  English 
Dictionary  are  of  slight  importance,  though  the  one  -first  mentioned 
led  a  young  Japanese  pupil  of  mine  into  supposing  that  eligible  is 
pronounced  with  a  hard  g.  But  few  as  they  are,  they  suffice  perhaps 
to  show  what  we  might  expect  if  this  system  of  transcription  were 
employed  in  the  printing  of  books  of  which  the  accuracy  was  less 
carefully  safeguarded  than  that  of  those  printed  by  the  Clarendon 
Press. 

Inconsistencies  in  the  use  of  the  phonetic  symbols  are  of  far  more 
importance,  and  these,  I  think,  are  not  wanting  in  the  New  English 
Dictionary. 


J.    LAWRENCE  57 

To  begin  with,  '  the  mark  of  obscuration '  ^  which  is  supposed  '  to 
indicate  at  once  the  theoretical  and  the  actual  pronunciation'  of  the 
vowel  sign  over  which  it  stands  (cf.  N.  E.  D.,  vol.  i,  p.  xxiv)  is  often  found 
over  a,  which  represents  a  vowel  not  heard  in  stressed  syllables  in 
Modern  English,  except  in  certain  dialects.  Thus  we  find  a  in  the 
transcriptions  of  acquaint,  acquire,  acquit,  adjudge,  adjust,  adjourn, 
adjoin,  astound,  whereas  in  those  of  admire,  advice,  advert  we  find  £. 
That  the  '  theoretical '  pronunciation  of  acquire  is  not  a  but  SB,  just 
as  it  is  of  admire,  we  may  see  from  acquisition,  where  the  secondary 
stress  on  the  first  syllable  preserves  the  clear  vowel,  viz.,  ae.  Cf.  again 
analysis,  salute,  human,  transcribed  with  a,  and  analytic,  salutation, 
humanity,  with  ae ;  and  similarly  in  very  many  such  pairs.  En  passant, 
the  doubt  may  be  expressed  whether  the  'actual'  pronunciation  of 
initial  a  in  acquaint  etc.  differs  appreciably  from  that  of  initial  a  in 
admire .  etc.  The  Phonetic  Dictionary  represents  the  initial  vowel  of 
all  eleven  words  by  a.  Again  in  the  case  of  unstressed  e  the  mark  of 
obscuration  is  often  not  used,  as  in  linen,  transcribed  with  ?en,  leaden 
with  'n.  It  may  be  answered  that  in  these  words  the  pronunciation  of 
e  does  not  '  approach  or  fall  into  the  sound  of  the  mid- mixed  vowel  a  ' 
(N.  E.  D.,  I,  p.  xxiv).  But  does  it  do  so  in  the  case  of  remain,  transcribed 
with  £  ?  Or  is  the  first  i  of  vanity,  which  is  given  as  I,  sounded  approxi- 
mately as  a  ?  (Cf.  the  '  Key '.) 

It  appears,  then,  that  little  purpose  is  served  by  the  use  of  the  mark 
of  obscuration,  for  at  present,  at  all  events,  the  conventional  spelling 
indicates  in  general  clearly  enough  the  original  of  the  vowel  a  in  a  word 
as  pronounced. 

Still  less  happy  is  the  use  in  the  New  English  Dictionary  of  the 
'avowedly  ambiguous'  symbol  a  to  represent  the  vowel  in  pass,  command, 
<  variously  identified  by  different  speakers  with  a  in  man,  and  a  in 
father '  (N.  E.  D.,  I,  p.  xxiv).  Surely  in  the  case  of  pass  at  any  rate  it  is 
not  a  matter  of  indifference  which  pronunciation  is  used ;  and  so  again 
for  path,  past,  pastor,  pasture,  bath,  basket,  cask,  clasp,  class,  flask.  In 
these,  and  a  host  of  like  words,  the,  use  of  the  ambiguous  symbol  a  puts 
a  dialectal  pronunciation  on  the  same  footing  as  the  educated  one.  If, 
in  concession  to  Northern  usage,  ae  is  permitted  in  these  words,  in 
concession  to  Southern,  a  might  have  been  permitted  in  ass,  which  one 
may  hear  pronounced  with  that  vowel  in  Devonshire  even  by  clergymen. 
Moreover,  according  to  the  late  Dr  R.  J.  Lloyd,  it  is  rather  the  French  a 
of  patte  than  the  South  English  ae  of  man  that  is  heard  half-long  in 
the  Northern  pronunciation  of  words  like  glass,  chaff,  cast  (spelt  in  the 


58  Authorities  on  English  Pronunciation 

N.  E.  D.  with  a).     That  is,  the  real  Northern  vowel  in  such  words  is 
not  a  front  vowel  like  S.  Eng.  ae,  but  is  more  retracted. 

The  diacritical  mark  v  to  indicate  '  the  doubtful  length  of  the  o  in 
off,  soft,  lost  (by  some  made  short  as  in  got,  by  some  long  as  in  Corfe,  by 
others  medial) '  has  also  been  used  in  the  N.  E.  D.  not  very  consistently. 
Why  do  we  find  it  for  malt,  salt,  but  not  for  halt,  halter,  which  are  both 
given  with  $  ?  The  vowel  of  halter,  at  least,  is  not  longer  than  that  of 
salt.  So  again  palter  is  given  merely  with  9,  whilst  for  falter  both  9 
and  9  are  allowed.  The  Phonetic  Dictionary,  more  consistently,  gives 
the  vowel  in  all  these  words  as  O'  (i.e.,  as  short  or  long  at  will). 

It  was  perhaps  well  in  a  work  like  the  New  English  Dictionary  to 
call  attention  to  the  difference  said  to  be  made  by  some  between  the 
vowels  in  fir  and/w/r,  though  the  statement  (N.  E.  D.,  I,  p.  xxiv)  that  they 
are  'discriminated  by  the  majority  of  orthoepists'  may  be  questioned, 
seeing  that  they  have  been  recognised  as  identical  since  early  in  the 
seventeenth  century1.  The  difference  is  merely  one  between  a  raised 
and  a  lowered  variety  of  9,  and  is  hard  to  learn  from  a  pronouncing 
dictionary.  Mr  Burch,  in  his  Pronunciation  of  English  by  Foreigners 
(p.  42),  recommends  a  quaint  experiment  (pinching  the  nose)  by  which  to 
recognise  when  Sir,  girl,  pearl  are  pronounced  truly.  The  pronunciation 
of  girl  as  '  gurl/  we  are  told  by  him,  stamps  the  speaker  as  not  being  of 
the  caste  of  Vere  de  Vere.  But  this  word  is  quite  an  exceptional  one. 
Miss  Soames  tells  us  that  though  aiming  at  the  pronunciation  goel  (oe 
as  in  turn)  she  really  pronounced  the  word  '  something  like  ea  in  pear.' 
And  to  this  pronunciation  ladies  in  general,  perhaps,  incline.  Neither 
Dr  Lloyd,  Mr  Rippmann,  nor  the  authors  of  the  Phonetic  Dictionary 
distinguish  the  vowels  of  fir  and  fur.  The  same  thing  is  true  of  the 
vowels  in  watch  and  Scotch,  which  the  N.E.D.  represents  differently, 
though  allowing  that  they  are  '  identified  by  many '  (!). 

There  is  certainly  more  justification  for  the  distinction  made  in  the 
N.  E.  D.  between  the  vowels  in  such  pairs  as  law,  lore— maw,  more — 
saiv,  soar  which  are  identified  in  the  Phonetic  Dictionary,  as  by 
Mr  Rippmann  and  other  phoneticians.  Dr  R.  J.  Lloyd,  however,  in  his 
Northern  English  retains  the  distinction  once  generally  made  between 
them.  For  him  the  vowel  in  more  is  the  same  as  that  in  no,  except  for 
the  diphthongal  element  in  the  former ;  whereas  mourn  and  morn  (both 
spelt  mo:n  in  the  Phonetic  Dictionary)  are  represented  by  him  with  o: 
and  o:  respectively.  Similarly  the  N.  E.  D.  gives  us  6a  for  bourn,  but  § 
for  born. 

1  See  0.  Jespersen,  A  Modern  English  Grammar,  p.  319,  §§  11,  12. 


J.    LAWRENCE  59 

This  represents,  I  believe,  my  own  pronunciation,  unless  I  too 
have  caught  the  haw-yaw-baw  style  of  speaking  more  than  I  am  aware. 
But  how  long  has  the  maw  pronunciation  of  more  been  current  English  ? 
In  1872,  when  the  professors  of  Latin  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge, 
(Palmer  and  Munro),  issued  their  syllabus  of  proposed  pronunciation 
of  Latin,  they  actually  took  the  word  more  to  illustrate  the  value  of 
Latin  6,  directing  that  this  should  be  pronounced  *  as  Italian  closed  o : 
nearly  as  in  German  ohne,  English  more! 

Therefore,  before  we  accept  the  pronunciation  of  the  London 
phoneticians  for  more  etc.,  there  should  be  some  enquiry  made  as  to 
its  prevalence. 

It  is,  however,  in  the  transcription  of  unstressed  syllables  that  we 
find  the  greatest  difference  between  the  New  English  Dictionary  and 
the  Phonetic  Dictionary.  The  former  with  its  fuller  equipment  of 
symbols  aims  at  representing  nuances  which  the  latter  ignores. 

For  example,  the  termination  in  -ate  when  adjectival  is  represented 
in  the  N.  E.  D.  by  -et,  -£t,  and  e*t  in  accurate,  articulate,  and  celibate 
respectively.  The  symbol  e,  however,  is,  I  think,  not  used  in  this 
termination  except  in  the  first  volume,  and  e*t  occurs  but  seldom  in 
adjectives:  maculate  is  given  as  -e*t  but  immaculate  as  -#t  The 
Phonetic  Dictionary  gives  -it  for  the  foregoing  words  (omitting  macu- 
late), a  pronunciation  which  I  am  free  to  confess  has  a  cockney  sound  to 
my  ears.  For  articulate  the  pronunciation  -eit  is  also  permitted  by  it. 
I  should  myself  give  -ot  in  each  case.  Mr  Rippmann,  too,  gives  us  -at 
for  celibate,  fortunate,  but  -it  for  private. 

Again,  substantives  in  -ate  are  represented  in  the  N.  E.  D.  as  -et, 
-#t,  or  -6*t.  Thus  for  advocate,  aggregate  we  find  -et;  for  dictate, 
estimate,  and  the  scientific  terms  carbonate,  manganate,  nitrate  and 
precipitate,  -£t ;  for  aggregate,  correlate,  reprobate,  and  for  acetate, 
methylate,  -e1! 

The  Phonetic  Dictionary  on  the  other  hand  gives  either  -it  or  -eit 
for  advocate,  nitrate,  acetate ,  for  dictate  -eit  (probably  the  general  pro- 
nunciation); for  aggregate,  reprobate,  -it(!). 

Verbs  in  -ate  are  transcribed  -e*t  in  the  N.E.D.,  -eit  in  the 
Phonetic  Dictionary  and  in  Mr  Rippmann's  Specimens.  The  London 
phoneticians  make  the  diphthong  long,  as  in  hate,  mate  (N.  E.  D.  h^t, 
meH),  and  with  reason,  for  in  such  verbs  there  is  usually  a  secondary 
stress  on  the  last  syllable. 

What  distinction  is  intended  between  -et  and  -£t  in  the  N.  E.  D. 
is  not  explained.  In  vol.  I,  p.  i,  separate  (adj.)  is  given  with  both 


60  Authorities  on  English  Pronunciation 

pronunciations,  thus:  -et  (-It),  though  in  its  place  in  the  Dictionary 
we  find  only  -It  for  it.  Probably  e  represents  a  more  open  vowel 
than  £.  It  is  given  in  cases  where  in  the  Phonetic  Dictionary  we 
find  9,  and  especially  before  liquids  and  nasals  :  thus  angel  is  given 
in  the  N.  E.  D.  as  -el,  in  the  Phonetic  Dictionary  as  -al,  -1  ;  and  for 
conscience  we  find  -ens  in  the  N.  E.  D.,  but  -ans,  or  -ns  in  the  Phonetic 
Dictionary.  In  such  positions,  however,  the  N.  E.  D.  transcription  is 
not  uniform.  We  find  with  e,  ashen,  aspen,  children,  linden  ;  with  e, 
anthem,  chicken,  kitchen,  linen  ;  with  a,  enlighten,  mitten  ;  with  ',  enliven, 
kitten.  The  Phonetic  Dictionary  omits  ashen,  gives  aspen  as  -an, 
-en,  or  -in  ;  children  as  -an  or  -n  ;  linden  as  -an  ;  anthem  as 
-am  ;  chicken,  kitchen,  linen  as  -in  ;  enlighten,  enliven,  kitten,  mitten  as 
-n.  Again  the  N.  E.  D.  transcribes  chisel,  gravel,  crewel,  fuel,  gruel 
with  -el  ;  cruel  with  -el  ;  hazel,  grovel,  ousel  with  -'1.  The  Phonetic 
Dictionary  allows  either  -il  or  -al  for  crewel,  cruel,  fuel,  gruel  ;  either 
-al  or  -1  for  gravel,  hazel  ;  and  only  -1  for  chisel,  grovel,  ousel.  Both  for 
the  words  in  -en  and  -el  it  seems  to  me  that  the  Phonetic  Dictionary 
pronunciations  are  the  more  correct  and  consistent.  The  same  remark 
will  apply  to  the  N.E.D.  and  the  Phonetic  Dictionary  transcriptions, 
respectively,  of  words  in  -ery.  Thus  the  New  English  Dictionary  gives 
-eri  for  buttery,  bravery,  flattery,  nunnery;  but  -ari  for  battery, 
butchery,  gunnery,  peppery.  Are  we  to  suppose  that  in  the  first  set 
of  words  the  '  theoretical  pronunciation  '  of  the  ending  is  -eri,  but  in 
the  second  set  not  ?  The  Phonetic  Dictionary  gives  -ari  in  all  these 
cases. 

Other  cases  in  which  it  is  difficult  to  follow  the  transcriptions  in  the 
New  English  Dictionary  are  : 


(i)  gerundive  (dser-)  ;  gerundial 

(ii)  almoner,  analogy  (6)  ;  apothegm,  astrolabe  (#);  asphodel  (O). 

(iii)  asphodel  (-el)  ;  pimpernel  (-el). 

(iv)  audacity  (9-)  ;  authority  (9-,  9-,  9-). 

(v)     carriage  (-id5);  cabbage,  marriage  (-ed5);  equipage  (-eds)  ; 

heritage,  presage  (-Id3). 
(vi)     decomposition  (dt-);  decentralization  (dt-);  demagnetize  (dt-); 

devitrify  (d$-). 

(vii)    nobody  (-b»di)  ;  somebody  (-b$di). 
(viii)   parterre,  partake,    partition    (-a-)  ;    barbaric,    carnivorous, 

harmonious  (-a). 


J.    LAWRENCE  61 

(ix)    paralytic,  paregoric  (par- ) ;  paronomasia  (par-). 

(x)     piteous  (-tias);  duteous  (-tfes);  hideous  (-dias);  beauteous 
(-t'as). 

(xi)     anxiety  (-eti) ;  dubiety  (-fti)  ;  propriety  (-eti). 
(xii)    albeit  ($1-) ;  already  (9!-) ;  almighty  (9!-). 

(xiii)   buckram  (-am);  madam  (-am);  macadam  (-am);  buxom, 
income  (-»m) ;  halidom  (-am). 

In  most,  if  not  all,  of  these  cases  the  Phonetic  Dictionary,  so  far  as 
it  gives  the  words,  seems  to  me  the  better  guide. 

Discrepancies  like  the  foregoing  appear  to  illustrate  what  the  Poet 
Laureate  says  with  regard  to  the  difficulty  of  carrying  out  '  any  scheme 
of  scientifically  accurate  phonetic  writing,'  namely,  that  '  as  the  distinc- 
tions become  more  delicate,  they  become  at  the  same  time  not  only 
more  difficult  both  to  indicate,  to  identify,  and  to  observe,  but  also 
more  uncertain  to  establish  :  so  that  the  learner  finds  his  powers  most 
taxed  in  matters  of  least  importance  and  authority.' 

It  is  chiefly  in  the  representation  of  vowels,  of  course,  that  the 
difficulty  lies.  So  far  as  consonants  are  concerned,  there  is  little 
difference  between  the  dictionaries. 

For  words  in  -nch  it  is  worth  pointing  out  that  the  New  English 
Dictionary  allows  only  -nj,  except  in  the  case  of  a  few  words  in  p-, 
e.g.  paunch,  pinch,  which  are  given  as  -n*/.  The  Phonetic  Dictionary 
more  liberally  permits  both  -nj  and  -ntj". 

The  Phonetic  Dictionary  with  its  comparatively  few  symbols  (about 
thirty-nine)  was  not  exposed  to  the  pitfalls  which  have  beset  the  path 
of  the  New  English  Dictionary. 

Until  it  appeared  I  had  looked  upon  the  latter  as  our  only  safe 
comprehensive  authority  for  the  pronunciation  of  English  words;  and  a 
year  ago,  when  I  first  seriously  began  the  investigation  of  which  this 
paper  is  a  result,  I  thought  the  delicate  system  of  transcription  of  the 
New  English  Dictionary  more  satisfactory  than  the  rougher  methods  of 
the  International  Phonetic  Association. 

This  opinion  has  gradually  given  way  during  the  last  twelve  months 
to  the  conviction  that  the  N.  E.  D.  editors,  in  attempting  the  perilous 
task  of  differentiating  the  pronunciations  of  words  which  to  the  ordinary 
ear  sound  exactly  alike,  have  fallen  into  inconsistencies  which  cannot 
fail  to  baffle  the  learner  (especially  if  he  be  a  foreigner),  who  strives  to 
adapt  his  pronunciation  to  their  teaching. 


62  Authorities  on  English  Pronunciation 

It  is  not  without  compunction  that  I  point  out  these  specks  of  dust 
which  in  the  course  of  a  quarter  of  a  century  have  gathered  on  the 
majestic  robes  of  the  New  English  Dictionary,  for  few  can  of  late  years 
have  had  more  cause  to  be  grateful  to  it  for  help  in  their  work  than  I. 
But  if  our  great  Dictionary  itself  is  proved  to  be  no  infallible  guide 
in  regard  to  pronunciation,  the  point  for  which  I  am  contending  is 
established. 

There  needs  a  large  Commission  of  Enquiry  on  the  subject  of 
English  Orthoepy ;  the  pronouncements  of  a  few  scholars,  however 
eminent,  can  settle  nothing:  referendum  est. 

J.  LAWRENCE. 

TOKIO. 


THE   'ANCREN   RIWLE.' 


PROSPECTS  have  been  several  times  held  out  of  a  new  edition  of  the 
Ancren  Riwle,  the  most  important  prose  text  of  the  earlier  Middle 
English  period.  There  seems,  however,  to  be  no  immediate  likelihood 
of  getting  it ;  and  meanwhile  we  are  dependent  upon  the  text  edited 
by  Morton  for  the  Camden  Society  as  long  ago  as  1853,  based  upon 
a  manuscript  which  departs  widely  from  what  seems  to  have  been  the 
original  form  of  the  text.  A  considerable  number  of  difficulties  are 
to  be  found  in  Morton's  text  which  can  be  removed  by  collation  of 
the  other  manuscripts,  but  these  have  never  been  made  available  for 
critical  purposes.  Morton,  indeed,  gave  a  certain  number  of  various 
readings  from  two  of  them,  and  sometimes  proposed  an  emendation  of 
the  text  on  the  basis  of  these  readings,  but  his  collation  is  very  un- 
systematic, and  the  manuscript  which  presents  by  far  the  most  accurate 
text  was  not  seen  by  Morton,  and  has  never  been  utilised  at  all,  so  far 
as  the  public  is  concerned. 

I  have  recently  made  a  complete  collation  of  this  manuscript 
(Corpus  Christi  College,  Cambridge,  402)  with  Morton's  text,  and 
propose  to  publish  a  selection  of  the  results,  together  with  the  readings 
of  all  the  other  thirteenth  century  manuscripts  in  the  passages  dealt 
with.  This  collation  has  the  practical  effect  of  removing  most  of  the 
textual  difficulties,  and  of  setting  right  in  a  good  many  instances  the 
connexion  of  sentences  and  the  punctuation.  In  addition  to  this, 
attention  will  be  especially  called  to  several  passages  of  considerable 
interest  which  are  found  in  the  Corpus  manuscript,  and  to  some  extent 
in  others,  but  have  never  as  yet  been  printed. 

As  a  preliminary  to  this  textual  work,  I  propose  to  investigate  the 
relation  of  the  English  Ancren  Riwle  to  the  existing  French  and  Latin 
versions. 


64  The  '  Ancren  Riivle* 

I. 

THE  ORIGINAL  LANGUAGE. 

Morton,  in  the  Preface  to  his  edition,  stated  that  a  manuscript  copy 
of  the  Ancren  Riwle  in  Latin  and  another  of  the  same  book  in  French 
had  formerly  existed  among  the  Cotton  MSS.  (Vitellius  E.  vii  and 
F.  vii),  but  that  both  these  had  been  destroyed  in  the  fire  of  1731. 
This  statement  has  been  repeated  by  others,  and  apparently  no  regard 
has  been  paid  to  the  fact  that  many  of  the  manuscripts  reported  as 
destroyed  in  that  fire,  or  so  damaged  as  to  be  useless,  have  in  recent 
years  been  very  carefully  and  skilfully  restored.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
MS.  Cotton,  Vitellius  F.  vii  may  be  said  to  have  been  completely 
restored ;  that  is,  all  the  leaves  of  it  exist,  and  though  they  are  shrunk 
and  to  some  extent  discoloured,  the  writing  upon  them  may,  I  think, 
be  almost  completely  made  out,  except  in  the  case  of  a  line  or  two  at 
the  top  of  each  page.  The  other  book  mentioned  (Vitellius  E.  vii)  has 
suffered  far  more  severely,  and  only  a  part  of  it  has  been  to  any  extent 
restored.  Moreover,  the  existing  leaves  are  so  much  damaged  that  it 
is  impossible  to  read  the  book  continuously  anywhere,  and  we  can  only 
judge  of  its  nature  by  such  fragments  as  we  are  able  to  make  out. 

Let  us  deal  first  with  the  French  book,  Vitellius  F.  vii. 

This  is  a  folio  of  164  leaves  measuring  on  an  average  now  about 
8-|  inches  in  height,  but  formerly  more,  written  in  two  columns  to  the 
page,  43  lines  to  the  column,  in  a  good  hand,  probably  of  the  beginning 
of  the  fourteenth  century.  The  article  with  which  we  are  concerned 
occupies  the  first  part  of  the  volume,  ff.  1 — 70.  The  treatise  which 
these  leaves  contain  is  identical  with  that  which  we  have  in  English 
under  the  name  of  Ancren  Riwle  (or  Ancrene  Wisse).  The  two 
books  indeed  correspond  so  minutely,  that  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel 
that  one  must  have  been  directly  translated  from  the  other.  It  should 
be  mentioned,  however,  that  at  a  certain  point  in  the  French  book 
there  is  a  considerable  omission,  evidently  caused  by  loss  of  leaves 
in  the  manuscript  from  which  it  was  copied.  On  f.  31  the  text  passes 
without  any  visible  break  from  p.  166,  1.  10,  to  p.  208,  1.  11,  of  Morton's 
edition,  the  transition  being  effected,  without  regard  to  sense,  as  follows: 
'lessez  le  siecle  ceo  dit  il  et  venez  a  mei  cest  la  fin  ouekes  coment  la  ceue 
point  et  vistement  fuiez  vous  ent  a  veoir  ceo  qe  vous  soiez  enuenimee.' 
The  amount  that  is  omitted  would  about  correspond  to  the  contents  of 
eight  leaves  in  a  manuscript  of  the  same  form  as  this,  and  it  is  reason- 


G.    C.    MACAULAY  65 

able  to  suppose  that  a  whole  quire  had  been  lost  in  the  book  which  the 
copyist  had  before  him. 

In  a  case  of  this  kind  the  a  priori  probabilities  are  of  course  in 
favour  of  the  supposition  that  the  English  was  translated  from  the 
French  ;  and  this  presumption  is  greatly  strengthened  by  the  occurrence 
of  so  many  French  words  in  the  vocabulary  of  this  early  text.  It  is  true 
that  the  French  manuscript  which  we  possess  is  later  in  date  than  the 
thirteenth  century  copies  of  the  English  A  ncren  Riwle ;  but  it  is  clearly 
not  an  original,  as  is  proved  by  the  omission  mentioned  above,  and  it 
may  be  very  far  removed  in  date  from  the  original.  The  language  is 
not  consistently  of  one  period,  but  shows  some  older  Anglo-Norman 
forms,  together  with  others  which  are  later,  and  have  been  influenced' 
by  central  French.  Whatever  language,  however,  may  have  been  first 
adopted  for  the  book,  we  may  say  with  some  confidence  that  it  was 
written  in  England1. 

The  evidence  that  the  English  text  is  actually  a  translation  from 
the  French  is,  I  think,  convincing.  A  considerable  number  of  passages 
may  be  cited  in  which  it  seems  clear,  for  one  reason  or  another,  that 
the  French  has  a  better  claim  to  be  regarded  as  the  original  than  the 
English.  I  select  some  of  these,  giving  references* always  to  the  page 
and  line  of  Morton's  text,  which  for  convenience  I  cite  in  the  quotations. 

P.  24,  1.  11:  'entour  eel  houre  come  len  chante  messe  en  toutes 
religions,'  and  a  few  lines  lower,  'quant  prestres  seculiers  chauntent  lour 
messes.'  The  English  text  looks  like  a  misunderstanding  of  this,  'abute 
swuch  time  alse  me  singeS  messe  in  alle  holi  religiuns,'  and  below, 
'  hwon  )?e  preostes  of  Se  worlde  singeS  hore  messen.'  In  the  original 
of  course  the  distinction  is  between  the  regular  and  the  secular 
clergy;  and  perhaps  this  may  be  intended  in  the  English  version. 

P.  40,  1.  12 :  '  Dame  seinte  marie  pur  icele  grant  ioie  qe  parempli 
toutes  les  altres  •  quant  il  vous  receut  en  sa  tresgrande  ioie ' ;  that  is, 
'  for  the  sake  of  that  great  joy  which  fulfilled  all  the  rest '  etc.  The 
English  text  has  '  uor  )?e  ilke  muchele  blisse  J?et  fulde  al  J?e  eorSe,' 
where  '  eorSe '  is  probably  a  corruption  of  '  oSere.'  One  manuscript 
indeed  has  'alle  )?eode '  corrected  later  to  'alle  oJ?ere'V  The  French 
text  gives  the  sense  that  is  required,  and  cannot  have  been  derived 
from  the  English,  with  the  misleading  word  'fulde.' 

P.  50,  1.  1 :  '  Pur  iceo  mes  trescheres  soeres  le  mielz  qe  vous  unqes 

1  The  passage  corresponding  to  p.  82,  1.  13  is  written  at  the  top  of  a  column,  and  for 
the  most  part  cannot  be  made  out,  but  the  word  'Angleterre'  seems  to  be  pretty  distinctly 
visible. 

2  MS.  Cotton,  Cleop.  c.  vi. 

M.   L.  R.  IX.  5 


66  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

poez:"  gardez  voz  ouertures y  tout  soient  eles  petites.'  English:  'Uorjmi 
mine  leoue  sustren,  j?e  leste  ty  ge  euer  muwen  luuieS  our  furies,  al  beon 
heo  lutle.'  There  seems  here  to  have  been  a  confusion  in  the  translator's 
mind  or  eye  between  '  mielz '  and  '  meinz/  and  he  made  the  best  he 
could  of  'gardez'  accordingly. 

P.  66,  1.11:  Noiez  pas  nature  de  geleyne  •  la  geleine  quant  ele  ad 
ponus(?)  ne...fors  iangler*  me  qe  gaigne  ele  de  ceo'  vient  lachaue... 
li  told  ses  oees  et  deuoert  toutz  dunt  ele  dust  mener  auant  pigons 
vifs.  Tout  ausi  la  chawe  denfer  le  diable,  etc.1  English:  'Nabbe  heo 
nout  henne  kunde.  pe  hen  hwon  heo  haueS  ileid,  ne  con  buten  kakelen. 
And  hwat  bijit  heo  J?erof  ?  KumeS  ]?e  coue  anonriht  7  reueS  hire  hire 
eiren,  7  fret  al  ty  of  hwat  heo  schulde  uorS  bringen  hire  cwike  briddes : 
7  riht  also  J>e  luftere  coue  deouel/  etc. 

In  the  first  place  '  Noiez  pas '  means  '  Do  you  not  hear  ? '  (i.e.  '  Have 
you  not  heard  ? '),  an  expression  which  occurs  also  elsewhere  in  this  text 
in  introducing  illustrations2.  This  seems  here  to  have  been  confused 
with  '  Neietz  pas,'  '  Do  not  have.'  Then  as  to  the  rest  of  the  sentence, 
the  French  seems  to  throw  light  on  what  has  hitherto  been  a  difficulty 
in  the  English  texi,  namely  the  use  of  the  word  '  coue.'  In  the  French, 
'  chaue '  and  '  chaw6 '  are  clearly  substantives,  and  stand  for  the  name 
of  a  bird,  that  which  is  given  in  Godefroy  with  the  forms  '  choe,' '  choue/ 
'chave,"cave,"kauwe,'  meaning  'owl'  or  sometimes  'jackdaw'('monedula'). 
(I  leave  aside  the  question  whether  these  are  actually  all  forms  of  the 
same  word.)  Probably  in  the  original  French  text  the  word  may  have 
been  '  caue '  or '  kaue,'  and  '  caue '  is  the  form  found  in  the  better  English 
manuscripts.  In  any  case  the  meaning  is  clear  in  the  French  and  obscure 
in  the  English,  apparently  from  a  misunderstanding.  The  French  says 
that  when  the  hen  cackles,  the  jackdaw  comes  and  devours  her  eggs ; 
and  so  the  'jackdaw  of  hell,'  the  devil,  comes  and  devours  the  good 
works  of  the  anchoress  who  chatters  about  them.  In  the  English  text 
there  has  apparently  been  a  confusion  between  '  caue '  as  the  name  of  a 
bird  (unknown  in  English)  and  the  adjective  'caue'  from  OE  'caf.' 
The  fact  that  an  adjective  was  understood  by  some  readers  in  both 
places  is  shown  by  the  substitution  in  one  manuscript3  of  'geape'  in  the 
earlier  clause  and  of  '  luSere '  in  the  later,  for  '  caue.'  The  expression 
'jackdaw  of  hell '  may  be  parallelled  from  other  passages  of  the  Ancren 
Riwle,  e.g.  '  corbin  of  helle,'  '  cat  of  helle.' 

1  This  passage  is  difficult  to  read,  and  I  cannot  make  it  all  out  with  certainty. 
. 2  E.g.  '  Me  surquide  sirer  noyez  vous  qe  dauid  lami  dieu,'  etc.  (p.  50,  1.  10). 
3  Cotton,  Titus  D,  xvm. 


G.    C.    MACAULAY  67 

P.  128,  1.  23:  'ausi  le  fet  entre  multes  ascune  maluree  recluse/ 
*  so  do  some  unhappy  recluses  among  many ' :  that  is,  a  few  of  the  many 
that  there  are.  The  English  is  '  ase  deS,  among  moni  rnen,  sum  uniseli 
recluse,'  which  is  meaningless. 

P.  136,  1.  13.  'Si  auant  come  ele  puit  seit  ludith  cest  vine  dure/ 
1  let  her  so  far  as  she  can  be  Judith,  that  is  live  hardly.'  The  English 
has  '  ge,  uor  so  heo  mei  beon  ludit,  J>et  is  libben  herde ' ;  but  the 
expression  '  uor  so '  is  not  justified  by  the  sense,  for  the  preceding 
sentence  has  no  reference  to  any  conduct  like  that  of  Judith,  whose 
example  is  introduced  here  as  an  additional  point. 

P.  138,  1.  5 :  'si  tost  come  ele  sent  qele  trop  ensuagist,'  'as  soon  as, 
she  feels  that  it  has  grown  too  fat.'  English, '  so  sone  heo  iueleS  )?et  hit 
awilegeS  to  swuSe.'  The  idea  of  fatness  in  reference  to  the  '  fat  calf ' 
spoken  of  above  is  more  appropriate  than  that  of  wildness,  and  it  looks 
as  if  there  had  been  some  confusion  of  the  rare  word  '  ensuagir '  with 
some  such  supposed  verb  as  '  ensauuagir,'  '  to  grow  wild.' 

P.  150, 1. 13  :  '  perd  la  moestesce  de  la  grace  dieu,' '  loses  the  moisture 
of  the  grace  of  God,'  the  appropriate  form  of  expression,  as  the  metaphor 
is  of  the  drying  up  of  a  branch.  The  English  is  '  forleoseS  )?e  swetnesse 
of  Godes  grace,'  which  is  vague  and  conventional. 

P.  222  (last  line) :  '  prisent  et  eshaucent  1'amoyne  qele  fet.'  The 
original  reading  of  the  English  here  is  'herieS  7  heueS  up  )>e  elmesse  ty 
heo  deft.'  This  use  of  '  hebben  up '  in  the  sense  of  '  extol '  will  hardly 
be  found  except  as  a  translation  of  '  exaltare '  or  '  eshaucer,'  and  the 
change  to  '  gelpeS  of '  in  the  Nero  version  of  the  text  indicates  that  it 
was  felt  to  be  awkward. 

P.  230,  1.  10 :  '  Seinte  Marie  come  forement  se  prist  a  ces  pores/ 
'  Saint  Mary,  how  violently  it  acted  on  those  swine.'  The  original 
reading  of  the  English  text  is  '  Seinte  Marie,  swa  he  stone  to  J?e  swin/ 
a  somewhat  unusual  expression,  which  arises,  I  am  disposed  to  think, 
from  a  misreading  of '  prist '  as  '  puist/  the  preterite  of  '  puir.' 

P.  286,  1.  27:  'To  much  felreolac  kundleS  hire  ofte.  Vreo  iheorted 
je  schule  beo.  Anker,  of  oSer  freolac,  haueS  ibeon  oSerhwules  to  freo  of 
hire  suluen.'  This  as  it  stands  is  nonsense.  The  French  is  needed  to 
explain  it.  '  Trop  grant  franchise  engendre  cest  souent  •  franche  de 
queor  deuez  vous  estre :  Recluse  nest  daltre  chose  franche  •  ad  ascune 
foiz  estee  trop  franche  de  lecheresse  sei  meismes.'  (The  last  words 
are  corrupt  and  should  be  perhaps  'trop  franche  de  legeresce  de  sei 
meismes.') .  This  means,  with  reference  to  the  practice  of  collecting 
alms  by  recluses,  '  It  often  produces  too  great  freedom.  Free  of  heart 

5—2 


68  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

ye  ought  to  be ;  but  a  recluse  must  not  be  free  of  any  other  thing. 
Sometimes  a  recluse  has  been  too  free  of  her  own  person.' 

P.  288,  1.  23:  '  foS  on  ase  to  winken  7  forte  leten  j?ene  ueond 
iwurSen.'  This  seems  to  come  from  the  misunderstanding  of  the 
French:  'comence  auei  come  de  cloigner  de  lesser  lenemi  couenir,' 
'  begins  also  to  incline  to  allow  the  enemy  to  come  to  terms.'  The 
word  '  cligner '  ('  cloigner ')  is  the  same  as  '  cliner '  (Lat.  '  clinare ')  and 
was  used  in  French  of  the  thirteenth  century  for  '  to  incline '  or  'to 
close  the  eyes.' 

P.  318,  1.  3 :  '  Sire  ceo  fu  fet  od  tiel  homme  •  7  nomer  donqe  •  ou 
moigne  ou  prestre  ou  clerc  •  7  de  eel  ordre  •  vne  femme  espouse  r  lede 
chose  a  femme  tiele  come  ieo  sui.'  The  English  is,  '  Sire,  hit  was  mid 
swuche  monner'  7  nemnen  ]?eonne — munuch,  preost,  o5er  clerk,  and  of 
)>et  hode,  iwedded  mon,  a  loSleas  J?ing,  a  wummon  ase  Ich  am.' 

The  French  here  (except  for  '  vne  femme  espouse '  for  '  vn  homme 
espous,'  caught  from  three  lines  above)  makes  good  sense  and  accounts 
fairly  for  the  English,  which  in  itself  is  very  unsatisfactory. 

P.  416,  1.  25 :  '  Kar  dunqe  lui  couendra  penser  del  forage  la  uache 
del  louer  le  pastour  de  querre  la  grace  de  mosser1  •  mandir  le  quant  il 
les  enparke-  7  nepurquant  rendre  les  dampnages.'  English,  'Vor 
)?eonne  mot  heo  ]?enchen  of  ]?e  kues  foddre,  and  of  heorde-monne  huire, 
oluhnen  j?ene  heiward,  warien  hwon  me  punt  hire,  .7  gelden,  J?auh,  J?e 
hermes.'  It  must  often  have  struck  readers  of  the  English  as  a 
strange  assumption  that  the  anchoress  would  be  under  the  necessity  of 
'  cursing '  the  haywarcl  for  impounding  her  cows.  The  word  *  warien  ' 
no  doubt  arises  from  a  misunderstanding  of  '  mandir '  as  *  maudire.' 
However,  the  '  n '  is  quite  plain,  and  the  word  is  perhaps  for  '  mandier ' 
(i.e.  'mendier'),  'to  entreat,'  or  'supplicate2.' 

P.  420,  1.  6  :  '  seez  od  .chaudes  kuueles.'  In  reading  the  English 
one  is  struck  by  the  awkwardness  of  the  expression  '  beoS  bi  warme 
keppen.'  The  French  of  course  means  '  sit  with  warm  head-coverings 
on,'  and  '  seez '  has  evidently  been  mistaken  for  '  seiez3.' 

Against  the  cumulative  effect  of  such  passages  as  these  there  is 
very  little  that  can  be  opposed  on  the  other  side.  It  may  be  argued 

1  The  word  'mosser'  in  the  French  is  probably,  as  M.  Paul  Meyer  suggests  to  me,  for 
'  messer,'  'messier'  (the  officer  whose  duty  it  was  to  keep  cattle  from  trespassing  on  vine- 
yards or  other  crops),  and  precisely  corresponds  to  the  English  'heiward.' 

-  It  must  be  observed,  however,  that  the  ordinary  form  'mendiant'  occurs  on  f.  67  (cf. 
p.  414,  1.  10). 

3  Actually  '  seez'  occurs  as  present  subjunctive  of  «  estre'  in  the  passage  corresponding 
to  p.  378,  1.  27 ;  but  '  soiez/  used  repeatedly  as  imperative  just  below  this,  p.  380,  11.  4,  7, 
is  the  usual  form;  and  this  was  no  doubt  earlier  represented  by  '  seiez  '  (or  '  seietz  '). 


G.    C.    MACAULAY  69 

perhaps  that  the  French  text  contains  some  words  which  would  be 
more  likely  to  occur  in  a  translation  from  English  than  in  an  original 
work.  For  example  we  find  the  words  'housewif  and  '  huswiferie ' ; 
'ele  nest  pas  housewif  (f.  67  v°),  'Recluse  qad  anmaille  resemble 
housewif  sicome  fu  Marthe '  (f.  68),  '  huswiferie  est  la  part  Marthe 
(f.  67  v°).  There  is  no  reason,  however,  why  these  words  should  not 
occur  in  Anglo-Norman  as  written  in  England.  They  have  not  hitherto 
been  recorded,  but  '  hosebaunde '  and  '  husbonderie '  are  found.  Besides 
these  we  have  'kappes'  ('chaudes  kuueles  qe  Ten  appele  kappes'  f.  68), 
a  word  which  is  here  definitely  introduced  as  English,  though  it  might 
very  well  occur  in  French,  and  near  the  same  place  '  wimple,'  which  is 
Anglo-Norman  for  '  guimple.' 

One  more  point  should  be  mentioned.  On  p.  240  of  Morton's 
edition  we  have  six  lines  of  rhyming  English  verse  in  the  long  metre 
of  the  Poema  Morale.  The  substance  of  these  is  given  in  the  French 
version  in  prose :  '  Pensiez  souent  od  dolour  de  voz  pecchez  •  pensez  de 
la  dolorouse  peine  denfer  de  les  ioies  de  ciel  •  pensez  de  vostre  mort 
demeisne  •  de  la  mort  nostre  seignour  an  la  croiz,'  etc.  The  fact  that 
the  English  version  of  this  is  in  metre  and  rhyme  may  fairly  be  taken 
to  prove  that  here  the  English  is  the  original.  I  take  it,  however,  that 
these  lines  are  not  by  the  author  of  the  Ancren  Riwle,  but  are  a 
quotation  both  in  the  French  and  the  English  versions,  that  the  French 
writer,  who  was  no  doubt  an  Englishman,  turned  them  into  French 
prose  when  he  adopted  them  for  his  purpose,  and  that  the  English 
translator,  being  familiar  with  the  original,  quoted  them  as  verse. 
Something  of  the  same  kind  probably  occurred  as  regards  the  English 
proverbial  saying  which  occurs  on  p.  96,  '  euer  is  J?e  eie  to  the  wude 
leie,'  which  appears  in  the  French  as  '  touz  iours  est  loil  aloeur  de 
bois/  but  was  naturally  given  in  English  in  its  popularly  current 
form. 

It  may  be  observed  that  the  French  text,  as  we  have  it,  contains 
four  of  the  longer  passages  which  are  found  in  the  Corpus  MS.  but  not 
in  Morton's  text,  though  some  of  these  are  rather  differently  placed. 
Other  variations  are  as  follows:  on  p.' 412,  1.  26  ff.,  the  directions  about 
meat  and  drink  are  somewhat  more  elaborate  in  the  French  than  in 
the  English  texts,  the  usages  of  the  Canons  of  St  Augustine  and  of 
the  Benedictines  being  particularly  cited :  the  play  upon  the  words 
*  eiSurles '  and  '  eityurles,'  p.  62,  1.  18,  belongs,  as  may  be  supposed,  to 
the  English  only,  and  so  also  does  the  explanation  of  the  word  '  tristre,' 
p.  333,  1.  28 :  such  an  expression  as  '  pis  is  )?et  Englisch,'  p.  272,  1.  22,  is 


70  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

represented  by  'C'est  le  francoys.'  It  may  be  noted  that  on  p.  318,  1.  7, 
where  Morton's  text  has  'eode  o5e  pleouwe  ihe  chircheie,'  but  where 
the  older  reading  is  *  Eode  o  ring  i  chirch  gard/  the  French  has  '  alai  en 
carole  en  cimitiere.'  In  general,  as  will  be  seen  later,  the  French  text 
supports  what  seem  to  be  the  original  readings,  as  opposed  to  those 
of  the  manuscript  followed  by  Morton. 

From  this  we  turn  to  the  Latin  version  represented  by  MS.  Magd. 
Coll.  Oxford,  67,  and  by  the  remains  of  MS.  Cotton,  Vitellius  E.  vii. 
This  latter  book,  as  we  have  said,  has  suffered  very  severely  by  the  fire 
and  only  a  small  portion  of  it  has  been  in  any  degree  restored.  In 
Smith's  Catalogue  (1696)  Article  6  of  this  manuscript  is  thus  described  : 
'  Regulse  vitas  Anachoretarum  utriusque  sexus  scriptse  per  Simonem  de 
Gandavo,  Episcopum  Sarum,  in  usum  sororum.'  Directly  after  this 
follows  the  title  of  the  treatise  De  Oculo.  But  the  British  Museum 
Department  of  MSS.  possesses  a  copy  of  this  early  catalogue  with  manu- 
script additions  made  before  the  fire,  from  which  we  learn  that  the 
book  consisted  altogether  of  196  leaves,  that  Art.  6  began  on  f.  61  and 
extended  to  f.  133,  where  a  new  article  began,  described  as  'Regula 
anchoretarum  ex  superiore  (ut  videtur)  extracta.'  Thus  Art.  6  of 
Smith's  Catalogue  is  given  as  consisting  of  two  separate  articles. 
What  the  extent  of  the  second  of  these  two  was  we  do  not  know, 
because  the  indication  of  the  leaf  at  which  the  next  article  begins  has 
been  cut  off  by  the  binder1.  But  this  article,  the  treatise  De  Oculo 
ascribed  to  Robert  Grosseteste,  which  concluded  the  volume,  must  have 
occupied  at  least  forty-five  leaves  of  the  manuscript,  and  therefore 
cannot  have  begun  much  later  than  f.  150.  It  seems  pretty  certain 
from  the  remains  which  exist,  that  the  article  which  extended  from 
f.  61  to  f.  133  was  the  Latin  version  of  the  Ancren  Riwle,  and  the 
shorter  treatise  which  followed  it  was  one  written  for  anchorites  of  the 
male  sex,  and  independent  of  the  other,  not  extracted  from  it,  as 
suggested  in  the  manuscript  additions  to  the  catalogue.  Altogether 
of  these  two  treatises  thirty -nine  leaves  are  represented  in  the  existing 
volume,  numbered  at  present  ff.  13 — 25  and  27 — 53 2.  The  last  five 
leaves,  ff.  49 — 53,  do  not  belong  to  the  Ancren  Riwle,  but  no  doubt 
to  the  treatise  which  followed  it.  We  have  therefore  portions  of 
thirty-four  leaves  of  the  Ancren  Riwle  in  its  Latin  version,  some  fairly 

1  For  information  with  regard  to  these  manuscript  additions  to  the  catalogue  I  am 
indebted  to  Mr  J.  P.  Gilson,  Keeper  of  the  Manuscripts. 

2  f.  26  has  been  placed  among  these  by  mistake,  being  a  leaf  of  the  treatise  De  Oculo, 
while  ff.  33,  34  are  two  portions  of  the  same  original  leaf. 


G.    C.    MACAULAY  71 

well  preserved,  others  mere  fragments,  in  which  it  is  difficult  to  make 
out  more  than  a  few  consecutive  words,  and  at  present  these  leaves  are 
very  far  from  being  arranged  in  the  proper  order,  though  here  and 
there  we  find  several  consecutive1.  The  Latin  version  which  we  have 
here  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  Magdalen  College  manuscript,  with  one 
important  difference.  The  Magdalen  MS.  omits  the  eighth  part,  dealing 
with  '  the  External  Rule '  (or  with  '  Domestic  Matters '  as  it  is  headed 
by  Morton),  but  the  Cotton  MS.  contained  this,  and  considerable  portions 
of  it  are  preserved  on  ff.  45 — 48,  which  correspond  roughly  to  pp.  408, 
20 — 426,  14  of  Morton's  edition.  The  Cotton  MS.  seems  to  be  of  the 
former  half  of  the  fourteenth  century,  while  the  Magdalen  College  book 
can  hardly  have  been  written  much  earlier  than  1400.  It  may  be* 
assumed  that  Smith  found  at  the  beginning  of  it  the  ascription  of 
authorship  to  Simon  of  Ghent  which  he  cites  in  his  catalogue.  The 
same  ascription  occurs,  as  is  well  known,  in  the  Magdalen  manuscript. 

It  seems  still  to  be  considered  possible  in  some  quarters  that  this 
Latin  version  is  the  original,  and  that  the  English  Ancren  Riwle  was 
derived  from  it2.  The  argument  to  that  effect  by  E.  E.  Bramlette,  in 
Anglia,  vol.  XV,  pp.  478 — 498,  deserves  attention,  because  it  is  evidently 
founded  upon  a  careful  study  of  the  Magdalen  College  manuscript,  or 
rather  of  the  copy  of  it  furnished  to  him  by  Kolbing.  We  cannot, 
however,  accept  his  conclusions.  He  has  succeeded  in  invalidating  a 
few  of  Morton's  arguments,  but  he  is  far  from  having  established,  or 
even  rendered  probable,  the  thesis  which  he  maintains.  As,  however, 
he  is  the  only  upholder  of  that  view  whose  arguments  are  worth  much 
attention,  I  think  it  right  to  deal  with  his  points  seriatim. 

First  as  to  his  criticism  of  Morton.  (1)  He  is  right  in  saying  that 
we  cannot  draw  conclusions  from  the  use  of  'Rykelotam'  or  'kykelotam' 
in  the  Latin  text3,  until  we  know  something  more  of  the  history  and 
meaning  of  the  word.  His  own  theory  about  it  is  very  improbable. 
(2)  It  is  perhaps  true  that  'kagya'  might  have  been  used  for 'cage' 
without  the  influence  of  the  English.  (3)  It  is  probable  that  '  tale '  on 
p.  226,  1.  14,  does  mean  'narratio'  and  not  'numerus' ;  and  (4)  it  seems 
likely  'herboruwe/p.  340,1. 12,  really  corresponds  to  the  Latin  'herbarium,' 

1  I  have  succeeded  in  identifying  all  the  leaves  except  f.  13,  which  is  a  very  small 
fragment,  with  no  very  significant  words  legible. 

2  Wanley  threw  out  the  idea,  probably  on  a  rather  cursory  inspection  of  the  Cotton  MS. 
No  doubt,  on  ascertaining  that  the  Latin  and  the  English  corresponded  generally  to  each 
other,  he  assumed  without  further  investigation  that  the  Latin  was  the  original. 

3  It  is  uncertain  whicli  of  these  forms  we  actually  have,  for  the  'E'  and  the  'k'  of  the 
scribe  are  not  distinguishable  with  certainty.     Probably  it  is  'Bykelotam,'  because  the 
English  MSS.  for  the  most  part  have  'rykelot,'  which  is  no  doubt  the  true  reading.     The 
French  text  has  '  rigelot.' 


72  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

by  confusion  of  form.  Finally  (5)  it  is  clear  that  the  reading  '  sum  of 
hore '  (for  '  sum  of  ham '),  p.  222,  1.  31,  cannot  here  be  sustained.  The 
true  reading  is  'sum  hore1.'  But  beyond  this  Bramlette  scores  nothing 
with  any  certainty  against  his  opponent.  The  most  important  points 
remain  practically  untouched.  The  quotation  in  English  of  the  proverb 
*  Euere  is  the  y}e  to  )?e  wode  Iy3he'  (p.  96);  the  use  of  the  English  word 
'  hagges '  (p.  216),  to  which  may  be  added  '  packes '  (p.  168)  ;  the  corre- 
spondence of  '  uoraci '  to  '  urakele '  (p.  204),  of  '  audire  '  to  '  vren ' 
(p.  286),  and  of  '  corpus '  to  '  bode,'  which  seems  to  be  the  true  reading 
of  the  English  text  (p.  400),  are  all  strongly  in  favour  of  the  view  that 
we  have  here  a  Latin  translation  from  the  English  and  not  the  reverse ; 
and  Bramlette's  suggestion  to  account  for  some  of  these,  as  well  as  for 
other  difficulties,  viz.  that  the  Latin  text  which  we  have  has  freely 
incorporated  glosses  written  in  the  margin  of  an  earlier  manuscript,  is 
extremely  improbable.  We  shall  not  easily  find  Latin  manuscripts  of 
the  thirteenth  or  fourteenth  century  with  English  glosses,  and  the 
Magdalen  MS.,  though  it  has  mistakes,  certainly  does  not  suggest  the 
idea  of  being  carelessly  written  or  grossly  corrupt.  The  text  corresponds 
closely  with  that  of  the  earlier  Cotton  MS.,  so  far  as  we  are  able  to 
compare  them,  and  we  must  assume  that  it  fairly  represents  the  original, 
except  as  regards  the  avowed  omission  of  the  eighth  part. 

As  regards  the  saying  '  Euere  is  the  y}e '  etc.,  Bramlette  says  it  is 
quoted  in  English  because  it  is  a  proverb.  He  does  not  seem  to  realise 
how  very  unusual  it  is  to  find  proverbs  quoted  in  English  in  an  original 
Latin  book  of  that  period.  Incidentally  it  may  be  observed  that  his 
explanation  of  the  expression  '  wode  ly}he '  is  quite  an  impossible  one2. 

The  word  'hagges'  (represented  by  '  heggen '  in  Morton's  text)  might 
well  be  found  difficult  by  a  Latin  translator.  Instead  of  being,  as 
Bramlette  says,  '  too  common  a  word  not  to  have  been  understood  by 
every  one '  it  was  in  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries  very 
unusual.  This  place  is  in  fact  the  only  instance  which  has  been  found 
of  its  occurrence  in  the  English  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and  there 
seems  to  be  only  one  example  of  it  known  in  the  fourteenth ;  moreover, 
its  exact  meaning  in  these  early  instances  is  uncertain.  The  French 

1  The  French  text  however  has  no  equivalent  of  the  clause,  but  after  'houswif  de  sale  • ' 
proceeds  « quide  qele  bien  face  sicome  fols '  etc.     The  scribe  of  the  Pepys  MS.  evidently 
felt  that  there  was  some  awkwardness  in  the  introduction  of  the  '  meretrix '  idea,  and 
endeavours  to  explain  it  by  an  antithesis  between  '  the  devil's  whore '  and  '  the  spouse  of 
Christ.'     I  am  disposed  to  think  that  'sum  hore'  means  after  all  'one  of  them.' 

2  In  the  case  of  another  English  saying  quoted  the  text  is  hopelessly  corrupt,   viz. 
p.  62,  1.  18,  '  in  anglico  bene  dicitur  •   Ey3e  et  herdes  •   id  est  scheuen  •   quia  multum  id 
est  multum  dampnum  multis  fecerunt.'     All  that  we  can  say  is  that  Bramlette's  explana- 
tion must  certainly  be  wrong. 


G.    C.    MACAULAY  73 

here  has  '  eels  seet  estries,'  but  a  Latin  translator  of  the  English  might 
well  hesitate. 

In  the  passage  on  p.  204,  where  we  have  in  the  English  '  et  tisse 
urakele  worlde '  and  in  the  Latin  '  a  uoraci  mundo,'  it  is  clear  that 
'urakele'  (i.e.  'frakele')  meaning  'dangerous'  or  'treacherous'  gives 
the  meaning  that  we  want,  and  that  '  uoraci '  is  quite  beside  the  mark. 
Again  on  p.  286  *  uren '  ('  vren ')  supplies  the  meaning  required,  and 
connects  both  with  what  goes  before  and  with  what  follows,  '  Redunge 
is  god  bone,'  '  Leccio  est  bona  oracio.'  It  is  probable  indeed  that  this  is 
not  a  case  of  misunderstanding,  but  thus  the  Latin  translator,  scandalised 
*by  the  recommendation  to  pray  less  and  read  more,  which  is  contrary 
to  the  usual  teaching,  but  quite  in  harmony  with  the  sound  common 
sense  of  the  Ancren  Riwle,  deliberately  wrote  'audire'  rather  than 
'  orare.'  Brarnlette's  suggestions  as  to  the  word  '  vren '  in  the  English 
text  are  quite  inadmissible.  The  '  uri '  of  the  Corpus  and  Cleopatra  MSS. 
and  the  '  preyen '  of  the  Vernon  text  shew  quite  clearly  what  the  word 
is  with  which  we  have  to  do. 

The  correspondence  of  '  bode '  and  '  corpus '  (p.  400)  depends  upon 
variation  of  text  in  the  English  manuscripts.  The  question,  however,  is 
not  at  all  of  the  '  body '  of  the  lover,  but  of  his  '  offer,'  as  anyone  must 
see  who  reads  the  passage ;  and  the  reading  '  bode '  given  in  the  Nero 
MS.  is  probably  the  true  one,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  rest  agree  in 

*  bodi.'     The  reading  of  the  French  text  appears  to  be  '  encontre  mon 
ofre.' 

The  positive  evidence  which  Bramlette  adduces  as  favouring 
Wanley's  view  does  not  in  fact  help  it  much.  He  notes  especially 
the  following :  (1)  P.  2,  1.  22,  '  isti  dicuntur  boni  autonomatice,'  where 
the  Magdalen  MS.  has  '  Isti  dicuntur  boni  anachorite.'  Here  the  true 
reading  is  almost  undoubtedly  '  antonomasice '  (the  Corpus  MS.  has 

*  antomasice ')  meaning  '  per  antonomasiam,'  i.e.  by  substitution  of  this 
for  their  true  name.    The  reading  '  anachorite '  is  a  senseless  corruption. 
(2)  P.  8,  1.  22,  'J?e  isihS  J?ene  gnet  7  swoluweS  )?e  vlige/  where  the  Latin 
has  '  colantes  culicem  et  tamen  glutientes  camelum.'     Here  the  sober 
sense  of  the  author  was  unable  to  accept  the  oriental  hyperbole,  and 
changed  the  saying  into  what  seemed  a  more  reasonable  form,  suggesting 
the  idea  of  straining  the  midges  out  of  the  drink,  but  swallowing  the 
much  larger  flies.      On  the  other  hand  the  Latin  translator,  who  is 
always  particular  about  the  fulness  and  accuracy  of  quotations,  naturally 
returns  to  the  camel,  and  adds  the  Biblical  reference.     The  originality 
lies  with  the  English  (or  French)  author,  and   is   not   in   the    least 


74  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

suggestive  of  a  translation.  (3)  P.  64,  11.  15—20.  The  difficulty  is 
solved  by  the  punctuation  of  the  Corpus  manuscript  (which  is  also 
that  of  all  the  rest  except  Morton's),  'mid  godes  dred.  To  preost 
on  earst  Confiteor,'  etc.  It  is  evident  that  two  kinds  of  visitors 
are  thought  of,  and  that  the  whole  of  the  latter  part  of  the 
passage  refers  to  an  interview  with  a  spiritual  adviser.  (4)  P.  66, 
11.  9 — 15,  the  word  'coue'  (or  'kaue')  is  to  be  accounted  for  in  a 
different  manner,  as  we  have  seen.  (5)  P.  70,  11.  12 — 15,  the  Latin 
version  only  shews  that  the  translator  was  acquainted  with  the  original 
passage  of  Anselm,  which  we  should  expect  from  what  we  know  of  him 
otherwise.  (6)  P.  72,  1.  8,  Bramlette  assumes  that  the  abbreviation- 
used  here  stands  for  'senteneie':  it  might  just  as  well  be  for  'Seneca1/ 
and  he  neglects  the  stop  after  the  word.  As  to  the  saying  not  being 
found  in  Seneca's  writings,  that  is  the  case  with  a  very  large  number  of 
the  sayings  which  were  fathered  upon  him.  (7)  P.  124,  1.  13,  the  word 
'  aerem '  in  the  Latin  is  right,  and  the  best  manuscripts  of  the  English 
text  have  'eir.'  (8)  P.  140, 11.  7 — 9.  No  argument  can  be  founded  on  this 
passage,  so  far  as  I  can  see.  (9)  P.  232, 1.  16,  'fastigia'  is  right,  no  doubt ; 
but  it  is  also  the  reading  of  the  best  English  manuscripts.  (10)  P.  234, 
1.  2,  Bramlette  says  that  '  he  sei$ '  in  this  position  is  unintelligible. 
The  only  fault  is  in  the  punctuation :  '  The  third  reason  why  thou 
shouldest  not  be  quite  secure  is,  he  saith,  because  security  produces 
carelessness/  This  use  of  'vor'  is  quite  established.  The  person 
referred  to  is,  no  doubt,  St  Augustine,  who  has  been  quoted  just  above 
in  support  of  the  second  reason.  The  author  of  the  Latin  version 
characteristically  supplies  a  reference,  though  not  one  by  which  this 
latter  passage  can  easily  be  found2.  (11)  From  the  passage  quoted 
under  this  head  no  inference  can  be  drawn.  (12)  P.  254,  1.  21,  ']?e 
brune  of  golnesse,'  represented  in  the  Latin  by  '  flam  ma  odii.'  Hatred, 
no  doubt,  is  the  main  subject,  and  is  typified  by  Samson's  foxes,  which 
had  their  tails  tied  together  and  their  heads  averse,  but  the  fire-brand 
at  the  tail  has  an  additional  significance,  which  the  Latin  fails  to  bring 
out.  (13)  P.  290,  1.  24,  the  expression  used  in  the  Latin  'in  ara  crucis' 
was,  as  Bramlette  shews,  an  established  one,  and  may  well  have  been 
used  by  a  learned  translator,  though  it  did  not  occur  in  the  text  which 
he  was  translating.  (14)  P.  296,  1.  13,  '  pe  sparke  J?et  wint  up/  corre- 

1  It  is  not  quite  the  regular  abbreviation  of  either,  but  would  be  understood  by  the 
context.     The  French  text  has  written  in  full,  '  Seneca.     Ad  summam  volo,'  etc. 

2  He  says  '  sicut  dicitur  in  glosa  epistole  ad  rom.'     He  has  just  above  given  us  a 
reference  to  Augustine  '  in  glosa  i  ad  Cor.  8,'  which  proves  to  be  a  comment  on  that  text 
in  the  treatise  De  Trinitate. 


G.    C.    MACAULAY  75 

spending  to  '  Sintilla  que  accendit.'  The  idea  in  the  English  text  is  of 
a  spark  going  up  the  chimney  and  alighting  on  the  thatch,  which  for  a 
time  smoulders,  and  then  breaks  into  flame.  The  Latin  expression 
gives  good  enough  sense,  but  'accendit'  is  probably  for  'ascendit,'  a 
common  confusion,  as  Bramlette  shews1. 

The  rest  of  the  argument  depends  upon  comparison  of  the  two  texts 
with  a  view  to  passages  omitted  or  inserted.  Passages  are  found  in 
the  Latin  which  are  not  in  the  English  text  as  edited  by  Morton. 
A  good  many  of  these  are  simply  citations  from  the  Bible  or  the 
Fathers,  which  the  author  of  the  Latin  text  was  apt  to  supply  when 
he  saw  an  opportunity :  many  of  them,  however,  are  to  be  found  in 
other  texts  of  the  English  Ancren  Riwle.  As  regards  passages  which' 
are  not  purely  of  this  character,  some  of  the  most  important  are  found 
in  other  English  texts,  especially  the  Corpus  MS.  This  is  the  case, 
for  example,  with  that  which  Bramlette  quotes  in  full  as  the  longest 
(coming  after  p.  198,  1.  30) ;  and  also  with  those  referred  to  as 
occurring  at  p.  96,  1.  20 ;  p.  98,  11.  9,  16,  17 ;  p.  200,  1.  22 ;  p.  202,  1.  2 ; 
p.  284,  1.  17.  In  other  cases,  as  p.  96,  1.  1,  the  argument  is  confused 
or  destroyed  by  the  introduction  of  irrelevant  quotations  in  the  Latin 
version.  It  must  be  observed  that  in  several  cases  Bramlette  counts 
his  passages  twice,  under  the  head  of  citations,  and  also  as  independent 
portions  of  the  text,  e.g.  p.  118,  1.  20,  where  the  passage  of  forty  words 
which  he  notes  as  original  is  entirely  composed  of  quotation;  and 
much  the  same  is  true  of  p.  302,  1.  14,  where  the  Latin  version  has 
a  reference  to  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son  in  place  of  the  rather 
obscure  allegory  of  Jacob  and  Judah  in  the  English  text,  and  of  p.  324, 
1.  8,  where  the  Latin  version  quotes  in  illustration  two  hexameter  verses 
of  common  occurrence,  '  Crux,  aqua,  confiteor,'  etc.  This  disposes  of 
nearly  all  the  passages  mentioned  by  Bramlette,  except  the  first  two, 
one  at  p.  34,  1.  12,  where  in  place  of  an  omission  of  many  pages  a  few 
reflections  are  put  in  about  attendance  at  public  worship,  with  con- 
ventional references  to  the  Pharisee  and  the  Publican  and  Noah's  raven 
and  dove;  and  the  other  at  p.  82,  1.  17,  where  we  have  a  passage  of 


VIZ 

wule 

thou  shalt  smart  for  his  sin.  A'dog  will  readily  enter,'  etc.  The  Latin  has  '  pro  alterius 
crimine  punietur,' leaving  out  'ase  mon  sei'5,  }>u  schalt  acorien  \>e  rode,  f  is,'  and  for 
a  very  simple  reason  probably,  viz.  because  these  were  not  contained  in  the  English 
text  which  he  had  before  him.  They  occur,  in  fact,  so  far  as  I  know,  only  in  the  Nero  MS. 
The  translator  then  introduces  the  succeeding  proverb  with  the  words  '  vulgariter  dicitur,' 
which  is  a  very  natural  insertion.  There  is  no  question  therefore  of  the  transference  of 
'  ase  mon  seift '  or  its  equivalent  from  one  clause  to  another. 


76  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

sixteen  lines  about  Christ  and  Antichrist,  truth  and  falsehood,  of  which 
I  do  not  know  the  origin,  but  which  is  sufficiently  commonplace  in 
idea.  On  the  whole  the  passages  in  the  Latin  which  do  not  appear  in 
the  existing  English  manuscripts  are  such  as  a  translator  with  a  taste 
for  quotation  might  naturally  add  to  his  text. 

The  case  is  very  different  with  the  passages  which  are  found  in  the 
English  but  not  in  the  Latin.  Setting  aside  the  absence  of  the  eighth 
part  in  the  Magdalen  MS.,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  is  due  to  a  scribe, 
we  have  the  almost  total  suppression  of  the  first  part,  which  must  have 
occurred  in  the  Cotton  MS.  also1.  This  part,  which  occupies  more  than 
sixteen  pages  in  Morton's  edition  (pp.  14 — 48,  even  numbers  only),  is 
reduced  to  two  pages  of  the  manuscript,  the  pages  of  which  contain 
somewhat  more  than  those  of  the  Camden  Society  book.  It  is  obvious 
that  this  disproportionate  brevity  cannot  have  been  intended  by  the 
original  writer,  though  from  the  nature  of  the  contents  of  the  first 
part  it  is  easily  intelligible  that  a  translator  should  omit  or  abbreviate 
it.  Then  secondly,  most  of  the  passages  are  wanting  in  the  Latin  which 
contain  personal  references  to  the  sisters,  as  p.  2,  1.  10 ;  p.  4, 1.  14 ;  p.  48, 
11.  2—4 ;  p.  50, 11.  20—24 ;  p.  84,  11.  22—25 ;  p.  114,  11.  24—116 ;  p.  116, 
11.  2—10;  p.  192,  11.  11—27;  p.  216,  1.  24;  p.  286,  11.  26—29;  p.  288, 
1.  3  ;  p.  308, 11.  14—16.  Of  these  passages  one,  that  on  p.  192,  is  absent 
from  most  of  the  English  manuscripts ;  but  in  the  other  cases  we  seem 
to  see  a  systematic  attempt  to  get  rid  of  the  personal  character  of 
the  address2 ;  and  this  is  accompanied  by  another  difference  of  some 
importance  between  the  two  texts.  Whereas  the  English  Ancren 
Riwle  is  addressed  exclusively  to  women,  the  Latin  endeavours,  rather 
awkwardly,  to  adapt  itself  to  men  also  :  e.g.  (p.  64), '  Cum  ad  loquitorium 
accedit  religiosus  vel  religiosa  etc....fiunt  magistri  eorum  quorum  de- 
berent  esse  discipuli.  Cum  enirn  recesserit  is  qui  venit  dicit  iste  vel 
ista  uerbosus  vel  uerbosa.'  An  absurd  instance  is  p.  6,  1.  14,  where  we 
have  'quidam  senes  et  turpes  de  quorum  casu  minus  timetur.'  This 
attempt  is  not  consistently  carried  through,  and  for  the  most  part  the 
Latin,  like  the  English,  has  to  do  with  anchorites  of  the  female  sex  ; 
but  so  far  as  this  principle  is  departed  from,  it  is  clear  that  there  is  an 

1  In  MS.  Vitellius  E.  vii  the  Latin  version  of  the  Ancren  Riwle  occupied  seventy-three 
leaves,  of  which  thirty-four  are  represented  in  the  existing  remains.     By  a  simple  calcula- 
tion founded  upon  the  contents  of  these  leaves  we  find  that  the  text  of  the  first  seven 
parts  cannot  have  been  materially  longer  than  that  of  the  Magdalen  MS.,  and  hence  it  is 
practically  certain  that  the  first  part  was  similarly  treated  in  this  copy. 

2  It  is  not  the  case,  as  Bramlette  suggests,  that  the  personal  remarks  in  the  English 
version  interfere  with  the  connection  and  sequence  of  ideas,  and  so  prove  themselves  to 
be  additions. 


G.    C.    MACAU  LAY  77 

interference  with  the  original  purpose.  Finally,  the  style  of  the  Latin 
version  throughout  is  far  more  concise  than  that  of  the  English,  and 
often  expresses  with  a  dry  scholastic  brevity  what  is  in  the  English 
more  fully  and  agreeably  set  forth.  There  is  for  the  most  part  a  want 
of  those  amenities  of  style  by  which  the  Ancren  Riwle  in  English  and  in 
French  is  happily  distinguished,  and  humorous  or  characteristic  touches 
are  usually  omitted.  It  would  be  strange  indeed  if  a  translator  from 
the  Latin  in  the  thirteenth  century  had  shewn  so  much  independence 
and  effected  so  great  an  improvement  in  his  text  as  we  should  have  to 
acknowledge  here,  if  we  supposed  the  Latin  version  of  the  Cotton  and 
Magdalen  manuscripts  to  have  been  the  original  either  of  the  English 
or  of  the  French  text. 

If  it  be  concluded  that  the  Latin  is  in  fact  a  translation  from  the 
English,  we  may  obtain  confirmation  of  this  view  from  many  passages 
besides  those  cited  by  Morton :  e.g.  p.  94,  1.  14,  '  quarto  propter  ampli- 
orem  mercedem  eternam.  Sic  enim  disposuit  deus,'  etc.,  the  connexion 
being  entirely  destroyed;  p.  96,  1.  19,  'pro  morte  sustinenda  nollem 
feditatem  aliquam  cogitare  erga  te,'  which  surely  no  one  would  have 
written  who  had  not  the  English  '  uor  te  ]?olien  deaSe '  before  him  :  in 
the  passage  added  after  p.  198,  '  Maledicta  et  amens  res-  os  tale 
magis  fetet  coram  deo,'  etc.,  where  the  English  (Corpus  MS.)  is  '  Me 
Binges  amansede  nuten  ha  "p  hare  song  ant  hare  bonen  to  godd 
stinkeS  fulre,'  etc.  p.  212,  1.  16  '  est  protector  cultellorum'  for  'is  his 
knifworpare.'  Such  variations  as  these,  and  the  text  is  full  of  them, 
are  more  probably  explained  by  supposing  translation  from  the  English 
with  partial  misunderstanding  than  in  any  other  way ;  and  the  literal 
reproductions  of  passages  such  as  we  have  on  p.  318,  1.  5,  where  the 
English  text  is  unsatisfactory,  points  in  the  same  direction.  Moreover 
it  is  to  be  noted  that  the  variations  of  the  English  manuscripts,  when 
they  are  closely  studied,  are  found  to  cast  additional  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  the  theory  of  a  Latin  original.  Mtihe,  for  example,  though  a 
supporter  of  this  theory,  is  driven  by  his  examination  of  the  Titus  MS. 
to  the  most  improbably  complicated  suggestions1. 

Finally,  those  who  uphold  this  theory  have  to  deal  with  the  fact 
that  the  Latin  version  which  we  possess  is  definitely  associated  with 
the  name  of  Simon  of  Ghent,  bishop  of  Salisbury,  who  died  in  13 15. 
The  attribution  of  authorship  is  not  a  mere  casual  one.  It  occurs  as  a 
rubric  at  the  beginning  of  the  text  of  the  Magdalen  MS.,  and  was  no 

1  In  his  dissertation  Uber  den  im  MS.  Cotton,  Titus  D.  xvin  enthaltenm  Text  des 
«  Ancren  Riwle,'  Gottingen,  1901. 


78  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

doubt  found  in  the  original  from  which  this  manuscript  was  derived. 
'  Hie  incipit  prohemium  venerabilis  patris  magistri  Simonis  de  Gandauo, 
episcopi  Sarum,  in  librum  de  vita  solitaria,  quern  scripsit  sororibus 
suis  Anachoritis  apud  Tarente.'  This  ascribes  authorship  of  the  Latin 
book  to  one  who  lived  too  late  to  have  been  the  author  of  the  English ; 
and  we  must  suppose  that  he  was  at  least  responsible  for  this  Latin 
version,  here  treated  as  an  original  book.  It  should  be  noted  that  the 
theory  of  the  connexion  of  the  Ancren  Riwle  with  '  Tarente '  depends 
entirely  on  this  statement,  and  such  a  connexion  must  hot  be  assumed 
with  regard  either  to  the  English  or  the  French  texts.  We  know 
nothing  of  the  family  of  Simon  of  Ghent,  but  it  may  be  supposed  that 
English  was  not  the  native  language  of  his  sisters,  and  they  may  well 
have  understood  Latin  better.  The  partial  adaptation  of  the  book  to 
the  use  of  anchorites  of  the  male  sex  also,  was  no  doubt  owing  to  a 
desire  to  make  it  more  generally  useful1. 


CAMBRIDGE. 


(To  be  continued.) 

G.  C.  MACAULAY. 


1  In  declining  the  suggestion  that  the  Ancren  Riwle  was  originally  written  in  Latin, 
we  must  not,  of  course,  fail  to  note  its  obligations  to  earlier  Latin  books  dealing  with  the 
same  subjects,  as  for  example  the  Exhortatio  ad  Virginem  deo  dedicatam  by  S.  Caesarius, 
and  especially  Aelred's  'Epistola  ad  sororem  inclusam,'  which  in  fact  is  once  referred  to 
by  name  in  the  Ancren  Riwle  (p.  368),  and  from  which  several  particular  precepts  seem 
to  be  derived,  as  the  warnings  against  the  possession  of  cattle,  against  large  hospitality 
and  almsgiving,  and  against  keeping  a  school,  the  suggestion  of  caution  in  choosing  an 
elderly  and  thoroughly  trustworthy  confessor,  and  some  of  the  precepts  about  dress  and 
adornment.  The  parts  that  deal  with  sins,  confession  and  penitence  naturally  have 
something  in  common  with  other  treatises  on  the  same  subjects ;  and  the  morals  drawn 
from  the  supposed  nature  of  the  ostrich,  the  pelican  and  the  night-raven  are,  more  or  less, 
the  common  property  of  medieval  writers :  see  especially  the  treatise  De  Bestiis  (Lib.  i), 
printed  in  Migne's  Patrologia,  vol.  CLXXVII. 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  'LUDUS  COVENTBIAE.' 

THE  cycle  of  plays  known  as  the  '  Ludus  Coventriae  '  exists  in  a 
single  MS.  (British  Museum  Cotton  MS.  Vespasian  D.  viii)  which  bears 
the  following  notes  : 

(1)  The  date  1468. 

(2)  At  the  beginning  the  signature  '  Robert  Hegge,  Dunelmensis,' 
and  before  the  29th  play  '  Ego  KH.  Dunelmensis,  Possideo  :  Ov 


(3)  On   the   fly-leaf  in   an   Elizabethan   hand  'The   plaie  called 
Corpus  Christi.' 

(4)  On  the  fly-leaf  in  the  hand  of  Richard  James,  Sir  Robert 
Cotton's  librarian  c.  1630:  '  Contenta  Novi  Testamenti  scenice  expressa 
et  actitata  olim  per  rnonachos  sive  fratres  mendicantes  :  vulgo  dicitur 
hie  liber  "Ludus   Coventriae,"  sive  ludus  Corporis  Christi:    scribitur 
nietris  Anglicanis.' 

The  fourth  note  is  the  only  evidence  upon  which  the  name  usually 
given  to  the  manuscript  is  founded,  and  at  the  one  point  upon  which 
James's  evidence  can  be  tested,  he  breaks  down.  He  says  that  the 
contents  are  from  the  New  Testament.  This  shows  that  he  had  not 
read  or  even  examined  the  manuscript,  as  the  first  seven  plays  are 
founded  upon  the  Old  Testament  ;  then  follow  two  plays  on  apocryphal 
gospels,  while  the  tenth  opens  with  a  medieval  allegory.  It  is  not  until 
half-way  through  the  tenth  play  that  the  New  Testament  is  at  last 
reached.  James's  evidence  therefore  is  by  no  means  satisfactory.  He 
apparently  knew  and  cared  nothing  about  the  contents  of  the  manuscript, 
and  the  form  that  his  blunder  takes  suggests  that  he  was  equally  careless 
of  its  history,  for  his  mistake  can  be  traced  to  a  probable  source. 

The  Coventry  Corpus  Christi  cycle  was  exceptional  in  that  it 
consisted  only  of  New  Testament  plays.  It  survived  later  than  most 
of  the  other  mystery  cycles  ;  and  plays,  though  perhaps  not  the  old 
ones,  were  still  performed  at  Coventry  as  late  as  16061.  In  1630  some 
memory  of  these  plays  probably  survived  in  literary  circles,  as  curiosities 

1  Chambers,  The  Mediceval  Stage,  n,  362. 


80  The  Problem  of  the  'Ludus  Coventriae' 

of  the  old  popish  days,  when  there  were  still  monks  and  friars  in  the 
country,  and  James,  stumbling  upon  a  volume  of  plays  which  evidently 
belonged  to  those  times,  may  have  jumbled  up  all  these  fragmentary 
ideas  into  his  note.  Probably  he  did  not  know  that  Corpus  Christi 
plays  were  acted  at  other  places  besides  Coventry. 

James's  error  might  have  been  detected  long  ago,  but  for  a  very 
curious  coincidence.  Dugdale,  when  writing  his  History  of  Warwick- 
shire, examined  the  manuscript  of  the  '  Ludus  Coventriae.'  In  a  rather 
late  compilation  of  the  annals  of  Coventry  he  found  a  note  that  in  1493 
the  King  '  came  to  se  the  playes  acted  by  the  Gray  Freirs.'  Another 
version  of  the  annals  states  that  the  King  came  to  see  the  plays  '  at  the 
Grey  Friars/  and  it  seems  probable  that  '  by '  in  the  first  quotation  is 
equivalent  to  '  beside.'  Unfortunately  Dugdale  was  misled  by  James's 
note,  and  imagined  that  the  plays  were  acted  by  the  Grey  Friars  in 
person1. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  go  into  the  ingenious  conjectures  to  which 
this  blunder  has  given  rise.  The  idea  that  the  plays  were  performed 
by  the  Grey  Friars  of  Coventry  has  now  been  abandoned  by  most 
authorities,  and  the  present  theory  is  that  the  cycle  was  performed  by 
strolling  players,  and  did  not  belong  to  any  one  town.  Yet  there  are 
difficulties  in  this  hypothesis.  All  the  available  evidence  goes  to  show 
that  the  strollers  performed  single  plays,  which  lasted  not  more  than 
two  or  three  hours.  The  companies  also  seem  to  have  been  small,  con- 
taining as  a  rule  about  half  a  dozen  players.  The  '  Ludus  Coventriae  ' 
is  so  long  that  it  would  take  nearly  a  week  to  act  (see  below).  The 
scenes  often  require  a  great  many  characters,  and  extra  persons  are 
sometimes  introduced  quite  unnecessarily,  as  for  instance  the  priests 
and  handmaidens  who  wait  on  Mary  in  the  Temple.  It  is  true  that 
the  whole  easily  splits  up  into  separate  plays,  but  it  seems  to  have  been 
arranged  deliberately,  if  clumsily,  as  a  cycle.  The  purpose  for  which 
this  was  done  is  undiscovered. 

The  manuscript  of  the  '  Ludus  Coventriae '  opens  with  a  Prologue 
spoken  by  three  Vexillators  or  standard-bearers,  who  announce  the 
order  of  the  pageants  which  are  to  follow.  Every  commentator  upon 
the  text  has  noticed  that  the  pageants  promised  in  the  Prologue  do  not 
exactly  correspond  with  those  given  in  the  text,  but  no  complete  com- 
parison of  the  two  lists  has  yet  been  made ;  in  fact,  the  only  modern 
editor  of  the  manuscript,  Halliwell-Phillipps,  expressly  stated  in  his 
edition  of  it  for  the  Shakespeare  Society  that  'in  the  order  of  the 
1  Craig,  The  Coventry  Corpus  Christi  P/ai/s,  E.E.T.S.,  p.  xxii. 


MADELEINE    HOPE    DODDS 


81 


pageants,  I  have  not  regarded  the  speeches  of  the  vexillators.'  Very 
interesting  results,  however,  are  to  be  obtained  from  a  point-for-point 
comparison  such  as  is  given  in  the  table  below.  Halliwell-Phillipps's 
numbering  is  noted  for  the  sake  of  reference,  but  the  plays  of  the  text 
have  been  re-divided  in  order  to  make  them  correspond  as  closely  as 
possible  to  the  Prologue.  The  differences  between  the  two,  which  are 
in  italics,  are  therefore  only  those  which  are  absolutely  irreconcilable. 


PROLOGUE. 
Introductory  stanza,  spoken  by  1st  Vex. 

1st  pageant.     One  stanza  by  2nd  Vex. 
The  Creation  of  Heaven,  the  Fall  of 
Lucifer. 


TEXT. 


1st  play  [H.-P.  i  to  end  of  st.  9].  The 
Creation  of  Heaven,  the  Fall  of  Lucifer, 
the  Creation  of  Earth.  [The  Five  Days 
of  Creation  cannot  be  divided  from  th# 
Fall  of  Lucifer  without  breaking  a  stanza 
in  two.] 

2nd  play  [H.-P.  i  last  3  st.  and  ii]. 
The  Day  of  Rest,  the  Temptation  and 
Fall  of  Man. 

3rd  play  [H.-P.  in].     Cain  and  Abel. 

4th  play  [H.-P.  iv].  The  Building  of 
the  Ark,  the  Death  of  Cain,  the  Flood. 


5th  play   [H.-P. 
Isaac. 


v].      Abraham   and 


6th  play  [H.-P.  vi]. 
Two  Tables  of  the  Law. 


Moses  and  the 


7th  play  [H.-P.  vn].     The  Prophets. 


2nd  pag.     Two  st.  by  3rd  Vex. 
The  Six  Days  of  Creation,  the  Tempta- 
tion and  Fall  of  Man. 

3rd  pag.     One  st.  by  1st  Vex. 
Cain  and  Abel. 

4th  pag.     One  st.  by  2nd  Vex. 
The  Building  of  the  Ark,  the  Flood. 

5th  pag.     One  st.  by  3rd  Vex. 
Abraham  and  Isaac. 

6th  pag.     One  st.  by  1st  Vex. 

Moses  and  the  Two  Tables  of  the  Law. 

7th  pag.     One  st.  by  2nd  Vex. 
The  Prophets. 

These  seven  plays  are  all  in  the  same  style;  they  are  short  and 
straightforward,  keeping  strictly  to  the  Bible  narrative,  except  for  the 
Fall  of  the  Angels,  and  the  Death  of  Cain,  which  are  treated  very 
briefly.  There  are  no  subordinate  incidents,  comic  relief,  or  allegorical 
characters.  The  stage  directions  are  few  and  all  in  Latin.  The  scenes 
are  sometimes  divided  by  the  directions  'introitus  Noe/  'explicit 
Moyses,'  etc. 

8th  play  [H.-P.  vin].  Prologue,  spoken 
by  Contemplacio. 

The  Barrenness  of  Anna. 

9th  play  [H.-P.  ix].  Prologue  by 
Contemplacio. 

The  Dedication  of  Mary  in  the  Temple 
[the  fifteen  psalms  of  Mary]. 

10th  play  [H.-P.  x].  Prologue  by 
Contemplacio  [printed  by  H.-P.  as  the 
epilogue  of  the  last  play]. 

The  Betrothal  and  Marriage  of  Mary. 


There  is  no  8th  pageant  in  the  Pro- 
logue. 

There  is  no  9th  pageant  in  the  Pro- 
logue. 


10th  pag.     Two  st.  by  3rd  Vex.  and 
one  st.  by  1st  Vex. 

The  Betrothal  and  Marriage  of  Mary. 


M.  L.  R.  ix. 


6 


82  The  Problem  of  the  '  Ludus  Coventriae* 

PROLOGUE.  TEXT. 

llth  pag.     One  st.  by  2nd  Vex.  llth   play   [H.-P.    xi].      Prologue  by 

The  Salutation  and  Conception.  Contemplacio. 

Scene  in  Heaven  between  the  virtues 
Justice,  Truth,  Mercy  and  Peace,  and  the 
Three  Persons  of  the  Trinity,  the  Saluta- 
tion and  Conception. 

12th  pag.     One  st.  by  3rd  Vex.  12th  play  [H.-P.  xn  and  first  22  lines 

The  Return  of  Joseph.  of  xiii].     The  Return  of  Joseph. 

There  is  no  13th  pageant.  13th  play  [H.-P.  xm].     Prologue  by 

Contemplacio. 

The  Visit  of  Mary  to  Elizabeth.  Epi- 
logue by  Contemplacio  explaining  the 
origin  of  the  '  AveJ  '  Benedictus '  and 
'  Magnificat. ,' 

This  section  is  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  series  by  the  prologues 
and  epilogue  of  Contemplacio.  The  plays  are  divided  from  each  other 
by  the  prologues.  The  style  is  different  from  that  of  the  earlier  plays. 
The  object  of  this  cycle  dealing  with  the  Girlhood  of  the  Virgin  is 
to  explain  the  origin  of  those  parts  of  the  church  service  which  relate 
to  her.  The  scenes  are  very  long  and  long-winded.  Allegorical 
characters  are  introduced  freely.  There  is  an  attempt  at  humour  in 
the  aged  Joseph,  who  does  not  want  a  young  wife,  but  the  writer  jokes 
with  difficulty.  The  stage  directions  are  fairly  full,  partly  in  Latin, 
partly  in  English. 

14th  pag.  One  st.  of  four  lines  only  14th  play  [H.-P.  xiv].  The  Trial  of 
by  1st  Vex.  Joseph  and  Mary. 

The  Trial  of  Joseph  and  Mary. 

15th  pag.  One  st.  of  four  lines  only  15th  play  [H.-P.  xv].  Joseph  and  the 
by  2nd  Vex.  Midwives,  the  Birth  of  Christ. 

Joseph  and  the  Midwives,  the  Birth 
of  Christ. 

Unlike  the  foregoing  plays,  which  were  all  intended  to  edify,  these 
two  are  broadly  comic.  There  are  no  allegorical  characters,  unless  the 
two  detractors  in  the  14th  play,  Bakbytere  and  Reyse-sclaundyr,  count 
as  such.  The  stage  directions  are  fairly  full  and  all  in  Latin. 

16th  pag.    One  normal  st.  by  3rd  Vex.  16th  play  [H.-P.  xvi].    The  Adoration 

The  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds.  of  the  Shepherds. 

15th  (sic)  pag.     One  st.  by  1st  Vex.  17th  play  [H.-P.  xvn].      Herod  and 

Herod    and    the    Three    Kings,    the      the  Three  Kings,  the  Adoration  of  the 

Adoration  of  the  Three  Kings.  Three    Kings,    the  Flight   of  the    Three 

Kings.     \The  scene  of  the  Adoration  is 
added  in  a  different  hand.     H.-P.  n.] 

This  is  omitted  entirely  in  the  Pro-  18th  play  [H.-P.  xvin].  The  Purifica- 
logue.  No  place  is  left  for  it  in  the  tion.  In  the  margin  of  this  play  is 
numbering.  written  the  date  1468. 


MADELEINE    HOPE    DODDS 


83 


PROLOGUE. 

16th  (sic)  pag.     One  st.  by  2nd  Vex. 
The  Massacre  of  the   Innocents,  the 
Flight  into  Egypt. 

17th  pag.     One  st.  by  3rd  Vex. 
The  Death  of  Herod. 


TEXT, 

19th  play  [H.-P.  xix  to  st.  14].  The 
Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  the  Flight 
into  Egypt. 

20th  play  [H.-P.  xix  to  end].  The 
Death  of  Herod. 


The  16th,  17th,  19th  and  20th  plays  form  a  complete  cycle,  into 
which  the  18th  seems  to  be  interpolated.  In  the  18th  play  there  are 
full  stage  directions,  partly  in  Latin,  partly  in  English.  In  the  rest 
the  directions  are  very  short  and  in  Latin  only.  There  is  no  division 
into  scenes,  and  the  whole  appears  to  have  been  intended  to  be  acted 
continuously.  The  allegorical  characters  of  Death  and  the  Devil  are 
introduced.  There  is  one  attempt  at  humour  in  the  Shepherds'  pla;f. 
The  flight  into  Egypt  is  treated  very  briefly. 

Christ  and  the 


18th  pag.     One  st.  by  1st  Vex. 
Christ  and  the  Doctors. 

19th  pag.     One  st.  by  2nd  Vex. 

The  Baptism  of  Christ,  the  Descent 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  Christ  goes  into  the 
Wilderness. 


20th  pag.     One  st.  by  3rd  Vex. 
The  Parliament  of  Devils,  the  Tempta- 
tion of  Christ. 

21st  pag.     One  st.  by  1st  Vex. 
The  Woman  taken  in  Adultery. 

22nd  pag.     One  st.  by  2nd  Vex. 
The  Raising  of  Lazarus. 


21st  play  [H.-P.  xx]. 
Doctors. 


22nd  play  [H.-P.  xxi].  The  Baptism 
of  Christ,  the  Descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
Christ  goes  into  the  Wilderness.  [The 
first  speech  of  John  the  Baptist  is  added 
in  another  hand.  H.-P.  n.] 

23rd  play  [H.-P.  xxn].  The  Parlia- 
ment of  Devils,  the  Temptation  of 
Christ. 


24th  play  [H.-P.  xxin]. 
taken  in  Adultery. 


The  Woman 


25th  play 
of  Lazarus. 


xxiv].     The  Raising 


These  five  plays  are  simply  written,  and  have  no  allegorical  characters, 
except  the  devils.  The  stage  directions  are  few  and  in  Latin.  The 
beginnings  and  ends  of  the  plays  are  sometimes  marked  by  such  phrases 
as  '  Modo  de  doctoribus  disputantibus  cum  Jhesu  in  tempio/  '  Hie 
incipit  de  suscitatione  Lazari,'  etc.  The  agreement  of  the  scenes  with 
the  description  in  the  Prologue  is  remarkably  close. 

26th  play  [H.-P.  xxv].  Prologue  by 
Lucifer.  The  Council  of  the  Jews  to 
destroy  Christ. 

27th  play  [H.-P.  xxvi].  Philip  and 
James  find  the  ass  and  the  foal,  the 
Preaching  of  Peter  and  John,  the  Entry 
of  Christ  into  Jerusalem,  the  Healing  of 
the  Blind,  Christ's  Lament  over  Jerusalem. 

28th  play  [H.-P.  xxvn].  The  Last 
Supper  at  the  House  of  Simon  the  Leper, 
the  Woman  with  the  Ointment,  Judas  sells 

Christ. 


This  is  omitted  altogether  from  the 
Prologue,  and  no  number  is  left  for  it. 

23rd  pag.     First  four  lines  of  st.  by 
3rd  Vex. 

The  Entry  of  Christ  into  Jerusalem. 


24th    pag.      Completion    of    st.     by 
1st  Vex. 

The  Last  Supper,  Judas  sells  Christ. 


6—2 


84 


The  Problem  of  the  l Lucius  Coventriae' 


PROLOGUE. 

25th  pag.    One  normal  st.  by  2nd  Vex. 
The  Garden  of  Gethsemane,  the  Be- 
trayal of  Christ. 

None  of  this  is  mentioned  in  the  Pro- 
logue, nor  is  any  number  left  for  it. 


26th  pag.     One  st.  by  3rd  Vex. 
The  Trial  of  Christ  before  Caiaphas, 
the  Denial  of  Peter. 


This  is  not  mentioned  in  the  Prologue, 
and  there  is  no  number  left  for  it. 

27th  pag.     One  st.  by  1st  Vex. 
Christ   and   the    Three    Thieves    before 
Pilate.     Pilate's    Wife  goes  to  bed. 

28th  pag.     One  st.  by  2nd  Vex. 
The  Remorse  and  Death  of  Judas. 

29th  pag.     One  st.  by  3rd  Vex. 

The  Dream  of  Pilate's  Wife,  the  Trial 
of  Christ  and  the  Three  Thieves  before 
Pilate. 

30th  pag.     One  st.  by  1st  Vex. 
The   Crucifixion,    the  Virgin    and   St 
John. 


31st  pag.     One  st.  by  2nd  Vex. 
The  Miracle  of  Longinus,  the  Descent 
into  Hell. 

32nd  pag.     One  st.  by  3rd  Vex. 
The  Burial  of  Christ,  Pilate's  Three 
Soldiers. 

33rd  pag.     One  st.  by  1st  Vex. 
The  Resurrection,  Christ  appears 
the  Virgin. 


to 


TEXT. 

29th  play  [H.-P.  xxvm].  The  Garden 
of  Gethsemane,  the  Betrayal  of  Christ, 
Mary  Magdalen  brings  the  news  to  the 
Virgin. 

30th  play  [H.-P.  xxix].  Prologue,  a 
Procession  of  the  Apostles,  with  John  the 
Baptist  and  St  Paul,  expounded  by  two 
doctors,  then  a  speech  by  an  expositor  [the 
speech  is  headed  Contemplacio,  but  there 
is  no  name  in  the  stage  direction].  The 
expositor  states  that  last  year  they  showed 
the  Entry  into  Jerusalem,  the  Last  Supper 
and  the  Betrayal  of  Christ, — this  year 
they  will  proceed  to  His  Trial  and  Pas- 
sion. There  follows  a  scene  between  King 
Herod  and  his  Two  Soldiers. 

31st  play  [H.-P.  xxx].  The  Trial  of 
Christ  before  Caiaphas,  the  Denial  of 
Peter,  the  Remorse  and  Death  of  Judas. 
[The  last  a  short  episode  in  eight  lines.] 


32nd  play  [H.-P.  xxx]. 
Pilate  and  before  Herod. 


Christ  before 


These  scenes  take  place  further  on  ; 
they  occur  twice  in  the  Prologue. 

This  is  a  very  short  incident  which 
occurs  above. 

33rd  play  [H.-P.  xxxi  and  xxxn  to 

st.  18].  Prologue  by  Satan,  the  Dream 
of  Pilate's  Wife,  the  Trial  of  Christ  and 
the  Three  Thieves  before  Pilate. 

34th  play  [H.-P.  xxxn  st.  18  to  end]. 
The  Bearing  of  the  Cross,  Veronica's 
Handkerchief,  the  Crucifixion,  the  Virgin 
and  St  John. 

35th  play  [H.-P.  xxxm].  The  Descent 
into  Hell. 


36th  play  [H.-P.  xxxiv  and  xxxv  to 
st.  23].  The  Miracle  of  Longinus.  The 
Burial  of  Christ,  the  Three  Soldiers. 

37th  play  [H.-P.  xxxv  to  end].  The 
Resurrection,  Christ  appears  to  the  Vir- 
gin, Pilate  and  the  Soldiers. 


The  26th  to  37th  plays  form  a  complete  Easter  play,  which  was 
intended  to  be  acted  one  half  in  one  year  and  the  second  half  in 
the  next  year.  It  is  long  and  elaborate.  The  stage  directions  are 
very  full  and  in  English.  The  action  takes  place  on  different  scaffolds, 
but  there  is  no  division  into  scenes,  and  it  is  evidently  meant  to 
be  acted  continuously.  This  section  is  imperfectly  described  in  the 


MADELEINE    HOPE    DODDS 


85 


Prologue,  where  the  order  of  events  is  often  misplaced.  The  cycle 
clearly  begins  with  the  Devil's  long  Prologue  to  the  26th  play,  but 
the  end  is  not  so  distinctly  marked.  The  reason  for  this  will  be 
discussed  below. 


PROLOGUE. 

34th  pag.     One  st.  by  2nd  Vex. 

The  Three  Maries  at  the  Sepulchre, 
the  Message  of  the  Resurrection,  Peter 
and  John. 

35th  pag.     One  st.  by  3rd  Vex. 
Mary  Magdalen  at  the  Sepulchre. 

36th  pag.     One  st.  by  1st  Vex. 
The  Pilgrims  of  Emmaus. 

37th  pag.  First  four  lines  of  st.  by 
2nd  Vex. 

The  Incredulity  of  Thomas. 

38th  pag.  Completion  of  st.  by  3rd 
Vex. 

The  Ascension,  the  Apostles  comforted 
by  Angels. 

39th  pag.     Normal  st.  by  1st  Vex. 
The  Descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

This  is  in  a  different  handwriting  and 
is  not  mentioned  in  the  Prologue. 

40th  pag.     One  st.  by  2nd  Vex. 
The  Day  of  Judgment. 

Concluding  stanza  by  '3rd   Vex.  which 

mentions  N town,  and  states  that  the 

plays  will  be  performed  there  on  Sunday. 

The  last  plays,  except  the  interpolated  Assumption  play,  are  simple 
and  scriptural.  The  stage  directions,  with  one  exception,  are  in  Latin 
and  are  few  in  number.  There  are  no  allegorical  persons.  The  scenes 
are  sometimes  divided  by  the  directions  '  Explicit  apparicio  Mariae 
Magdalen,'  '  Hie  incipit  aparicio  Cleophae  et  Lucae,'  etc. 

The  Prologue  is  in  stanzas  of  fourteen  lines.  It  is  spoken  by  the 
three  Vexillators  in  turn,  and  normally  each  has  a  stanza,  but  although 
they  never  speak  out  of  order,  sometimes  two  stanzas  are  assigned  to 
one  Vexillator,  and  sometimes  one  stanza  is  divided  between  two.  This 
gives  rise  to  the  suspicion  that  the  Prologue  has  been  altered  from  its 
original  form,  and  that  these  changes  were  necessary  in  order  to  fit  in 
the  Vexillators  each  in  his  turn. 

Further  examination  confirms  this  suspicion.  It  is  noticeable  that 
parts  of  the  Prologue  describe  the  pageants  very  accurately,  while  in 


TEXT. 

38th  play  [H.-P.  xxxvil  The  Three 
Maries  at  the  Sepulchre,  the  Message  of 
the  Resurrection,  Peter  and  John. 

39th  play  [H.-P.  xxxvn].  Mary  Mag- 
dalen at  the  Sepulchre. 

40th  play  [H.-P.  xxxvm  to  st.  30]. 
The  Pilgrims  of  Emmaus. 

41st  play  [H.-P.  xxxvm  st.  31  to  end]. 
The  Incredulity  of  Thomas. 

42nd  play  [H.-P.  xxxix].  The  Ascen- 
sion, the  Apostles  comforted  by  Angels, 
the  Choosing  of  Matthias. 

43rd  play  [H.-P.  XL].  The  Descent 
of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

44th  play  [H.-P.  XLI].  The  Death, 
Funeral,  Assumption  and  Coronation  of 
the  Virgin. 

45th  play  [H.-P.  XLII].  The  Day  of 
Judgment.  [Incomplete.] 


86  The  Problem  of  the  'Ludus  Coventriae' 

other  parts  the  description  is  incorrect;  some  pageants  are  omitted, 
although  numbers  are  left  for  them  in  the  Prologue,  others  are  omitted 
altogether,  and  two  scenes  are  described  in  the  Prologue  which  do  not 
occur  in  the  manuscript.  The  concluding  stanza  of  the  Prologue  states 
that: 

Of  holy  wrytte  this  game  xal  bene 
And  of  no  fablys  be  no  way. 

but  so  far  is  this  from  being  the  case,  that  the  manuscript  contains 
more  legendary  matter  than  any  of  the  other  extant  cycles,  except  the 
Cornish.  On  the  other  hand  it  is  these  legendary  portions  which  are 
most  often  omitted  or  misdescribed  in  the  Prologue. 

It  may  be  inferred  that  the  Prologue,  including  the  last  stanza,  was 
originally  written  for  a  cycle  of  plays  belonging  to  N—  -  town.  Later 

a  number  of  other  plays  were  interpolated  into  the  N town  cycle, 

and  the  Prologue  was  expanded  to  include  them,  but  the  alteration 
was  performed  clumsily  and  incompletely ;  perhaps  it  was  undertaken 
rather  to  serve  as  an  index  to  the  manuscript  than  as  a  proclamation, 
although  of  course  it  could  be  used  for  the  latter  purpose  if  necessary. 

From  this  reasoning  it  follows  that  there  are  two  marks  which  must 
distinguish  the  original  N—  -  town  plays  from  the  interpolations.  In 
the  first  place  they  must  be  described  accurately  by  the  Prologue,  and 
in  the  second  place  they  must  be  founded  upon  stories  from  the  Bible. 

The  first  seven  Old  Testament  plays  differ  from  the  Prologue  only 
in  two  points,  one  slight  difference  in  order,  and  one  small  omission. 
They  are  therefore  probably  part  of  the  N—  -  town  cycle.  Then  comes 
a  long  interpolation,  very  imperfectly  described  in  the  Prologue,  and 
the  N—  -  town  cycle  is  not  resumed  until  the  21st  play  [H.-P.  xx] 
'  Christ  and  the  Doctors.'  This  and  the  four  following  plays  have  a 
closer  correspondence  with  the  Prologue  than  any  other  part  of  the 

text,  and  they  may  therefore  be  regarded  as  certainly  N town 

plays. 

There  follows  another  long  interpolation,  which  is  very  incompletely 
treated  in  the  Prologue.  Here  however  the  discrepancies  throw  further 
light  on  the  N—  -  town  series.  As  the  events  of  any  Easter  cycle 
were  necessarily  much  the  same,  the  compiler  seems  to  have  been 
content  to  leave  most  of  the  stanzas  in  the  Prologue  which  described 

the  N town  Easter  plays,  although  they  do  not  correspond  very 

closely  with .  those  which  he  substituted.  In  the  N—  -  town  plays 
there  was  no  scene  between  Mary  Magdalen  and  the  Virgin,  no  Herod, 
no  Bearing  of  the  Cross,  but  on  the  other  hand  Pilate's  wife  appeared 


MADELEINE    HOPE    DODDS  87 

in  two  scenes,  while  in  the  text  she  only  comes  on  once,  and  there  was 
a  complete  play  on  the  Remorse  and  Death  of  Judas,  which  is  only 
a  minor  incident  in  the  text. 

From  the  play  of  '  The  Three  Maries  at  the  Sepulchre '  onwards  the 
plays  correspond  with  the  Prologue,  except  that  the  latter  omits  the 
choosing  of  Matthias,  a  short  episode  in  the  Pentecost  play.  These 

plays  were  therefore  probably  part  of  the  N town  cycle,  with  the 

exception  of '  The  Death,  Funeral  and  Assumption  of  the  Virgin.'  This 
play  'is  in  a  different  hand,  and  is  written  on  a  separate  quire  of 
different  paper.  But  it  was  incorporated  at  the  time  of  the  original 
writing  of  the  manuscript... for  it  is  both  corrected  and  rubricated  by 
the  hand  of  the  scribe  who  wrote  the  bulk  of  the  cycle1.' 

This  series  of  plays  on  the  whole  fulfils  the  promise  of  the  Prologue 
and  is  founded  on  Holy  Writ.  The  biblical  events  are  sometimes 
wrongly  grouped,  as  in  the  6th  play,  where  the  incident  of  Moses  and 
the  Burning  Bush  is  made  the  preliminary  of  Moses  and  the  Tables 
of  the  Law.  Sometimes,  too,  the  Bible  narrative  is  expanded;  the 
Temptation  begins  with  a  Parliament  of  Devils, — the  death  of  Lazarus 
and  the  lamentation  of  his  sisters  with  their  consolers  are  given  in  full, 
and  so  forth, — but  these  are  expansions  on  the  lines  of  the  text,  not 
wholly  extraneous  additions.  The  supposed  N—  -  town  plays  have 
other  characteristics  in  common.  They  are  frequently  divided  up  into 
separate  plays  by  such  directions  as  '  introitus,'  or  '  hie  incipit '  at  the 
beginning,  and  'explicit'  or  'Amen'  at  the  end.  The  stage  directions 
resemble  those  in  the  York  cycle,  being  short  and  entirely  in  Latin. 
There  are  no  comic  incidents  or  allegorical  characters ;  the  aim  of  the 
whole  is  didactic,  and  the  plays  seem  to  be  earlier  in  form,  though  not 
in  language,  than  the  others  in  the  manuscript.  The  Prologue  states 
'that  the  plays  were  performed  at  N-  -  town  on  a  Sunday.  They 
cannot  therefore  have  formed  a  Corpus  Christi  cycle,  as  that  would 
have  taken  place  on  a  Thursday,  but  it  may  have  been  a  Whitsun  cycle. 

About  the  year  1468  someone  took  this  old  cycle  of  plays  and 
amalgamated  with  it  several  other  cycles  which  he  had  before  him. 
His  object  was  twofold, — to  convey  instruction  and  to  honour  the 
Virgin, — and  he  selected  all  his  plays  with  a  view  to  these  ends. 
Between  the  end  of  the  Old  Testament  plays  and  the  beginning  of  the 
New  Testament  he  interpolated  the  cycle  of  '  The  Girlhood  of  the 
Virgin.'  This  is  complete  in  itself,  and  would  be  appropriate  for 

1  W.  W.  Greg  in  the  Athenasum  for  Sept.  13,  1913.     Halliwell-Phillipps  was  therefore 
mistaken  when  he  took  it  for  a  later  addition. 


88  The  Problem  of  the  'Ludus  Coventriae' 

performance  on  St  Anne's  Day  by  a  religious  guild  of  St  Anne  or  of 
the  Virgin.  It  was  included  by  the  compiler  because  it  fell  in  so  well 
with  his  purpose,  as  it  is  very  didactic,  and  written  in  praise  of  the 
Virgin.  He  inserted  some  stanzas  descriptive  of  the  cycle  in  the 
Prologue,  and  left  numbers  for  others  which  he  never  wrote. 

The  14th  and  15th  plays  [H.-P.  XI v  and  xv]  appear  to  come  from 

some  craft-guild  plays  other  than  those  of  N town,  as  the  stanzas 

relating  to  them  in  the  Prologue  are  evidently  insertions.  These  are 
the  only  plays  in  the  whole  manuscript  where  the  treatment  is  avowedly 
comic.  They  were  probably  included  as  part  of  the  history  of  the 
Virgin. 

The  Nativity  plays,  or  rather  play,  as  it  is  evidently  meant  to  be 
acted  continuously,  forms  a  separate  Christmas  series,  distinct  in  style 
and  language.  The  compiler  must  have  chosen  it  on  account  of  the 
impressive  'Death  of  Herod,'  which  is  the  best  scene  in  the  whole 
manuscript,  but  he  was  not  quite  satisfied,  because  there  is  so  little 
in  it  about  the  Virgin,  and  he  therefore  inserted  the  play  of  '  The 
Purification.'  This  play  was  perhaps  taken  from  some  other  Christmas 
series.  It  is  not  mentioned  in  the  Prologue,  and  therefore  cannot  belong 
to  N—  -  town,  and  it  has  so  little  affinity  to  the  14th  and  15th  plays 
that  it  probably  is  not  connected  with  them. 

After  the  five  N—  -  town  plays  comes  a  wholly  different  interpola- 
tion, an  Easter  play  which  was  intended  for  representation  in  two 
successive  years.  As  it  is  very  didactic  and  assigns  an  important  place 
to  the  Virgin,  the  compiler  inserted  it  instead  of  the  N—  -  town 
Easter  series.  The  beginning  and  middle  of  this  Easter  cycle  are  clear, 
but  the  compiler  seems  to  have  cut  off  the  end,  and  substituted  the 

rest  of  the  N town  plays.    The  Resurrection  play  contains  a  speech 

from  the  thirteenth  century  East  Midland  poem  of  '  The  Harrowing  of 
Hell1 '  and  the  very  elaborate  stage  directions  in  English  resemble  those 
of  the  morality  play  '  Mind,  Will,  and  Understanding2.' 

In  most  of  the  plays  which  are  here  called  interpolations  the  matter 
is  to  a  great  extent  legendary,  and  the  lines  of  the  Prologue  which 
promise  that  they  shall  be  founded  on  Holy  Writ  are  not  applicable. 
'  The  Girlhood  of  the  Virgin '  is  based  upon  the .  apocryphal  '  Birth  of 
the  Virgin'  and  ' Protevangelion  of  James.'  The  scene  between  the 
four  'Daughters  of  God,'  Truth,  Mercy,  Peace,  and  Justice,  at  the 
beginning  of  the  tenth  play,  is  a  favourite  medieval  allegory  which  was 

1  A.  W.  Pollard,  English  Miracle  Plays,  p.  xxxviii. 

2  Pollard,  The  Macro  Plays,  E.E.T.S.,  pp.  xix— xx  n. 


MADELEINE    HOPE    DODDS  89 

also  dramatised  in  'The  Castle  of  Perseverance/  a  morality  of  c.  1425 l. 
The  scriptural  narrative  is  not  reached  until  the  Salutation.  '  The  Trial 
of  Joseph  and  Mary'  is  entirely  apocryphal ;  so  are  the  Cherry  tree  Story 
and  the  episode  of  Joseph  and  the  Mid  wives  in  '  The  Birth  of  Christ.' 
The  Christmas  play  keeps  closer  to  the  Bible,  but  contains  the  addition 
of  the  Death  of  Herod.  The  Easter  cycle  includes  the  legends  of 
St  Veronica,  the  Appearance  to  the  Virgin,  and  the  Descent  into  Hell, 
besides  numerous  small  additions  to  and  deviations  from  the  New 
Testament. 

Thus  in  order  to  discover  the  origins  of  the  '  Ludus  Coventriae '  it 

is  necessary  to  identify  not  merely  N town,  but  five  other  places 

where  five  different  cycles  were  performed.  It  has  recently  been, 
suggested  with  some  probability  that  '  The  Girlhood  of  the  Virgin ' 
was  the  cycle  performed  at  Lincoln2.  Setting  aside  this  complicated 
problem,  there  remain  the  questions  of  why  and  where  the  present 
compilation  was  made.  It  seems  probable  that  the  whole  cycle  was 
arranged  for  representation  on  some  particular  occasion.  It  is  so  long 
that  it  can  scarcely  have  been  acted  often ;  the  whole  performance 
must  have  taken  nearly  a  week.  The  cycle  dealing  with  '  The  Girlhood 
of  the  Virgin '  required  a  whole  day,  as  Contemplacio  makes  clear  in 
the  Prologues.  The  Easter  plays  required  two  days.  The  other  plays 
were  shorter,  but  in  order  to  put  these  cycles  in  their  proper  places,  it 
would  be  necessary  to  spread  the  acting  over  six  days  thus : 

1st   day.     The  seven  Old  Testament  plays. 

2nd  day.     The  Girlhood  of  the  Virgin. 

3rd  day.  Twelve  plays,  beginning  with  the  Prologue  to  '  The  Trial 
of  Joseph  and  Mary '  and  ending  with  Christ's  prophecy  of  His  death 
at  the  end  of  'The  Raising  of  Lazarus.' 

4th  and  5th  days.     The  Easter  plays. 

6th  day.  Seven  plays  beginning  with  the  lament  of  the  Maries 
and  ending  with  the  Day  of  Judgment. 

With  regard  to  the  question  of  the  locality  to  which  the  MS. 
belongs,  its  wanderings  may  be  traced  for  one  or  two  steps.  Robert 
Hegge  of  Durham  was  the  owner  previous  to  Sir  Robert  Cotton. 
Hegge  died  suddenly  in  1629  at  the  age  of  thirty.  He  and  James, 
Sir  Robert's  librarian,  both  belonged  to  Corpus  Christi  College,  Oxford, 
and  James  probably  acquired  the  manuscript  after  Hegge's  death. 
Robert  Hegge  was  the  author  of  The  Legend  of  St  Cuthbert.  His 

1  Pollard,  The  Macro  Plays,  E.E.T.S.,  pp.  xxiii,  xxxix. 

2  Hardin  Craig  in  the  Athenaeum  for  Aug.  16,  1913. 


90  The  Problem  of  the  l  Ludus  Coventriae' 

father,  Stephen  Hegge,  a  public  notary  of  Durham,  was  also  an 
antiquary,  who  made  copies  of  his  son's  book  and  of  The  Rites  and 
Monuments  of  Durham  (1593),  now  in  Bishop  Cosin's  Library  at 
Durham1.  Kobert  Hegge's  maternal  uncle  Robert  Swift  had  a  large 
library,  of  which  he  bequeathed  the  greater  part  to  his  '  true  brother 
and  friend'  Stephen  Hegge  in  1599-16002.  Thus  Robert  Hegge 
belonged  on  both  sides  to  families  who  delighted  in  books  and  in  the 
antiquities  of  their  native  town,  and  it  seems  possible  that  he  found 
the  MS.  of  the  '  Ludus  Coven triae '  at  Durham. 

It  is  tempting  to  suppose  that  the  MS.  contains  the  Corpus  Christ! 
plays  which  were  undoubtedly  performed  at  Durham  in  the  fifteenth 
century3,  but  the  language  in  which  the  plays  are  written  makes 
this  theory  untenable.  All  the  plays  are  in  the  dialect  of  the  East 
Midlands  except  the  addition  of  'The  Death,  Funeral,  Assumption 
and  Coronation  of  the  Virgin,'  which  bears  some  traces  of  the  northern 
dialect.  It  is  also  northern  in  treatment,  as  it  assigns  a  very  important 
place  to  the  incidents  of  'The  Funeral  of  the  Virgin.'  Plays  on  this 
subject  were  performed  at  York  and  at  Newcastle-upon-Tyne,  but 
it  is  not  mentioned  anywhere  else,  although  the  'Assumption'  was 
very  popular.  It  may  be  conjectured  that  the  manuscript  drifted  to 
Durham  in  the  course  of  the  sixteenth  century,  but  the  compilation 
must  have  been  made  in  the  Midlands. 

The  two  extant  collections  of  morality  plays,  the  Digby  MS.  and  the 
Macro  MS.,  are  both  connected,  rather  vaguely,  with  the  monastery  of 
Bury  St  Edmund's.  The  former  once  belonged  to  Miles  Blomfield,  and 
there  was  a  monk  of  that  name  at  Bury  St  Edmund's  in  the  sixteenth 
century.  The  latter  was  found  among  papers  which  were  said  to  have 
come  from  the  monastery.  Both  contain  the  morality  of  '  Mind,  Will 
and  Understanding,'  otherwise  called  'Wisdom/  which  has  a  certain 
affinity  to  the  Easter  cycle  in  the  '  Ludus.'  There  were  Corpus  Christi 
pageants  maintained  by  the  craft  guilds  of  Bury  St  Edmund's,  but  it 
is  not  certain  whether  these  were  plays  or  dumb-shows4.  The  MSS. 
of  craft-guild  plays  were  sometimes  deposited  in  religious  houses  for 
safe-keeping;  for  instance  the  York  plays  were  kept  at  the  Holy 
Trinity  Priory,  and  the  Wakefield  plays  at  Woodkirk  Priory.  If  the 
.monks  of  Bury  St  Edmund's  were  in  the  habit  of  transcribing  plays, 

1  Fowler,  The  Rites  and  Monuments  of  Durham,  Surtees  Soc.,  p.  ix. 

2  North  Country  Will*,  Surtees  Soc.,  in,  175. 

3  Dur.  Curs.  Rec.,  No.  44,  m.  9  and  No.  47,  m.  14  d,  P.B.O.,  printed  in   Victoria 
County  History  of  Durham,  n,  256,  and  Surtees,  History  of  Durham,  iv  (2)  21. 

4  Chambers,  Mediceval  Stage,  n,  343. 


MADELEINE    HOPE    DODDS  91 

and  the  guild  plays  of  the  town  were  also  kept  at  the  Abbey,  an  enter- 
prising clerk  who  wished  to  compile  a  cycle  for  some  particular  occasion 
would  find  quite  a  large  collection  to  work  upon,  and  it  must  have 
been  out  of  such  a  collection  as  this  that  the  '  Ludus  Coventriae '  was 
composed.  The  evidence  is  very  slight,  but  rather  suggestive ;  such  as 
it  is,  it  points  to  Bury  St  Edmund's  as  the  home  of  the  manuscript. 

MADELEINE  HOPE  DODDS. 

GATESHEAD. 


MISCELLANEOUS  NOTES. 


EARLY  USES  OF  '  PARLIAMENTUM.' 

The  student  of  mediaeval  institutions  is  to-day  becoming  keenly 
aware  of  the  neglect  of  language  study  as  a  means  of  arriving  at 
historical  truth.  No  less  an  institution  than  the  English  Parliament 
has  thus  far  failed  to  profit,  in  any  important  way,  from  philology. 
Such  words  as  concilium,  consilium,  and  curia,  as  used  in  England,  have 
never  been  subjected  to  comprehensive,  painstaking  investigation. 
Even  early  uses  of  parliamentum  itself,  as  it  is  the  object  of  this  note 
to  show,  have  passed  unnoticed. 

Speaking  of  central  assemblies  in  England,  Stubbs  has  said  that 
the  name  of  parliament  was  first  applied  to  them  'by  a  contemporary 
writer  in  1246,  namely  by  M.  Paris,  iv.,  5181.'  Dealing  with  the  same 
period  and  subject,  Gneist  says:  'Shortly  afterwards,... the  name 
"parliamentum"  occurs  for  the  first  time  (Chron.  Dunst.,  1244;  Matth. 
Paris,  1246),...2.'  And  both  writers  note  Henry  Ill's  'retrospective' 
use  of  the  word,  in  1244,  in  connection  with  the  assembly  which 
extorted  Magna  Charta  from  John3.  On  this  point,  one  or  other  of 
these  classical  authorities  has  been  followed  by  later  writers,  practically 
all  of  the  standard  manuals  and  text-books  reproducing  the  substance 
of  the  statements  just  cited4.  It  is,  I  believe,  worth  while  to  point  out 
that  there  were  in  England  several  earlier  uses  of  the  word  in  the 
connection  under  consideration5. 

1  Const.  Hist,  i,  §  159.  2  Hist,  of  the  English  Constitution,  i,  316. 

3  'Parliamentum  Eunimede,  quod  fuit  inter  Dom.  Job.  -Regem  patrem  nostrum  et 
barones  suos  Angliee  (Rot.  Claus.  28  Hen.  III.).'    Ibid. 

4  The  New  English  Dictionary  adds  nothing.    Its  citation  of  a  use  of  the  word  for  1237 
in  M.  Paris's  Historia  Minor,  n,  393  is  of  no  value,  for  the  minor  chronicle  was  a  revision 
and  abridgment  of  the  Chronica  Majora,  and  was  begun  as  late  as  1250. 

5  An  instance  occurs  between  the  two  dates  pointed  out  by  Gneist,  viz.  in  1245  : 
'  Henricus  rex  tenuit  parliamentum  suurn  Londoniae  xv.  kal.  Aprilis  de  tribute  Papae.' 
Ann.  Winton.,  90.     The  term  is  applied  to  an  ecclesiastical  assembly  in  1240  :  '  Dominus 
Otto  legatus  tenuit  magnum  parliamentum,  cum  episcopis  et  abbatibus  apud  Londoniam 
in  octavis  Omnium  Sanctorum.'    Ann.  Theokesb.,  116. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  93 

Matthew  Paris  used  it  in  1242  :  '  Convocatur  generale  parlamentum 
Londoniis  die  Martis  ante  Purificationem  beatse  Virginis1.'  There  is  no 
doubt  as  to  the  nature  of  this  assembly ;  a  few  sentences  further  on,  it 
is  referred  to  in  these  words :  '  De  concilio  magno  quod  cum  indigna- 
tione  magnatum  solutum  est.'  Later  in  this  year  is  to  be  found  an 
official  use  of  the  word  in  those  same  Close  Rolls  in  which  Stubbs 
and  Gneist  found  the  first  instance  two  years  later.  Furthermore  this 
is  not  a  '  retrospective '  use,  but  refers  to  a  meeting  to  be  held  the 
next  month :  '  Mandatum  est  G.  de  Segrave,  justiciario  foreste,  quod 
permittat  J.  de  Nevill'  habere  balliam  suam  de  Sothour'  et  Stawd' 
usque  ad  parliamentum  regis  quod  erit  Lond'  a  die  Sancti  Johannis 
Baptiste  in  unum  mensem,  quo  tune  venire  nullatenus  omittat2.'  To 
cite  Matthew  Paris  again,  we  find  him  using  the  word  in  an  interesting 
way  in  1239.  The  Pope  was  dismayed  by  the  outcry  which  his 
monetary  demands  had  occasioned  in  England,  and,  as  a  concession, 
had  recalled  his  legate.  '  Rex  vero,  cum  audisset,  timens  sibi  de  parla- 
mento  futuro  in  octavis  Paschse,  in  quo  adventum  speraverat  electi 
Valentini,  et  confidens  de  praesentia  legati,  coepit  nimium  contristari  et 
timere,'...3.  The  King  took  strenuous  measures  to  the  end  that  the 
legate's  stay  might  be  prolonged.  He  was  successful,  and  that  the 
parliamentum  actually  assembled  is  evidenced  by  the  statement  'Quod 
comperientes  nobiles,  qui  Londoniis  infecto  negotio  suo  et  timentes 
legati  muscipulas  venerant,  et  comperientes  vulpina  diverticula  regis, 
recesserunt  indignantes,  et  regis  verba  sicut  sophismata  detestantesV 
There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Matthew  Paris'  use  of  parliamentum 
for  1246  was  more  strictly  contemporaneous  than  for  1242  and  1239. 
His  independent  work  as  chronicler  at  St  Albans  is  well  known  to  have 
begun  in  1236.  The  earliest  case  which  I  have  yet  found  of  this  kind 
of  use  of  the  word  is  in  the  Worcester  Annals  for  the  year  1223  : 
'  Henricus  rex  tenuit  magnum  parliamentum  apud  Wygorniam  cum 
magnatibus  Anglise,  inter  quos  fuit  rex  Scotise  cum  baronibus  suis5.' 
This  description  leaves  no  doubt  of  the  kind  of  assembly  to  which  the 
chronicler  applied  the  name ;  but  the  contemporaneousness  of  this  part 
of  the  Worcester  Annals  cannot  be  proved. 

ALBERT  BEEBE  WHITE. 

MINNEAPOLIS. 

1  M.  P.  iv,  180.    The  Flores  Hist,  (n,  252),  which  is  here  closely  following  Matth.  Paris, 
varies  the  language :  « Imminente  autem  Purificatione  et  die  generalis  parlamenti,  convenit 
tota  Anglise  nobilitas '  .. .     It  is  likely,  however,  that  this  was  written  a  few  years  later. 

2  The  letter  is  dated  June  30.     Close  Bolls  (1237—1242),  p.  447. 

3  M.  P.  Hi*  526.  4  J/.  P-  in,  531. 
5  Ann.  Wigorn.,  415. 


I 

94  Miscellaneous  Notes 

CHAUCER'S  FRIDAY. 

Right  as  the  Friday,  soothly  for  to  telle, 
Now  it  shyneth,  now  it  reyneth  faste, 
Right  so  can  gery  Venus  overcaste 
The  hertes  of  hir  folk  ;  right  as  hir  day 
Is  gerful,  right  so  chaungeth  she  array. 
Selde  is  the  Friday  al  the  wyke  y-lyke1. 

Whether  or  not  the  passage  below  is  the  source  of  Chaucer's  lines 
(and  it  seems  fairly  probable  that  it  is),  the  account  of  Friday  there 
given  explains  completely  all  the  details  of  Chaucer's  reference.  The 
extract  is  from  Alexander  Neckam's  De  naturis  rerum: 

Quintus  autem  planeta,  propter  effectus  quos  exercet  in  inferioribus,  calidus 

dicitur  et  humidus Sicut  igitur  scientia  terram  inhabitantibus  utilis  est,  ita  et 

Venus  terrenis  planeta  est  benevolus  et  benignissimus.  Hinc  est  quod  sexta  feria, 
in  qua  Venus  dominatur,  fere  semper  aliam  faciem  prcetendere  mdetur  quam  cceteri  dies 
hebdomadce.  Cujus  rei  ratio  haec  est.  Ornnia  corpora  infe.riora  caloris  et  humoris 
beneficio  nutriri  perspicuuna  est.  Si  igitur  pluvise  abundaverint  in  aliis  diebus, 
opus  est  remedio  caloris,  qui  humorem  ex  parte  desiccet  et  aeri  serenitatis  gratiaui 
conferens,  mortalibus  Isetitise  hilaris  solatium  adducat.  Venus  itaque,  quse  calidus 
planeta  est,  caloris  effectum  exercet,  et  serenitatem  adducit,  quse  gratior  est  post 
nubilum.  Si  vero  calor  in  praecedentibus  diebus  dominatus  fuerit,  necessaria  est 
humiditas  sequens,  quam  Venus,  quse  humida  est,  die  cujus  horam  primam  sibi 
vendicat,  inducit2. 

The  '  gerfulness '  of  Friday,  that  is,  has  no  reference  to  any  uncertain 
glories  of  the  day  itself  within  its  own  compass.  It  is  not  on  the  same 
Friday  that  '  Now  it  shyneth,  now  it  reyneth  faste.'  The  allusion,  as 
Neckam's  words  make  clear,  is  to  sunshine  on  Friday,  when  it  has 
rained  the  rest  of  the  week,  and  to  rain  on  Friday,  when  the  other 
days  have  been  fair.  Venus's  day  is  not  '  gerful '  in  that  it  passes,  like 
an  April  day,  from  sun  to  shower.  The  second  line  above  is  but  another 
wording  of  the  statement  in  the  sixth.  If  we  modern  readers  see  two 
ideas  instead  of  one,  it  is  merely  because  we  are  modern  readers.  The 
pilgrims  knew. 

JOHN  LIVINGSTON  LOWES. 

ST  Louis. 

AN  UNKNOWN  PROTESTANT  MORALITY  PLAY. 

Some  years  ago,  while  I  was  searching  the  Loseley  MSS.,  I  came 
across  the  mention  of  a  play  which,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  is  unknown 
to  the  historians  of  the  English  drama.  It  was,  at  first,  my  intention 
to  reserve  this  document  for  a  volume  on  The  Revels  in  the  Time  of 
King  Henry  VIII,  which  is  in  preparation.  But,  as  it  will  probably 

1  Canterbury  Tales,  A  1534—39.  2  Bk.  i,  cap.  vn  (Rolls  Series,  p.  43). 


Miscellaneous  Notes 


95 


take  longer  than  I  had  anticipated  before  the  book  in  question  can  be 
printed,  I  think  it  may  be  of  use  to  publish  this  fact  without  further 
delay. 

The  mention  to  which  I  have  just  alluded  is  to  be  found  in  a  note 
written  in  one  of  the  Revels  Office  books  (Loseley  MS.  17)  giving  a 
list  of  '  Goldys  &  Sylkes  Recey ved  owte  of  the  greate  warderobe  and 
Elles  wheare '  *  Anno  xxxvijmo  Regni  Regis  Henrici  viijui '  (at  the  top  of 
f.  1  has  been  added  the  date  xxiiij  Decembre  A°  xxxvij),  and  also  in 
August  of  the  following  year.  The  note,  which  is  written  on  the 
reverse  of  the  last  folio,  runs  as  follows: 


scoler 
gen?, 
preste 
prentes  of 

London 
Colyer 


vertue  zele 
Insolens  diligens 
old  blynd  Custom 

Hunger  of  Knowledge 
^Thomas  of  Croydon 


So  far  as  I  can  judge,  this  is  a  memorandum  jotted  down  by  one 
of  the  officers  of  the  Revels — probably  the  Clerk — in  view  of  the 
performance  of  the  play  at  Court.  The  first  column  indicates  not, 
as  might  be  supposed,  the  names  of  some  of  the  'dramatis  personae,' 
but  the  way  in  which  the  personages  enumerated  in  the  second  column 
were  to  be  represented1.  Thus  interpreted  the  note  tells  us  that  there 
were  six  actors  in  the  play :  Vertue  or  Zeal  dressed  as  a  scholar2, 
Insolence  and  Diligence,  both  being  gentlemen,  the  Roman  Catholic 
Creed  impersonated  by  a  priest,  Hunger  of  Knowledge  by  an  ap- 
prentice of  London,  and,  finally,  the  popular  figure  of  the  Collier  of 
Croydon. 

Though  this  is  a  mere  list  of  'dramatis  personae'  it  is  sufficient 
to  give  us  an  idea  of  what  the  play  must  have  been  like.  It  was  a 
morality  of  that  later  hybrid  species  which  admitted  types  of  con- 
temporary life,  generally  comic  figures,  by  the  side  of  pure  abstractions 
— a  good  example  of  such  moralities  being  supplied  by  U.  Fulwell's 
Like  Wil  to  Like,  in  which  Thomas  of  Croydon  played  also  a  prominent 
part.  It  must  have  been  of  decidedly  Protestant  tendencies,  probably 

1  From  the  handwriting  it  appears  that  the  names  in  the  first  column  were  not  written 
at  the  same  time  as  the  names  in  the  second  column. 

2  The  word  '  scoler '  is  clearly  in  the  singular,  so  that  this  seems  to  point  to  one 
personage  for  Vertue  or  Zeal;  in  the  next  line,  on  the  contrary,  the  abbreviated  word  gen?, 
must  be  in  the  plural,  for  Insolence  and  Diligence  can  hardly  have  been  the  same  person, 
though  one  actor  may  have  taken  both  parts.     It  should  also  be  said  that  '  diligens '  is  an 
addition. 


96  Miscellaneous  Notes 

setting  forth  the  efforts  of  the  scholar  of  the  time — a  type  just  then 
evolving  and  a  perfect  model  of  vertue — and  of  the  true  gentleman, 
here  called  Diligence,  in  their  opposition  to  the  evil  influence  of  'Old 
blind  Custom '  or  the  Roman  Catholic  Clergy,  who,  we  may  imagine, 
consorted  with  the  mischievous  gentleman  whose  name  was  Insolence. 
To  the  side  of  the  '  virtuous '  personages  belonged  that  favourite  of 
London  audiences,  the  'prentice,  who  in  this  case — and  somewhat 
unexpectedly — seems  to  have  been  conspicuous  for  his  thirst  for 
knowledge.  Good,  simple  Thomas  of  Croydon  supplied  the  comical 
episodes  of  the  play. 

It  is  not  easy  to  arrive  at  a  satisfactory  conclusion  as  to  the  date 
of  the  play.  As  has  already  been  said,  the  play  is  recorded  in  an 
account  book  containing  receipts  of  Wardrobe  Stuff  from  December 
1545  to  August  1546.  But  as  the  memorandum  was  written  on  the 
cover  of  the  book,  this  affords  no  proof  that  the  play  belongs  to  the 
period  covered  by  the  accounts.  It  is,  however,  highly  improbable 
that  the  officers  of  the  Revels  should  have  written  the  note  in  this 
book  had  not  this  book  been  just  in  use  at  that  time  in  the  office. 
If  so,  two  dates  are  possible.  Either  the  officer  of  the  Revels  made 
the  memorandum  at  the  time  the  accounts  were  being  drawn, 
i.e.  between  December  1545  and  August  1546,  and  the  morality, 
therefore,  was  performed  in  the  last  years  of  King  Henry  VIII's 
reign;  or  the  memorandum  was  made  a  little  later  on,  about  May 
1547,  for  we  know  that  in  that  month  the  officers  of  the  Revels  must 
have  used  the  book  for  an  inventory  which  they  were  then  making 
(cf.  Feuillerat,  The  Revels  at  Court  in  the  time  of  King  Edward  VI 
and  Queen  Mary  in  Bang's  Materialien),  and  the  morality  would 
belong  to  the  early  years  of  King  Edward  VI's  reign.  Between  these 
two  possible  dates  it  is  difficult  to  choose. 

ALBERT  FEUILLERAT. 
RENNES. 


PERFORMANCE  OF  A  TRAGEDY  AT  NEW  COLLEGE,  OXFORD, 
IN  THE  TIME  OF  QUEEN  MARY. 

Though  the  document  used  below  is  printed  in  my  book  The 
Revels  at  Court  in  the  Time  of  King  Edward  VI  and  Queen  Mary, 
I  may  call  the  attention  of  the  readers  of  the  Modern  Language  Review 
to  another  unknown  play  of  the  time  of  Queen  Mary.  The  letter  which 
supplies  us  with  information  regarding  this  play  was  written  by  three 


Miscellaneous  Notes  97 

members  of  the  Privy  Council — Sir  Robert  Rochester,  Sir  Francis 
Englefield  and  John  Bourne — to  request  Sir  Thomas  Cawerden,  the 
Master  of  the  Revels,  to  lend  the  suits  of  apparel  necessary  to  set 
forth  a  '  learnyd  Tragedye '  which  the  fellows  and  scholars  of  New 
College,  Oxford,  intended  to  perform  at  Christmas. 

Unfortunately  the  letter  does  not  give  any  details  concerning  the 
subject  of  the  play;  all  that  we  learn  is  that  the  play  was  written 
'to  the  glorie  of  god  and  increase  of  learnyng,'  an  object  eminently 
laudable  but  rather  vague.  We  know,  however,  that  it  was  a 
historical  drama,  for  the  list  of  the  'dramatis  personae'  which  is 
given  at  the  end  of  the  document  contains  three  kings,  two  dukes, 
six  councillors,  one  queen,  three  gentlewomen  and  a  young  prince^ 
This  list,  besides,  permits  us  to  infer  that  the  tragedy  must  have  been 
of  the  same  type  as  Gorboduc  and  contained  allusions  to  the  political 
questions  of  the  time.  Lastly,  a  play  recommended  by  three  of  Queen 
Mary's  Councillors  was  undoubtedly  of  Catholic  tendencies.  In 
imitation  of  what  was  a  courtly  custom,  the  tragedy  was  to  be  pre- 
ceded or  followed  by  a  '  fayre  mask '  of  six  masquers  with  four 
torchbearers. 

The  date  at  which  the  performance  took  place  must  remain 
uncertain,  though  the  names  of  the  Councillors  who  signed  the  letter 
on  the  'xixth  of  December'  enable  us  to  fix  the  date  between  certain 
narrow  limits ;  for  this  letter  cannot  have  been  written  before  Mary's 
accession  in  1553  or  later  than  December  1556,  for  Sir  Robert 
Rochester  died  on  November  28,  1557.  At  any  rate,  the  tragedy 
performed  at  New  College  must  have  been  one  of  the  earliest  purely 
historical  dramas  on  national  or  foreign  themes  represented  in  Tudor 
times. 

ALBERT  FEUILLERAT. 

RENNES. 


MATTHEW  ROYDON. 

Professor  W.  Bang  of  Louvain  in  a  paper  called  '  Roydoniana ' 
recently  published  under  the  auspices  of  the  Academic  Royale  of 
Belgium  has  made  a  contribution  to  the  very  little  that  is  known  of 
Sidney's  elegist,  Matthew  Roydon.  To  this  contribution  I  am  able 
to  make  the  following  small  addition. 

In  Close-Roll  1144  (24  Eliz.  Part  24)  a  Matthew  Royden,  who  is 
doubtless  the  same  man,  of  'Davies'  or  'Thavies'  Inn,  gentleman, 
M.  L.  R.  ix.  7 


98  Miscellaneous  Notes 

appears  on  6th  January  158J  as  promising  to  pay  a  London  goldsmith, 
Henry  Banyster,  £40  by  the  Feast  of  the  Purification  (February  2) 
following.  The  document  runs  much  as  follows: 

Matheus  Royden  de  Davyes  Irine  in  holborne  in  Com.  Midd.  generosus 
Jeronimus  Skyers  de  Ciuitate  London  generosus  &  Nicholaus  Skyers  de  ffurnyvalls 
Jnne  in  Holborne  predict,  generosus... recognoverunt  se  debere  et  eorum  quilibet 
recognovit  se  debere  Henrico  Banyster  ciui  &  Aurifabro  London  Quadragint.  libras 
legalis  monete  Angl.  soluend.  eidem  Henrico  Banyster  aut  suo  cto  Attorn,  hered. 
vel  executoribus  suis  in  fest.  purificacois  be.  marie  virginis  px.  futur.  post  dat. 
huius  Recognicois  et  nisi  fecerint  aut  eorum  vnus  fecerit  volunt  &  concedunt  & 
eorum  quilibet  vult  &  concedit  pro  se  hered.  &  executoribus  suis  per  presentes  quod 
tune  pdicte  quadraginta  libre  leuentur  de  bonis  cattallis  terris  ten.  &  hereditament, 
ipsorum  Mathei  Royden  Jeronimi  Skyers  &  Nichol.  Skyers. ..ad  opus  et  vsum 
eiusdem  Henrici  Banyster  sexto  die  Jan.  anno  Eliz.  vicesimo  quarto. 

As  Roydon's  name  appears  first,  I  suppose  that  the  debt  was  his, 
and  the  other  two  men  were  his  sureties. 

A  pedigree  of  a  family  named  '  Skiers '  which  had  been  settled  near 
Doncaster  is  given  in  Joseph  Hunter's  South  Yorkshire,  II,  p.  101. 
Several  members  of  the  family  are  named  Nicholas,  but  none  Jerome. 
As  the  Skyers  were  apparently  Roydon's  nearest  friends,  I  hoped  that 
by  identifying  them  I  might  get  a  clue  to  the  particular  family  to 
which  Matthew  Roydon  belonged.  This,  however,  I  have  not  done. 

Davies  (or  Thavies)  Inn  and  Furnival's  Inn  were  Inns  of  Chancery, 
as  distinguished  from  Inns  of  Court.  They  were  hostels  for  students 
of  law  attached  to  Lincoln's  Inn.  It  was  not  possible  for  their  students 
to  be  called  to  the  bar  unless  first  admitted  to  one  of  the  Inns  of  Court : 
and  this  step  Matthew  Roydon  seems  not  to  have  taken. 

There  is  apparently  an  allusion  to  someone  of  the  name  Roydon  in 
a  nameless  play  (it  might  be  called  '  Microcosmus '),  to  be  dated  probably 
after  1603,  preserved  in  the  library  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge 
(MS.  R.  10.  4) : 

Ha  ha  he 
Jecorino.     Roidonensis  pol  est  haec  insania  :  ridet  strenue. 

There  seems  to  be  a  pun  on  '  ridet '  and  '  Roidon,'  but  I  have  no 
idea  what  Roydon  is  in  question,  nor  even  if  Roydon  was  a  man,  or 
one  of  the  places  which  bear  the  name. 

G.  C.  MOORE  SMITH. 
SHEFFIELD. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  99 


MARSTON,  LODGE,  AND  CONSTABLE. 

The  three  following  extracts  from  Add.  MS.  11,402  in  the  British 
Museum  are  of  literary  interest,  yet  do  not  seem  to  have  attracted  any 
attention.  The  manuscript  in  question  is  a  summary  of  the  Privy 
Council  Registers  for  the  years  1550  to  16101. 

The  entry  referring  to  Marston  is  tantalisingly  brief.  I  have  no 
conjecture  to  offer  with  regard  to  the  cause  of  his  imprisonment. 

The  second  is  an  interesting  piece  t>f  supplementary  evidence  with 
regard  to  Lodge's  recusancy.  On  January  17,  1610,  he  wrote  thanking 
Sir  Thomas  Edmondes  for  having  enabled  him  to  return  to  England 
in  peace  and  quietness2.  The  extract  printed  here  shows  the  result  of 
Edmondes's  influence. 

The  third  entry  also  deals  with  a  recusant  who  happened  to  be  a 
poet.  Constable  had  been  imprisoned  in  1604  for  his  religion  and  on 
suspicion  of  disloyalty.  In  1610  he  again  became  embroiled  with  the 
government,  and  left  the  country  never  to  return.  He  died  at  Liege, 
October  9,  1613. 


[Fo.  141  recto.     8  June,  1608.] 
John  Marston  comitted  to  newgate. 

II 

[Fo.  150  verso.     28  January,  1610.] 

A  Ire  to  the  Clarke  of  the  peace  of  the  County  of 
mMd'  and  Towne  clarke  of  the  Citie  of  London 
that  if  any  Endictment  be  alreadie  or  shalbe 
hereafter  preferred  against  Thomas  Lodge  dr  of 
Phisicke  for  his  recusancie  to  detaine  it  in  their 
handes  &  certifie  the  LLS:  thereof  wthout  any  pro- 
ceedinges  vntill  they  haue  made  the  LL8:  acquainted 
therewth. 

1  The  original  registers  for  the  years  1601  to  1613  were  burnt  in  the  fire  at  Whitehall 
on  January  12,  1619.     See  P.  C.  Eegister  (in  P.  E.  0.),  No.  30,  fo.  73. 

3  A  transcript  of  this  letter  made  by  Thomas  Birch  is  in  Add.  MS.  4164,  fo.  211. 


100  Miscellaneous  Notes 

III 
[Fo.  159  verso.     31  July,  1610.] 

A  passe  for  Henrie  Constable  to  depart  out  of 

his  mate8  dominions,  and  not  to  returne  wthout 

speciall  directions  and  warrant  in  that  behalf 

and  to  take  wth  him  one  man  and  100U  in  mony  &c 

and  that  he  dept  wthin  x  dayes  after  the 

date  hereof. 

F.  P.  WILSON. 
OXFORD. 


SWIFT'S  'TALE  OF  A  TUB.' 

Since  writing  the  article  on  Swift's  Tale  of  a  Tub  which  appeared 
in  the  Modern  Language  Review  for  July  1913,  I  have  seen  in  the 
Bodleian  Library  two  other  copies  of  The  History  of  Martin.  One 
(Godwin  Pamphlets,  1999)  appears  to  be  identical  with  that  numbered 
(c)  in  my  article  (p.  311),  but  the  imprint  is  even  more  badly  cut  than 
in  the  British  Museum  copy.  The  other  (Godwin  Pamphlets,  1911) 
appears  to  be  identical  with  the  first  in  text,  but  has  a  different  title 
page  : 

THE  HISTORY  OF  MARTIN.  BEING  A  Proper  SEQUEL 
to  The  Tale  of  a  Tub.  WITH  A  DIGRESSION  concerning  the 
Nature,  Usefulness,  and  Necessity  of  W7ARS  and  QUARRELS. 
By  the  Rev.  D— N  S— T. 

Not  sparing  his  own  Clergy  Cloth, 
But  eats  into  it  like  a  Moth. 

To  which  is  added,  A  DIALOGUE  between  A—  P— e,  Esq. ;  and 
Mr.  C —  s  C — ffe,  Poets,  in  St.  James's  Park.  LONDON  :  Printed 
for  T.  TAYLOR,  at  the  Rose,  in  Exeter- Exchange.  MDCCXLII. 

The  sentence  *  No  other  copy  of  this  edition  is  known '  should  be 
deleted  in  my  article  (p.  311,  1.  22):  but  this  correction  in  no  way 
affects  my  argument. 

A.    C.    GUTHKELCH. 
LONDON. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  101 

THREE  NOTES  ON  THE  'DiviNA  COMMEDIA.' 
I. 

The  'Messo  del  Cielo'  (Inf.  ix,  64—105). 

IT  is  obvious  that  Dante's  City  of  Dis  is  the  Vergilian  Tartarus, 
over  the  gate  of  which  no  power  of  man,  nor  even  the  dwellers  in  the 
sky,  can  prevail  (A en.  vi,  552 — 556) : 

Porta  adversa  ingens,  solidoque  adamante  columnae, 

vis  ut  nulla  virum,  non  ipsi  exseindere  ferro 

caelicolae  valeant  ;  stat  ferrea  turris  ad  auras, 

Tisiphoneque .  sedens,  palla  succincta  cruenta,  „ 

vestibulum  exsomnis  servat  noctesque  diesque. 

The  Sibyl  herself  could  not  lead  Aeneas  through  it  (ibid.  563) : 
Nulli  fas  casto  sceleratum  insistere  limen. 

Therefore,  treading  in  the  footsteps  of  Aeneas,  Dante  cannot  obtain 
through  Vergil  unaided  what  the  latter  in  his  poem  could  not  give  to 
the  father-elect  dell'  alma  Roma  e  di  suo  impero.  Allegorically,  reason 
by  itself  is  not  sufficient  to  answer  Lear's  question :  '  Is  there  any  cause 
in  nature  that  makes  these  hard  hearts  ? '  But  the  Sibyl  tells  Aeneas 
that,  though  he  may  not  enter  Tartarus,  she  has  been  there  (Aen.  vi, 
564—565) : 

Sed  me  cum  lucis  Hecate  praefecit  Avernis, 

ipsa  deum  poenas  docuit,  perque  omnia  duxit. 

Borrowing  a  hint  from  Lucan  (Phars.  vi,  621 — 623),  Dante  substitutes 
Erichtho  and  her  witcheries  for  Hecate  and  her  guidance,  in  the  curious 
passage  in  which  Vergil  speaks  of  his  previous  descent  into  the  lowest 
circle  of  Hell  (Inf.  ix,  22—30 ;  cf.  D'Ovidio,  Studii  still  a  Divina  Corn- 
media,  pp.  97—101,  233—235  ;  Moore,  Studies  in  Dante,  i,  pp.  234—237  ; 
and,  for  the  possible  allegorical  significance  of  the  passage,  L.  Filomusi 
Guelfi,  Novissimi  studii  su  Dante).  Thus,  the  whole  inspiration  of  this 
canto  is  purely  classical,  and  we  should  expect  that,  when  the  divine  aid 
comes  to  open  the  gate,  it  should  come  in  a  classical  form — although 
the  sound  of  tempest  that  heralds  the  advent  of  the  niesso  del  cielo 
(Inf.  ix,  64 — 69)  is  intentionally  reminiscent  of  the  advent  of  the 
Paraclete  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles:  'And  suddenly  there  came  a 
sound  from  heaven  as  of  a  rushing  mighty  wind.'  There  are  four 
different  views  as  to  the  identity  of  this  messo  del  cielo:  (i)  that  he  is 
Mercury  (Pietro  Alighieri  and  Benvenuto  da  Impla) ;  (ii)  that  he  is  an 
angel  (the  Ottimo,  Francesco  da  Buti,  and  the  majority  of  commentators)  ; 


102  Miscellaneous  Notes 

(iii)  that  he  is  Aeneas  with  the  golden  bough  (the  Duke  of  Sermoneta 
and  Giovanni  Pascoli) ;  (iv)  that  he  is  Christ  (Fornaciari).  The  third 
alternative  depends  on  the  assumption  that  Dante's  question,  discende 
mai  alcun  del  primo  grado  (Inf.  ix,  17),  refers  to  the  messenger,  whereas 
the  allusion  is  clearly  a  covert  one  to  Vergil  himself,  to  know  if  he  is 
really  able  to  overcome  the  opposition  and  guide  him  further.  The 
fourth  (apart  from  theological  considerations)  seems  contradicted  by 
Dante's  own  bearing  towards  the  mysterious  figure.  As  to  ^ne  second, 
we  observe  that,  when  an  angel  first  appears,  Vergil  bids  Dante  bend 
his  knees  and  fold  his  hands  (Purg.  ii,  28 — 30),  whereas  here  he  is 
simply  to  keep  quiet  and  bow  down  to  him  (Inf.  ix,  85 — 87) ;  also  the 
line,  omai  vedrai  di  si  fatti  officiate,  surely  implies  that  the  angel  pilot 
is  the  first  of  these  celestial  beings  that  the  poet  has  seen.  Again,  the 
speech  of  the  messo  del  cielo  at  the  threshold  is  mainly  composed  of 
mythological  elements — he  refers  to  the  Divine  Will  (Inf.  ix,  94 — 96), 
but  speaks  also  of  the  fates  and  alludes  to  the  handling  of  Cerberus  by 
Hercules  (97 — 99).  Unlike  the  Purgatorio,  all  the  symbols  and  types 
in  the  Inferno  are  more  or  less  from  classical  mythology.  Further, 
there  are  obvious  resemblances  in  this  episode  with  Vergil's  description 
of  Mercury's  flight  to  earth  to  bid  Aeneas  proceed  on  his  destined 
mission  when  delayed  by  his  entanglement  with  Dido,  in  the  fourth  of 
the  Aeneid,  and  with  the  account  given  by  Statius  of  Mercury  bringing 
up  the  ghost  of  Laius  from  the  shades  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  of 
the  Thebaid.  Thus,  Am,  iv,  239—246  : 

Primum  pedibus  talaria  nectit 
aurea,  quae  sublimem  alls  sive  aequora  supra 
seii  terram  rapido  pariter  cum  flamine  portant. 
Turn  virgam  capit — hac  auimas  ille  evocat  Oreo 
pallentes,  alias  sub  Tartara  tristia  mittit ; 
dat  somnos  adimitque,  et  lumina  morte  resignat — 
ilia  fretus  agit  ventos,  et  turbida  tranat 
nubila. 

The  rapido  cum  flamine,  the  ventos,  the  turbida  nubila,  all  suggest  the 
imagery  of  the  coming  of  the  messo  del  cielo  (Inf.  ix,  64 — 69) ;  alias  sub 
Tartara  tristia  mittit  is  repeated  in  the  flight  of  the  ruined  souls  towards 
the  dismal  city  at  his  approach  (79 — 80);  lumina  morte  resignat 
corresponds  with  Vergil  at  the  messenger's  advent  freeing  Dante's  eyes, 
which  he  had  previously  kept  covered  lest  he  should  see  the  Gorgon  and 
become  eternally  dead  (55 — 60,  73 — 75).  Again,  not  only  can  similar 
resemblances  (including  a  special  reference  to  Styx)  be  traced  with 
Statius  (Theb.  ii,  1 — 6),  but  one  passage  from  the  latter  is  almost 
verbally  reproduced:  Infernaque  nubila  vultu  Discutit  (Theb.  ii,  56—57) 


Miscellaneous  Notes  103 

here  becoming :  Dal  volto  rimovea  quell'  aer  grasso  ( Inf.  ix,  82).  That 
Hermes  was  the  messenger  of  heaven,  as  also  the  conductor  of  shades 
between  the  upper  and  lower  worlds,  was  of  course  a  commonplace  of 
mythology.  Dante  is  bidden  do  him  reverence,  but  this  is  not  adoration 
(cf.  Par.  iv,  61 — 63).  With  Mercury's  winged  sandals,  the  messenger 
crosses  the  Styx  colle  piante  ascitttte  (Inf.  ix,  81) ;  with  the  verghetta, 
Mercury's  staff,  the  caduceus,  he  opens  the  gate  without  resistance 
(89 — 90).  If  a  justification  is  needed  for  this  christianising  of  Mercury 
in  angelic  form,  it  may  be  found  in  the  Gonvivio  (ii,  5),  where  Dante 
connects  the  beneficent  deities  of  the  Gentiles  with  the  Christian 
conception  of  celestial  intelligences  or  angels.  He  can  effect  more  than 
Vergil's  caelicolae,  and  now  represents,  not  the  might  of  eloquence  (as 
Benvenuto  suggests),  but  the  power  of  divine  grace,  because  ultimately, 
like  Dante's  Fortuna,  he  is  akin  to  the  altre  'prime  creature  (Inf.  vii,  95), 
the  ministri  e  messaggier  di  vita  eterna  (Purg.  xxx,  18). 


II. 

The  penalty  of  Manfredi  (Purg.  iii,  136 — 141). 

Ver  &  che  quale  in  contumacia  more 

Di  santa  Chiesa,  ancor  che  al  fin  si  penta, 

Star  gli  convien  da  questa  ripa  in  fuore 
Per  ogni  tempo,  ch'  egli  &  stato,  trenta, 

In  sua  presunzion,  se  tal  decreto 

Piu  corto  per  buon  preghi  non  diventa. 

The  significance  of  this  insistence  on  the  number  thirty  in  Manfredi's 
penance  has  hardly  been  fully  grasped  by  the  commentators.  It  occurs 
also  in  one  of  the  visions  of  Mechthild  of  Magdeburg,  who  sees  a  scholar, 
who  has  been  cut  off  by  violence  in  the  midst  of  his  sins,  saved  because 
of  an  internal  sigh  of  repentance  at  the  last,  but  doomed  to  thirty  years' 
purgation,  that  being  the  length  of  time  that  he  had  lived  alienated 
from  God  per  stultam  superbiam  (Lux  Divinitatis,  vi,  12).  Similarly, 
we  find  the  number  thirty  in  one  of  the  purgatorial  stories  told  by 
St  Gregory,  where  a  monk  remains  in  the  purifying  fire  for  thirty  days, 
and  is  then  delivered  by  St  Gregory  having  masses  offered  for  him 
on  thirty  more  consecutive  days  (Dialog,  iv,  55).  The  number  was 
probably  suggested  to  Dante  by  the  practice,  which  is  older  than 
St  Gregory's  time,  of  offering  special  prayers  for  one  dead  for  thirty 
days  after  death,  especial  stress  being  laid  on  the  thirtieth  day. 
St  Ambrose,  in  his  sermon  on  the  death  of  Theodosius,  cites  in  support 
o  f  this  practice  the  text  in  Deuteronomy,  xxxiv,  8,  where  '  the  children 


104  Miscellaneous  Notes 

of  Israel  wept  for  Moses  in  the  plains  of  Moab  thirty  days.'  Later  arose 
the  further  practice  of  what  was  called  '  the  trental  of  St  Gregory,'  in 
which  thirty  special  masses,  of  various  feasts,  were  said  for  the  soul 
departed  at  intervals  through  the  year.  Thus  the  number,  regarded  by 
the  Church  as  specially  significant  in  aiding  those  who  had  died  within 
her  communion,  becomes  with  Dante  the  measure  of  delay  in  the 
admission  to  purification  of  those  who  had  died  in  contumacy  and 
rebellion — even  when,  as  in  the  case  of  Manfredi,  it  was  rebellion  against 
a  decree  in  itself  unjust,  as  being  an  abuse  of  spiritual  power  for 
political  ends. 

III. 

Dante  s  allusion  to  Marcellus  (Parg.  vi,  124 — 126). 

Che  le  citta,  d'  Italia  tutte  piene 

Son  di  tirarmi,  ed  un  Marcel  diventa 
Ogni  villan  che  parteggiando  viene. 

The  precise  interpretation  of  this  terzina  depends  upon  whether  we 
suppose  that  Dante  had  the  words  of  Lucan  or  those  of  Vergil  in  his 
mind.  In  the  former  case,  which  is  the  view  of  Dr  Moore  and 
Dr  Toynbee,  Dante's  allusion  is  to  Phars.  i,  313 : 

Marcellusque  loquax  et  nomina  vana  Catones  ; 

where  Marcellus  is  mentioned  as  one  of  Caesar's  opponents,  the  reference 
being  to  Marcus  Claudius  Marcellus,  the  consul,  who  urged  the  Senate 
to  deprive  Caesar  of  his  command.  The  meaning  here  would  be  that 
every  rustic  countryman  who  comes  to  the  front  in  the  factions  becomes, 
like  Marcellus,  an  opponent  of  the  Empire.  On  the  other  hand,  Pietro 
Alighieri  holds  that  Dante's  reference  is  to  Aen.  vi,  855 — 856,  where 
Vergil  speaks  of  another  and  earlier  Marcellus,  Marcus  Claudius 
Marcellus,  who  defeated  the  Gauls  and  took  Syracuse: 

Aspice,  ut  insignis  spoliis  Marcellus  opimis 
ingreditur,  victorque  viros  supereminet  omnes. 

I  would  suggest  that  Pietro  Alighieri  is  on  the  right  track,  but  that  the 
poet  is  combining  these  with  another  line  in  the  same  book.  Dante's 
un  Marcel  diventa  is  surely  simply  Vergil's  famous  ta  Marcellus  eris 
(Aen.  vi,  883),  applied  here  with  a  satirical  intention.  Such  a  rustic 
leader  of  faction,  whether  for  or  against  the  Empire,  becomes  in  his  own 
eyes  and  in  those  of  his  friends  another  Marcellus,  a  mighty  figure  in 
history  like  the  Roman  soldier  of  old,  insignis  spoliis  opimis,  who,  as  a 
latterday  victor,  viros  supereminet  omnes. 

EDMUND  G.  GARDNER. 

MILL  HILL. 


REVIEWS. 

Vowel  Alliteration  in  the  Old  Germanic  Languages.  By  E.  CLASSEN 
(University  of  Manchester  Publications,  Germanic  Series  No.  1.) 
Manchester :  University  Press.  1913.  8vo.  xvi  +  91  pp. 

In  this  short  but  scholarly  study  we  have  a  critical  discussion  of  one 
of  the  vexed  questions  in  Old  Germanic  metric,  viz.,  why  it  is  tKat 
while  only  like  consonants  alliterate  with  one  another,  any  one  vowel 
may  alliterate  with  any  other.  Real  alliteration  of  entirely  different 
vowels  is  of  course  an  impossibility.  The  very  term  alliteration  pre- 
supposes some  element  of  similarity  between  the  alliterating  sounds, 
and  from  the  days  of  Rapp  onwards  various  theories  have  been 
advanced  as  to  what  this  element  of  similarity  may  be. 

The  earliest  explanatory  theory  was  that  commonly  known  as  the 
glottal-catch  theory  which  said  that  the  element  of  similarity  consisted 
in  the  fact  that  all  initial  vowels  alike  in  the  Old  Germanic  languages 
began  with  a  well-marked  glottal  catch,  sufficiently  strong  to  make 
them  alliterate  one  with  another.  The  theory  of  a  universal  glottal 
catch  in  the  Old  Germanic  languages  is  non-proven,  and  perhaps  must 
always  remain  so  for  lack  of  evidence  for  or  against  it.  The  two  chief 
points  which  the  writer  of  this  study  makes  against  it  are  that  it  is 
difficult  to  see  how  the  glottal  catch  could  have  sufficient  phonetic 
distinctness  to  be  used  for  alliterative  purposes  by  men  of  the  average 
degree  of  phonetic  consciousness,  and  if  it  really  had  a  highly  distinc- 
tive quality  why  did  it  not  receive  the  honour  of  a  separate  symbol  like 
the  Hebrew  and  Arabic  spiritus  lenis  ?  The  second  theory  is  that  first 
advanced  by  Jiriczek,  viz.,  that  all  vowels  alike  have  a  certain  sonority 
which  distinguishes  them  from  consonants,  and  that  this  element  of 
sonority  marks  them  off  sufficiently  definitely  for  any  one  vowel  to  be 
allowed  to  alliterate  with  any  other  vowel  by  reason  of  its  distinctive 
sonority.  Mr  Classen  here  shows  that  the  theory  again  breaks  down 
because  we  can  hardly  imagine  the  average  man  to  have  sufficient 
phonetic  consciousness  to  feel  that  there  was  any  greater  phonetic 
similarity  between  the  vowels  i  and  a  than  between  the  consonants 
b  and  p,  indeed  the  similarity  is  acoustic  rather  than  phonetic. 

The  third  theory  is  that  advanced  by  the  Swedish  scholar  Axel  Kock, 
viz.,  that  alliterating  vowels  were  originally  identical  just  as  alliterating 
consonants  are,  but  that  the  vowels  were  more  subject  to  phonetic 
change,  and  that  as  a  result  we  get  first  traditional  alliterations,  i.e., 
alliterations  which  were  once  true  but  are  so  no  longer,  and  then,  under 


106  Reviews 

the  influence  of  these  traditional  alliterations,  fresh  alliterations  of 
vowels  which  have  never  been  identical.  At  the  same  time  new  identical 
alliterations  between  vowels  once  different  but  now  similar  (owing  to 
phonetic  change)  will  arise.  It  is  chiefly  in  support  of  this  theory  that 
the  present  study  has  been  written,  and  Mr  Classen  makes  an  elaborate 
study  of  practically  all  those  lines  of  Beowulf  which  show  vowel-allitera- 
tion, of  four  poems  from  the  Edda  and  of  some  1400  lines  of  the 
Heliand* with  a  view  to  testing  the  theory.  The  work  has  been  done 
with  great  thoroughness  and  accuracy,  and  the  results  are  favourable  to 
the  theory,  but  there  are  admittedly  several  factors  which  make  an 
exact  determination  of  percentages  impossible.  Chief  among  them  is 
the  impossibility  of  determining  whether  one  of  the  three  alliterating 
vowels  may  be  the  result  of  accident.  The  one  result  which  stands  out 
clear  beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt  is  that  there  always  was  a  prefer- 
ence for  identical  vowels  in  the  old  alliterative  poetry,  a  view  entirely 
opposed  to  that  commonly  taken. 

With  regard  to  the  theory,  as  a  whole,  two  criticisms  may  be  offered. 
First,  the  whole  theory  is  largely  dependent  on  the  question  of  how  far 
we  can  believe  the  phraseology  of  Germanic  poetry  to  have  been  tradi- 
tional from  the  days  when  the  vowels  existed  in  their  Primitive  Germanic 
form,  for  it  is  clear  that  none  of  our  poems  goes  back  in  any  shape  or 
form  to  a  period  anything  like  as  early  as  that.  Making  every  allow- 
ance for  the  evidence  for  the  existence  of  Germanic  poetry  from  the 
earliest  times  and  for  the  similarity  of  phrasing  which  exists  between 
the  poetry  of  the  various  Germanic  tongues  it  does  not  seem  that  there 
could  have  been  a  sufficient  body  of  traditional  poetic  phraseology  to 
justify  the  large  number  of  purely  traditional  alliterative  rhymes  which 
are  to  be  found  in  the  earliest  monuments.  Secondly,  the  theory 
of  original  identity  is  supported  by  the  quotation  of  certain  lines 
containing  what  the  author  calls  'approximately  identical'  vowels.  Thus 
any  vowel  in  the  series  a-te-e-i  may  be  considered  identical  with  its 
immediate  neighbour  for  purposes  of  alliteration,  i.e.,  a  may  alliterate  with 
#2  and  a?  with  e.  This  seems  to  assume  too  high  a  degree  of  phonetic 
consciousness  ;  when  once  you  depart  from  the  principle  of  absolute 
identity  the  untrained  ear  would  probably  see  no  more  reason  for 
alliterating  a  with  se  than  with  e.  If  you  once  allow  any  margin  of 
difference,  why  should  you  not  go  on  and  alliterate  such  sounds  as 
b  and  p  ? 

One  piece  of  evidence  in  support  of  their  theory  seems  to  have  been 
overlooked  by  the  upholders  of  the  identity  theory,  viz.,  the  existence  of 
traditional  consonant  alliteration  in  the  case  of  the  two  sounds  repre- 
sented by  each  of  the  symbols  c  and  g.  Here  the  traditional  allitera- 
tion was  maintained  after  the  sounds  had  developed  into  both  velar  and 
palatal  forms. 

One  slight  defect  in  the  book  must  be  mentioned.  The  somewhat 
lengthy  passages  quoted  in  the  Introduction  from  various  German 
writers  on  metric  should  have  been  translated  in  the  same  way  as  the 
passage  from  the  Swedish  of  Axel  Kock  is.  There  are  unfortunately 


Reviews  107 

many  students  of  Old  English  poetry,  who  are  not  familiar  with 
German,  and  it  is  a  pity  that  they  should  be  debarred  from  a  full 
understanding  of  a  book  which  is  full  of  interest  for  them. 

ALLEN  MAWER. 

NEWCASTLE-ON-TYNE. 


A  Phonetic  Dictionary  of  the  English  Language.  By  HERMANN 
MICHAELIS  and  DANIEL  JONES.  Hanover:  Carl  Meyer.  1913. 
8vo.  450  pp. 

This  is  a  work  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  pages  or  so,  very  clearly  printed, 
in  double  columns.  The  ordinary  words  of  the  English  vocabulary,  and 
many  others,  are  set  down  in  the  script  of  the  Association  Phonetique,  so 
as  to  indicate,  as  exactly  as  may  be,  the  received  pronunciation.  Thus 
the  book  should  be  useful  to  foreigners  and  others  who,  for  one  reason 
or  another,  are  ignorant  of  the  pronunciation  of  Standard  English. 
The  only  drawback  is,  that  many  persons  will  probably  be  unable  to 
find  the  word  they  want ;  not  because  it  is  not  in  the  book,  for  the 
vocabulary  is  copious  enough,  but  because  the  words  are  entered  under 
the  phonetic  spelling,  the  ordinary  spelling  being  given  after  this.  This 
means  that  the  reader  must  first  be  very  familiar  with  the  notation 
used,  and  next  must  know  the  pronunciation  of  the  word,  at  least  with 
close  approximation,  before  he  can  find  it.  If  he  knows  it,  why  should 
he  take  the  trouble  to  look  it  up  ?  Personally,  I  had  no  difficulty  in 
finding  any  word  I  sought,  but  then  I  am  not  altogether  unused  to  the 
various  methods  known  as  phonetic  notation,  whereby  the  appearance 
of  words  is  disguised.  For  practical  purposes,  would  it  not  have  been 
better  to  put  the  ordinary  spelling  first  ? 

One  praiseworthy  feature  of  the  book  is  that  the  pronunciation  of 
a  large  number  of  proper  names  is  given,  including  many  family  names. 
Another  good  point  is  that  in  the  case  of  all  words  the  pronunciations 
given,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  test,  by  taking  a  good  many  crucial 
words,  and  by  reading  through  many  consecutive  pages  in  various  parts 
of  the  book,  are  really  those  in  use  among  good  speakers,  and  not 
fanciful,  bogus  concoctions.  If  such  a  book  as  this  was  really  wanted, 
in  spite  of  the  innumerable  other  dictionaries,  published  here  and 
abroad,  giving  the  pronunciation  of  English,  then  this  is  a  good  and 
useful  book  of  its  kind,  apart  from  the  practical  drawback  noted  above. 

It  were  much  to  be  wished  that  foreign  publishers  would  stick,  or 
sew,  or  rivet  the  pages  of  their  books  together,  in  such  a  way  that 
they  do  not  tumble  to  pieces  on  being  opened.  The  copy  before  me  has 
paper  covers,  and  a  good  shake  would  reduce  it,  I  suppose,  to  several 
dozen  bits.  A  cloth-bound  copy,  on  the  other  hand,  which  I  owe  to  the 
generosity  of  the  publisher,  is  quite  strongly  fastened  together.  As  the 
latter  only  costs  one  mark  more  than  the  flimsy  paper  copy,  I  strongly 
recommend  intending  purchasers  to  get  the  book  in  its  bound  form. 

There  are  a  few  remarks  on  a  different  subject  of  a  rather  laughable 
character,  which  I  should  like  to  make  before  closing  this  short  notice. 


108  Reviews 

On  p.  vii  it  is  stated  that  *  the  phonetic  alphabet  used  in  this  book 
is  that  of  the  International  Phonetic  Association,  which  is  now  the  most 
widely  used  of  any  phonetic  system!  (The  italics  are  mine.)  A  footnote 
on  the  same  page  informs  us  that  'This  system  is  used  in  several 
hundred  books.  A  list  of  the  two  hundred  most  important  is  given  in  a 
booklet  entitled  the  Principles  of  the  International  Phonetic  Association 
(obtainable  from  D.  Jones,  University  College,  London,  W.  C.,  price  6cL).' 
At  the  end  of  the  Dictionary  is  a  '  List  of  Books,  etc.,  recommended  for 
the  study  of  English  pronunciation.'  Another  note  tells  us  'In  the 
books  marked  with  an  asterisk,  the  pronunciation  is  -represented  by 
means  of  the  alphabet  of  the  International  Phonetic  Association.'  Of 
the  twelve  books  cited  under  the  heading  '  Phonetic  Theory,'  only  two 
lack  the  asterisk — both  by  Sweet,  though  others  of  his  are  omitted. 
Of  the  nine  '  Phonetic  Readers,'  all  have  the  asterisk !  Of  the  eight 
'  Pronouncing  Dictionaries,'  four  lack  the  asterisk,  including  the  N.E.D. 
and  the  Concise  Oxford  Dictionary.  There  are  six  works  on  the  History 
of  English  Pronunciation  quoted,  including  Victor's  Shakespeare's 
Pronunciation,  which  is  in  two  volumes.  The  only  ones  without  the 
asterisk  are  Ellis'  Early  English  Pronunciation,  Sweet's  History  of 
English  Sounds,  and  a  humble  effort  of  my  own,  which  I  only  mention 
lest  it  should  be  thought  that  I  have  any  personal  grievance.  To  any 
one  familiar  with  the  '  literature '  of  this  subject,  this  list  must  appear 
somewhat  meagre,  in  all  its  departments.  The  number  of  asterisks 
may  also  strike  the  innocent  reader  as  remarkable,  and  still  more  so, 
the  conspicuous  absence  of  works  which  he  would  naturally  expect  to 
find.  If  he  is  ignorant  of  the  subject,  the  reader  will  naturally  suppose 
that  all  scholars  of  repute  use  the  alphabet  of  the  International 
Phonetic  Association.  What  an  important  Association !  It  has  all 
the  good  things  wholly  to  itself!  But  we  turn  back  to  p.  vii,  and  we 
begin  to  see  a  glimmering  of  light.  By  way  of  throwing  a  rather 
more  powerful  ray,  I  will  quote  a  passage  from  an  article  by  Schroer 
in  a  recent  number  of  the  Germanisch-romanische  Monatschrift,  see 
pp.  413 — 414  of  the  current  year. 

Victors  Bticher  und  Arbeiten  wird  man  immer  lesen  mid  verwerten,  ob  sie  die 
Transskriptionsweise  der  Association  Phonetique  verwenden  oder  nicht ;  was  an 
sich  wertvoll  ist,  wird  verwertet,  auch  wenn  der  Verfasser  es  einem  schwer  oder 
unbequem  macht.  Man  konnte  es,  und  sollte  es  auch  niemanden  verargen,  weun 
er  nicht  nur  aus  selbstvergessenem  Verzicht  auf  eine  eigerie  Transskriptionsweise, 
sondern  aus  Uberzeugung  von  der  Fiirtrefflichkeit  der  der  Association  Phonetique 
diese  uberall  anwendet  und  dafiir  wirbt.  Aber  ganz  anders  ist  es,  wenn  die 
wirkliche  oder  angebliche  Verwendung  der  Transskriptionsweise  der  Association 
Phonetique  als  besondere  Empfehlung,  ja  als  Empfehlung  mit  gewissermassen 
auschliessender  Bedeutung  geltend  gemacht  wird  !  Wenn  in  den  Prospekten  der 
Association  Phonetique  oder  im  *  Maltre  Phonetique '  kimterb'unt  Spreu  unter 
Weizen  allein  wegen  der  Transskriptionsweise  der  Association  Phonetique  als 
empfehlenswert  mit  Sternchen  versehen  wird,  wie  Jespersen  so  amiisant  hervor- 
gehoben  hat,-  oder  wenn  Jones  in  seinem  kiirzlich  erschienenen  Biichlein  '  Phonetic- 
Readings  in  English,'  unter  den  '  Books  etc.  Recommended  for  the  Study  of  English 
Pronunciation '  es  sorgfaltig  vermeidet,  wesentlich  anders  transskribierte  Werke  zu 
erwahnen,  so  ist  das  doch  eine  bedenkliche  Erscheinung,  sowohl  vom  Standpunkte 
der  Wissenschaft  als  auch  von  dem  der  Schulinteressen  !  Mit  dankenswerter 


Reviews 


109 


Oftenheit  versicherte  mich  in  Frankfurt  der  Namhafteste  unter  den  Anhangern  der 
Association  Phonetique,  dass  sie  fest  entschlossen  seien,  alles,  was  sich  nun  nicht 
fiigt,  zu  boykottieren  oder  zu  ignorieren,  d.  h.  sowohl  literarisch  totzuschweigen  als 
auch  von  den  Schulen  fernzuhalten.  Es  wird  daher  nach  diesem  Grundsatze  fur 
das  miserabelste  Machwerk  geniigen,  sich  der  Transskription  der  Association 
Phonetique  zu  bedienen  oder  wenigstens  zu  behaupten,  sich  zu  bedienen,  urn 
gunstiger  Aufnahme  und  Forderung  sicher  zu  sein,  so  wird  andrerseits  alles  andere, 
was  dieses  sacrificium  intellectus  nicht  raitmacht,  aus  dem  Gesichtskreise  der 
Phonetiker  und  Schulreformer  auszuscheiden  haben  ?  '  Roma  locuta — causa  nnita 
est.' 

I  have  not  the  remotest  idea  who  the  '  Namhafteste '  of  the  Associa- 
tion may  be.  He  has  probably  been  called  to  account  by  this  time  for 
the  engaging  candour  of  his  conversation  with  Professor  Schroer,  and 
I  hope  that  in  addition, '  his  own  thoughts  drive  him  like  a  goad  ! '  The 
revelation  is  pleasant.  '  A  nice  marality,  stap  my  vitals ! '  It  is  well 
that  the  sinister  plot  exposed  by  Professor  Schroer  should  be  thoroughly 
and  widely  shown  up.  It  may  be  doubted  whether  the  veto  of  the 
Association  would  influence  in  the  smallest  degree  the  opinion  of 
scholars,  but  an  ignorant  public  might  well  be  misled.  No  doubt  all 
the  respectable  members  of  the  Association  Phonetique,  and  Mr  Jones 
among  them,  will  repudiate  the  suggestion  that  they  would  participate 
in  any  such  policy  of  boycott  as  that  described.  But  it  must  be  very 
unpleasant  for  those  concerned  to  have  such  things  even  whispered 
about  at  Congresses. 

Meanwhile  scholars  of  the  standing  of  Mr  Jones — now  the  successor 
in  Oxford  of  a  very  great  man — should  avoid  the  faintest  suspicion  of 
countenancing  a  policy  which  it  would  be  very  difficult  to  speak  of  in 
measured  terms,  if  one  took  it  seriously.  But  I  prefer  to  look  at  it  in 
a  comic,  rather  than  a  tragic  light.  There  is  something  piquant  in  the 
idea  of  this  plot  which  is  '  given  away '  by  the  mysterious  yet  eminent 
person  referred  to  by  Professor  Schroer,  a  plot  cousu  de  fil  blanc,  and 
lighted  up  by  the  blazing  of  innumerable  stars,  throughout  the  pages, 
I  suppose,  of  most  of  the  'several  hundred  books '...a  list  of  which  is 
obtainable  from  Mr  Jones  for  the  modest  sum  of  sixpence ! 

Perhaps  Professor  Schroer  was  misinformed;  perhaps  the  excessive 
proportion  of  starred  books  over  non-starred,  and  the  total  omission  by 
Mr  Jones  of  other  well-known  authorities,  from  his  lists,  are  only 
coincidences ;  perhaps  the  use,  or  the  reverse,  by  a  writer,  of  a  particular 
method  of  transcription  has  not  weighed  with  Mr  Jones  in  his  choice  of 
books ;  perhaps  no  one  ever  proposed,  or  intended,  to  boycott  writers  who 
use  a  different  notation  from  that  of  the  Association.  Let  us  hope  that 
all  this  is  the  case.  If  so,  then  let  the  mare's  nest  be  destroyed. 
Everybody,  including  Professor  Schroer,  will,  I  am  sure,  be  charmed  to 
have  this  done  by  some  responsible  member  of  the  Association,  and  to 
find  that  for  the  future  there  is  nothing  in  the  works  emanating  from 
this  quarter,  which  suggests  for  a  moment  anything  to  the  contrary. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  things  remain  as  they  are,  perhaps  it  is  of  no 
great  consequence. 

H.  CECIL  WYLD. 
LIVERPOOL. 


110  Review* 


The  Treatment  of  Nature  in  English  Poetry  between  Pope  and  Words* 
worth.  By  MYR A  REYNOLDS.  Chicago:  University  Press.  1909. 
8vo.  388  pp. 

The  chief  shortcoming  in  this  book  lies  in  its  title.  Only  about  one 
half  of  the  volume  is  concerned  with  English  poetry :  the  rest  deals 
with  the  growing  interest  in  Nature  which  found  a  place  in  the  novel, 
in  works  of  travel,  in  gardening  and  in  landscape  painting,  during 
the  course  of  the  eighteenth  century.  It  will  thus  be  seen  that 
Miss  Reynolds  has- taken  a  comprehensive  view  of  her  subject.  Within 
the  last  generation  we  have  begun  to  learn  the  value  of  comparative 
criticism,  to  examine  the  literary  movements  of  any  given  nation  in 
relation  to  those  of  other  nations,  and  to  realise,  in  the  memorable 
words  of  Matthew  Arnold,  that  '  for  intellectual  and  spiritual  purposes, 
Europe  is  one  great  federation,  bound  to  a  joint  action  and  working  to 
a  common  purpose.'  In  this  volume  on  the  artistic  interpretation  of 
Nature,  another  form  of  comparative  criticism  has  been  attempted. 
Miss  Reynolds  is  not  interested  in  a  comparison  of  Thomson's  painting 
of  nature  and  country  life  with  that  of  Haller  or  Gessner,  nor  is  she 
concerned  with  the  influence  of  Rousseau  on  the  early  English  romantic 
poets ;  but,  with  admirable  discernment,  she  has  recognised  the  oneness 
of  the  artistic  impulse,  and  has  shown  us  that  poetry  was  only  one  of 
many  channels  along  which  new  currents  of  thought  and  feeling  flowed 
in  the  course  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Her  pages  help  us  to  see  that 
the  same  awakening  of  interest  in  the  beauty  or  sublimity  of  Nature 
which  appears  in  Thomson's  Winter  or  Cowper's  Task,  manifests  itself 
also  in  the  paintings  of  Gainsborough  arid  Richard  Wilson,  and  in  the 
garden-designs  of  '  Capability  Brown/  Ruskin's  Modern  Painters  first 
pointed  the  way  to  this  form  of  comparative  criticism,  and  further  pro- 
gress was  made  by  Alfred  Biese  in  his  Enttuickelung  des  Naturgefuhls 
im  Mittelalter  und  in  der  Neuzeit  (1892);  but  Miss  Reynolds,  working 
within  a  narrower  field,  has  been  able  to  apply  their  methods  with 
much  greater  thoroughness. 

Miss  Reynolds  passes  too  lightly  over  the  relation  of  the  artistic 
treatment  of  Nature  to  the  first  principles  of  a?sthetics,  and  has  nothing 
to  say  about  Burke's  ingenious,  if  perverse,  Essay  on  the  Sublime  and 
the  Beautiful ;  at  times,  too,  her  detailed  criticism  is  in  danger  of 
obscuring  the  broad  outlines  of  the  movement  which  she  is  tracing. 
But  we  owe  her  a  debt  of  gratitude  for  rescuing  from  oblivion  works 
which,  though  of  slight  intrinsic  value  in  themselves,  yet  indicate  the 
general  progress  of  taste  within  the  period.  In  this  connection  reference 
must  be  made  to  her  treatment  of  the  poets  of  the  Lake  District — John 
Dalton,  John  Brown,  John  Langhorne,  and  Richard  Cumberland,  who 
showed  a  very  real  appreciation  of  the  mountains,  lakes  and  streams  of 
Cumberland  and  Westmorland  while  Wordsworth  was  still  in  his  cradle. 
Generous  praise  is  given  to  the  much  decried  author  of  The  Mysteries 
of  Udolpho,  of  whom  Miss  Reynolds  says  that  '  no  poet  has  given  so 
much  of  the  real  forest  feeling  as  Mrs  Radcliffe,'  and  nothing  could  be 


Reviews  111 

more  helpful  in  indicating  the  change  of  feeling  towards  Nature  which 
came  over  artists  and  travellers  in  the  second  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century  than  our  author's  comparison  of  the  strictly  utilitarian  outlook 
of  Arthur  Young's  early  books  of  travel  with  the  enthusiastic  delight  in 
wild  and  romantic  landscapes  which  he  displays  in  the  records  of  his 
later  tours. 

In  conclusion,  the  best  wish  that  can  be  expressed  for  Miss  Reynolds' 
able  and  well-written  treatise  is  that  it  may  be  the  forerunner  of  other 
works  of  a  similar  nature,  in  which  something  of  the  same  catholicity  of 
taste  may  be  displayed,  and  the  intimate  relation  of  the  art  of  poetry 
to  kindred  arts,  and  more  particularly  to  that  of  painting,  be  recognised 
with  equal  discernment. 

F.  W.  MOORMAN. 

LEEDS. 


Masterpieces  of  the  English  Drama.  General  Editor,  FELIX  E.  SCHEL- 
LING.  New  York,  Cincinnati  and  Chicago :  American  Book 
Company.  1912.  8vo. 

Christopher  Marlowe.  With  Introduction  by  WILLIAM  LYON 
PHELPS.  426  pp.  Beaumont  and  Fletcher.  Edited  by 
FELIX  E.  SCHELLING.  414  pp.  Webster  and  Tourneur. 
With  Introduction  by  ASHLEY  H.  THORNDIKE.  464  pp. 
Philip  Massinger.  Edited  by  Lucius  A.  SHERMAN. 
416  pp.  William  Cong  r  eve.  With  Introduction  by 
WILLIAM  ARCHER.  466  pp. 

This  collection  of  volumes,  containing  select  plays  of  the  leading 
English  dramatists  (apart  from  Shakespeare)  with  introductions  and 
notes,  more  or  less  resembles  the  well-known  '  Mermaid  Series ' ;  but 
as  no  more  than  a  single  volume  is  allotted  to  any  one  author,  the 
number  of  plays  selected  is  in  some  cases  much  smaller.  A  single 
volume  is  enough  to  contain  all  that  is  of  first  importance  in  Marlowe's 
or  Congreve's  dramatic  work,  and  something  less  than  a  volume  will 
perhaps  serve  for  Webster ;  but  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  are  very 
inadequately  represented  by  four  plays,  and  the  same  may  be  said, 
though  rather  less  emphatically,  of  Massinger.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
allowance  of  notes  is  much  more  generous  than  in  the  Mermaid  editions. 

The  Marlowe  volume  includes,  as  we  have  said,  all  that  is  essential, 
the  two  parts  of  Tamburlaine,  Doctor  Faustus  (only  in  the  shorter  form, 
however),  The  Jew  of  Malta  and  Edward  the  Second.  The  introduction 
by  Professor  Phelps  is  sufficient.  We  are  not  told  who  is  responsible 
for  the  text  and  notes,  and  the  former  at  least  can  hardly  be  regarded 
as  entirely  satisfactory.  It  is  noted  that  '  Editorial  interpolations  in 
the  way  of  readings  have  in  all  cases  been  enclosed  in  double  brackets.' 
On  examination,  however,  we  find  that  this  is  only  the  case  where 
a  word  is  inserted  by  conjecture ;  other  variations  of  text  without 
original  authority  are  admitted  without  any  distinctive  mark.  In  the 


112  Reviews 


of  these  cases  is  the  editorial  deviation  marked,  and  in  most  of  them 
it  is  not  justifiable.  (In  in,  2,  89,  'of  monstrous  rock/  and  111,  'with 
his  horse,'  it  may  be  supposed  that  we  have  to  do  with  misprints.) 

Professor  Schelling  is  the  editor  of  the  Beaumont  and  Fletcher, 
and  we  have  no  quarrel  with  it  except  the  limitation  in  scope  of  the 
selection.  The  plays  given  are  Philaster,  The  Maid's  Tragedy,  The 
Faithful  Shepherdess  and  Bonduca,  and  the  editor .  admits  that  the 
'  endeavour  to  represent  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  adequately  by  the 
choice  of  four  plays  is  a  hopeless  one.'  He  consequently  abandons  the 
attempt  to  represent  the  comedies  altogether.  Accepting  this  limitation, 
we  can  only  say  that  it  seems  a  pity  to  omit  A  King  and  No  King  in 
any  selection  from  Beaumont  and  Fletcher.  The  editor,  however,  has 
worked  in  a  competent  manner  within  the  limits  imposed  by  the  plan 
of  the  series. 

Webster  and  Tourrieur  appear  together  with  an  introduction  by 
Professor  Thorndike,  which  gives  an  interesting  account  of  the  type  of 
tragedy  to  which  the  plays  of  Webster  belong.  Webster  is  here  repre- 
sented by  The  White  Devil,  The  Duchess  of  Malfi  and  Appius  and 
Virginia',  Tourneur  by  The  Revengers  Tragedy  only.  Appius  and 
Virginia  might  well  have  been  omitted.  The  editor  justly  remarks 
that  it  is  not  characteristic  of  Webster,  and  in  fact  it  is  probably  not  his. 
This  omission  would  have  made  room  for  The  Atheist's  Tragedy,  the  only 
extant  play  which  is  ascribed  to  Tourneur  on  contemporary  evidence. 
The  metrical  characteristics  of  The  Revenger  s  Tragedy  are  indeed  so 
different,  that  *  it  is  difficult  to  suppose  that  these  two  plays  are  by  the 
same  author.  Incidentally  we  may  observe  that  The  Atheist's  Tragedy 
is  by  no  means  such  a  poor  performance  as  the  editor  seems  to  suggest. 
On  what  grounds  does  he  say  that  it  was  '  acted  about  1603  '  (p.  14)  ? 

The  volume  of  Massinger  includes  The  Roman  Actor,  The  Maid  of 
Honour,  A  New  Way  to  pay  Old  Debts,  and  Believe  as  You  List.  In  the 
place  of  this  last  it  might  have  been  better  to  select  The  City  Madam. 
The  account  of  Massinger's  dramatic  career  given  in  the  introduction 
can  hardly  be  considered  satisfactory.  Professor  Sherman  here  suggests 
a  difficulty  in  accounting  sufficiently  for  the  dramatist's  activity  during 
the  first  years  of  his  life  in  London,  and  leaves  out  of  account  almost 
entirely  the  fact  that  from  1612  to  1625  (when  Fletcher  died)  he  must 
have  been  almost  constantly  engaged  in  producing  that  important  part 
of  his  dramatic  work  which,  owing  to  his  own  characteristic  modesty, 
passed,  and  still  passes,  under  the  name  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 
The  editor  does  not  seem  at  all  to  appreciate  the  fact  that  his  joint 
authorship  of  a  large  number  of  these  plays  can  be  proved  by  quite 
unmistakeable  evidences  of  style — apart  from  the  external  testimony  of 
his  friends — and  that  the  portions  written  by  Massinger  can  for  the  most 
part  be  clearly  distinguished. 

Congreve  is  represented  by  his  three  principal  comedies  together 


Reviews  113 

with  The  Mourning  Bride.  The  notes  are  too  elementary.  Readers  of 
Congreve  surely  do  not  need  to  be  told  who  Judas  Maccabeus  was,  or  to 
have  the  epithet  '  Machiavelian '  explained  to  them.  In  many  respects, 
however,  the  notes  are  really  useful,  especially  as  regards  the  localities 
of  London  in  the  seventeenth  century  ;  and  Mr  Archer's  introduction 
gives  us  an  interesting  and  valuable  appreciation  of  the  spirit  of 
Congreve's  comedy,  as  compared  with  that  of  the  rising  school  repre- 
sented by  Farquhar  and  Steele.  He  discusses  also  at  considerable 
length  the  reason  for  the  comparative  failure  on  their  first  production  of 
The  Doable  Dealer  and  The  Way  of  the  World.  The  answer  is  a  very 
simple  one,  however.  With  all  their  brilliancy  of  character-drawing  and 
dialogue,  they  are  badly-constructed  plays,  and  badly  constructed  in 
such  a  way  as  to  puzzle  both  audiences  and  readers.  Congreve's  defence 
of  The  Double  Dealer  shows  clearly  that  he  was  aware  of  its  weaj: 
points :  '  I  must  take  the  boldness  to  say,  I  have  not  miscarried  in  the 
whole;  for  the  mechanical  part  of  it  is  regular. ..I  made  the  plot  as 
strong  as  I  could,  because  it  was  single  ;  and  I  made  it  single,  because 
I  would  avoid  confusion,  and  was  resolved  to  preserve  the  three  unities 
of  the  drama.'  Mr  Archer's  remark  upon  the  play  is  a  good  comment 
on  this:  'What  wonder  if  audiences  were  at  first  baffled  and  fatigued 
by  the  effort  to  follow  the  outs  and  ins  of  this  labyrinthine  plot  ! ' 

In  spite  of  the  weak  points  which  we  have  noted,  this  seems  to  be 
on  the  whole  a  very  useful  series  for  practical  purposes,  and  no  doubt  will 
have  a  wide  circulation. 

G.  C.  MACAULAY. 

CAMBRIDGE. 


Essays  and  Criticisms  by  Thomas  Gray.  Edited  by  CLARK  SUTHER- 
LAND NORTHUP.  (Belles  Lettres  Series.)  Boston  and  London : 
Heath.  1909.  8vo.  liii  +  378pp. 

A  volume  which  aims  at  presenting  in  a  convenient  form  Gray's 
critical  prose  is  one  which  will  commend  itself  to  many  readers,  and 
Dr  Northup's  attempt  at  bringing  together  his  scattered  material  has 
resulted  in  a  most  interesting  and  useful  little  volume.  Such  a  collec- 
tion was  bound  to  be  disconnected  and  fragmentary.  One  section  of 
the  material,  the  remarks  on  metre  and  rhyme,  on  Lydgate  and  Daniel 
for  instance,  was  originally  intended  to  form  part  of  Gray's  proposed 
History  of  English  Poetry :  the  rest,  drawn  from  his  letters,  represents 
the  stray  utterances  of  the  poet  on  the  literary  work  of  his  day.  Taken 
altogether,  however,  they  form  a  well-chosen  selection  of  passages, 
giving  a  clear  idea  of  Gray's  critical  achievement,  and  the  work  will 
undoubtedly  be  welcomed  as  a  useful  contribution  to  the  study  of 
English  criticism. 

Dr  Northup,  it  may  be  noted,  has  compiled  his  volume  with  the 
general  reader  in  view,  and  as  a  result,  his  editorial  work  errs,  if 
anything,  on  the  side  of  liberality.  It  may,  for  instance,  be  doubted 


M.  L.  R.  IX. 


114  Reviews 

whether  a  detailed  sketch  of  the  poet's  life  was  needed  in  a  work  of 
this  kind,  or  whether  notes  on  Bishop  Hall's  Satires  and  Dr  Donne 
were  necessary  for  the  intelligent  reading  of  the  text.  But  apart  from 
this,  the  assistance  so  generously  given,  is  undoubtedly  of  a  most 
helpful  kind.  The  editor  has  spared  no  labour  in  explaining  the  less 
familiar  allusions  in  his  text  and  in  placing  the  reader  in  the  position 
of  Gray's  contemporaries :  and  while  his  comments  'throughout  are 
eminently  judicious  and  scholarly,  the  carefully  drawn-up  Index  at  the 
end  bears  the  same  marks  of  thoroughness  and  sound  judgment. 

It  is,  however,  in  his  appreciation  of  Gray's  work  as  a  critic  that 
the  editor  falls  short  of  the  possibilities  of  his  subject,  and  one  would 
willingly  have  foregone  some  of  the  less  relevant  details  for  a  more 
adequate  discussion  of  Gray's  actual  performance.  Thus  the  attempt 
to  place  Gray  in  the  critical  development  cannot  be  said  to  have  been 
wholly  successful.  Something  more  was  surely  needed  than  an  indica- 
tion of  those  earlier  tendencies  from  which  he,  as  it  were,  revolted. 
His  departure  from  the  neoclassical,  the  rationalistic,  and  the  moralistic 
standards  of  the  seventeenth  century  critics  was,  of  course,  a  point  which 
had.  to  be  made  quite  clear,  though  Dr  Northup's  summary  treatment 
of  this  matter  seems  likely  to  make  serious  demands  upon  the  general 
reader.  But  Gray  had  also  affinities  with  some  of  those  earlier  critics, 
and  these  also  it  was  necessary  to  bring  out.  He  may,  in  fact,  be  said 
to  carry  on  the  tradition  of  the  earlier  'school  of  taste,'  for  he  would 
have  agreed  with  Howard  and  Dryden,  St  Evremond,  Mere,  and  a  host 
of  others,  that  judgment  in  literature  depended  after  all  upon  literary 
'  taste.'  His  judgment  was  undoubtedly  based  on  impression,  not  rules  : 
what  he  looked  for  in  literature  was  an  emotional,  a  moving,  power: 
and  like  Temple  he  was  prepared  to  seek  it  in  our  earlier  native 
literature.  His  position  would,  moreover,  have  been  yet  more  clearly 
denned  by  some  indication  of  the  relation  in  which  he  stood  to  later 
critics  like  Kurd,  Warton  arid  Young.  As  it  is,  this  section  of  the 
Introduction  must  be  said  to  be  wanting  in  grip,  a  remark  which  holds 
true  also  of  the  section  which  follows,  in  which  Gray's  qualities  as  a 
critic  are  briefly  analysed.  To  note  Gray's  disinterestedness,  his  sound 
scholarship,  wide  sympathies  and  sense  of  humour,  is  to  give  but  an 
inadequate  account  of  those  qualities  which  made  him  a  critic.  Along 
with  these  things  there  went  a  singularly  sensitive  mind,  a  fastidious 
taste,  and  above  all,  a  most  happy  gift  of  expression,  from  which  was 
derived  so  much  of  the  charm  of  his  remarks.  In  a  few  lines  he  could 
communicate  the  flavour  of  a  work  or  hit  off  in  as  many  words  the 
features  of  a  favourite :  and  his  sense  of  humour  which,  without  doubt, 
gave  sanity  to  his  judgment,  with  equal  certainty  added  spice  to  his 
manner  of  expression.  Thus  he  followed  Dryden  in  making  criticism 
an  attractive  business,  by  infusing  a  personal  element  into  what  he 
wrote.  And  in  this  connection  the  very  form  of  his  work  is  not  without 
its  significance.  In  place  of  the  formal  essays  and  treatises  of  an  earlier 
generation  we  have  here  the  letters  of  a  man  of  taste  dealing  with 
literature  in  the  concrete  for  the  amusement  of  himself  and  his 


Previews  115 

intimates.  Occasionally  he  drops  remarks  upon  such  matters  as  the 
Chorus  or  the  use  of  technical  language  in  poetry,  but  we  are  worlds 
away  from  the  arid  discussions  of  the  preceding  century.  It  is  with 
actual  literature  that  he  chooses  to  deal,  and  we  of  a  later  age  can 
commend  his  hoe-work  as  he  wages  war  with  the  weeds  of  undue 
personifications  and  descriptions  and  meaningless  diction  in  poetry. 

Dr  Northup,  then,  is  not  seen  at  his  best  in  the  sections  which  deal 
with  these  particular  matters,  though  that  does  not  seriously  detract 
from  the  value  of  his  work.  To  have  given  to  the  student  in  a  handy 
form  the  material  for  forming  his  own  conclusions  would  in  itself  have 
been  a  useful  piece  of  work.  Presented  as  it  is  here  with  much  scholarly 
care,  that  material  becomes  yet  more  full  of  meaning.  And  it  may 
confidently  be  said  that  his  volume  will  be  appreciated  by  more  than 
one  class  of  reader,  and  will  help  to  throw  light  on  a  none  too  familiar 
side  of  Gray's  literary  activity. 

J.  W.  H.  ATKINS. 

ABERYSTWYTH. 


The  Oxford  Book  of  Victorian  Verse.     Chosen  by  ARTHUR  QUILLER- 
COUCH.     Oxford :   Clarendon  Press.     1912.     8vo.     xv +  1021  pp. 

Lovers  of  poetry  must  ever  be  grateful  to  Sir  Arthur  Quiller-Couch 
for  inaugurating  the  excellent  series  of  Oxford  Books  of  Verse  by  the 
best  anthology  of  English  Verse  ever  made.  Now  he  has  added  to  our 
debt  by  compiling  a  volume  of  Victorian  poetry — gracefully  dedicated 
to  his  future  friends  and  pupils  at  the  sister  university.  The  difficulties 
of  such  a  task  must  necessarily  be  sufficient  to  stagger  the  stoutest 
courage :  as  the  editor  himself  confesses  in  his  most  disarming  of 
prefaces,  it  '  is  less  of  a  difficulty  than  an  impossibility :  since  he  who 
attempts  on  his  contemporaries  such  assaying  as  these  pages  imply, 
attempts  what  no' man  can  do.'  Moreover  Professor  Quiller-Couch  was 
confronted  by  the  further  problems,  first  of  determining  the  exact  limits 
of  the  '  Victorian '  period,  and  secondly  of  deciding  whether  or  no  to 
include  in  this  volume  poems  which  had  already  found  a  place  in  the 
earlier  anthology.  In  both  cases  he  decided  boldly  and  wisely.  He 
has  used  the  term  Victorian  as  freely  as  we  use  the  term  Elizabethan, 
and  with  the  same  fundamental  soundness  of  judgment;  and  he  has 
refused  to  exclude  poems  which  he  had  used  before,  and  so  to  condemn 
himself  to  anthologizing  the  second-rate  and  clearing  the  ground  for  an 
'  Oxford  Book  of  Worst  Verse.'  The  result  is  a  catholic  collection  of 
poems,  ranging  from  those  of  Walter  Savage  Landor,  whose  first  volume 
of  poems  was  published  more  than  forty  years  before  Queen  Victoria 
came  to  the  throne,  down  to  those  of  such  '  Georgians '  as  Mr  Masefield 
and  Mr  Alfred  Noyes.  Wordsworth  and  his  immediate  circle  are 
omitted,  as  belonging  to  the  former  age. 

The  love  of  anthologies  is  no  new  thing.  From  King  Alfred  down- 
wards men  have  delighted  in  collecting  passages  from  their  favourite 
authors,  and  there  is  always  a  certain  interest  in  seeing  in  what 


116  Reviews 

directions  lie  the  tastes  of  others.  We  like  to  have  the  hall-mark  of 
;i  scholar's  approval  set  upon  our  own  favourites,  and  the  omission 
of  some  poems  which  we  should  have  included,  and  inclusion  of  some 
which  we  should  have  omitted,  is  no  more  than  the  addition  of  that 
personal  equation  which  gives  a  living  interest  to  all  forms  of  criticism. 
To  wander  round  so  rich  and  varied  a  flower-garden  with  '  Q '  to  call 
our  attention  to  this  blossom  and  that,  to  point  out  a  delicate  rock- 
plant  there  and  a  bed  of  lilies  here,  is  an  ideal  occupation  for  a  summer's 
day.  These  are  not  fields  of  asphodel  trodden  by  the  immortals, 
but  pleasant  paths  winding  among  the  freshness  and  fragrance  of  an 
English  garden  in  May.  Never  since  the  great  outburst  of  song  in  the 
seventeenth  century  has  there  been  so  large  a  number  of  poets — minor 
poets  it  may  be,  but  with  lips  that  have  been  touched  by  a  coal 
from  the  divine  altar.  Victorian  lyrics  lack  something  of  the  direct- 
ness and  spontaneity  of  the  Elizabethan  songs ;  nor  have  they  the 
intensity  of  awe  and  rapture  which  marks  the  hymns  of  Vaughan  or 
Crashaw ;  but  their  delicacy  of  workmanship,  their  obvious  sincerity 
and  tenderness  have  a- peculiar  charm  of  their  own.  Now  and  then  we 
find  a  song  of  frank  happiness  such  as  Dean  Beeching's  Going  down  Hill 
on  a  Bicycle  or  a  call  to  arms  such  as  Drakes  Dram,  but  for  the  most 
part  even  in  such  as  these  there  is  a  note  of  melancholy,  a  resolute 
courage  which  is  determined  to  be  master  of  its  fate,  rather  than  a  gay 
delight  in  adventure.  On  the  whole  the  selections  show  a  rather  curious 
sameness  of  tone  considering  how  many  decades  they  cover.  The  latest 
developments  of  English  verse,  such  as  Mr  Masefield's  narrative  poems, 
could  obviously  not  be  included  in  an  anthology  of  this  sort ;  we  cannot 
tell  whither  this  new  spirit  is  calling  us,  and  while  we  feel  the  future 
full  of  promise  we  do  not  know  what  the  fulfilment  may  be.  Meanwhile 
the  poets  of  the  last  hundred  years,  Irish,  English,  Scottish,  American, 
show  close  kinship  one  with  another.  Imperialist  and  socialist,  lover  of 
nature  and  cockney-bred,  they  are  all  sons  and  daughters  of  one  age, 
an  age  which  cares  intensely  for  accuracy  in  little  things,  which  loves 
to  dwell  on  the  beauty  of 

Rose  plot 

Fringed  pool 

Fern  grot — 
or  note  how7 

The  frost  was  on  the  village  roofs  as  white  as  ocean  foam ; 
The  good  red  fires  were  burning  bright  in  every  'longshore  home. 
The  windows  sparkled  clear,  and  the  chimneys  volley'd  out ; 
And  I  vow  we  sniflf'd  the  victuals  as  the  vessel  went  about, — 

which  has  infinite  tenderness  for  ail  things  young  and  helpless,  but 
tends  to  mingle  the  thought  of  death  with  that  of  life ;  and  above  all, 
an  age  of  deep,  if  not  passionate,  religious  emotion  : 

All  dies; 

L'o,  how  all  dies !  O  seer, 

And  all  things  too  arise: 

All  dies  and  all  is  born  ; 

But  each  resurgent  morn,  behold  more  near  the  Perfect  Morn. 


Reviews  117 

*  For  my  part/  says  the  editor,  '  I  rise  from  the  task  in  reverence 
and  wonder  not  only  at  the  mass  (not  easily  sized)  of  poetry 
written  with  ardour  in  these  less-than-a-hundred  years,  but  at  the 
amount  of  it  which  is  excellent,  and  the  height  of  some  of  that  excellence  ; 
in  some  exultation  too,  as  I  step  aside  and... gaze  after  the  stream  of 
young  runners  with  their  torches.' 

GRACE  E.  HADOW. 

ClRENCBSTER. 


La  Vie  de  St  Rend,  poeme  du  xiiie  siecle,  par  Richier.  Publie  pour  la 
premiere  fois  d'apres  deux  MSS.  de  la  Bibliotheque  Royale  de 
Bruxelles.  Par  W.  N.  BOLDERSTON.  London :  Henry  Frowde. 
1912.  8vo.  356  pp. 

La  disposition  generale  des  matieres,  dans  cette  edition,  me  parait 
bonne.  II  y  a  d'abord  une  introduction  (pp.  5-38)  qui  comprend  une 
courte  vie  de  St  Remi,  puis  les  renseignements  sur  les  MSS.  du  poeme, 
sur  1'auteur,  sur  les  sources,  sur  la  versification,  sur  le  dialecte,  le  tout 
suivi  d'une  bibliographic  concise  et  de  deux  appendices  dont  le  premier 
rapproche  les  vv.  1520  sq.  de  la  Vie  de  St  Remi  du  passage  qui  lui 
correspond  dans  la  Vita  beati  Remigii  de  Hincmar  et  le  second  contient 
la  Visio  Karoli  Calvi  d'apres  BN  lat.  12710  corrige  en  quelques  endroits 
a  1'aide  de  BN  lat.  14117.  Les  8234  vers  de  la  Vie  de  St  Remi 
occupent  les  pp.  39-338.  Viennent  ensuite  une  analyse  et  des  notes 
(pp.  339-346),  un  glossaire  (pp.  347-351),  enfin  une  table  des  noms 
propres  (pp.  352-356). 

Mais  si  la  disposition  generale  des  matieres  est  bonne,  on  n'en  pent 
dire  autant  du  traitement  de  ces  matieres.  D'une  fagon  generale,  tout 
ce  qui  concerne  1'etude  de  la  langue  du  texte — et  c'est  pour  une  edition 
comme  celle  que  nous  avons  sous  les  yeux  un  point  capital — a  ete  fait 
d'une  facon  trop  sommaire  et  trop  negligente.  Je  m'arrete,  par 
exemple,  a  ce  qui  est  dit  du  dialecte  aux  pp.  19  sq.  et  pour  ne  pas 
prendre  trop  de  place,  je  me  bornerai  a  critiquer  ce  qui  se  rapporte  aux 
voyelles  (pp.  19-21).  '  A  developpe  quelquefois  un  i...'  nous  dit-on, 
'  surtout  devant  n  mouillee.'  Mais  \'i  de  montaigne  etc.  n'est  pas  autre 
chose  qu'une  graphic  qu'on  trouve  aussi  dans  le  francais  normal1  et  qui 
indique  le  mouillement  de  la  nasale.  '  Au  devient  a  dans  mavais  2660, 
as  1182,  ara  5936.'  Mais  voila  d'abord  des  cas  fort  differents.  Et  puis 
as  n'est  pas  pour  uri  anterieur  aus ;  c'est  as  qui,  comme  dans  le  frarigais 
normal,  est  primitif.  De  meme  ara,  n'est  pas  pour  aura,  c'est  une 
forme  des  dialectes  du  N.  Est  qui  correspond  au  fr.  normal  aura.  '  Ei 
est  devenu  i  dans  chair  4344.'  Non  pas:  chmr, che'ir  est  un  doublet  de 
cheeir  dont  1'origine  doit  etre  analogique.  'E  (du  latin  a  libre  et 
accentue)  s'ecrit  tant6t  e,  tantot  ei...'  C'est  juste;  mais  pourquoi  citer 
parmi  les  exemples  :  decreit  1050  ?  Les  constatations  faites  pour  les 

1  Mr  Bolderston  fait  preceder  ses  remarques  sur  les  voyelles  par  la  phrase:    'Nous 
faisons  la  comparaison  avec  le  franQais  normal.' 


118  Reviews 

voyelles  toniques  se  reduisent  a  peu  de  chose  ;  pour  les  voyelles  atones 
a  peu  pres  a  rien  du  tout.  '  E  muet  s'e'crit  une  fois  oi  dans  demoustroi- 
rnent  2380.'  Au  vers  2380  on  lit  demon stroison  et  le  MS  B  ecrit, 
parait-il,  demon  strision.  Que  faut-il  en  penser  ?  '  Ai,  ei,  oi,  i  s'ecrivent 
indifferemment... '  Non  pas  :  on  trouve  bien  signor,  grignor  mais  non 
pas  soignor,  groignor.  '  E  et  a  devant  r  et  v  avaient,  je  crois,  une  pro- 
nonciation  mixte  entre  les  deux  sons...'  Devant  r,je  veux  bien;  cela  se 
retrouve  en  fran9.  normal;  mais  devant  v  c'est  autre  chose  et  les  exemples 
cites  grevee  :  eslavee  299-300,  eslava  1778  ne  prouvent  rien  ;  c'est  Mr  B. 
qui  1'a  dit  lui-meme  (p.  19) :  'la  plupart  des  rimes  sont  doubles,  mais  il 
serait  dangereux  de  baser  la-dessus  des  conclusions  sur  la  qualite  des 
voyelles  penultiemes.'  '0  est  devenu  e  dans  dener...et  enor!.  Pour 
enor,  il  s'agit  d'une  dissimilation  du  premier  o  de  honorem.  Mais  pour 
dener,  je  n'y  crois  guere.  Mr  B.  cite:  dena:  amena  1839-90;  donner : 
pener  2009-10;  denee  2588.  Donner:  pener  ne  prouve  rien;  denee  a 
ete  corrige  au  vers  2588  en  devee ;  enfin  dena  de  1889  peut  tres  bien, 
devant  donna  du  MS  B,  etre  corrige  en  dona.  '  U  devient  ou  devant  une 
voyelle :  louissiaus  1727;  moez  1772  mais  muer  1501;  mouire  3462 
(MS  B  ecrit  muire) ;  fouir  3383  ;  bouiron  6266.'  Je  donnerai  plus  loin 
mes  raisons  pour  corriger  louissiaus  1727  en  loinsiaus',  moez  1772  a  et6 
corrige  dans  le  texte  en  moez  et  n'a  done  rien  a  faire  avec  muer',  au  v. 
3462  la  le^on  muire  du  MS  B  est  la  bonne  (le  mot  rime  avec  destruire) ; 
dans  les  deux  autres  cas  la  voyelle  est  atone.  '  B  devient  u  dans  ausolu 
4231  mais  absolue  6478.'  Une  remarque  analogue  sur  P  se  trouve  a  sa 
place  dans  la  discussion  sur  les  consonnes.  D'apres  ces  quelques 
remarques,  on  pourra  apprecier  la  valeur  des  quelques  pages  que  Mr  B. 
consacre  au  dialecte  de  son  auteur. 

La  Vie  de  St  Remi  est  censee  etre  de  la  deuxieme  moitie  du  xiiie 
siecle.  Le  texte  a  ete  etabli  sur  le  MS  A  (MS  Brux.,  Bibl.  Roy.,  6409) 
ecrit  vers  1300.  Les  variantes,  citees  au  bas  de  la  page,  sont,  sauf  ex- 
ception, celles  du  MS  B  (MS  Brux.;  Bibl.  Roy.,  5365),  ecrit  vers  1360. 
D'une  facon  generale,  la  transcription  du  texte  parait  avoir  ete  faite  avec 
un  certain  soin.  II  faudrait  corriger  ademutierent  530  en  ademucierent 
(Godefroy  a  mucier,  demucier  mais  non  ademucier)',  coingnie':  empoingnie 
4339-40  en  coingnie :  empoingnie ;  provence  5503  en  Provence ;  costeil 
7394  en  costeit.  N'ayant  pas  a  ma  disposition  les  MSS  dont  s'est  servi 
Mr  B.,  il  m'est  impossible  d'aller  beaucoup  plus  loin  dans  la  critique  de 
la  transcription  du  texte  que  je  me  vois  force  de  laisser  a  d'autres.  Je 
me  contente  done  de  dire  que,  dans  ce  long  poeme,  il  reste  encore  des 
passages  peu  clairs,  du  moins  dans  leur  syntaxe,  cf.  vv.  5563-5. 

Pour  la  partie  du  livre  de  Mr  Bolderston  qu'il  intitule  :  Analyse  et 
notes,  on  peut  y  trouver  trois  parties :  (a)  une  analyse  du  poeme  qui  est 
des  plus  sommaires,  accompagnee  de  renvois  au  texte  de  Flodoard  et  de 
Hincmar ;  (b)  quelques  notes  ou  Mr  Bolderston  fait  des  rapprochements, 
d'ailleurs  peu  probants,  entre  divers  passages  de  la  Vie  de  tit  Remi  et  des 
passages  qui  proviennent  surtout  des  osuvres  de  Chrestien  de  Troyes  et 
de  Raoul  de  Houdenc;  (c)  quelques  rares  notes  d'ordre  philologique — ily 
en  a  dix,  je  crois,  sur  des  mots  qu'on  lit  au  vv.  7,  211,  984,  2629,  4147, 


Reviews  119 

4794,  4964,  6051,  7066,  7093.  Toutes  ou  presque  toutes  auraient  du 
trouver  leur  place  au  glossaire.  En  effet  six  de  ces  notes  consistent 
a  nous  dire  qu'aubre,  engluer,  parfaissement,  deespis,  rengrignorir, 
escrinolet,  ne  sont  pas  dans  Godefroy  ou  d'autres  dictionnaires.  Encore 
faut-il  noter  qu'engltter  est  dans  Godefroy,  mais  parce  que  c'est  un  mot 
du  fran£ais  moderne,  atteste  d'ailleurs  depuis  le  xiie  siecle,  il  faut  le 
chercher  au  Complement. 

La  partie  qui  m'aurait  le  plus  interesse  mais  malheureusement 
aussi  la  partie  la  plus  faible  de  cette  edition,  c'est  le  glossaire  qui  ne 
cornporte  que  cinq  pages  a  peine.  Je  crois  qu'il  est  juste  de  dire  que 
dans  1'edition  princeps  d'un  texte  en  vieux  fran9ais  de  8234  vers  on 
s'attend  a  davantage.  Mais  le  glossaire  prete  a  la  critique  de  bien 
d'autres  facons.  On  peut  considerer  comme  fautes  d'irnpression  orchel 
pour  orchal,  7758,  et  louisiaus  pour  louissiaus  1727,  car  on  troupe 
orchal,  louissiaus  dans  le  texte.  Cependant  pour  louisiaus  le  doute  vient 
a  Fesprit  en  lisant  dans  le  glossaire ;  '  louisiaus,  luisel,  s.m.  1727 
lumiere.'  On  peut  y  voir  un  effort  pour  rapprocher  louissiaus  de  luisel 
'  lueur'  dont  Godefroy  ne  donne  qu'un  exemple,  et  qu'on  ne  trouve  pas 
dans  le  texte  de  la  Vie  de  St  Remi.  En  effet  si  Ton  se  reporte  au  texte, 
on  trouve  que  le  sens  de  '  lumiere '  ne  convient  nullement.  Les 
vv.  1726-7  : 

Et  celle  tempeste  apesant 

Qui  par  louissiaus  s'amonceloit, 

veulent  dire  :  '  et  apaisant  cet  orage  qui  s'amoncelait  en  grosses  masses  ' 
ou  quelque  chose  de  semblable ;  et  il  faut  voir  dans  louissiaus  le  mot 
loissiaus  ou  peut-etre  loinsiaus,  puisque  c'est  la  forme  de  predilection 
de  1'auteur  (voir  les  vv.  7666,  7749,  8114),  et  lui  attribuer  le  sens  de 
'  pelotons '  (cf.  Godefroy  a  luissel). 

Cela  mene  a  dire  que  les  erreurs  d 'interpretation  sont  par  trop 
nombreuses.  C'est  ainsi  qu'on  lit  au  glossaire  :  '  aers,  6771  en  arriere  ' 
(si  Ton  se  reporte  au  v.  6771,  on  voit  qu'aers  est  le  part,  passe  d'aerdre 
et  veut  dire  'attache,  fixe');  '  bondon,  s.m.,  1581,  ventre'  (un  coup 
d'oeil  au  v.  1581  prouve  qu'il  s'agit  du  fr.  bondon  '  bonde  de  tonneau ') ; 
'  briconie,  s.f.,  5563,  acte  lache,  coquin '  (que  vient  faire  ici  coquin  ? 
faut-il  comprendre  d'un  coquin  ?  une  briconie  est  un  acte  de  bricon,  c.a.d. 
de  fou) ;  '  damz,  s.m.,  5660,  dommage,  malheur '  (au  passage  indique 
dame  veut  dire  '  maitresse  ') ;  'descochier,  7030,  decharger '  (c'est  le  fr. 
decocher  pris  au  sens  absolu) ;  '  despoise,  7786,  matiere '  (au  v.  7786 
despoise  indique  un  melange  de  cuivre  et  d'argent  pour  diminuer  le 
poids  et  la  valeur  de  la  monnaie) ;  'dileution,  s.f.,  1095,  delices'  (veut 
dire  '  dilection,  amour');  ' encovenir,  830,  '  embarrasser ' ;  'livrison, 
livraison,  s.f,  7541,  mauvais  traitement'  (livraison  est  1'action  de  livrer, 
de  donner ;  le  mot  est  employe  au  v.  7541  dans  un  sens  concret) ; 
'  maisiere,  s.f,  1562,  maison '  (rien  n'indique  que  le  mot  n'ait  pas  le  sens 
ordinaire  de  '  muraille ')  ;  '  oes,  1839,  ceuvre  '  (veut  dire  •'  necessite, 
usage');  l  paelle,  s.f.  mesure ' ;  'parent,  adv.,  4095,  dans  les  environs'; 
'  periceus,  199,  dangereux ;  preeceus,  1172'  (1'etude  du  contexte  me  fait 
croire  qu'il  s'agit  du  v.  fr.  pereceus  '  paresseux ') ;  '  prinseignier,  2864, 


120  Reviews 

baptiser '  (aux  vv.  2864-5  on  lit :  '  qu'il  le  prinseignast  Et  baptisast ' : 
traduire  prinseignier  par  '  marquer  (prealablement)  du  signe  de  la 
croix');  '  ravenir,  386,  se  repeter'  (veut  dire  'advenir,  arriver  de 
nouveau  ' ;  la  traduction  '  se  repeter '  ne  convient  pas  au  contexte) ; 
'recroire,  3539,  renoncer'  (il  s'agit  du  verbe  se  recroire  de  'renoncer  a  la 
croyance  a ') ;  '  rois,  s.m.,  5390,  petit  faisceau  '  (il  s'agit  d'un  filet  et  rois 
est  le  fr.  mod.  rets)  ;  '  rooignier,  311,  trancher'  (veut  dire  '  tonsurer  ') ; 
. '  rotu-re,  s.f.,  5601),  rupture';  '  sor  under,  1582,  en  tourer  '  (veut  dire 
'  deborder ') ;  '  soudeer,  746,  payer  '  (au  v.  746  veut  dire  '  prendre  a  son 
service ') ;  '  trebuche,  si,  5390,  lutte,  machine  de  guerre '  (au  v.  5390, 
trebuches  est  le  pluriel  du  regime  trebuchet.  s.m.,  et  il  a  le  sens  du  fr. 
mod.  trebuchet). 

Le  glossaire  donne  encore :  '  aviron,  984,  ?  support ' ;  au  v.  984. 
aviron  veut  dire  tout  simplement  '  gouvernail '  et  le  mot  s'explique  par 
un  rapprochement  avec  le  governes  du  v.  985.  Quant  a  la  mention : 
'  deduier,  876-82,  s'amuser/  il  faut  dire  que  la  forme  analogique 
deduwut  du  v.  876  n'implique  en  aucune  facon  un  infinitif  deduier  : 
c'est  le  part,  present  du  verbe  se  deduire.  Je  note  encore  :  '  haitie,  4435, 
rejouie '  ou  il  faut  corriger  en  rejoui  ;  et  '  volpille,  s.f,  4875,  renard  '  ou 
il  vaudrait  peut-etre  mieux  mettre  renarde.  Corrigez  aussi  enfes  (a  sa 
place  alphabetique  dans  le  glossaire)  en  enfes. 

II  ne  me  parait  pas  que  le  glossaire  ait  ete  fait  d'apres  un  systeme 
quelconque.  A  defaut  d'un  glossaire  complet,  un  bon  glossaire  de  la 
Vie  de  St  Remi  clevrait  contenir :  (a)  tous  les  mots  et  les  sens  de  1'anc. 
frangais  qui  sont  rares,  ex.  g.  ceux  qui  ne  sont  pas  dans  le  Godefroy  ou 
qui  n'y  sont  attestes  que  dans  un  ou  deux  textes ;  (b)  tous  les  mots  du 
francais  moderne  dont  on  ne  connait  pas  d'exemple  anterieur  a  la  date 
supposee  du  texte  et  peut-etre  meme  ceux  qui  sont  attestes  pour  la 
premiere  fois  dans  d'autres  textes  de  la  meme  epoque ;  (c)  tous  les  mots 
qui  par  leur  forme  ou  leur  sens  donnent  lieu  a  des  remarques  critiques. 
Or,  parmi  les  mots  plus  specialement  vieux-frangais,  le  glossaire  cite 
carrogier  e"t  resrener  comme  n'etant  pas  dans  le  Godefroy  ;  mais  man- 
quent  aussi  au  Godefroy  abitacle,  contretnendement,  descombreement, 
majestire,  pidlentine  qui  sont  dans  le  glossaire  mais  sans  mention 
jmrticuliere ;  et  on  pourrait  aj outer  comme  manquant  au  Godefroy 
entrefailles,v.  348, et  ranloinsela,  v.  8113,  qui  ne  sont  pas  dans  le  glossaire. 
Parmi  les  mots  du  v.  fr.  qui  manquent  au  glossaire  et  qui  devraient  s'y 
trouver,  je  citerai :  asoupe,  1989  (voir  Godefroy  a  achoper) ;  atireement, 
v.  2396  (un  seul  ex.  dans  Godefroy)  ;  barbarans,  sb.,  v.  3092  (un  seul 
ex.  dans  Godefroy  tir£  de  Horn) ;  artillier,  v.  5631  (pour  le  sens). 

Le  glossaire  contient  un  nombre  considerable  de  mots  qui  existent 
toujours  dans  le  frangais  moderne.  Mais  pourquoi  a-t-on  insert  aviver 
'  animer,'  par  exemple,  ou  encore  chenus  '  aux  cheveux  blancs '  ?  c'est  ce 
que  je  ne  saurais  dire.  II  suffira  peut-etre  de  faire  observer  que  pour 
ma  part  j'aurais  omis  tous  les  mots  du  francais  moderne  que  Mr  B.  a  cm 
devoir  noter  et  que  Ton  ne  trouvera,  a  leur  place  alphabetique  dans  le 
glossaire,  aucun  des  mots  du  fra^ais  moderne,  qui,  a  la  lecture  du 
texte,  m'ont  paru  int£ressants  par  leur  date.  Parmi  ceux-ci;  je  citerai : 


Reviews  121 

anniversaire,  6444 ;  acheteor,  5726 ;  chevrel,  6609 ;  conquest,  3164 : 
corretier,  5708  ;  malencontre,  4597  ;  memorial,  7021  ;  poterie,  4304 : 
ressaisir,  7275 ;  retraite,  3465  ;  en  effet,  tons  ces  mots  sont  attestes 
pour  la  premiere  fois,  d'apres  le  Diet.  Gen.,  dans  des  textes  de  la  deuxieme 
moitie  du  xiiie  siecle.  Encore  plus  importants  sont  les  mots  que  le 
Diet  Gen.  n'atteste  que  depuis  le  xive  siecle  (ou  plus  tard).  Je  donne 
ici  une  liste  complete  de  ceux  que  j'ai  trouves1 : 

1.  absolument  (8*  R.,  v.  1899,  absoluement ;  DG:  xive  s.,  Oresme); 

2.  assidiiment  (Sf  R.,  v.  5087,  assiduement ;  DG:  1541,  Calvin) ; 

3.  attiseur  (S*  R.,  v.  7717,  atiseour;  DG  :  1615,  R.  Gaultier)  ; 

4.  bondon  (&  R.,  v.  1381  ;  DG :  xiiie-xive  s.,  Mace  de  la  Charite); 

5.  coutumierement  (8t  R.,v.  I353,coustumierement',  DG:  xive-xves., 

Chron.  de  Boucicaut) ; 

6.  decrepit   (&  R.,   v.    6052,   decrepis ;   DG :    fin  xve  s.,  Martial 

d'Auvergne,  descrepy) ; 

7.  delogenient (8*  R.,  v.  2722,  deslogement ;  DG:  xives.,  Duquesne); 

8.  devier  (S*  R.,  v.  5994 ;  DG :  xive  s.,  Oresme) ; 

9.  dialecticien  (&  R.,  v.  5278.  dialeticien ;  DG  :    1546,  Rabelais, 

iii,  19,  dialecticien',  xiiie  s.,  Vie  de  Sfc  Catherine  dialetien); 

10.  gracieusement  (&  R.,  v.  4279  ;  DG:  1302,  Lettre  de  Philippe  le 

Bel); 

11.  implorer  (Sf  R.,  v.  3405,  emplorer;    DG:   1549,  R.  Estienne, 

implorer) ; 

12.  injonction  (Sf  R.,  v.  7385,  injoncion  ;  DG :  1348,  Varin,  Arch. 

admin,  de  Rheims,  injunction)  ; 

13.  .meneur    (8t    R.,    v.     1554,    meneor ;    D£ :    1308,    texte   dans 

Godefroy)  ; 

14.  precieusement  (Sf  R.,  v.  4280  ;  ££:  1539,  R.  Estienne); 

15.  prostration  (S1  R.,  v.  1567 ;  DG:  xive  s.,  J.  Golein); 

16.  reclusion  (S6  R.,  v.  5012  ;  DG  :  1642,  Oudin)  ; 

17.  rhethoricien  (S*  R.,  v.  3070,  rethorien\    DG :    xive  s.,  Oresme, 

rettoricien) ; 

18.  secondement  (8f  R.,  v.  4862;  DG:  1314,  Mondeville) ; 

19.  semainier  (S1  R.,  v.  5805  ;  DG :  xvie  s.,  Bonivard)  ; 

20.  solitaire  men  t  (S*  R.,  v.  1654  ;  DG  :  xve  s.,  Monstrelet) ; 

21.  souillure   (S1    R.,    v.    3499,    soilleure;    DG :    xvie    s.,    Marot, 

souilleure) ; 

22.  virginalement  (S*   R.,   v.    7472,   virgineument ;     DG :    xive   s., 

Menagier,  virgin  alement). 

Si  j'ai  fait  un  aussi  long  compte  rendti  de  cette  edition,  c'est  d'abord 
sans  doute  parce  que  le  texte  de  la  Vie  de  St  Remi  m'a  interesse  au 
point  de  vue  lexicographique,  mais  c'est  aussi  pour  montrer  1'interet  que 
je  prends  a  cette  publication.  Je  suis  charme  de  voir  que  I'Oxford 
University  Press  a  entrepris  de  publier  un  texte  en  v.  francais  d'une 
certaine  importance  sinon  litteraire  du  moins  linguistique.  Ensuite, 

1  Dans  cette  liste  S*  R.  =  Vie  de  St  Remi  ;   DG  =  Dictionnaire  General. 


122  Reviews 

cela  m'a  fait  un  veritable  plaisir  de  voir  qu'un  jeune  anglais  avait 
entrepris  de  son  cote  le  travail  quelque  pen  rebutant  de  faire  cette 
edition  d'un  poeme  en  v.  francais  de  8234  vers.  Les  etudiants  des 
universites  anglaises  qui  choisissent  les  langues  modernes  comme  sujet 
special  se  tournent  presque  tous  vers  les  etudes  litteraires  qui  ne 
demandent  pas  une  preparation  pour  eux  aussi  ardue  que  celle  des 
etudes  linguistiques.  Aussi  faut-il  tenir  compte  a  Mr  Bolderston  de 
son  bon  vouloir.  Si  j'ai  du  critiquer  1'oeuvre  de  debut  qui  atteste 
du  rnoins  chez  lui  une  louable  ambition,  j'espere  que  mes  critiques  ne 
feront  que  stimuler  en  lui  le  desir  de  vaincre. 

PAUL  BARBIER  FILS. 
LEEDS. 

The  Influence  of  Baudelaire  in  France  and  England.     By  G.  TURQUET- 
MILNES.     London  :  Constable  and  Co.     1913.     8vo.     viii  +  300  pp. 

For  the  first  time,  in  English,  a  book  has  been  devoted  to  a  serious 
study  of  Baudelaire  and  his  influence.  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes  is  to  be 
congratulated  on  a  very  careful  and  painstaking  piece  of  work,  which 
no  student  of  nineteenth- century  French  literature  can  afford  to  neglect. 
The  reserves  we  feel  bound  to  make  in  praising  her  book  must  not  be 
taken  to  imply  any  want  of  appreciation  of  what  is,  in  many  respects,  a 
most  noteworthy  study  of  Baudelaire  and  of  some  of  his  contemporaries 
and  successors.  With  the  influence  of  Baudelaire  on  painting  and 
music  we  do  not  propose  to  deal.  A  literary  critic  does  not  feel  at 
home  in  discussing  such  topics,  and  we  cannot  help  feeling  that  the 
book  would  have  gained  by  concentration  on  Baudelaire  himself  and 
on  those  other  writers  who  can,  in  any  real  sense,  be  considered 
Baudelairians. 

It  can  scarcely  be  said  that  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes  has  done  complete 
justice  to  her  subject.  She  has  not  altogether  understood  the  apparently 
contradictory  personality  of  Baudelaire.  She  demurs,  and  rightly,  to  the 
view  that  has  long  prevailed  of  Baudelaire  as  a  decadent  and  a  lover  of 
evil,  an  exponent  or  apologist  of  sin.  But  she  finds  in  him  pursuit 
of  sensation  at  any,  cost,  and  a  sacrilegious  pleasure  in  the  pursuit  of 
evil  Here  we  entirely  disagree  with  her.  Baudelaire  had  an  intense 
and  passionate  horror  of  sin :  but,  though  he  fell  continually  into  sin, 
love  of  sin  found  no  place  in  his  nature.  His  was  a  personality  at  once 
profoundly  spiritual  and  overwhelmingly  sensual,  doomed  by  that  clash 
of  contradictories  to  sorrow,  and,  except  by  miracle,  despair.  Men  have 
been,  as  he  was,  spiritualists,  '  surcivilises,'  of  exquisite  refinement, 
quiveringly  sensitive,  and  have  yet  been  happy.  Men  have  been 
simple  pagans  and  yet  found  beauty  in  life.  But  Baudelaire  was 
both  at  once,  and  for  such  a  nature  acute  suffering  is  inevitable.  His 
(Euvres  Posthumes,  especially  Mon  cceur  mis  a  nu,  and  his  other 
diaries,  are  probably  the  most  terrible  documents  ever  put  upon  paper, 
revealing  as  they  do  the  gradual  conquest  of  a  great  soul  by  despairing 
cynicism.  "  • 


Reviews  123 

The  Baudelairian  legend  may  be  set  aside  by  the  student  of  Baude- 
laire's life.  His  extravagances  were  merely  the  cynical  armour  of  his 
sensitiveness :  they  were,  we  think,  absolutely  adventitious  to  his  real 
nature.  The  two  great  influences  of  his  life  were  Jeanne  Duval  and 
Madame  Sabatier,  his  evil  genius  and  his  good  angel.  Jeanne  Duval 
stands  for  all  the  shame  and  awfulness  of  sin.  The  poet,  unable  to  tear 
himself  away  from  her,  came  through  her  fatal  and  degrading  attraction 
to  despise  all  women,  and  to  lose  all  faith  in  the  highest  aspirations  of 
the  soul.  In  her  he  found  neither  peace  nor  joy.  No  bond  of  sympathy 
existed  between  them  except  the  most  shameful.  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes' 
'  explanation  of  the  attraction  Jeanne  Duval  held  for  him '  errs  in  too 
great  delicacy.  She  is  not  a  living  woman  used  '  as  a  means  of  re- 
habilitating the  attractions  of  the  past.'  With  her  Baudelaire  found 
only  '  the  expense  of  spirit  in  a  waste  of  shame.'  But  Madame  Sabatier 
awoke  in  him  all  the  dormant  nobility  of  his  being :  his  love  for  her  was 
far  removed  from  all  degradation.  She  was  for  him 

1'ange  gardien,  la  Muse  et  la  Madone. 

She  haunted  him  like  a  beautiful  dream,  like  some  spiritual  presence 
ever  with  him,  leading  him  from  the  slough  of  despair  into  paths  of 
beauty,  into  the  fields  of  peace.  But  he  was  haunted,  too,  by  another 
vision — the  vision  of  his  past  self.  He  feared  to  find  in  Madame 
Sabatier  another  Jeanne,  but  above  all  he  feared  himself:  and  so, 
though  his  love  was  returned,  he  made  the  supreme  refusal,  he  rejected 
the  hope  and  redemption  which  love  alone  could  give  him,  and  fell 
thenceforward  through  lower  and  ever  lower  depths  of  shame  and 
despair,  to  a  welcome  death. 

His  soul  was  the  soul  of  a  god,  but  of  a  god  possessed  of  a  demon. 
Dragged  incessantly  towards  the  abyss,  he  fell  times  without  number, 
but  never  without  remembering  whence  he  fell.  We  do  not  see  him 
wallowing  in  forbidden  delights.  We  see  Lucifer  as  lightning  fallen 
from  heaven,  bathed  in  the  fire  of  Hell,  racked  with  tortures  too  awful 
to  be  named. 

Mrs  Turquet-Milnes  thinks  differently ;  but  to  us  it  seems  impossible 
to  mistake  the  meaning  of  such  lines  as 

Dans  ton  lie,  o  Venus!  je  n'ai  trouve  debout 
Qu'un  gibet  symbolique  ou  pendait  mon  image. 
O  Seigneur,  donnez-moi  la  force  et  le  courage 
De  contempler  mon  coeur  et  mon  corps  sans  degotit. 

Strength  and  courage  to  overcome  his  own  self-loathing — that  is  indeed 
the  great  thing  wanting  in  Baudelaire.  The  Fleurs  du  Mai  are  full  of 
desperate  loneliness,  of  unspeakable  ennui. 

His  soul  has  never  found  satisfaction.  In  a  barren,  dreary  solitude 
of  contemplation  he  passes  judgment  on  the  body  that  has  dragged 
him  down,  and  the  punishment  falls  speedily — the  remorse  that  no 
wine  nor  drug  can  assuage,  the  heavy  burden  of  despair  that  nothing 
can  lift,  an  utter  weariness  of  being  that  only  one  thing  can  cure. 


124  Reviews 

There  are  two  rays  of  hope  in  his  darkness,  love  and  death;  and  the 
first  being  quenched,  he  turns  towards  death  as  his  only  possible 
salvation. 

C'est  la  gloire  des  Dieux,  c'est  le  greriier  mystique, 
C'est  la  bourse  du  pauvre  et  sa  patrie  antique, 
C'est  le  portique  ouvert  sur  les  cieux  inconnus. 

Thus  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes  seems  to  us  to  have  failed  to  appreciate 
(p.  17)  the  absolutely  essential  feature  of  Baudelaire's  temperament. 
She  considers  him  as  a  type  rather  than  as  an  individual,  and  this,  we 
should  say,  is  the  fundamental  defect  of  the  book. 

Nor  has  she  fully  appreciated  Baudelaire's  attitude  towards  Art. 
She  has  not  sufficiently  distinguished  Baudelaire's  'ideal  beauty'  as 
ultimately  incarnated  in  Madame  Sabatier  from  the  dangerous  seduction 
of  a  mere  plasticism  which  so  powerfully  tempted  him  in  Jeanne  Duval. 
Where  he  seems  to  adhere  to  the  orthodoxy  of  '  1'Art  pour  FArt,'  to  be 
simply  a  disciple  of  Gautier,  Jeanne  Duval  and  all  she  stands  for  is 
the  explanation.  But  Baudelaire  struggled  to  free  himself  from  her 
obsession,  in  Art  as  well  as  in  Life.  And  in  Art  he  succeeded,  while 
in  Life  he  failed.  The  higher  Baudelaire  found  in  Art  his  only 
consolation  and  hope.  He  attempted  to  gain  in  poetry  that  self- 
expression  which  in  its  fulness  life  had  refused  him.  His  verse  is 
always  sincere  and  passionate.  Herein  lies  the  explanation  of  his 
often  seemingly  self-contradictory  attitude  towards  '  1'Art  pour  1'Art.' 
Art  to  him  was  absolute :  an  end  in  itself.  Yet  it  was  not  the  merely 
formal  decoration  that  it  was  for  Gautier.  In  Art  Baudelaire  sought 
rather  an  escape  from  the  '  gout  immodere  de  la  forme '  than  an  ex- 
ploitation of  it. 

His  article  on  '  1'Ecole  pai'enne '  is  proof  enough  of  this.  To 
Baudelaire  plasticity  was  too  closely  allied  to  sensuality  to  be  any- 
thing but  a  curse.  '  La  plastique  1'a  empoisonne,  et  cependant  il  ne 
peut  vivre  que  par  ce  poison.'  There  is  nothing  plastic  about  Baude- 
laire's verse :  it  is  intense,  passionate,  even  tortured,  rising  to  infinite 
heights  of  aspiration,  falling  to  infinite  depths  of  despair.  It  is  never 
without  an  intellectual  substructure.  '  Congedier  la  passion  et  la  raison, 
c'est  tuer  la  litte'rature.'  Never  does  Baudelaire  look  at  the  world 
merely  '  sous  sa  forme  materielle.'  And  yet  he  will  not  prostitute  his 
Art  to  a  purpose:  Art  is,  it  has  and  can  have  no  purpose.  In  that 
sense  must  be  interpreted  his  Art  for  Art's  sake  utterances.  But  Art 
will  not  be  irresponsible  dreaming  or  fresco  or  arabesque:  Gautier's 
'  metaphores  qui  se  suivent '  are  poles  apart  from  the  fiery  intensity  and 
passionate  sincerity  in  self-analysis  of  Baudelaire. 

The  '  diabolism '  so  often  noticeable  in  Baudelaire's  conception  of 
Beauty  is  due  in  part  to  the  effort  of  the  disappointed  sensualist  to 
'commit  the  oldest  sins  a  thousand  different  ways.'  But  it  has  also 
a  nobler  cause :  the  clash  and  strife  of  his  two  natures,  and  the  opposed 
attraction  of  the  two  types  of  beauty  that  appealed  to  him,  the  plastic 
and  the  spiritual,  and  the  despair  and  horror  engendered  by  the  hope- 
lessness of  his  struggle  to  free  himself  from  the  lower  obsession. 


Reviews 


125 


Pagans  have  worshipped  plastic  beauty  without  remorse :    Baudelaire, 
the  spiritualist,  could  not. 

Apart  from  the  form  of  his  work,  with  which  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes 
hardly  professes  to  deal,  Baudelaire  had  in  no  real  sense  any  prede- 
cessors. Gautier  was  a  simple  pagan.  Aloysius  Bertrand  and  Petrus 
Borel,  on  whom  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes  has  written  illuminating  and 
interesting  essays,  have  no  relation  whatever  to  Baudelaire.  The 
treatment  of  Baudelaire's  posterity  is,  also,  besides  being  very  uneven, 
to  a  considerable  extent  beside  the  point.  '  Baudelairism '  has  very 
little  to  do  with  Baudelaire.  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes'  definition  of  '  Bau- 
delairism '  applies  excellently  to  most  of  the  so-called  followers  of 
Baudelaire,  who  made  of  themselves  just  what  Baudelaire  himself  was 
not,  lovers  of  sin.  They  had  not,  as  Baudelaire  had,  that  double  nature 
which  made  him  fear  degradation  even  in  the  holiest  relations  of  love. 
They  had  not  that  '  degout  d'aimer '  which  only  such  a  nature  las 
Baudelaire's  can  possibly  know. 

The  most  Baudelairian  of  the  contemporaries  of  Baudelaire  was 
certainly  Barbey  d'Aurevilly.  He,  like  Baudelaire,  is  an  intensely 
moral  writer :  perhaps  (and  we  do  not  forget  Lex  Diaboliques},  with 
Baudelaire,  the  most  intensely  moral  of  all  French  writers :  he  has 
branded  vice,  which  he  loathed  with  all  the  Baudelairian  loathing,  as 
no  other  writer  has  ever  branded  it,  as  only  Leon  Bloy  could  have  done, 
or  Baudelaire  himself.  He  himself  was  not  a  Baudelaire.  But  his 
characters  are.  The  terrible  Abbe  de  la  Croix-Jugan  of  the  Ensorcelee 
is  a  character  that  can  never  be  forgotten.  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes,  as 
might  be  expected,  sees  in  Barbey  '  a  curious  impiety '  which  made 
him  write  Les  Diaboliques.  Barbey  was  not  impious  here  or  anywhere. 
He  is  in  the  terrible  stories  of  Les  Diaboliques  just  as  intensely  Catholic 
and  moral  as  in  any  other  of  his  works.  But  he  is  a  moralist  for  strong 
men  and  women  who  do  not  fear  the  truth.  The  brave  he  purges  by 
terror:  the  weak  he  destroys.  Leon  Bloy,  in  his  study  of  Barbey 
d'Aurevilly,  calls  the  Diaboliques  a  'document  implacable  qu'aucun 
moraliste  n'avait  apporte-  jusqu'ici,  dans  un  ciboire  de  terreur  d'une 
ailssi  paradoxale  magnificence.'  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes  is  right  in  saying 
that  '  at  his  greatest,  he  is  as  great  as  Balzac.'  He  was  even  greater. 

Verlaine  was  not  a  Baudelairian  either  in  the  real  sense  or  in 
any  other.  Tossed  helplessly,  without  any  serious  struggle,  between 
hysterical  Catholicism  and  nameless  orgies  of  vice,  without  any  in- 
tellectual outlook  or  definite  philosophy  of  life,  he  was  in  every  way 
less  than  Baudelaire.  His  was  not  a  great  soul.  He  was  simply  a 
drunken  profligate  afflicted  with  unmanly  spasms  of  remorse,  who  wrote 
a  few  beautiful  and  haunting  lyrics  amidst  a  mass  of  mediocre  and  even 
filthy  scribbling.  No  high  morality  lights  the  awful  darkness  of  some 
of  his  verse :  his  lapses  are  redeemed  by  no  intense  and  passionate 
aspiration  after  purity. 

The  chapter  of '  Living  Poets '  (iv,  xi)  is  by  far  the  weakest  in  the 
book.  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes  should  have  made  up  her  mind  whether 
she  meant  to  include  them  or  not.  Baudelaire  and  Barbey  d'Aurevilly 


126  Reviews 

are,  in  some  ways,  the  most  significant  figures  in  the  French  literature 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  They  are  with  the  lesser  men  who  gathered 
round  them  'those  who  have  expressed  its  temper'  (p.  17)  and  made  it 
different  from  any  other  century  (that  is,  if  we  forget  the  whole  scientific 
and  materialist  movement  of  the  time).  The  writers  of  the  last  decade 
of  the  nineteenth  century  belong  really  to  a  new  movement,  one  of  faith 
and  hope,  which  might  take  as  its  motto  Viele-Griffin's  line : 

Rejouis-toi  et  sache  croire, 

or  his 

II  n'y  a  pas  de  fatals  desastres, 
Toute  la  defaite  est  en  toi ! 

The  most  essentially  Baudelairian  of  contemporary  poets — Henri  de 
Regnier,  whose  L'Homme  et  la  Sirene,  e.g.,  is  intensely  Baudelairian  in 
the  true  sense— is  not  even  mentioned.  Gilkin,  the  most  conspicuous 
of  contemporary  dispensers  of  blasphemy — a  Baudelairian  in  the  other 
and  bad  sense — shares  a  similar  fate. 

We  cannot  devote  much  space  to  Part  V,  on  the  Baudelairian  Spirit 
in  England.  To  classify  Mr  George  Moore  as  a  Baudelairian,  in  spite 
of  his  real  or  affected  love  of  Baudelaire,  is  to  insult  Baudelaire's  sin- 
cerity and  intensity.  Mr  Moore  is  certainly  not  '  Baudelairian  in  this 
sense  that,  though  ceaselessly  incredulous,  he  pretends  to  believe  in 
this  movement  of  Irish  faith '  (p.  257)  or  in  the  Protestantism  to  which 
he  was  converted.  There  can  be  no  conflict  in  Mr  Moore's  nature. 
He  is  a  maker  of  epigrams  and  sometimes  of  beautiful  sentences,  a 
devotee  of  '  FArt  pour  1'Art '  in  its  narrower  sense.  He  is  not  a  great 
tortured  soul  rent  between  Moloch  and  God.  And  when  it  comes  to 
finding  Baudelairism  of  any  kind  whatever  in  the  mysticism  of  '  M.' 
(Mr  George  W.  Russell)  or  in  Synge,  then  it  is  time  to  protest.  We 
doubt  if  '  M.'  at  least  has  ever  read  a  word  of  Baudelaire  or  knows 
anything  whatever  about  him.  No  two  men  could  be  further  apart, 
in  their  lives  or  their  work. 

Swinburne  no  doubt  admired  Baudelaire.  But  he  was  a  pagan. 
Nothing  could  be  less  Baudelairian,  e.g.,  than  the  Ave  atque  Vale 
written  in  memory  of  Baudelaire  and  quoted  by  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  misunderstand  Baudelaire  more  completely. 
He  sought  no  redemption  from  virtue,  nor  to  him  were  the  roses  and 
raptures  of  vice  other  than  charnel  blossoms  of  Hell  and  the  bark  of 
Hell's  hounds.  He  took  the  mingled  metal  of  his  soul,  gold  and  bronze 
and  dross,  and  found  relief  for  his  pain  in  beating  it  and  working  it  into 
gorgeous  filigree  and  arabesque,  with  here  and  there  a  terrific  panel  for 
the  vestibules  of  Hell.  But  unlike  Swinburne,  at  least  the  earlier  and 
so-called  Baudelairian  Swinburne,  he  did  not  attempt  to  make  vice  or 
sin  beautiful  or  attractive. 

Mrs  Turquet-Milnes  is  of  course  consistent,  though  wrong,  in  finding 
that  'Swinburne's  idea  of  extracting  " exceeding  pleasure  out  of  extreme 
pain..."  is  a  Baudelairian  one'  (p.  225). 

Wilde  is   certainly  nearer  Baudelaire,  at  least  in  his  later  work 


Reviews  127 

where  the  soul  of  the  poet  cries  from  the  depths  of  shame.  But  in 
so  far  as  he  was  a  Swinburnian  and  a  pagan — and  it  seems  that  Wilde's 
spiritual  nature  only  awoke  after  he  had  drained  the  cup  of  pleasure — 
he  has  no  relation  whatever  to  Baudelaire.  It  is  quite  un-Baudelairian 
to  celebrate  Swinburne  as  one  who 

Hath  kissed  the  lips  of  Proserpine 

And  sung  the  Galilaean's  requiem,     (p.  239.) 

Many  a  poet  beside  Baudelaire  has  distrusted  the  '  idea  of  progress '  and 
has  hated  democracy  (p.  240).  We  cannot  follow  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes 
in  finding  in  this  '  aristocratic  attitude '  any  proof  of  Baudelairian 
influence. 

Before  closing  we  must  say  a  word  as  to  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes  own 
style.  Although  we  differ  from  her  on  some  points,  we  have  no  small 
measure  of  admiration  for  her  thought — but  we  have  no  word  of  praise 
for  the  prose  in  which  she  has  clothed  it.  It  jars  upon  the  ear  like  a 
solo  on  the  kettle-drum  :  it  is  as  jog-trot  as  'the  butter- women's  rank  to 
market' — totally  devoid  of  rhythm  and  harmony  of  phrase.  The  effect 
is  a  continual  staccato  which  at  times  becomes  nerve-racking.  We 
think  that  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes  might  considerably  increase  her  po- 
pularity, without  reducing  the  lucidity  of  her  prose,  if  she  would 
remember  that  the  full-stop  is  not  the  only  mark  of  punctuation  in 
use  in  English. 

The  bibliography  should  have  mentioned  M.  Cassagne's  La  Theorie  de 
L  Art  pour  I' Art,  indispensable  to  all  students  of  the  period;  and 
M.  T.  de  Visan's  L' Attitude  du  Lyrisme  Contemporain,  if  only  to 
make  it  clear  that  despite  a  sonnet  of  which  Mrs  Turquet-Milnes 
makes  too  much  (she  is  not  alone  in  this),  Baudelaire  and  the 
'  Symbolists '  have  very  little,  if  anything,  in  common. 


K.  M.  LINTON, 

T.    B.    RUDMOSE-BROWN. 


DUBLIN. 


Moliere  en  Angleterre,  1660-1670.    By  J.  E.  GILLET.    Paris  :  Champion. 
1913.     8vo.     240  pp. 

In  a  merry  passage  written  in  1665,  Sprat  declared  that  the  English 
'  have  far  exceeded '  the  French  '  in  the  representation  of  the  different 
humours.  The  truth  is,  the  French  have  always  seemed  almost 
ashamed  of  the  true  comedy,  making  it  not  much  more  than  the  subject 
of  their  farces.'  Sprat's  contemporaries  did  not  apparently  share  his 
opinion.  In  1663  or  1664,  Davenant  borrowed  the  second  act  of  The 
Playhouse  to  be  let  from  Sganarelle ;  adaptations  by  various  playwrights 
followed  in  quick  succession,  and,  from  1663  to  1670,  no  less  than  eleven 
other  plays  were  indebted  to  Moliere's  art.  How  Moliere  was  first 
brought  to  the  notice  of  the  English  public,  what  were  Tartufe's  and 


128  Reviews 

Alceste's  naturalisation  papers  on  British  soil,  are  the  points  dealt  with 
at  great  length  in  the  present  essay. 

M.  Gillet  claims  to  have  verified  and  completed  the  accounts  given 
of  the  subject  by  previous  scholars :  '  Pour  saisir  le  fil  de  la  continuite 
historique,  il  fallait  s'arreter  a  ces  debuts  modestes  avec  une  attention 
rninutieuse,  ne  negliger  aucun  detail  de  bibliographic  ou  d'histoire 
theatrale — Je  me  suis  attache  a  traiter  1'epoque  des  origines  avec  une 
patience  et  une  prudence  speciales....Voici  done  un  travail  assez  sec, 
mais,  je  1'espere,  precis  et  complet  et  vide  d'hypotheses  risquees  et 
d'amplifications '  (p.  4).  This  is  well  said  and  here  was  the  right  way 
to  do  good  and  unselfish  service  in  the  cause  of  literary  history.  It 
may  be  wished,  however,  that  the  many  opponents  of  the  so-called 
bibliographical  method  and  some  of  its  friends  would  realize  its  main 
disadvantage,  which  is  its  treacherousness  in  the  hands  of  an  over- 
confident and  unskilled  workman ;  briefly  speaking,  '  n'est  pas  biblio- 
graphe  qui  veut.'...As  they  stand,  M.  Gillet's  investigations  display 
much  labour  arid  are  likely  to  benefit  students  of  comparative  literature  ; 
for  instance,  his  list  of  the  dates  of  production  of  early  English 
Molieresque  plays  (pp.  200 — 208)  and  his  reprint  of  parallel  passages 
from  John  Lacy,  John  Caryll,  Matthew  Medbourne,  and  Thomas  Betterton 
(pp.  146 — 199)  can  hardly  be  dispensed  with.  The  greater  pity  it  seems, 
therefore,  that  M.  Gillet  should  have  wandered  far  from  his  own  professed 
and  very  high  ideal.  In  fact,  a  good  opportunity  has  been  lost  of  giving 
a  final  answer  to  an  interesting  question. 

First,  M.  Gillet's  analysis  of  his  sources  of  information  (pp.  7 — 10)  is 
unsatisfactory.  Instead  of  being  told,  however  candidly,  that  'apres 
avoir  etudie  Moliere  dans  le  texte  de  MM.  Despois  et  Mesnard,  il  fallait 
se  familiariser  avec  la  litterature  molieresque,'  we  should  have  preferred 
to  know  to  what  precise  extent  the  present  contribution  is  based  upon 
Langbaine's  Account  of  the  English  Dramatic  Poets,  Giles  Jacob's 
Poetical  Register  and  Van  Laun's  articles  in  the  Molieriste.  Similarly, 
we  should  like  to  have  seen  Mr  Harvey  Jellie's  Sources  da  theatre  anglais 
a  1'epoque  de  la  Restauration  and  Mr  M.  Kerby's  Moliere  and  the 
Restoration  Comedy,  briefly  dismissed  as  feeble  attempts  at  criticism. 
Not  so ;  Mr  Kerby  is  severely  taken  to  task  :  .'  et  ceci  est  plus  grave — 
1'auteur  ne  mentionne  que  sept  sur  douze  des  pieces  que  nous  allons 
bientot  examiner  et  ne  leur  consacre  en  tout  que  seize  pages'  (p.  10). 
True,  but  in  1691,  Langbaine  traced  out  pilferings  from  Moliere  in 
Davenant's  Playhouse  to  be  let  (1),  Flecknoe's  Damoiselles  a  la  Mode  (2), 
Dryden's  Sir  Martin  Mar-all  (3),  Shadwell's  Sullen  Lovers  (4),  Sedley's 
Mulberry  Garden  (5),  Dryden's  Evening's  Love  (6),  Lacy's  Dumb  Lady  (7), 
Caryll's  Sir  Solomon  (8),  Medbourne's  Tarta/e  or  the  French  Puritan  (9). 
Betterton's  Amorous  Widow  (10)  was  added  to  this  list  by  Giles  Jacob, 
and  Van  Laun  made  valuable  suggestions.  Lastly,  Moliere's  influence 
on  Etheredge  in  The  Comical  Revenge  (11)  and  She  woud  if  she  cou'd  (12) 
did  not  pass  unnoticed  by  Mr  Edmund  Gosse  and  Mr  A.  W.  Verity. 
Our  conclusion  is  that  the  making  up  of  the  above  list  is  not  due  to 
M.  Gillet's  efforts,  as  might  be  inferred  from  his  preface.  His  reticence, 


Reviews 


129 


on  one  hand,  and  his  useless  comments,  on  the  other,  cannot  be  justified  ; 
however,  they  mean  that  our  author  has  wished  to  do  better  and  to 
claim  more  than  he  could. 

The  truth  is  that,  in  many  a  case,  M.  Gillet  has  omitted  to  acknow- 
ledge what  he  necessarily  owes  to  his  authorities.  There  are  but  three 
insignificant  references  to  Langbaine  in  the  chapter  on  An  Evening's 
Love,  yet  Langbaine  wrote,  with  some  precision :  '  This  play  is,  in  a 
manner,  wholly  stolen  from  the  French,  being  patched  up  from 
Corneille's  Le  feint  Astrologae,  Moliere's  Depit  amoureux  and  his  Les 
Precieuses  ridicules,  and  Quinault's  Lamant  indiscret,  not  to  mention 
little  hints  borrowed  from  Shakespeare,  Petronius  Arbiter,  etc.  The 
main  plot  of  this  play  is  built  on  that  of  Corneille's  or  rather  Calderon's 

play  called  EL  Astrologo  fingido Aurelia's  affectation  in  her  speech, 

p.  31,  is  borrowed  from  Moliere's  Les  Precieuses  ridicules ;  the  scene 
between  Alonzo  and  Lopez,  p.  39,  is  translated  from  Moliere's  Depit 
Amoureux,  Act  II.  Sc.  6  ;  Camilla's  begging  a  new  gown  of  Don  Melchor, 
p.  61,  from  the  same,  Act  I.  Sc.  2.  The  love  quarrel  between  Wildblood 
and  Jacinta,  Maskall  and  Beatrix,  Act  IV.  Sc.  the  last,  is  copied  from 
the  same  play,  Act  iv.  Sc.  3  and  4...V  We  hear  that,  in  Sir  Martin 
Mar -all,  Dry  den  'fait  aussi  des  emprunts...au  roman  de  Francion  de 
Sorel,  a  Voiture  dont  il  traduit  tres  gentiment  la  chanson  L'amour  sous 
sa  loy...et  enfin  a  une  piece  de  Shakerley  Marmion'  (p.  60).  Let  us 
now  turn  to  Langbaine  (op.  cit.,  p.  170):  'There  are  several  other  turns 
of  the  plot  copied  from  other  authors  as  Warner's  playing  on  the  lute 
instead  of  his  master. ...See  Francion  written  by  M.  du  Pare,  lib.  7.  Old 
Moody  and  Sir  John  being  hoisted  up  in  their  altitudes  is  taken... from 
Shakerley  Marmion's  Fine  Companion,  Act  iv.  Sc.  I2.  The  song  of 
Blind  Love  to  this  hour... is  translated  from  a  song  made  by  M.  de 
Voiture,  though  I  must  do  Mr  Dryden  the  j  ustice  to  acquaint  the  world 
that  he  has  kept  to  the  sense  and  the  same  measure  of  verse.'  And 
why  should  M.  Gillet  have  thought  it  fit,  not  only  to  transcribe,  but 
also  to  correct  Gerard  Langbaine  ?  '  Langbaine  que  suit  docilement 
M.  Halliwell  (Diet  of  Old  Engl  Plays),  refere  le  passage  en  question 
a  la  Francioti  de  M.  du  Pare  !. .  .Dryden  1'a  emprunte  a  la  Vraie  histoire  de 
Francion  composee  par  Charles  Sorel,  pp.  281 — 282  de  1'ed.  Colombey, 
Paris,  1858.'  In  the  first  place,  Langbaine  has  M.  du  Pare,  not  M.  du  Pare, 
and  Halliwell  writes  M.  du  Pare,  but  these  are  trifles ;  in  the  second 
place,  the  mark  of  exclamation  may  be  transferred  to  M.  Gillet  himself, 
who  will  consult  Colombey 's  edition  of  Francion  (Avant-propos,  p.  4) 
with  profit :  '  Sorel  n'a  jamais  cesse  de  decline  r  la  paternite  de 
Francion... La  premiere  edition  de  ce  livre...est  intitulee :  "Histoire 
comique  de  Francion,  fleau  des  vicieux."  Presque  toutes  les  autres 
editions  portent  ce  titre  uniforme :  "  La  vraie  histoire  comique  de 
Francion  composee  par  Nicolas  de  Moulinet,  Sieur  du  Pare3.'"  Further 

1  Langbaine,  op.  cit.,  pp.  163  and  164. 

'2  M.  Gillet  points  out  (note  5,  p.  60)  '  1'erreur  de  Laiigbaiue  qui  reuvoie  a  iv,  3.' 
Langbaine  has  '  Act  4,  sc.  1 '  and  his  reference  is  the  right  one. 

3  Cf.  the  first  English  translation  (1655):  The  Comical  History  of  Francion. ..by 
M.  de  Moulines,  sieur  du  Pare... etc. 

M.  L.  R.  ix.  9 


130  Reviews 

on  (p.  109),  'Langbaine  nous  assure  que  le  Tartufe  [Medbourne's 
adaptation]  fut  reyu  par  des  applaudissements  universels.'  Not  so, 
indeed  :  '  This  play  was  received  with  universal  applause  on  our  English 
stage,  if  we  believe  our  author,  and  is  accounted  by  him  the  masterpiece 
of  Moliere's  productions/  One  more  instance  of  first-hand  knowledge 
and  accurate  scholarship:  Betterton's  Amorous  Widow  was  produced 
sometime  in  1670:  'C'etait  1'epoque  ou  Ton  representait  chaque  annee, 
au  9  novembre,  fete  du  Lord-Maire,  The  London  Cuckolds  de  Ravenscroft, 
farce  pleine  d'outrages  envers  les  paisibles  habitants  de  la  Cite'  (p.  115). 
This  passage  is  practically  by  Van  Laun,  according  to  whom  and  many 
others  Ravenscroft's  play  was  first  performed  in  1682:  'On  avait 
1'habitude  de  representer  cette  piece... le  jour  meme  de  1'installation  du 
lord  maire  de  Londres,  pour  montrer  le  mepris  qu'on  ressentait  pour  les 
gens  de  la  Cite1.'  I  need  not  insist  upon  other  blunders;  several  foot- 
notes are  incomplete  and  one  of  them  (p.  49)  refers  to  a  passage  in  the 
appendix  which  I  have  not  been  able  to  discover ;  the  English  transla- 
tion^) (footnote,  p.  225)  of  Sprat's  Observations  on  Monsieur  de  Sorbteres 
Voyage  into  England  will  not  be  found  anywhere;  lastly,  Andrew  Marvell 
did  not  write  '  Fleckno,  un  pretre  irlandais  a  Rome '  (p.  40). 

Failing  as  a  scientific  bibliographer,  M.  Gillet  also  fails  as  critic  On 
the  whole,  his  appraising  of  Moliere's  fortune  in  the  first  ten  years  of  the 
Restoration,  is  correct  (p.  134).  Moliere's  simple  plots  did  not  prove 
suitable  to  the  native  taste  for  a  great  '  variety  of  actions '  and  '  many 
other  little  contrivances2 ' ;  his  conception  of  '  1'honnete  homme '  and  his 
ethical  tendencies  were  not  understood ;  alone,  some  characters  of  his, 
thanks  perhaps  to  their  affinities  with  Jonsonian  humours,  succeeded  in 
leaving  a  lasting  mark  on  English  literature;  the  deformations  they 
underwent  bear  witness  to  the  brutal  realism  and  coarseness  of  the  age3. 
My  quarrel  with  M.  Gillet  is  that  his  few  judicious  remarks  have  to  be 
rescued  out  of  a  jumble  of  unfit  materials ;  his  literary  sense  either  runs 
away  with  irrelevant  scraps  of  information,  or  indulges  in  sayings  like 
the  following :  'II  se  fait  ainsi  que  Sam  Weller,  des  Pickwick  Papers, 
est  un  descendant  authentique,  d'une  part,  des  valets  espagnols  que 
Smollett  a  empruntes  a  Lesage,  d'autre  part,  de  1'immortel  Dufoy- 
Mascarille'  (p.  140),  '  Et  ne  vous  recriez  pas  sur  la  corruption  de 
la  societe  anglaise. ...Au  point  de  vue  de  la  moralite,  Charles  II  et 
Louis  XIV  se  valent. ...La  difference  entre  les  deux  pays  etait  que  1'un 
ignorait  1'art  du  vernis '  (p.  138).  Sam  Weller  will  have  a  ready  answer, 
and  this  '  art  du  vernis,'  whatever  is  meant  by  it,  was  not  a  little  respon- 
sible for  Moliere's  career  and  genius.  Again — but  here  an  error  of 
judgment  is  tacked  on  to  an  error  of  fact:  'ATorigine,  ne  1'oublions 
pas,  leur  curiosite  [of  the  founders  of  the  Royal  Society]  s'etendait  a  la 
litterature.  ...La  Royal  Society,  avant  de  devenir  exclusivement  scien- 
tifique,  etc....'  (p.  15). 

1  Van  Laun  in  Le  MoKeriste,  Nov.  1880,  p.   238.     Cf.  Halliwell,  Diet,  of  Old  Enyl. 
Plays,  under  The  London  Cuckolds. 

2  Sprat,  Observations  on  M.  de  Sorbiere's  Voyage  into  England,  p.  168. 

3  Cf.  Dufoy  in  The  Comical  Revenge  and  Mascarille. 


Reviews 


131 


My  sole  object  in  giving  so  much  room  to  the  present  work  has  been 
to  defend  the  bibliographical  method.  But  surely,  this  method  does 
not  demand  that  French  should  be  butchered  on  every  possible  occasion; 
it  does  not  even  approve  of  such  an  expression  as  '  une  farce  de  Moliere, 
farce  un  peu  longuette '  (p.  26). 

J.  J.  CHAMPENOIS. 

LONDON. 


MINOR  NOTICES. 

An  attractive  little  volume  among  the  'Cambridge  Manuals  of 
Science  and  Literature '  is  The  Ballad  in  Literature  by  T.  F.  Henderson 
(Cambridge  Univ.  Press,  1912).  The  book  consists  of  four  chapters: 
'The  Literary  Form,  Character  and  Sources  of  the  Ballad/  'Ballad 
Themes,'  'The  Origin  and  Authorship  of  Ballads,'  and  'The  Later 
British  Ballads.'  The  most  important  is  the  third,  in  which  the  views 
of  communal  composition  developed  by  Professor  Kittredge  and  Pro- 
fessor Gummere  are  subjected  to  a  searching  criticism,  which,  it  must  be 
said,  seems  to  be  to  a  great  extent  successful,  at  least  as  against  the 
more  extreme  positions,  and  the  essential  differences  between  their 
views  and  those  of  Child  are  effectively  pointed  out.  Speaking  of  the 
ballad  of  Robyn  and  Oandeleyn  Mr  Henderson  concludes :  'Any  one  who 
chooses  to  believe  that  the  genius  of  the  improvising  throng  and  the 
chance  of  blind  tradition  are,  together,  sufficient  to  account  for  the 
production  of  this  fine  ballad,  may  be  left  in  the  possession  of  his 
conviction :  my  own  mental  faculties  will  not  permit  me  to  conceive  its 
possibility.'  As  a  convenient  popular  guide  to  the  subject  this  little 
handbook  may  be  heartily  recommended. 


We  are  indebted  to  Miss  Edith  J.  Morley  for  an  attractive  reprint 
of  Hurd's  Letters  on  Chivalry  and  Romance  (London,  Frowde,  1911) 
together  with  one  of  his  dialogues  relating  to  '  the  golden  age  of  Queen 
Elizabeth.'  It  was  time  that  these  should  be  made  more  accessible 
than  they  hitherto  have  been.  No  separate  reprint  had  appeared  for 
more  than  a  century,  and,  apart  from  the  early  editions,  all  that  was 
available  was  the  collected  edition  of  the  works  of  Hurd,  and  this  was 
published  as  long  ago  as  1811.  By  way  of  introduction  to  this  most 
interesting  text,  we  are  given  an  outline  of  the  author's  life  in  the  form 
of  autobiographical  notes  '  found  among  his  papers  after  his  decease ' : 
also  a  well- written  essay  on  the  significance  of  the  Letters,  the  substance 
of  which  leaves  little  to  be  desired.  Miss  Morley  has  contrived  to 
emphasise  just  those  features  of  Hurd's  work  which  most  needed 


132  Minor  Notices 

emphasis:  his  contention  as  to  the  poetic  possibilities  of  Gothic  man- 
ners and  superstitions ;  his  criticism  of  the  Faery  Queene,  together  with 
the  theory  involved  that  '  a  poem  must  be  judged  according  to  the  ideal 
which  the  poet  set  before  himself;  his  enthusiastic  defence  of '  the  fairy 
way  of  writing,'  which  'looks  like  the  foreshadowing  of  Coleridge's 
defence  of  supernatural  subjects  and  of  the  romantic  belief  in  tlje  worth 
of  the  imagination  and  of  imaginative  conceptions.'  In  this  light,  the 
Letters  on  Chivalry  and  Romance  may  serve  as  an  introduction  to 
nineteenth  century  criticism,  and  they  here  form  a  little  volume  which 
no  serious  student  of  English  literature  can  afford  to  -neglect. 

J.  W.  H.  A. 

The  object  of  M.  Choisy's  study  of  Tennyson  (Alfred  Tennyson, 
son  spiritualisme,  sa  personalite  morale,  Geneve,  Kiindig,  1912)  may 
easily  be  misunderstood,  and  has  been  misunderstood  by  some  reviewers. 
He  refers  in  his  preface  to  Taine's  judgment  of  Tennyson  as  one-sided, 
'II  n'a  vu  qu'un  cdte  du  caractere  de  Tennyson;  il  n'a  considere 
en  lui  que  1'artiste  epris  de  beaute  et  n'a  pas  recherche  1'homme  intime, 
le  penseur,  le  reveur,  1'homme  de  sentiment,'  and  it  is  his  object  to 
correct  and  supplement  this  view  by  an  account  of  the  intellectual 
and  spiritual  elements  in  the  poet's  work.  We  at  the  present  time 
value  Tennyson  more  highly  as  an  artist  than  as  a  thinker,  and  therefore 
M.  Choisy's  estimate  of  him  has  been  by  some  judged  to  be  out  of  date. 
This,  however,  is  not  the  true  view  to  take  of  it.  Taine's  account 
unquestionably  needs  to  be  supplemented,  and  M.  Choisy  has  supplied 
a  review  of  the  ethical,  intellectual  and  spiritual  side  of  Tennyson's 
work,  which  may  well  be  interesting  to  his  readers.  Naturally  he  con- 
cerns himself  chiefly  with  the  poems  which  chiefly  illustrate  this  side, 
The  Palace  of  Art,  The  Vision  of  Sin,  In  Memoriam  and  the  Idylls  of 
the  King.  We  have  no  reason  to  complain  of  M.  Choisy's  self-imposed 
limitations,  and  we  need  only  say  that  he  has  produced  a  book  worthy 
to  rank  with  the  other  excellent  studies  of  English  poets  which  have 
been  produced  in  recent  years,  in  France. 


In  the  admirable  series  of  '  Oxford  Poets '  we  have  recently  had  The 
Ring  and  the  Book,  with  an  introduction  by  the  late  Professor  Dowden, 
and  Poems  of  James  Russell  Lowell  (London,  H.  Frowde,  1912).  Both 
are  very  convenient  and  readable  volumes,  well  printed  on  good  paper, 
like  the  rest  of  the  series,  and  wonderfully  cheap.  Dowden's  introduc- 
tion to  The  Ring  and  the  Book  deals  chiefly  with  the  relation  of  the 
poem  to  its  original  source,  and  points  out  how,  if  we  accept  the  poet's 
metaphor  of  the  ring,  we  must  reverse  its  application:  '  the  gold  is  con- 
tributed by  Browning's  imagination;  the  alloy  is  the  fact  or  alleged  fact 
as  set  forth  in  the  book.'  The  volume  has  four  facsimile  pages  from  the 
'  square  old  yellow  book,'  now  fairly  well  known  by  Nodell's  reproduction. 


Minor  Notices 


133 


Of  Lowell's  poems  we  have  here  not  a  quite  complete  collection,  but 
none  are  missing  that  will  be  much  missed,  only  a  few  of  the  less 
important  pieces  contained  in  the  last  volume  of  the  Riverside  edition. 
We  quote  the  concluding  lines  of  the  speech  of  the  Smith  Professor  of 
Modern  Languages  at  the  Commencement  Dinner,  1866,  not  only 
because  of  the  interest  of  their  subject-matter  to  ourselves,  but  because 
we  shall  thereby  have  the  opportunity  of  silently  correcting  two  misprints, 
the  only  ones  that  we  have  observed  in  the  volume : 

Let  me  beg,  Mr  President,  leave  to  propose 

A  sentiment  treading  on  nobody's  toes, 

And  give,  in  such  ale  as  with  pump-handles  we  brew, 

Their  memory  who  saved  us  from  all  talking  Hebrew, — 


I  give  you  the  men  but  for  whom,  as  I  guess,  sir, 
Modern  languages  ne'er  could  have  had  a  professor, 
The  builders  of  Babel,  to  whose  zeal  the  lungs 
Of  the  children  of  men  owe  confusion  of  tongues  ; 
And  a  name  all-embracing  I  couple  therewith, 
Which  is  that  of  my  founder — the  late  Mr  Smith. 


Acting  on  a  suggestion  made  by  Professor  Luick,  Dr  Arvid 
Gabrielson  has  prepared  a  volume  on  The  Influence  of  W-  in 
Old  English  as  seen  in  the  Middle  English  Dialects  (Eranos'  Forlag, 
Goteborg,  1912).  The  aim  of  the  work  is  to  consider  the  M.  E. 
development  of  those  words  which  in  O.E.  show  the  active  influence  of 
iv  in  a  following  diphthong  or  single  vowel.  The  first  part  contains  an 
analysis  of  M.E.  forms  found  in  certain  texts  representative  of  the 
earliest  forms  of  the  various  M.E.  dialects,  while  the  second  summarises 
the  results  of  each  type  of  ^-influence.  A  final  chapter  discusses  the 
bearing  of  these  results  on  the  question  of  the  dialects  of  Old  and 
Middle  English.  A  large  mass  of  material  has  been  accumulated,  but 
Dr  Gabrielson's  arrangement  of  his  matter  is  good,  and  the  wood  is 
not  lost  sight  of  for  the  trees,  as  is  often  the  case  with  a  thesis  of  this 
kind.  There  are  occasional  excursus  of  more  general  interest,  as  in  the 
discussion  of  the  existence  of  the  -it- vowel  in  the  West  Midland  dialect, 
and  here  the  author  shows  himself  well  able  to  strike  out  on  independent 
lines  of  his  own.  There  are  also  some  interesting  notes  on  the  history 
of  certain  words.  In  the  case  of  stalwart  (§  312)  the  suggestion  is 
made  that  the  development  of  O.E.  stcel-iueor}>,  stcelwier]>e  to  M.E. 
stalwar-d,  -t,  is  due  to  substitution  of  a  weak-stressed  form  of  the 
suffix  -iveard  (actually  found  in  O.  E.  as  -word)  for  the  regular  -wur]>, 
worlp.  Dr  Gabrielson  explains  in  the  same  way  such  forms  as  Jedward, 
in  Barbour's  Bruce,  for  the  more  usual  Jedworth.  It  is  difficult  however 
to  see  in  what  way  the  suffix  -ivard,  otherwise  unknown  in  place-names 
could  thus  be  brought  in.  The  change  is  fairly  wide-spread,  as 
exemplified  in  the  Northumberland  place-names  Staiuard  and  Ewart 
of  which  earlier  forms  are  Staworth  and  Eworth.  Dr  Gabrielson  half 
promises  a  later  volume  dealing  with  ^-influence  in  Modern  English 


134  Minor  Notices 

dialects.     It  is  to  be  hoped  that  he  will  see  his  way  to  fulfilling  this 
promise. 


A.M. 


A  notable  service  has  been  rendered  to  the  study  of  Shakespeare  by 
the  translation  into  Polish  of  the  whole  of  his  plays  under  the  general 
editorship  of  Professor  Roman  Dyboski,  who  holds  the  chair  of  English 
Literature  in  the  University  of  Cracow  (Wil Ham  Shakespeare:  Dzieta 
Dramatyzne.  12  vols.  Warsaw  and  Cracow,  Gebethner;  Wolff  &  Co., 
1911 — 13).  The  editor's  general  introduction  deals  with  the  life  of 
Shakespeare  and  general  aspects  of  Elizabethan  England,  the  chronology 
of  Shakespeare's  works,  the  conditions  of  his  stage,  and  the  old  editions, 
together  with  a  survey  of  his  fame  and  influence  at  home  and  abroad. 
His  prefaces  to  the  several  plays  discuss  their  literary  sources,  and  the 
plays  themselves  from  a  technical  point  of  view.  Against  certain  of  the 
plays  is  set  the  background  of  others  of  the  same  type  in  English 
literature — thus,  The  Merry  Wives  and  Othello  are  examined  in  their 
relation  to  the  domestic  drama,  As  You  Like  It  to  the  pastoral,  Julius 
Caesar  and  Hamlet  to  the  revenge  plays,  King  Lear  to  the  long  and 
continuous  sequence  of  English  allegorical  poetry.  In  cases  of  disputed 
authorship,  the  editor  inclines  to  conservatism,  not  regarding  artistic 
unevenness  as  sufficient  ground  for  the  assumption  of  a  second  hand  at 
work  in  the  composition  of  a  play ;  and  in  particular  difficult  instances, 
such  as  that  of  Troilus  and  Cressida,  he  shews  himself  unwilling  to 
resort  to  explanation  by  means  of  supposed  'first  sketches'  and  later 
re-handlings.  As  an  appendix  to  the  work,  Dr  L.  Bernacki  furnishes 
an  account,  partly  based  on  unpublished  documents,  of  the  beginnings 
of  Shakespearean  study  in  Poland  at  and  under  the  influence  of  the 
court  of  her  last  king. 


With  the  present  instalment  (Paradiso)  Professor  Grandgent  com- 
pletes his  edition  of  Dante's  poem  (Dante's  Divina  Commedia,  edited 
and  annotated  by  C.  H.  Grandgent.  Boston :  D.  C.  Heath  &  Co.),  the 
first  and  second  parts  of  which  were  noticed  in  the  Modern  Language 
Review  at  the  time  of  their  publication  (Vol.  v,  pp.  124-6;  Vol.  VII, 
pp.  421-2).  As  in  the  previous  volumes,  the  editor  has  availed  himself 
largely  of  Professor  Torraca's  commentary ;  but  his  references  are  still 
to  the  first  edition  of  this  work  (1905),  instead  of  to  the  revised  and 
corrected  edition  issued  in  1908.  Mr  Gardner's  Ten  Heavens  and  Signer 
Busnelli's  recently  published  II  Concetto  e  VOrdine  del  Paradiso  Daniesco 
have  also  been  in  constant  requisition,  as  well  as  the  admirable  articles 
on  La  Costruzione  del  Paradiso  Dantesco  of  Professor  E.  G.  Parodi,  the 
accomplished  director  of  the  Bullettino  della  Societa  Dantesca  Italiana, 
so  that  as  far  as  the  specialist  literature  of  his  subject  is  concerned 
Professor  Grandgent's  equipment  leaves  little  to  be  desired.  We  have 
noticed  a  few  statements  which  call  for  remark  or  for  correction.  On 


Minor  Notices 


135 


p.  30  Professor  Grandgent  observes,  '  it  is  curious  that  the  planets  with 
feminine  names — Luna  and  Venus — show  only  the  spirits  of  women.' 
In  the  Heaven  of  the  Moon,  it  is  true,  only  women  appear ;  but  in  the 
Heaven  of  Venus,  besides  Cunizza  and  Rahab,  Dante  sees  and  converses 
with  the  troubadour  Folquet,  and  Charles  Martel,  the  titular  King  of 
Hungary,  his  meeting  with  whom  is  one  of  the  most  pleasing  episodes 
in  this  cantica  of  the  poem.  In  the  note  on  Par.  VI.  59  Professor 
Grandgent  follows  Scherillo  in  taking  Era,  the  Araris  of  the  Romans,  to 
be,  not  the  Saone,  according  to  the  usual  acceptation,  but  the  Loire.  That 
some  Italian  writers,  Petrarch  and  Matteo  Villani,  for  instance,  identify 
the  Era  with  the  Loire  is  well  known  :  but  its  identification  with  that  river 
by  Dante  in  the  present  passage  seems  to  be  precluded  by  the  fact  that  the 
list  of  rivers  here  given  is  borrowed  direct  from  Lucan  (Phars.  I,  371  ff.), 
and  he  makes  the  Araris  (Era)  fall  into  the.  Rhone  ('  Rhodanus  raptim 
velocibus  undis  In  mare  fert  Ararim').  On  p.  95  it  is  stated  that  Siger 
died  at  Rome,  whereas  he  actually  met  his  death  at  Orvieto,  '  Nella 
corte  di  Roma  ad  Orbivieto,'  as  we  know  from  the  Italian  adaptation  of 
the  Roman  de  la  Rose.  On  the  same  page  Professor  Grandgent  speaks 
of  the  'huge'  encyclopaedia  of  Isidore  of  Seville.  The  Origines  is  a 
work  of  quite  modest  proportions.  Probably  Professor  Grandgent  was 
thinking  of  the  Speculum  of  Vincent  of  Beauvais.  Reference  is  made 
on  p.  141  to  the  'impassioned  speech'  of  Queen  Guenever,  which  is  said 
to  have  been  the  occasion  of  the  cough  of  the  Lady  of  Malehaut  men- 
tioned by  Dante.  The  Queen  made  no  speech ;  it  was  her  question  of 
Lancelot,  '  Par  la  foi  que  vos  me  devez,  dont  vint  cest  amor  que  vos 
avez  en  moi  mise  si  grant  et  si  enterine  ? '  which  gave  rise  to  the  inci- 
dent of  'quella  che  tossio.'  On  p.  147  the  date  of  the  death  of  the 
Marquis  Hugh  of  Brandenburg  is  given  as  1007.  This  is  an  error 
(apparently  copied  from  Professor  Torraca's  commentary)  for  1001. 
There  is  a  misprint  (antico  for  antica)  in  the  note  on  Par.  xv,  97. 

P.  T. 


NEW   PUBLICATIONS. 

September — November,   1913. 

GENERAL. 

BALDENSPERGER,    F.,    La    literature,    creation,    succes,    duree.       Paris,    E. 

Flammarion.     3  fr.  50. 
BAUMANN,  G.,  Ursprung  und  Wachstum  der  Sprache.     Munich,  Oldenbourg. 

4  M.  50. 

BETTELHEIM,  A.,  Biographenwege.    Reden  und  Aufsatze.    Berlin,  Paetel.     6  M. 
BRUGMANN,  K.,  und  DELBRUCK,  B.,  Grundriss  der  vergleichenden  Grammatik 

der    indogermanischen    Sprachen.     2.    Bearbeitung.     n.    Band.     3.   Abt., 

1.  Lieferung.     Strassburg,  Triibner.     14  M.  50. 
GORLAND,   A.,   Die    Idee    des    Schicksals    in    der    Geschiehte    der    Tragodie. 

Tubingen,  J.  C.  B.  Mohr.     3  M. 
FAGUET,    E.,    Initiation    into    Literature.     London,   Williams    and    Norgate. 

3s.  Qd.  net. 
SPENCE,  L.,  A  Dictionary  of  medieval  romance  and  romance  writers.     London, 

Routledge.     8s.  Qd.  net. 
SWEET,  H.,  Collected  Papers.     Arranged  by  H.  C.  Wyld.     Oxford,  Clarendon 

Press.     18s.  net. 

ROMANCE   LANGUAGES. 
Medieval  Latin. 

BEESON,  C.  H.,  Isidor-Studien.  (Quellen  und  Untersuchungen  zur  lateinischen 
Philologie  des  Mittelalters,  iv,  2.)  Munich,  C.  H.  Beck.  7  M. 

JOHANNES  MONACHUS,  Liber  de  miractflis.  Ein  neuer  Beitrag  zur  mittelalter- 
lichen  Monchsliteratur  von  M.  Huber.  (Sammlung  mittelalterlicher 
Texte,  vn.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  3  M.  30. 

MEARNS,  J.,  Early  Latin  Hymnaries  :  an  Index  of  Hymns  in  Hymnaries  before 
1100.  Cambridge,  Univ.  Press.  5s.  net. 

PIRSON,  J.,  Merowingische  und  Karolingische  Formulare.  (Sammlung  vulgar- 
lateinischer  Texte,  v.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  1  M.  30. 

WINTERFELD,  P.  VON,  Deutsche  Dichter  des  lateinischen  Mittelalters.  In 
deutschen  Versen.  Herausg.  von  H.  Reich.  Munich,  C.  H.  Beck.  8  M.  50. 

Italian. 

ARETINO,  P.,  11  primo  libro  delle  lettere,  a  cura  di  F.  Nicolini.  (Scrittori 
d'ltalia,  LIII.)  Bari,  G.  Laterza.  5  L.  50. 

AUBEL,  E.,  Leon  Battista  Alberti  e  i  libri  sulla  famiglia.  Citta  di  Castello, 
Lapi.  2  L. 

BERTONI,  G.,  L'elemento  gerrnanico  nella  lingua  italiana.  Genua,  Formiggini. 
10  L. 


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BOCCACCIO,  G.,  Ninfale  Fiesolano.  Kritischer  Text  von  B.  Wiese.  (Sammlung 
romanischer  Elemental1-  und  Handbiicher,  v,  3.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter. 
2  M.  80. 

CARDUCCI,  G.,  A  Selection  of  his  Poems.  With  verse  translations,  notes  and 
three  introductory  essays,  by  G.  L.  Bickersteth.  London,  Longmans. 
10s.  Qd.  net. 

CHARLTON,  H.  B.,  Castelvetro's  Theory  of  Poetry.  Manchester,  Sherratt  and 
Hughes.  5«.  net. 

DE  GUBERNATIS,  A.  G.  Parini :  Corso  di  lezioni  fatte  nella  Universita  di  Roma. 
Florence,  Le  Monnier.  3  L. 

DE  SANCTIS,  F.,  Lettere  da  Zurigo  a  D.  Marvasi  (1856-60),  pubblicate  da 
E.  Marvasi.  Con  prefazione  e  note  di  B.  Croce.  Naples,  Ricciardi.  2  L. 

FEDERZONI,  G.,  Nuovi  studi  e  diporti  danteschi.  (Collezione  dantesca,  in.) 
Citta  di  Castello,  S.  Lapi.  3  L. 

FOSCOLO,  U.,  Prose,  a  cura  di  V.  Cian.  Vol.  n.  (Scrittori  d'ltalia,  LVII.) 
Bari,  G.  Laterza.  5  L.  50. 

GORI,  G.,  II  mantello  d'Arlecchino :  critica  letteraria.  Turin,  Tip.  editr. 
nazionale.  4  L. 

HOWELL,  A.  G.  F.,  S.  Bernardino  of  Siena,  with  a  chapter  on  S.  Bernardino  in 
Art  by  Julia  Cartwright.  London,  Methuen.  10s.  60?.  net. 

LORENZO  DE'  MEDICI,  Opere,  a  cura  di  A.  Simioni.  Vol.  I.  (Scrittori  d'ltalia, 
LIV.)  Bari,  G.  Laterza.  5  L.  50. 

NERI,  F.,  Scenari  delle  maschere  in  Arcadia.  (Document!  di  storia  letteraria 
italiana,  i.)  Citta  di  Castello,  S.  Lapi.  1  L.  50. 

Opuscoli  e  lettere  di  Riformatori  italiani  del  Cinquecento,  a  cura  di  G.  Paladino. 
Vol.  i.  (Scrittori  d'ltalia,  LVIII.)  Bari,  G.  Laterza.  5  L.  50. 

PARINI,  G.,  Prose,  a  cura  di  E.  Bellorini.  Vol.  i.  (Scrittori  d'ltalia,  LV.) 
Bari,  G.  Laterza.  5  L.  50. 

PRANZETTI,  E.,  Prose  e  poesie  scelte  di  G.  Gozzi.     Naples,  Casella.     2  L. 

RICCI,  C.,  Pagine  dantesche.  (Collezione  di  opuscoli  danteschi  inediti  o  rari, 
cxxvii,  cxxvin.)  Citta  di  Castello,  S.  Lapi.  1  L.  60. 

SERBAN,  N.,  Leopardi  et  la  France.  (Essai  de  litterature  comparee.)  Paris, 
E.  Champion.  12  fr.  50. 

Studii  su  Giovanni  Boccaccio.  Prefazione  di  0.  Bacci.  Florence,  B  Seeber. 
6L. 

TOSTO,  A.,  Le  commedie  di  L.  Ariosto :  studio  critico-storico.  Acireale,  Tip. 
editr.  xx.  secolo.  4  L.  50. 

Trattati  del  Cinquecento  sulla  donna,  a  cura  di  G.  Zonta.  (Scrittori  d'ltalia, 
LVI.)  Bari,  G.  Laterza.  5  L.  50. 

TREVES,  E.,  L" Opera'  di  Nanni  Pegolotti  con  in  appendice  il  Canzoniere. 
(Collezione  di  opuscoli  danteschi  inediti  o  rari,  cxxv,  cxxvi.)  Citt&  di 
Castello,  S.  Lapi.  1  L.  60. 

VILLARI,  P.,  N.  Macchiavelli  e  i  suoi  tempi.  3da  edizione.  Vol.  in.  Milan, 
Hoepli.  5  L. 

Spanish. 

CERVANTES,  M.  DE,  El  ingenioso  Hidalgo  Don  Quijote  de  la  Mancha.  vn. 
Edici<5n  y  Notas  de  F.  Rodriguez  Marin.  (Clasicos  castellanos,  xix.) 
Madrid,  'La  Lectura.' 


138  Neiv  Publications 

FITZMAURICE-KELLY,   J.,    Litterature    espagnole.      2e    edit.     Paris,   A.    Colin. 

5fr. 
FITZMAURICE-KELLY,   J.,   Bibliographic    de  la   litterature   espagnole.      Paris, 

A.  Colin.     2  fr. 
FITZMAURICE-KELLY,  J.,  Miguel  de  Cervantes  Saavedra  :  a  Memoir.     Oxford, 

Clarendon  Press.     7s.  Qd.  net. 
ROJAS,   F.   DE,  La   Celestina.     i.     Edici6n  y  Notas  de  J.  Cejador  y  Franca. 

(Clasicos  castellanos,  xx.)     Madrid,  4  La  Lectura.' 
VILLEGAS,  Erotica  6  Amatorias.     Edition  y  Notas  de  N.  A.  Cortes.     (Clasicos 

castellanos,  xxi.)     Madrid,  '  La  Lectura.' 

Provei^al. 

LEVY,    E.,    Provenzalisches   Supplement- Worterbuch.     xxxn.   Heft.     Leipzig, 

0.  R.  Reisland.     4  M. 
NOSTREDAME,  J.  DE,  Les  vies  des  plus  celebres  et  anciens  poetes  proven9aux. 

Paris,  E.  Champion.     20  fr. 

French. 

(a)     General  (incl.  Linguistic). 

BRUNOT,  F.,  Histoire  de  la  langue  frangaise.  Tome  iv,  l«re  partie.  La  langue 
classique  (1660-1715).  Paris,  A.  Colin.  18  fr. 

DERI  AT,  M.  J.,  Histoire  de  la  litterature  frangaise.     Paris,  Belin.     3  fr. 

GRAMMONT,  M.,  Les  vers  frangais  (Expression — harmonic).  (Collection  lin- 
guistique.)  Paris,  E.  Champion.  12  fr. 

SUCHIER,  H.  and  BIRCH-HIRSCHFELD,  A.,  Geschichte  der  franzosischen  Literatur 
von  den  altesten  Zeiten  bis  zur  Gegenwart.  2.  Aufl.  2.  Bande.  Leipzig, 
Bibl.  Institut.  10  M. 

(6)     Old  French. 

ANGLADE,  J.,  La  bataille  de  Muret.  Texte  et  traduction.  Paris,  E.  Champion. 
2  fr. 

BEDIER,  J.,  The  Romance  of  Tristan  and  Iseult :  drawn  from  the  best  French 
sources  and  retold  by  J.  Bedier.  Transl.  by  H.  Belloo.  London,  G.  Allen. 
2s.  Qd.  net. 

FARAL,  £.,  Recherches  sur  les  sources  latines  des  contes  et  romans  courtois  du 
moyen  age.  Paris,  E.  Champion.  10  fr. 

MASON,  E.,  Old  World  Love  Stories:  from  the  Lays  of  Marie  de  France  and 
other  mediaeval  romances  and  legends.  London,  Dent.  10s.  6d.  net. 

OULMONT,  CH.,  La  poesie  frangaise  du  moyen  age  (xie— xve  siecles),  recueil  de 
textes  avec  traduction,  notices  et  etude  litteraire.  Paris,  Mercure  de 
France.  3  fr.  50. 

(c)     Modern  French. 

BALZAC,  H.  DE,  Comedie  humaine.  Tome  xm.  Scenes  de  la  vie  parisienne. 
Paris,  L.  Conard.  9  fr. 

BOSSUET,  Correspondance,  nouv.  edit.,  publ.  avec  notes  par  Ch.  Urbain  et 
E.  Levesque.  Tome  vn.  Paris,  Hachette.  7  fr.  50. 

BROOKS,  V.  W.,  The  Malady  of  the  Ideal :  Obermann,  M.  de  Gu^rin,  and  Amiel. 
London,  Fifield.  2s.  net. 

BRUNETIERE,  F.,  H.  de  Balzac.     London,  Nelson.     Is.  net. 

BUFFENOIR,  H.,  Les  portraits  de  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau.  Tome  I.  Paris, 
E.  Leroux.  20  fr. 


New  Publications 


139 


CHAMPION,  P.,  Frai^ois  Villon,  sa  vie  et  son  temps.  2  vols.  Paris,  E.  Champion. 
20  fr. 

Chansons  populaires  des  loe  et  16e  siecles  avec  leurs  melodies.  (Bibliotheca 
romanica,  190—192.)  Strassburg,  J.  H.  E.  Heitz.  1  M.  20. 

CHINARD,  G.,  L'Amerique  et  le  reVe  exotique  dans  la  litterature  frangaiee  an 
xvne  et  an  xviii6  siecle.  Paris,  Hachette.  3  fr.  50. 

CRU,  R.  L.,  Diderot  as  a  disciple  of  English  thought.  London,  H.  Milford. 
8s.  Qd.  net. 

DUPOUY,  A.,  A.  de  Vigny,  sa  vie  et  son  oeuvre.     Paris,  Larousse.     1  fr. 

ESCOUBE,  P.,  Preferences.  Ch.  Guerin,  R.  de  Gourmont,  S.  Mallarme,  J. 
Lafargue,  P.  Verlaine.  Paris,  Mercure  de  France.  3  fr.  50. 

FAGUET,  E.,  En  lisant  Corneille.     Paris,  Hachette.     3  fr.  50. 

FAGUET,  £.,  Petite  histoire  de  la  litterature  fran9aise.     London,  Dent.     Is.  net. 

HARRY,  G.,  M.  Maeterlinck,  e"tude  biographique.    Paris,  P.  Ferdinando.    2  fp.J>0. 

HEISS,  H.,  Balzac.  Sein  Leben  und  seine  Werke.  Heidelberg,  C:  Winter. 
6M. 

KEIM,  A.  et  LUMET,  L.,  Diderot.     Paris,  Lafitte.     1  fr.  95. 

MARTINO,  P.,  Le  roman  realiste  sous  le  second  Empire.  Paris,  Hachette. 
3  fr.  50. 

MURGER,  H.,  Scenes  de  la  Boheme.  Serie  romantique.  Paris,  E.  Champion. 
10  fr. 

RABELAIS,  F.,  Gargaritua.  Tome  n.  Edition  critique  publ.  par  A.  Lefranc. 
Paris,  E.  Champion.  10  fr. 

RONSARD,  P.  DE,  (Euvres.  Odes.  2e  Livre.  Ed.  par  H.  Vaganay.  (Bibliotheca 
romanica,  193.)  Strassburg,  J.  H.  E.  Heitz.  40  pf. 

S^CHE,  L.,  Etudes  d'histoire  romantique.  A.  de  Vigny.  2  Tomes.  Paris, 
Mercure  de  France.  7  fr. 

VIGNY,  A.  DE,  Lettres  inedites  a  E.  Delprat  et  au  Capitaine  de  La  Coudree 
(1824-53),  introduction  et  notes  par  L.  de  Bordes  de  Fortages.  Bordeaux, 
Mounastre-Picamille.  5  fr. 

VIGNY,  A.  DE,  Servitude  et  grandeur  militaires,  notes  de  F.  Balden sperger. 
Paris,  L.  Conard.  7  fr. 

ZWEIG,  S.,  Paul  Verlaine.     Dublin,  Maunsel.     2s.  Qd.  net. 


GERMANIC   LANGUAGES. 
General. 

PAETZEL,  W.,  Die  Variationen  in  der  altgerrnauischen  Alliterationspoesie. 
(Palaestra,  XLVIII.)  Berlin,  Mayer  und  Miiller.  6  M.  50. 

PADLUSSEN,  H.,  Rhythrnik  und  Technik  des  sechsfiissigen  Iambus  im  Deutschen 
und  Englischen.  (Bonner  Studien  zur  englischen  Philologie,  ix.)  Bonn, 
P.  Hanstein.  2  M.  80. 

Scandinavian. 

AASEN,  L,  Granskaren,  maalreisaren,  diktaren.  Ei  minneskrift  um  livsverket 
hans  ved  A..  Garborg,  A.  Hovden,  H.  Koht.  Christiania,  Norli.  2  kr.  75. 

BRANDES,  G.,Fugleperspektiv.     Copenhagen,  Gyldendal.     7  kr.  50. 

BRIX,  H.,  Johannes  Ewald.  En  Rsekke  kritiske  Undersogelser.  Copenhagen, 
Gyldendal.  3  kr.  50. 


140  New  Publications 

Gamalnorske  Bokverk,  utjevne  av  De  uorske  samlaget.  xi.  Soga  um  Grette 
Aasmundsson.  xiv.  Kongespegelen  (Konungs  skuggsja)  andra  parten. 
1  kr.  10,  and  90  ore. 

HOST,  S.,  Om  Holbergs  historiske  Skrifter.     Bergen,  J.  Grieg.     2  kr.  50. 
JEPSEN,  M.,  Selma  Lagerlof.     Aarhus,  Nationale  Forfatteres  Forlag.     2  kr. 
KNDDSEN,  CH.,  Holbergs  Tid  og  Oplysningstiden.     Dansk  Litteraturhistorie 
i  det  18.  Aarhundrede.     Svendborg,  Brandt.     1  kr.  50. 

Kongesagaer,   Norges.     Samlet   utgave   oversat  ved   G.  Storm   og  A.  Bugge. 

1.  Hefte.     Christiania,  Stenersen. 

LYTTKENS,  A.,  Svenska  vaxtnamn.     Hefte  9.     Stockholm,  Fritze.     4  kr. 
OLSVIG,  V.,  Holberg  og  England.     Christiania,  Aschehoug.     6  kr.  20. 

PALUDAN,  J.,  Danmarks  Litteratur  i  Holbergtiden.  Aarhus,  Nationale  For- 
fatteres Forlag.  2  kr.  75. 

ROSENDAL,  H.,  N.  F.  S.  Grundtvig.     Et  Livsbillede.     Copenhagen,  Hagerup. 

3kr. 
SIMONSEN,  K.,  Georg  Brandes.     Jodisk  Aand  i  Danmark.     Aarhus,  Nationale 

Forfatteres  Forlag.     3  kr. 

SNOILSKY,   C.,   Samlade   dikter.      Xationaluppl.      Bd.    i.     Stockholm,   Geber. 

1  kr.  75. 

STRINDBERG,  A.,  Samlade  Skrifter,  xv,  xvn.     Stockholm,  Bonnier.     5  kr.  and 

2  kr.  25. 

Tegner-Studier.  i.  C.  Santesson,  Tegners  reflexion sdiktning  1801-5.  n.  A. 
Silow,  Tegners  boklaan  i  Lunds  universitetsbibliotek.  (Uppsala  univer- 
sitets  Aarsskrift.)  Stockholm,  Bonnier.  3  kr.  75. 

THORKELSSON,  J.,  Anmaerkninger  til  J.  Fritzners  Ordbog  over  det  gamle  norske 
Sprog.  Reykjavik  (Copenhagen,  Host).  3  kr.  30. 

Dutch,  Frisian,  Low  German. 

KRUGER,  H.  K.  A.,  Geschichte  der  niederdeutschen  oder  plattdeutschen 
Literatur.  Schwerin,  Stiller.  4  M. 

SIPMA,  P.,  Phonology  and  Grammar  of  Modern  West  Frisian.  With  phonetic 
texts  and  glossary.  London,  H.  Milford.  10s.  60?.  net. 

VONDEL,  J.  VAN,  Inwydinge  van  't  stadthuis  t'  Amsterdam,  1545.  Van  een 
inleiding  en  aanteekeningen  voorzien  door  M.  E.  Kronen  berg.  Deventer, 
Kluver.  1  fl.  25. 

English. 

(a)     General. 

NUSSER,  0.,  Geschichte  der  Disjunktivkoristruktion  im  Englischen.  (Angli- 
stische  Forschungen,  xxxvu.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  5  M.  40. 

PETRI,  A.,  Ubersicht  iiber  die  im  Jahre  1906  auf  dem  Gebiete  der  englischen 
Philologie  erschienenen  Biicher,  Schriften  uiid  Aufsatze.  (Anglia,  xxxi, 
Suppl.  Heft.)  Halle,  Niemeyer.  6  M. 

ZACHRISSON,  R.  E.,  The  Pronunciation  of  English  Vowels,  1400—1700.  (Gb'te- 
borgs  kungl.  vetenskaps-  och  vitterhetssamhalles  Handlingar.)  Goteborg, 
Wettergren  och  Kerber.  4  kr.  50. 

(6)     Old  and  Middle  English. 

GREG,  W.  W.,  Facsimiles  of  Twelve  Early  English  MSS.  in  the  Library 
of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  Edited  with  transcriptions.  London, 
H.  Milford.  Is.  6d.  net. 


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Patience,  an  alliterative  version  of  Jonah,'  by  the  poet  of  the  '  Pearl.'  Edited 
by  I.  Gollancz.  (Select  Early  English  Poems,  i.)  London,  H.  Milford. 
2s.  Qd.  net. 

Perceval  of  Gales,  Sir,  Herausg.  von  J.  Campion  und  F.  Holthausen.  (Alt- 
und  mittelenglische  Texte,  v.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  2  M.  50. 

SARRAZIN,  G.,  Von  Kadmon  bis  Kyuewulf.  Eine  literarhistorische  Studie. 
Berlin,  Mayer  und  Miiller.  4  M. 

(c)     Modern  English. 

ALLOT,  R.,  England's  Parnassus,  1600.  Edited  by  Charles  Crawford.  Oxford, 
Clarendon  Press.  7s.  Qd.  net. 

ANDERSEN,  V.  E.  J.,  0m  Hjemfolelsens  Indsats  i  det  18.  Aarhundredes  engelske 
Poesi.  Aalborg,  Schultz.  3  kr. 

ARMSTRONG,  C.  F.,  Shakespeare  to  Shaw  :  Studies  in  the  life's  work  of  six 
dramatists  of  the  English  stage.  London,  Mills  and  Boon.  6s. 

AYDELOTTE,  F.,  Elizabethan  Rogues  and  Vagabonds  and  their  representation 
in  contemporary  literature.  (Oxford  Historical  and  Literary  Studies,  i.) 
Oxford,  Clarendon  Press.  7s.  Qd.  net. 

BEN  SUSAN,  S.  L.,  Coleridge.     (People's  Books.)     London,  Jack.     Qd.  net. 

BOURGEOIS,   M.,  J.  M.   Synge  and  the   Irish   Theatre.     London,   Constable. 

7s.  Qd.  net. 

BOYNTON,  P.  H.,  London  in  English  Literature.  Chicago,  Univ.  Press  (Cambridge, 
Univ.  Press).  85.  net. 

BRAILSFORD,  H.  N.,  Shelley,  Godwin,  and  their  circle.  (Home  University 
Library.)  London,  Williams  and  Norgate.  Is.  net. 

BRANDL,  A.,  Shakespeare  and  Germany :  a  lecture.  (British  Academy.)  London, 
H.  Milford.  Is.  net. 


BREWSTER,  0.,  Aaroii  Hill,  poet,  dramatist,  projector. 
6s.  Qd.  net. 


London,  H.  Milford. 


BROADLEY,  A.  M.  and  JERROLD,  W.,  The  Romance  of  an  elderly  poet :  a  hitherto 
unknown  chapter  in  the  life  of  G.  Crabbe.  London,  S.  Paul.  10s.  Qd.  net. 

Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature,  The,  edited  by  Sir  A.  W.  Ward  and 
A.  R.  Waller.  Vol.  x.  The  Age  of  Johnson.  Cambridge,  Univ.  Press. 
9s.  net. 

CORNISH,  F.  W.,  Jane  Austen.  (English  Men  of  Letters.)  London,  Macmillan. 
2s.  net. 

DUCKITT,  M.  and  WRAGG,  H.,  Selected  English  Letters,  xvth — xixth  Centuries. 
(The  World's  Classics.)  London,  H.  Milford.  Is.  net. 

ECKEL,  J.  Cv  The  First  Editions  of  the  Writings  of  Charles  Dickens  and  their 
values:  a  bibliography.  London,  Chapman  and  Hall.  12s.  Qd.  net. 

ESCOTT,  T.  H.  S.,  Anthony  Trollope :  his  work,  associates  and  literary  originals. 
London,  Lane.  12s.  Qd.  net. 

FITZGERALD,  P.,  Memories  of  Charles  Dickens  :  with  an  account  of  '  Household 
Words'  and  'All  the  Year  Round'  and  of  the  contributors  thereto.  Bristol, 
Arrowsmith.  12s.  Qd.  net. 

HARVEY,  G.,  Marginalia.  Collected  and  edited  by  G.  C.  Moore  Smith.  Stratford- 
on-Avon,  Shakespeare  Head  Press.  16s.  net. 

KERRL,  A.,  Die  metrischen  Unterschiede  von  Shakespeares  King  John  und 
Julius  Caesar.  Eine  chronologische  Untersuchung.  (Bonner  Studien  zur 
englischen  Philologie.)  Bonn,  P.  Hanstein.  6  M. 


142  New  Publications 

KNIGHT,  W.,  Coleridge  and  Wordsworth  in  the  West  Country  :  their  friendship, 

work  and  surroundings.     London,  E.  Mathews.     7s.  6d.  net. 
LAW,  E.,  More  about  Shakespeare  'forgeries.'     London,  G.  Bell.     3s.  6d.  net. 
LUDEMANN,  E.  A.,  Shakespeares  Verwendung  von  gleichartigem  und  gegen- 

satzlichem  Parallelismus  bei  Figureii,  Situationen,  Motiven  und  Handlungen. 

(Bonner   Studien  zur   englischen    Philologie,    vn.)      Bonn,    P.    Hanstein. 

6M. 
LYTTON,  EARL,    The    Life   of    Edward   Bulwer,   First   Lord   Lytton.     2  vols. 

London,  Macmillan.     30.?.  net. 
Materialien  zur  Kunde  des  alteren  englischen  Dramas,    xxxiv,  3.    Crawford,  Cb., 

The  Marlowe  Concordance,  in.  Teil.     25  fr.     xxxix.  -A  Tale  of  a  Tub. 

Nach  dem  Drucke  von  1640  herausg.  von  H.  Scherer.    10  fr.    XL.    Hemings, 

W.,  The  Jewes  Tragedy,  nach  der  Quarto  1662  herausg.  von  H.  A.  Cohn. 

12  fr.  50.     Louvain,  Uystpruyst. 

MATHEWS,  B.,  Shakespeare  as  a  Playwright.     London,  Longmans.     15s.  net. 
McKERROW,  R.  B.,  Printers'  and  publishers'  devices  in  England  and  Scotland, 

1485—1640.     London,  Bibliographical  Society. 

MEDWIN,  TH.,  The  Life  of  P.  B.  Shelley.  New  ed.,  printed  from  a  copy 
copiously  amended  and  extended  by  the  author.  London,  Milford. 
12s.  Qd.  net. 

MEYNELL,  E.,  The  Life  of  F.  Thompson.     London,  Burns  and  Gates.     15s.  net. 

MORRIS,  W.,  Prose  and  Poetry,  1856—1870.  Oxford  Edition.  London,  Milford. 
Is.  net. 

NORTON,  C.  E.,  Letters.  With  biographical  comment  by  his  daughter  Sara 
Norton  and  M.  A.  J)e  Wolfe  Howe.  2  vols.  London,  Constable.  21s.  net. 

GLIVERO,  F.,  Saggi  di  letteratura  inglese.     Bari,  G.  Laterza.     5  L. 

RHYS,  E.,  Lyric  Poetry  (Channels  of  English  Literature).  London,  Dent. 
5s.  net. 

ROSSETTI,  D.  G.,  Poems  and  Translations,  1850-70.  London,  H.  Milford. 
Is.  6d.  net. 

SAINTSBURY,  G.,  The  English  Novel  (Channels  of  English  Literature).  London, 
Dent.  5s.  net. 

SCOTT-JAMES,  R.  A.,  Personality  in  Literature.     London,  M.  Seeker.     7s.  60?.  net. 
SEEMANN,  M.,  Sir  John  Davies,  sein  Leben  und  seine  Werke.     (Wiener  Beitrage 

zur  englischen  Philologie,  XLI.)     Vienna,  Braumiiller.     5  Kr. 
SHORTER,  C.  K.,  George  Borrow  and  his  Circle.    London,  Hodder  and  Stoughton. 

7s.  Qd.  net. 
STALKER,   J.,   How  to   read   Shakespeare :    a   guide  for  the  general  reader. 

London.  Hodder  and  Stoughton.     5s. 
STEEVES,  H.  R.,  Learned  Societies  and  English  Literary  Scholarship  in  Great 

Britain  and  the  United  States.     London,  H.  Milford.     6s.  6d.  net. 
STEPHENSON,  N.  W.,  The  Spiritual  Drama  in  the  life  of  Thackeray.     London, 

Hodder  and  Stoughton.     6s.  net. 
TENNYSON,  ALFRED,  LORD,  Works.     With  notes  by  the  author.     Edited,  with 

memoir,  by  Hallam,  Lord  Tennyson.     London,  Macmillan.     10s.  6d.  net. 
TENNYSON,  F.,  Shorter  Poems.    Edited  by  Ch.  Tennyson.    London,  Macmillan. 

5s.  net. 

THOMAS,  E.,  Walter  Pater :  a  critical  study.     London,  M.  Seeker.     7s.  6d.  net. 
THOMPSON,  F.,  Collected  Poetry.     London,  Hodder  and  Stoughton.     20s.  net. 
WIRL,  J.,  Orpheus  in  der  englischen  Literatur.    (Wiener  Beitrage  zur  englischen 

Philologie,  XL.)     Vienna,.  W.  Braumuller.     5  Kr. 


New  Publications 


143 


WULPFEN,  E.,  Shakespeares  Hamlet,  em  Sexualproblem.  Berlin,  C.  Duncker. 
4M. 

ZEITLIN,  J.,  Hazlitt  on  English  Literature  :  an  Introduction  to  the  appreciation 
of  literature.  London,  H.  Milford.  5s.  net. 

German. 

(a)     General. 

BROCK,  J.,  Hygins  Fabelu  in  der  deutschen  Literatim  Quellenstudien  und 
Beitrage  zur  Geschichte  der  deutschen  Literatur.  Munich,  Delphin-Verlaer. 
12  M. 

PINES,  M.,  Die  Geschichte  der  jiidisch-deutschen  Literatur.  Nach  dem 
franzosischen  Original  bearb.  von  G.  Hecht.  Leipzig,  G.  Engel.  4  M.  50. 

(6)     Old  and  Middle  High  German. 

ARNOLD,  PRIESTER,  Gedicht  von  der  Siebenzahl,  herausg.  von  H.  Polzer-van 
Kol.  (Sprache  und  Dichtung,  xin.)  Bern,  A.  Francke.  5  fr.  60. 

BUSSE,  E.  K.,  Ulrich  von  Turheim.     (Palaestra,  cxxi.)     Berlin,   Mayer  vUnd 

Muller.     6  M.  80. 
PAPKE,    M.,    Das    Marienleben  des  Schweizers  Wernher.     (Palaestra,  LXXXI.) 

Berlin,  Mayer  und  Muller.     5  M.  60. 

UHL,  W.,  Winiliod.     Supplement.     (Teutonia,  v.)     Leipzig,  H.  Haessel.     6  M. 

WELZ,  J.,  Die  Eigennamen  im  Codex  Laureshamensis  (aus  dem  Lobdengau  und 
Wiirttemberg).  (Untersuchungen  zur  deutschen  Sprachgeschichte,  iv.) 
Strassburg,  K.  T.  Trubner.  3  M.  50. 

(c)     Modern  German. 

BLEYER,  J.,  F.  Schlegel  am  Bundestage  in  Frankfurt.  Ungedruckte  Briefe. 
Munich,  Duncker  und  Humblot.  4  M. 

BODE,  W.,  Goethes  Liebesleben.     Berlin,  E.  S.  Mittler.     5  M. 

DAVIDTS,  H.,  Die  novellistische  Kunst  H.  von  Kleists.  (Bonner  Forschungen,  v.) 
Berlin,  G.  Grote.  4  M. 

DiiNNEBiER,  H.,  G.  Keller  und  L.  Feuerbach.  Zurich,  Verlag  'Weltensegler.' 
3  fr. 

EICHENDORFF,  J.  VON,  Gesammelte  Werke.     vi.     Munich,  G.  Muller.     4  M. 

ELSON,  CH.,  Wieland  and  Shaftesbury.     London,  H.  Milford.     4s.  6d.  net. 

ESSER,  N.,  R.  Edinger  und  K.  Ulenberg,  zwei  Kolner  Psalteriibersetzer.  Ein 
Beitrag  zur  Geschichte  des  deutschen  Kirchenliedes  im  16.  Jahrh.  (Beitrage 
zur  Literaturgeschichte  und  Kulturgeschichte  des  Rheinlandes,  in.)  Bonn, 
P.  Hanstein.  2  M. 

FALCONNET,  L.,  Un  essai  de  renovation   theatrale.     'Die  Makkabaer'  d'Otto 

Ludwig.     Paris,  E.  Champion.     3  fr. 
FASSBINDER,  F.,  Friedrich   Hebbel.     (Gorres-Gesellschaft  :   n.   Vereinschrift.) 

Cologne,  J.  P.  Bachem.     1  M.  80. 
GRILLPARZER,  F.,  Werke,  herausg.  von  A.  Sauer.    n.  Band  und  in.  Abt.,  1.  Bd. 

Vienna,  Gerlach  und  Wiedling.     Each  9  kr. 
HEBBEL,    F.,    Samtliche     Werke.       Historisch-kritische     Ausgabe.      I.  Abt., 

ix.— xii.    Band.     Berlin,  B.  Behr.     Each  2  M.  50. 

HEERS,  A.,  Das  Leben  F.  von  Matthissons.     Leipzig,  Xenien-Verlag.     3  M. 
HEINSE,   W.,   Sammtliche   Werke,   herausg.  von   C.    Schiiddekopf.     I.    Band. 

Leipzig,  Insel-Verlag.     6  M. 
HERDER,  J.  G.,  Sammtliche  Werke,  herausg.  von  B.  Suphan.     xxxin.  Band. 

Berlin,  Weidmanri.     5  M. 
HERFORD,  C.  H.,  Goethe.     (People's  Books.)     London,  Jack.     6d.  net. 


144  New  Publications 

HERZ,  HENRIETTE,  Ihr  Leben  und  ihre  Zeit.     Herausg.  von  H.   Landsberg. 

Weimar,  G.  Kiepenheuer.     6  M. 
KANEHL,  O.,  Der  junge  Goethe  ini  Urteile  des  jungen  Deutschland.    Greifswald, 

L.  Bamberg.     3  M.  60. 
KOSCH,  W.,  Das  deutsche  Theater  und  Drama  im  19.  Jahrhundert.     Leipzig, 

Dyk.     4  M. 
KRUGER,  J.,  F.  Schlegels  Bekehrung  zu  Lessing.     (Forschungen  zur  neueren 

Literaturgeschichte,  XLV.)     Weimar,  A.  Duncker.     3  M.  60. 
LAUSCHDS,  L.,  tJber  Technik  und  Stil  der  Romane  und  Novellen  Immermanus. 

(Bonner  Forschungen,  vi.)     Berlin,  G.  Grote.     4  M. 
LENZ,  I.  M.  K.,  Uber  die  Soldatenehen.     Nach  der  Handschrift  der  Berliner 

kgl.  Bibl.  herausg.  von  K.  Freye.     Leipzig,  K.  Wolff.     10  M. 
LILJEDAHL,  E.,  Goethes   Karlek.     in.   Brytningen   med  Charlotte   von  Stein. 

Stockholm,  H.  Geber.     3  kr. 

LITZMANN,  B.,  E.  von  Wildenbruch.    i.  Band,  1845-85.    Berlin,  G.  Grote.    8  M. 
LUTHER,  M.,  Tischreden,  n.  Band.     Weimar,  H.  Bohlau.     22  M. 
LUTHER,  M.,  Werke.    Kritische  Gesamtausgabe.   XLIX.  Bd.   Weimar,  H.  Bohlau. 

27  M.  20. 
MERKEL,  F.  R.,  Der  Naturphilosoph  G.  H.  Schubert  und  die  deutsche  Romantik. 

Munich,  C.  H.  Beck.     3  M.  50. 
MEYER,  R.  M.,  Peutsche  Parodien.    Deutsches  Lied  im  Spottlied  von  Gottsched 

bis  auf  unsere  Zeit.     (Pandora,  xn.)     Munich,  G.  Miiller.     2  M.  50. 
MEYER-BENPEY,  IL,  Das  Drama  Heinrich  von  Kleists.     n.  Band.     Gottingen, 

0.  Hapke.     12  M. 

MEYER-BENFEY,  H.,  Hebbels  Dramen.     i.  Judith.     Gottingen,  0.  Hapke.    2  M. 
MULLER,  J.,  Jean    Paul.     Biographic   und   Spruchauswahl.     Leipzig,  Xeriien- 

Verlag.     3  M. 
REUTER,   F.,  Briefe.     Gesamt-Ausgabe,   herausg.    von   0.    Weltzien.     Leipzig, 

Hesse  und  Becker.     2  M.  50. 
SCHILLER,  F.  VON,  Gesprache  und  andere  Zeugnisse  aus  seinem  Umgang.    Volks- 

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3M. 
SCHLEGEL,  DOROTHEA  und  FRIEDRICH,  Briefe  an  die  Familie  Paulus,  herausg. 

von  R.  .Unger.     (Deutsche  Literaturdenkmale  des  18.  und  19.  Jahrh.  146.) 

Berlin,  B.  Behr.     4  M. 
SCHNUPP,  W.,  Klassische  Prosa.     Die  Kunst-  und  Lebensanschauungen  der 

deutschen  Klassiker  in  ihrer  Entwicklung.    I.    Leipzig,  B.  G.  Teubner.    6  M. 
SEYPFERT,  W.,  Schillers  Musenalmanache.     (Palaestra,  LXXX.)     Berlin,  Mayer 

und  Miiller.     4  M.  80. 

SPIERO,  H.,  Das  Werk  Wilhelm  Raabes.     Leipzig,  Xenien-Verlag.     3  M. 
STEIG,  R.  und  GRIMM,  H.,  Achim   v6n   Arnim  und  die  ihm  nahe  standen. 

ii.  Band.     Stuttgart,  Cotta.     10  M. 
STROBL,   J.,  Studien   iiber  die  literarische   Tatigkeit   Kaiser   Maximilians   I. 

Berlin,  G.  Reimer.     5  M. 

THORN,  E.,  H.  Heines  Beziehungen  zu  Clemens  Brentano.     (Berliner  Beitrage 
zur  germanischen  und  romanischen  Philologie,  XLVI.)     Berlin,  E.  Ebering. 
5  M.  20. 
TRAUMANN,  E.,  Goethe's  Faust.    Nach  Entstehun?  und  Inhalt  erklart.    n.  Band. 

Munich,  C.  H.  Beck.     6  M. 

WIELAND,  C.  M.,  Gesammelte  Schriften.  Herausg.  von  der  deutschen  KOIII mis- 
sion der  kgl.  preuss.  Akadernie.  n.  Abt.  iv.  Band.  Berlin,  Weidmann. 
13  M.  60. 


VOLUME  IX 


APRIL,   1914 


NUMBER  2 


THE   'ANCREN    RIWLE1.' 

II. 

THE  ENGLISH  TEXT. 
The  following  are  the  manuscripts  of  the  Ancren  Riwle  in  English : 

B.  Corpus  Christi  College,  Cambridge,  402.  Leaves  of  8f"  x  6", 
a  larger  size  than  any  other  thirteenth  century  copy :  very  clearly  and 
regularly  written  in  a  hand  of  the  first  half  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
the  same  throughout,  in  single  column,  28  lines  to  the  page.  The  text 
occupies  ff.  1 — 117,  but  two  leaves  are  lost  between  ff.  14  and  15,  con- 
taining the  text  corresponding  to  p.  56,  1.  24 — p.  64,  1.  8  of  Morton's 
edition  ('  dude  ]mrh  ' — '  eie  sihfte  one ')  as  well  as  the  beginning  of  a 
passage  which  does  not  occur  in  Morton's  text.  The  book  is  entitled 
Ancrene  Wisse2,  and  a  footnote  on  the  first  page  states  that  it  once 
belonged  to  the  Church  of  St  James  of  Wigmore  (that  is,  Wigmore 
Abbey)  to  which  it  was  presented  by  John  Purcell  at  the  instance  of 
Walter  de  Ludlow  senior,  the  Precentor3.  This  manuscript,  apart  from 
the  additional  passages  that  it  contains,  which  will  be  dealt  with  later, 
undoubtedly  gives  us  the  most  correct  text.  It  is  exceptionally  accurate 
in  the  matter  of  punctuation,  and  (it  may  be  particularly  remarked) 
usually  distinguishes  questions  by  a  note  of  interrogation4.  I  have  called 
it  B  (from  Benet  College),  the  letter  C  being  already  appropriated. 

T.  Cotton,  Titus,  D.  xviii.  Leaves  measuring  6£"  x  4J"  written 
in  double  column,  20 — -30  lines  to  the  column :  first  half  of  the  thirteenth 
century.  The  Ancren  Riwle  occupies  if.  14 — 105,  imperfect  at  the 


Ancren  Kiwle '  does 


1  Continued  from  p.  78. 

3  This  seems  to  be  the  only  title  which  has  original  authority, 
not  occur  in  any  of  the  MSS.,  so  far  as  I  know. 

3  The  expression  is  '  ad  mstanciam  fratris  Walter!  de  ~Lode\aive  senioris  t?mc  precewtoris.' 
The  surname  k  de  Lodelawe '  or  '  de  Lodelowe '  frequently  occurs  in  the  episcopal  Eegisters  of 
Hereford,  but  I  think  we  may  pretty  safely  identify  this  man  with  the  *  Walter  de  Lodelawe 
senior '  who  is  mentioned  among  the  leading  Canons  of  Wigmore  about  the  year  1300  :  see 
the  Eegister  of  .Richard  de  Swinfield  (Cantelupe  Society,  1909)  under  date  13  Oct.  1299. 
He  was  elected  Abbot  in  1302,  but  declined  the  office. 

4  This  is  sometimes  done  also  in  the  other  MSS. 


M.   L.  R.   IX. 


10 


146  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

beginning,  having  lost  the  text  corresponding  to  pp.  2 — 42  of  Morton's 
edition.  The  manuscript  has  also  lost  one  leaf  between  ff.  39  and  40 
(pp.  142,  15—146,  12),  and  another  between  ff.  68  and  69  (pp.  272, 
26—276,  25). 

N.  Cotton,  Nero,  A.  xiv.  Leaves  measuring  5f  "  x  4J",  written  in 
single  column,  about  30  lines  to  the  page:  first  half  of  thirteenth 
century.  The  Ancren  Riwle  occupies  ff.  1 — 131.  This  is  the  text 
printed  by  Morton  for  the  Camden  Society. 

C.  Cotton,  Cleopatra  C.  vi.  Leaves  of  about  7f"  x  5f" :  ff.  3—197 
contain  the  Ancren  Riwle,  written  in  single  column  with  wide  margins, 
20 — 24  lines  to  the  page,  in  a  hand  of  the  thirteenth  century,  probably 
a  little  later  than  the  manuscripts  described  above.  Some  blank  spaces 
are  left  at  the  end  of  quires,  as  if  several  scribes  had  been  engaged  on 
the  book,  but  the  handwriting  looks  the  same  throughout,  apart  from 
the  corrections  and  glosses.  One  blank  page  (f.  56  v°)  has  been  filled 
up  in  a  later  hand  with  matter  which  has  nothing  to  do  with  our  text 
There  are  many  alterations  and  additions  in  various  hands,  the  altera- 
tions being  often  for  the  worse  and  with  a  view  to  the  substitution  of  a 
more  modern  or  familiar  form ;  but  in  a  good  many  instances  correc- 
tions, and  in  two  cases  additional  passages,  have  been  introduced  from 
a  manuscript  of  which  the  text  must  have  resembled  that  of  B.  Morton 
in  the  readings  cited  from  this  MS.  has  not  always  sufficiently  dis- 
criminated between  the  original  readings  and  the  later  alterations. 
In  some  cases  there  are  marginal  comments  added,  and  there  is  a 
tendency  to  add  proverbial  expressions  or  familiar  details. 

G.  Caius  College,  Cambridge,  234.  Leaves  of  5i"x3f":  ff.  1— 
93  r°  (pp.  1 — 185)  contain  portions  of  the  Ancren  Riwle,  written  in  single 
column,  about  20  lines  to  the  page,  in  a  small,  neat  hand  of  the 
thirteenth  century.  We  have  here  a  number  of  extracts,  written 
without  any  indication  of  gaps*  and  not  arranged  throughout  in  the 
order  of  the  book,  but  in  two  distinct  series.  The  contents  are  as 
follows,  in  the  order  in  which  they  come,  indicated  by  page  and  line  of 
Morton's  edition  :  pp.  120,  27— 126,  22  ;  144,11—146,6;  148,19—152, 
19;  298,  7—378,  3  ;  392,  16—400  (end) ;  98,  11—104,  13  ;  164,  1—174, 
2  ;  196,  28—218,  2 ;  248,  16—296  (end).  The  book  contains,  therefore, 
rather  less  than  half  of  the  whole  text.  I  have  called  it  G,  from 
Gonville  and  Caius  College,  to  which  it  belongs1. 

1  I  have  to  thank  Mr  Schneider,  the  College  Librarian,  for  kindly  placing  this  book  at 
my  disposal. 


G.    C.    MACAULAY 


147 


V.  Vernon  MS.  in  the  Bodleian  Library,  Oxford.  The  Ancren  Riwle 
originally  occupied  ff.  371  v° — 392  v°  of  this  manuscript,  but  three  leaves 
have  been  cut  out,  viz.  ff.  389—391,  containing  pp.  360,  23—420,  7  of 
Morton's  text,  and  after  this  the  conclusion  from  p.  420,  9  is  omitted, 
with  the  exception  of  p.  422,  1 — 10.  Public  attention  can  hardly  be 
said  to  have  been  called  to  this,  the  most  important  fourteenth  century 
copy.  There  is  no  reference  to  it  in  Halliwell's  account  of  the  contents 
of  this  MS.,  and  the  only  public  mention  of  it  with  which  I  am 
acquainted  is  an  obscure  allusion  by  Bramlette  in  Anglia,  xv,  p.  478. 
The  reference  is  in  this  form  :  '  There  is  also  a  Norman- English  MS. 
in  the  Vernon  collection/  and  in  a  note,  '  I  am  indebted  to  Prof.  Dr 
Eugen  Kolbing  for  this  information.'  Evidently  he  did  not  understand 
what  Kolbing  told  him.  No  meaning  can  be  attached  to  the  expression 
'  Norman- English '  in  this  connexion,  and  '  the  Vernon  collection  '  is  not 
a  very  intelligible  reference  to  the  Vernon  MS.  In  spite  of  the  mas- 
sive proportions  of  the  Vernon  MS.,  it  is  certainly  surprising  that  so 
extensive  a  work  as  the  Ancren  Riwle  should  have  remained  hidden  in 
its  recesses  for  so  long.  The  text  of  this  copy  of  the  Ancren  Riwle 
is,  like  the  rest  of  the  MS.,  of  the  latter  part  of  the  fourteenth  century 
and  in  the  south-western  dialect.  The  text  contains  several  of  the 
additional  passages  which  are  found  in  the  Corpus  MS. 

P.  A  fourteenth  century  version  of  the  Ancren  Riwle,  entitled 
<  The  Recluse,'  in  Pepys  MS.  2498  (Magd.  Coll.  Camb.),  to  which  atten- 
tion was  called  by  Miss  Paues  in  Englische  Studien,  xxx,  344 \  It 
occupies  pp.  371 — 449  of  a  folio  MS.  lettered  on  the  back  'Wicleef's 
Sermons.'  We  have  here,  however,  an  adaptation  or  paraphrase  rather 
than  a  copy  of  the  original  text,  and  some  of  the  characteristic  features 
are  lost  by  an  attempt  to  make  the  Rule  applicable  to  men  as  well 
as  women.  In  many  places  the  text  is  so  much  altered,  or  so  cor- 
rupt, as  to  be  almost  unrecognisable,  and  there  is  much  omission, 
especially  in  the  seventh  and  eighth  parts.  Also  many  passages,  some 
of  considerable  length,  are  added,  especially  one  on  the  visions  of  the 
Apocalypse,  pp.  446 — 48.  Some  of  the  additional  passages  of  the 
Corpus  MS.  are  contained  in  this  book  also.  The  dialect  is  Midland, 
but  with  some  South-western  characteristics. 

In  addition  to  these  there  is  a  fragment  of  another  fourteenth 
century  copy,  which  was  published  by  Professor  Napier  in  the  Journal 

1  This  text  has  recently  been  published,  ed.  J.  Pahlsson,  Lund  University,  1911.  I 
have  to  some  extent  used  this  edition.  For  access  to  the  manuscript  I  have  to  thank  Mr 
Gaselee,  the  Pepysian  Librarian. 

10—2 


148  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

of  Germanic  Philology,  vol.  II,  p.  199.     The  contents  of  this  correspond 
to  pp.  138,  25—142,  24  of  Morton's  edition. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  discuss  in  detail  the  questions  of  dialect 
which  are  involved ;  but  in  a  general  way  it  may  be  said  that  the  MSS. 
B,  C  and  G  constitute  a  group  resembling  one  another  closely  in  forms 
of  language,  and  belonging  to  that  particular  development  of  the 
Southern  dialect,  on  the  borders  of  the  Midland  region,  which  is 
exemplified  in  the  early  lives  of  St  Katharine  and  St  Juliana,  the 
purest  form  of  this  appearing  in  B,  which  is  also  distinctly  the  earliest 
in  time  of  our  manuscripts1.  The  Cleopatra  MS.  (C)  differs  from  B 
chiefly  in  the  substitution  of  '  ch '  for  '  h '  final  or  followed  by  a  con- 
sonant, as  '  ach,'  '  licht,'  '  echnen,'  and  of  '  5 '  for  '  h  '  between  vowels,  as 
in  '  majen,'  '  maregen.'  Occasionally  we  find  '  o  '  or  '  oa '  for  '  a,'  as 
'holdeS,'  p.  8,  1.  12  (of  Morton's  edition),  'oa,'  p.  154,  7,  '  }>oa,'  p.  188, 
15 ;  and  occasionally  also  '  w '  for  '  5 '  between  vowels  (esp.  after  '  u  '), 
e.g.  'buweS'  for  'bugeS,'  p.  266,  14,  'smuwel,'  p.  278,  302.  The  Caius 
copy  (G)  closely  resembles  B  in  language,  but  the  scribe  regularly 
writes  '  g '  for  '  5,'  and  usually  gives  us  such  forms  as  '  ]?at,'  '  after/ 
'  lechecraft '  (for  '  J?et,'  '  efter,'  .'  lechecreft ').  The  initial  '  v '  ('  u ')  for  '  f/ 
which  is  frequent  in  B,  hardly  occurs  in  this  text,  and  occasionally  we 
find  here  'richt'  for  'riht,'  p.  168,  1,  'ach'  for  'ah'  (e.g.  p.  3(H,  6), 
'more'  for  'mare,'  204,  11,  and  'salt'  for  '  schalt.' 

T  has  for  its  basis  a  text  of  the  same  kind,  but  was  evidently  written 
by  a  North  Midland  scribe,  who  while  retaining  to  a  great  extent  the 
phonological  basis,  has  pretty  systematically  altered  the  inflexional 
system,  and  has  also  introduced  a  sprinkling  of  more  Northern  words 
and  forms3.  Thus  the  ending  '  es '  or  '  is '  occurs  in  the  third  person 
singular  of  the  present  indicative  of  verbs  in  nearly  six-sevenths  of  the 
whole  number  of  examples,  and  the  ending  '-en,'  as  compared  with 
'  eS,'  for  the  plural  of  the  present  tense  occurs  in  a  much  larger  propor- 
tion still  (with  very  occasional  instances  of  '  es  ').  Again  in  the  plural 
of  substantives  '  es  '  is  usually  substituted  for  '  en.'  At  the  same  time 
Miihe  has  shown  that  in  certain  passages  the  case  is  reversed,  and  we 
have  a  large  predominance  of  the  Southern  inflexional  forms,  the 
suggestion  being  that  in  some  portions  of  his  work  the  scribe  tired  of 

1  The  language  of  B  will  be  sufficiently  illustrated  by  the  passages  from  this  manuscript 
which  1  propose  to  print  later. 

2  For  other  points  I  may  refer  to  Miss  Irene  Williams's  paper  in  Anglia,  xxvn,  p.  300. 

3  See  the  dissertation  by  Theodor  Miihe,  Gottingen,  1901,  Uber  den  im  MS.  Cotton, 
Titus  D.  xviii  e.nthaltenen  Text  der  ' Ancren  Riwle'\  a  very  painstaking  and  useful  piece 
of  work,  in  spite  of  defective  arrangement  and  quite  untenable  views  as  to  the  origin  of 
the  text. 


G.    C.    MACAULA.Y 


149 


his  task  and  copied  mechanically  what  he  had  before  him,  which  pre- 
sumably was  a  Southern  text  more  or  less  resembling  that  of  B  in  its 
language  forms.  In  a  very  few  instances,  five  altogether  according  to 
Mtihe,  '  o  '  or  '  oa '  appears  for  '  a.' 

The  characteristics  of  the  text  presented  by  N  are  well  known  from 
Morton's  edition.  It  is  distinguished  from  all  those  that  have  been 
mentioned  by  features  characteristic  in  this  period  of  the  purely  South- 
western dialect,  especially  by  the  systematic  use  of  '  o '  ('  oa ')  for  '  a,' 
the  regular  substitution  of  '  w  '  for  intervocalic  '  h '  or  '  5 '  after  a  back 
vowel  or  semivowel,  and  the  development  of  diphthongs  before  '  h ' 
final  or  before  a  consonant,  and  sometimes  before  'w/  as  in  'heih/ 
'seiht,'  '  auh/  '  ouh/  'brouhte,'  '  touweard.'  To.  some  extent  also*  the 
vocabulary  is  different,  French  words  being  substituted  in  some  cases 
for  English,  as  '  blamen  '  (p.  64)  for  '  lasten,'  '  kunfort '  (p.  236)  for  '  elne,' 
'  peintunge '  (p.  392)  for  '  litunge ' ;  or  English  words  and  phrases 
of  a  more  current  kind,  for  others  that  were  going  out  of  use,  as  '  stol ' 
for  '  scheomel,'  '  vort '  for  '  aSet,'  '  swuch  '  for  '  jmllich/  '  oueral '  for 
'  ihwer,'  '  ne  cweS  he  neuer  a  word '  for  '  cwich  ne  cweS  he  neauer. 
Corruptions  of  the  text  have  sometimes  found  their  way  in  from  misun- 
derstanding, as  p.  58,  9,  'falleS  to  hire'  for  'feaheS  hire/  138,  11,  'fret 
swuSe  well'  for  '  freotewil '  (adj.),  178,  26,  'one  wiSuten  sunne';  and 
there  are  also  a  good  many  wrong  connexions  of  clauses.  It  should 
be  observed  moreover  that  the  style  is  often  less  vigorous  or  more  diffuse. 
A  few  characteristic  examples  may  suffice.  Where  B  has  '  Jnirh  blod  is 
in  hali  writ  sunne  bitacnet'  (p.  112,  25),  we  read  in  N,  ')mruh  blod  is 
bitocned  sunne  ine  holi  writ,'  a  less  forcible  and  rhythmical  order  of 
the  words  ;  for  '  wa  we  moten  don  hit '  (p.  138,  19),  N  gives  us  '  We 
moten  )>auh  don  him  wo ' :  for  '  Betere  is  ga  sec  to  heouene  ]?en  hal 
to  helle'  (p.  190,  2)  we  have  'Betere  is  forte  gon  sic  tou ward  heouene 
)>en  al  hoi  tou  ward  helle  ' ;  and  for  '  an  ancre  windfeallet '  (p.  122,  13  f.), 
we  have  '  an  ancre  J?et  a  windes  puf  of  a  word  auelleS ' ;  for  '  tweame 
ham,  ba  falletS '  (p.  254,  5  f.)  we  have  '  to  deale  eiSer  urom  o$er,  7  boSe 
ualleS.'  As  regards  the  language,  the  text  of  N  represents  a  fuller  de- 
velopment 1 ;  but  we  must  not  understand  that  the  form  of  dialect  which 
we  have  here  was  necessarily  later  in  time  than  that  which  we  find  in  the 
other  manuscripts.  The  Corpus  manuscript  (B)  can  hardly  be  earlier 

1  It  must  be  noted,  however,  that  the  reviser  whose  text  is  represented  by  N  was  in  the 
matter  of  grammatical  inflexions  in  some  respects  'earlier'  than  B,  especially  in  regard  to 
pronouns,  articles  and  demonstratives.  Thus  we  have  the  accusative  form  'hine'  for 
'him,'  'on  one  wise'  (p.  6)  for  'on  a  wise,'  'swuchne  mon '  (p.  96)  for  '  swuch  mon,' 
'  J>esne  ston '  (p.  139)  for  '  \>es  simstan,'  '  wiuene '  (p.  158)  for  '  wiues,'  '  enne  floe '  (p.  202) 
for  'a  floe.' 


150  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

than  1230,  because  in  two  of  its  additional  passages  it  has  mention  of  the 
Franciscan  and  Dominican  friars  as  established  in  England.  The  Nero 
manuscript  seems  also  to  have  been  written  in  the  former  half  of  the 
century,  and  therefore  cannot  be  many  years  later  than  B,  and  is 
probably  earlier  than  C.  The  difference  is  chiefly  one  of  locality,  and 
in  a  certain  part  of  the  Southern  dialect-region  the  language  of  the 
'  Katherine-group '  seems  to  have  attained  for  the  time  almost  to  the 
position  of  a  literary' standard,  and  so  to  have  secured  a  relative 
permanence  of  form,  while  in  other  parts  of  the  same  region  change 
was  proceeding  more  rapidly. 

As  regards  the  mutual  relation  of  these  manuscripts  it  is  impossible 
perhaps  to  speak  very  decidedly.  In  a  very  large  number  of  instances  N 
stands  alone  in  its  readings  against  a  consensus  of  the  other  copies  :  but 
it  has  some  affinities  both  with  C1  and  (more  especially)  with  T2,  and  in 
particular  it  agrees  with  these  two  manuscripts  (as  well  as  with  G,  so  far 
as  the  testimony  of  that  text  is  available),  in  regard  to  the  omission  of 
a  considerable  number  of  passages  which  are  found  in  B  and  to  some 
extent  also  in  the  Vernon  and  Pepys  copies.  One  passage  indeed, 
p.  24,  16—29,  is  found  in  N  only,  and  another,  p.  192,  11—194,  12, 
belongs  in  its  entirety  to  N  alone,  but  while  omitted  altogether  o  j 
in  BVP,  it  is  partially  found  both  in  C  and  in  T.  ^  With  regard 
to  the  additional  passages  of  the  Corpus  manuscript  (so  they  may 
be  called  in  relation  to  the  current  text  of  the  Ancren  Riwle)  it  is 
necessary  to  enter  into  some  detail.  Taking  into  account  only  those  of 
some  importance,  both  longer  and  shorter,  we  have  the  following  general 
results.  Of  nineteen  such  passages  occurring  in  B,  eleven  seem  to  be 
peculiar  to  that  text,  seven  are  contained  in  the  Vernon  text  (with  some 
variations  and  omissions),  and  the  remaining  one  is  found  in  C,  but  only 
by  the  correction  of  a  somewhat  later  hand.  Of  the  passages  given  in 
the  Vernon  text,  four  appear  also  (in  more  or  less  altered  form)  in  the 
Pepys  MS.,  and  in  one  other  case  the  passage  has  been  added  by  a  later 
hand  in  the  margin  of  C.  That  is  to  say,  B  alone  of  the  English  copies,  so 
far  as  my  information  goes,  has  the  passages  occurring  at  or  after  the  follow- 
ing places  in  Morton's  text,  viz.  p.  42,  30 ;  64,  8  ;  68,  2  ;  206, 19;  254,  29  ; 
256,  7;  262,  4;  420,  1;  420,  16;  424,  2;  430,  10:  BC  have  the  longer 
form  of  the  passage  at  416, 12,  but  C  only  by  later  correction  ;  BV  alone 
the  passages  at  108,  173,  200,  23;  BVC  the  passage  at  420,  7  (but  V 

1  As  for  example  in  the  readings  of  p.  224,  16;  228,  1;  258,  7;  260,  16;  284,  21,  etc. 

2  As  192,  21  ff. ;   196,  15;  204,  21  ff.;  208,  22;  214,  4;  222,  8,  30;  268,  13,  etc. 

a  This,  however,  is  not  inserted  by  the  scribe  of  the  Vernon  MS.  in  its  proper  place,  but 
at  the  end  of  the  Ancren  Riwle. 


G.    C.    MACAULAY  151 

imperfectly  and  C  by  later  insertion) ;  and  BVP  the  passages  at  198,  9  ; 
198,  30;  200,  27;  202,  21.  It  must  be  added  that  the  French  text,  as  we 
have  it,  gives  the  passages  at  42,  30;  64,  8;  68,  2,  and  108, 17  (the  last  in 
a  different  place  from  that  assigned  to  it  in  B):  and  it  should  be  remem- 
bered that  the  text  of  the  French  is  defective  for  pp.  166,  11 — 208,11. 
The  Latin  version  contains  the  passages  at  198,  9;  198,  30;  200,  23;  ' 
202,  2 ;  of  which  three  are  given  by  BVP  and  the  remaining  one  by  BV.  P* 
That  some  at  least  of  the  additional  passages  are  interpolations,  and  were 
not  contained  in  the  original  text  of  the  Ancren  Riwle,  seems  practically 
certain;  and  in  particular  it  may  be  noted  that  the  additions  made  on 
pp.  200  and  202  are  to  some  extent  inconsistent  with  the  context  as  given 
in  B  as  well  as  in  other  manuscripts.  We  are  told,  for  example,  p.  20Q,  11, 
that  the  Serpent  of  Envy  has  a  brood  of  seven,  and  in  accordance  with 
this  seven  are  enumerated ;  but  in  B V  (as  well  as  in  the  Latin  version) 
the  enumeration  is  extended  to  an  eighth,  ninth  and  tenth':  again, 
p.  200,  26  we  are  told  in  all  the  texts  that  the  Unicorn  of  Wrath  has 
six  whelps;  but  in  BVP,  after  the  six  have  been  duly  mentioned,  a 
seventh  is  added.  Considering  this,  and  also  the  unanimity  with  which 
the  whole  number  of  passages  is  rejected  by  the  other  thirteenth 
century  manuscripts,  so  far  as  their  original  texts  are  concerned,  I  am 
disposed  to  think  that  they  may  be  regarded  as  interpolations  gener- 
ally, and  that  we  must  assume  that  CTNG,  though  much  inferior 
in  general  correctness  of  text  to  B,  yet  represent  a  more  original 
form  in  this  respect.  The  English  Ancren  Riwle,  then,  is  to  be 
thrown  back  to  an  earlier  date  than  that  of  the  earliest  existing 
manuscripts,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  can  hardly  be  dated  earlier  than 
1230.  We  must  recognise  the  existence  of  two  distinct  groups  of 
manuscripts,  those  that  have  been  interpolated  to  a  greater  or  less 
degree  in  the  manner  which  I  have  indicated,  viz.  BVP,  and  the 
remainder,  which  better  preserve  the  general  form  of  the  original  text, 
though  less  correct  and  less  near  to  the  original  in  other  respects 
than  B2.  It  follows  that  the  French  text,  as  we  have  it  now,  is  also 
to  some  extent  interpolated,  containing  as  it  .does  three  of  the  passages 
which  are  in  the  English  text  peculiar  to  B3,  and  one  which  is  found  in 
BV  only.  The  question  therefore  arises  of  the  mutual  influence  of  the 

1  V  is  defective  from  p.   360,  23  to  420,  7,  and  after  this  point  has  only  a  few  lines 
corresponding  to  the  remainder  of  Morton's  text  (420,  7—9  and  422,  1—10),  and  P  gives 
very  little  of  the  concluding  part,  pp.  420—430. 

2  N,  however,  as  we  have  seen,  has  one  passage  peculiar  to  itself,  and  another  which  is 
partly  shared  by  CT,  but  omitted  by  the  rest. 

3  Among  these  is  one  of  the  passages  which  mention  the  Friars :  '  Noz  freres  prechours 
et  noz  freres  menours  sunt  de  tiele  ordre'  etc.  (f.  68). 


152  The  '  Ancren  Riwle' 

French  and  English  texts,  after  the  translation  into  English  had  been 
made.  Either  some  passages  may  have  been  added  to  the  French 
text,  and  thence  by  the  scribe  of  B  transferred  to  the  English,  together 
with  other  contributions  of  his  own  :  or  possibly  a  copyist  of  the  French 
text  may  have  been  acquainted  with  B,  or  some  similar  manuscript,  and 
have  endeavoured  to  amplify  his  copy  by  translation  of  the  longer 
English  additions :  and  in  this  case  we  may  suppose  that  after  a  certain 
time  he  ceased  to  consult  the  English  manuscript  for  this  purpose,  and 
so  the  fact  might  be  accounted  for  that  the  first  four  of  the  additional 
passages  appear  in  our  French  text,  but  after  these  no  more. 

In  the  following  textual  notes  I  have  selected  such  variations  of  B 
from  Morton's  edition  as  seem  to  be  of  most  interest  with  a  view  to  the 
restoration  of  a  sound  text  or  the  elucidation  of  the  meaning.  I  have 
taken  no  account  for  the  most  part  of  variants  in  regard  to  the  Latin 
quotations,  and  the  longer  additional  passages  have  been  reserved  for 
printing  separately.  It  will  be  understood  that  all  the  thirteenth 
century  MSS.  cited  have  '  p '  for  '  w,'  and  in  accordance  with  the 
usual  practice  I  have  substituted  'w.'  The  Caius  MS.  (G),  however, 
makes  no  consistent  difference  between  '  p '  and  ' )?,'  and  I  have  as- 
sumed the  letter  which  seems  to  be  intended  in  each  case.  Simi- 
larly in  the  same  MS.  '  d '  is  frequently  written  for  '  $ '  (sometimes 
also  '  S '  for  '  d ')  and  I  have  not  thought  it  worth  while  always 
to  take  note  of  this  feature,  when  it  evidently  arises  from  care- 
lessness. Except  in  the  cases  of  '  7 '  for  '  and,'  and  '  -p '  for  '  J?et '  or 
1  )?at,'  I  have  expanded  abbreviations  and  contractions,  and  it  does  not 
seem  to  be  worth  while  to  indicate  them  specially.  There  are  very  few 
in  B,  and  those  in  the  other  MSS.  offer  no  difficulty.  In  every  passage 
referred  to  I  have  given  the  readings  of  all  the  thirteenth  century 
copies  except  N,  but  the  fourteenth  century  MSS.  are  referred  to  only 
occasionally,  except  where  it  is  a  question  of  an  additional  passage.  In 
the  place  where  B  is  defective,  56,  24 — 64,  8,  the  primary  collation  is 
with  C.  Sometimes  the  text  of  the  French  is  cited  in  parentheses,  as 
'  Fr.'  The  reading  of  N  is  given  with  the  rest  in  cases  where  Morton 
has  not  correctly  followed  the  manuscript.  In  some  of  these  instances 
I  follow  Kolbing's  collation1,  as  58,  5 ;  72,  3 ;  98,  4 :  but  in  several  places 
his  report  needs  to  be  supplemented  or  corrected,  as  24,  10 ;  56,  10 ; 
62,  24 ;  78,  28 ;  148, 1 ;  238,  11 ;  176,  11.  A  multitude  of  slight  varia- 
tions are  passed  over  without  notice,  but  a  few  differences  of  pretty  regular 
occurrence  may  be  mentioned  here.  Morton's  manuscript  has  '  vort ' 

1  Jahrbuch  fttr  rom.  und  engl.  Sprache  und  Literatur,  xv,  pp.  180  ff. 


G.    C.    MACAULAV  153 

('  until ')  regularly  for  '  aSet/  '  swulche  '  for  '  jmllich  '  or  '  Jmlli,'  '  wiSute,' 
'  wiSinne  '  usually  for  '  utewiS,'  '  inwis,'  '  oueral '  for  '  ihwer/  '  )?er  abuten  ' 
for  '  ]?er  onuuen/  '  scheomeful'  for  'scheome'  (adj.),  '  jemeleaste '  for 
'  jeameles '  (subst.),  '  menke  '  for  '  menske/  '  ]?erefter,'  ( )?eruppe '  for 
'  J?refter,'  '  )?ruppe,'  '  mid  '  for  '  wiS,'  '  hure  7  hure  '  for  '  lanhure,'  etc.  In 
most  of  these  cases  CGT  are  in  agreement  with  B. 

In  passages  where  two  or  more  manuscripts  give  the  same  reading 
with  slight  variation  of  form  or  spelling,  I  often  cite  them  together 
adding  a  note  of  the  variation  in  parentheses  after  the  letter  which 
indicates  the  manuscript.  Thus  '  Jmrh  jemeles  gluffeS  BC  (]?urch) ' 
means  that  C  agrees  with  B  except  in  giving  '  Jrnrch  '  for  '  j?urh.'  With 
regard  to  the  punctuation,  it  is  that  of  the  manuscripts ;  but  I  Jiave 
regularly  substituted  an  ordinary  comma  for  the  K  which  is  used  as  the 
equivalent  of  a  comma. 

The  references  are  to  pages  and  lines  of  the  Camden  Society  Text,  ed.  Morton. 

2,  7  \>e  rihte  luuie$  ]?e  •  J>eo  beo$  rihte  \>e  limie$  efter  riwle1  B  \>eo  richte  luuieft 
]>e  •  J>eo  beoft  richte  •  J?e  liuieS  efter  riwle  C  J>eo  ]>e  riht  IvuieS  ]?e  •  t  beoft  riht  J?eo  • 
]>et  libbe^  efter  riwle  N  11  7  make^  BC  knotte]  cnost2  B  cnoste  C  knoost  P 
12  J>e  segge  B  $  segge  C  20  antomasice  BV  antonomatice  N  acthonomasice 
P  (C  omits  1.  14 — p.  4,  1.  5).  Read  antonomasice3. 

4,  8  liggen]  singen  BC  syngen  V  wakien  BCN  17  f>e  licome]  ha  B  heo  CV 
24  woe]  woh  B  woh  •  scraggi4  7  unefne  C  (by  correction  from  J>ong)  woii}  V. 

6,  2  ha  is  eauer  7  an  wrS  ute  changunge  •  B  heo  is  eauer  an  •  wrS  vten 
changinge  C  6  locunges  efter  \>e  uttre  riwle  B  locunges  Efter  J>eo  uttere 

riwle  C  7  nis  om.  B  (C  has  istalt  substituted  for  nis  heo  italt)  8  here] 

hearde  B  harde  C  14  eSelich  B  feble  C  atelich  V  (leide  Fr.)  luuelich  BN 
louelich  V  strong  C  (amiable  Fr.)  *16  don  om.  BC  24  of  his  herre  BC. 

8,  11  ich  riwle]  ich  write  BC  12  haldeS  alle  B  holde$  alle  C  25  icleopet  B 
icleoped  C. 

10,  8  i  J?e  world  sumrne  •  Nomeliche  B    summe  In  \>e  world  Nomeliche  C. 

12,  4 f .  per  as  monie  beo$  igederet  to  gederes,  J>er  for  anrednesse  BC  (}?ear... 
igedered)  8  wiiS  hare  habit  BC  (abit)  9  ofterhwet  •  ha  seiseft  ^  B 

o$er  hwet  •  ha  seie$  t  C  17  godd  B  god  C  22  trichung  B  trichi  C  (by 

alteration  perhaps  from  truchung)  werieiS  BC  23  ase  tole  B  tol  C  (glossed  lome) 
24  ase  a  schelchine]  as  Jmften  B  an  Jmt'ten  C  After  25  rubric  heading,  an  Boc  is 
todealet  in  eahte  leasse  Bokes  B  om.  C. 

14,  After  25  rubric  heading  Her  biginneS  \>e  earste  boc  of  vres  7  vreisuns  \>e  gode 
beo$  to  seggen  B  om.  C. 

16,  1  up  aheuene  ehnen  B  up  heuene  echnen  C  (heuene  crossed  out  later} 
8  euch  time  t  se  maheu  sitten  se  oiSer  stonden  B  hwenne  se  masen  sitte  &e  o'Ser 
stonden  C  (sitte  se  by  correction  from  sitten)  12  gretunges  BC  27  add  ine 

1  So  also  V,  '  Jmlke  be)?  rihte,  ]?at  louej?  after  rule,'  but  P,  '  Hii  ben  ri3th  J?at  lyuen  after 
ri3th  reule. ' 

2  '  Cnost '  is  doubtless  the  true  reading,  though  the  word  seems  not  to  have  been  hitherto 
recorded.     It  must  be  from  the  stem  of  O.E.  'cnossian,'  and  means  here  '  bruise'  (as  the 
result  of  a  blow).     The  phrase  is  '  without  bruise  or  scar.'     C  has  a  marginal  note  added 
to  1.  14,  in  which  the  expression  '  cnosti  7  dolki '  (adj. )  occurs. 

3  That  is,  '  per  antonomasiam.' 

4  A  very  early  use  of  this  word,  meaning  '  rough.' 


154  The  'Ancren  Riivle' 

munegunge  of  godes  fif  wunden  B  In  be  munegunge  of  \>e  vif  wunden  of  gode  C  (of 
gode  crossed  out). 

18,14  icruchet  B  icrucket  Q  (altered  from  icruccet)  15  onlicnesses]  ymagnes 
B  imaiges  C  (altered  from  imaines)  17  ei]  sef  ei  B  sef  ani  C  21  duneward 
seggeft  B  duneward  7  segeS  C. 

20, 14  f.  ed  te  messe  i  be  muchele  Credo  •  ed  ex  Maria. .  .factus  est  B  ed  be  masse  • 
In  be  muchele  crede  ex  maria... factus  est  C  24  7  hwen  se  slepe$  •  efter  slep 
BC  (wenne)  25  ff.  bute  hwen  se  feasted  •  I  winter  biuore  rnete  hwen  se  al  ueaste$  • 
be  sunnedei  bah  efter  mete  for  se  eoteS  twien 1  B  bute  hwenne  se  festeft  •  I  winter 
bifore  mete  hwenne  se  alfesteft  •  }>e  sunnendei  efter  mel  •  for  se  eoteS  twien  C. 

22,  1  arisen]  rungen  BO  6  eft  from  ower  complie  abet  efter  pretiosa  B 
From  ouwer  conpelin  oftet  preciosa  C  17  suffragi.es  BC  19  After  muchele 
betere  add  In  a  mel  dei  we  seggeft  ba  •  placebo  7  dirige  efter  be  mete  graces  I  twi 
mel  dei  efter  non  •  7  se  alswa  mote  don  B  om.  C  22  unnen  BC. 

24,10  serue]  erue  BCN  12  7  ure  B  antvreC  16—29  Vre  leawede— reade 
om.  BC. 

26,  1  f.  as  se  beo$  breo  an  godd  alswa  se  beoft  an  mihte  BC  (ase...aswa...michte) 
3  f.  to  J>e  wisdom  seli  sune  •  to  be  luue  hali  gast  •  BC  4  f.  sef  me  an  almihti 
godd  brile  i  breo  hades  •  bes  ilke  breo  Binges  B  sef  me  bu  an  almihti  god  brile  In 
breo  hades  beos  ilke  breo  Binges  C  (altered  from  sef  me  aa  mihti  god  etc.). 

28,  7   hare  brokes  B    heore  strundeu  C    heore  brokes  V. 

30,  19   weoredes  BC. 

34,  11  f.  haldeft  him  heteueste  abet  he  habbe  isettet  ow  al  ^  se  eauer  easkift  B 
haldeS  him  hetefeste  o«et  he  habbe  isettet  on  al  t  se  wulleS  C  15  his  derue 
pine  B  his  deorewurSe  pine  C  his  harde  pyne  V. 

36,  20  ff.  According  to  BC  the  five  prayers  are  '  Deus  qui  sanctam,'  '  Adesto,' 
'  Deus  qui  pro  nobis,'  'Deus  qui  unigeniti,'  '  luste  iudex,'  with  4O  beata.' 

38,  21    efter  his  derue  dea«  B    efter  his  derfe  dea«  C. 

40,  5  f.  forte  abrusmin  i  bruh  •  se  wurSliche  7  se  mihtiliche  on  hali  bursdei 
stihe  B  for  to  prisunen  I  bruch,  swa  wurSliche  7  michteliche  on  hali  buresdei 
stisin  C  12  f.  al  be  eorSe  B  alle  be  obere  C  (altered  from  alle  beode). 

42,  15  sitte$  BC  19  mei  stutten  BC  25  f.  of  J>isse  worde — psalmes 

om.  BC  26  f.  ant  al  ]?is  ilke  ureisun  efter  hire  fif  heste  blisses  •  eorneft  bi  fine  • 
tele  i  ]>e  antefnes  BC  (blissen  eorne$. .  .in  )>e  antempnes)  28  buten  ane  imearket  B 
imarked  bute  an  C  After  30  (last  line)  twenty-four  lines  added  B2  om.  CVP. 

44,  6   ow  eche  B    echi  ow  C  (altered  from  echeiS)     ow  eches  T. 

46,  26  Jmrh  semeles3  gluffeS  BC  (Jmrch)     ]mrh  semles  gliffen  T. 

48,  2  f.  Hwet  se  beo  nu  ]>erof,  |>eose  riwlen  herefter  ich  walde  ha  weren  BC 
(J>eos  riulen)4  After  4  rubric  Her  Biginneft  be  ober  dale  of  be  heorte  warde  burh  be 
fif  wittes  B  om.  CT  7  iloket  B  iloked  CT  8  spekunge]  smechunge  BC 
smecchinge  T  11  moni  liht  lupe  BTC  (licht)  (meint  legier  assaut  Fr.) 

14  seide]  rneande  B  meanede  C  meanede  him  T. 

50,  15  teke  be  bitacnunge5  B  tekebe  bitacninge  T  techen  be  bitacnunge  C 
18  istekene]  itachet  BCT  25  dotie6  B  adotie  T  adotien  C  (by  correction) 

doten  V. 

52,  8  be  wise  folhe  i  wisdom,  7  nawt  i  folie  BC  (folese...naut)  £e  wise  folhe 
iwisedom  7  nawt  ifolie  T  15  aide  moderB  aldemoderCT  16  neowe]  sunne 
BCT  synne  V  20  turnde]  toe  BCTV  23  com  be  dede  BV  com  to  dede  C 
com  )>e  deaft  T. 

1  The  meaning  of  this  is,  '  Nones  in  summer  after  meat,  or  if  you  sleep  (in  the 
afternoon)  after  sleep,  except  when  you  are  fasting.     In  winter  before  meat,  even  when 
you  are  fasting ;  but  on  Sunday  after  meat,  because  you  have  two  meals. ' 

2  The  length  of  added  passages  is  indicated  by  lines  in  B. 
}  '  semeles '  (subst.)  is  the  regular  form  in  these  MSS. 

4  T  has  a  different  sentence:    'pis  ruile  herafter  muche  nede  is  wel  to  loke  $  godd  giue 
ow  grace  •  for  hit  spekes  of  be  fiue  wardains  of  be  heorte,'  omitting  'Ich  wolde— iholden.' 

5  This  is  obviously  the  true  reading :  ' in  addition  to  the  meaning.' 

6  '  dotie  7...wede,'  '  play  the  fool  and  go  mad.' 


G.    C.    MACAULAY  155 

54,  4  hwat]  as  BCT  10  louerd]  were  BCT  13  Habbe  BC  Haue  T 

18  also  het  was]  as  dyna  het  B  alswa  Dina  het  T  huchte  dina  C. 

56,  1  ah  dude  of  j»  BT  (dide)  ach  of  j>  C  5  ahelich  B  aselich  C  hehlich  T 
7  wlite  BCT  10  Me  surquide  sire  B  Mesurquidesire  T  Me  sire  C  Me 

surquiderie  N  14  was  }ms  Jmrh  on  eie  wurp]  }>es  Jmrh  an  ehe  wurp  B  ]>es  J>urch 
an  eche  wurp  C  pus  J?urh  an  ehewarp  T  (Cestui  par  un  iet  del  oil  Fr.). 

56,  24  ff.    After  weopmen,  auh  B  is  defective  to  sihfte  one,  64,  8. 

58,  5  helden]  selden  CN  selde  T  9  f.  al  J>et  J>e  feaseS  hire  C  (set  altered  to 

j?et)  Al  set  ^  feahes  ow  T1  10  ful  lime]  fol  luue  C  (altered  from  fol  lokig)  ful 
lime  T  17  ha  is  witi  C  se  arn  schuldi  T  21  )m  t  vnwrisd  C  Jm  t  unhules  T 
26  fullen  C  fillen  T  J?e  fondunge  ]?e  J?urch  J?e  7  et  J>e  awacnede  C  (altered  from... 
hwer  jmrch  J?e  dede...)  }>e  fondinge  ^  of  J?e  )?urh  }>i  dede  wacnede  T. 

60,  2  7  bote  )m  schriue  }?e  )?rof,  Jm  schalt  acorien  hire  sunne  T  7  buten  }m  beo 
iscriue  J>erof  acorien  his  sunne  C  10  in  a  cuple  C  (from  in  ane)  inaweie  T 

18  lafdies    chastete   T,    lauedi    chastete    C    (altered    apparently    from    lauedies) 

23  And  hit  is  softes  weilawai  neh  idon  T     7  hit  is  weilawei  nech  ido  C  (hit  % 
correction). 

62,  1  wite  hire  ehne  T  wite  hire  echnen  C  t  euer  is]  }>erefter  C  J?r£fter  T 
7 — 11  Ne  aboutie — grunde  om.  C  7  ne  tote  ha  nawt  T  10  iblind  earst  T 
16  for  hwon  j?  heo  machten  C  ($  added  later)  forhwi  -p  ha  muhten  T  17  f.  tunen 
hire  eityurl  asein  \>e  dea$  of  saule  C  tuinen  hire  eityurl  to  sain  deaft  of  sawle  T 

24  f.    mis]?enche  •  Hu  dele  ^encheft  me  C     mjs]?enke  •   Hu  deale  •  hwat  seis  he  ? 
Benches  mon  T    mis  J?enche  •  v  •  deale  hwat  seift  he  •  Jjencbeft  me  N. 

64  Before  pis  is  nu,  1.  8,  a  passage  of  which  the  beginning  is  lost,  but  about 
thirty-nine  lines  remain*  B  om.  CTVP  18  f.  mid  godes  dred  •  To  preost  on  earst 
Confiteor  •  7  ]?refter  Benedicite  •  B  wi8  godes  dred  •  To  preost  on  earst  Confiteor  • 
}?refter  Benedicite  •  T  mid  godes  dred  to  ]>reeost  an  earst  confiteor  •  7  }?er  efter 
benedicite  •  C  (od  doute  de  dieu  al  prestre  •  Al  comenchment  dites  Confiteor  etc.  Fr.) 

19  £  he  ah  to  seggen  •  hercnift  hise  wordes3  BT  (Hercnes)    hercnrS  hise  wordes  C 

22  blamen]  lastin  BC    laste  T          23  )>e  sit  7  speke$  toward  hire  BC  (towart)    j> 
sittes  7  spekes  toward  him  T          24  forwurSeft  BC      bicumes  T. 

66,  4  talde  him  al  \>Q  lesceun  BC  (lecun)  T  (lescun)  5  ilered]  ired  BCT 
10 — 20  (Vor}?i  ancre— beon  of  hit)  om.  C  13  kimeS  }>e  kaue  B  dimes  te 
seape  T  come)?  J>e  knaue  V  come]?  J>e  kerne  P  (vient  la  chaue  Fr.)  al  t  of  hwat 
heo]  of  t  BT  14  J>e  caue  deouel  B  J>e  luflere  deuel  T  )>e  knaue  deuel  V  [>e 
deuel  P  (la  chawe  denfer  le  diable  Fr.)  20  of  hit]  o  lut  B  of  lut  N  (T  omits 

this  clause)  23  inwardluker  BC  inwardeluker  T  27  wedde  BT  madde  C. 

68  After  1.  2  an  additional  passage  of  seventeen  lines  B  om.  CTV  6  stude  BN 
stunde  T  (bute  sef  se  him  nabben  C)  8  After  bilohen  add  as  iosep  i  Genesis  of 
J>e  gale  leafdi  B  om.  CT  14  binime]  reaui  B  reauin  C  reaue  T  17  ff.  t  se 
seo$  ]>er  ]mrh  •  7  neomeiS  oSerhwhile  to  ower  wummen  }>e  buses  )mrl  •  to  oj>re,  J>e 
parlur  •  Speoken  ne  ahe  se  B  ^  se  seon  J?er  ]?urh  7  nimen  ofter  hwile  •  To  owre 
seruanz  |?e  huse  windohe  •  To  of  re,  }?e  parlurs  •  Speke  ne  ahe  se4  T  \>e  se  name's 
)>er  J>urch  to  ouwer  wimon  )?e  bus  furl,  J>e  parlures  to  }>e  of»re  C  (omitting  the  rest) 

23  meidnes  B    meiden  C    seruaunt  T  hire  feire  B    him  feire  T    hire  C5. 

70,  1  openen]  unsperren  B  ondsweren  ed  C  opnin  T  17  ne  ower  eare  ne 
drinke  BC  (ouwer)  Niowre  eares,  ne  drinke  T  18  ower  ehJmrhsperre'S  to  B 
spared  ouwer  ech  Jmrles  C  owre  ebejmrl  sperres  to  T  25  he  beo  J>e  BCN  (T  om. 
70,  21  ne  ne  preche— 72,  7). 

1  Eead  'al  set  be  feaheft  hire,'  'moreover  all  that  adorns  her.'     The  reading  of  N  is 
palpably  wrong. 

2  The  purport  of  what  is  lost  may  be  recovered  from  the  French. 

3  The  passage  is  thus  paraphrased  in  the  Pepys  MS.  (after  'godes  dred  ') :  '  And  3if  hii 
schullen  speken  to  preest  hii  owen  to  saien  her  •  Confiteor  •  and  after  Benedicite  dominus  • 
And  t>an  here)?  woordes  J?at  be)?  nedeful  to  heren.'     This  gives  the  sense  more  clearly. 

4  T  gives  what  is  doubtless  the  correct  punctuation :  '  7  nimen  oj?er  hwile '  refers  of 
course  to  the  sacrament.     This  is  supported  also  by  the  French. 

5  C  continues  thus,  '  7  heo  schal  habbe  leaue  to  gladien  hire  fere  7  for  to  ondsweren ' 
etc. 


156  The  'Ancren  Riwle1 

72,1  witene  as  hali  chirche  larewes  B  lokinC  3  reaui  BC  reauie  N  3f.  }>e 
de$  al  to  wundre  B  •£  deft  alto  wunder  C  13  }>a  ha  hefden  B  J>a  ha  haueden  T 
J>a  heo  C  (om.  hefden)  16  wordes  fostrilt  7  bringeft  for$  chaffle  •  On  otter  half 
as  he  seiS  B  wordes  fostermoder  7  bringeS  for5  chefle  •  On  otter  half  as  heseifl  C 
(fostermoder  by  alteration  probably  from  fostrild)  wordes  fostrild  £  bringes  for5 
chauele  •  On  otter  half  as  he  seis  T  23  hehin  B  hechen  C  hehen  T  24  low- 
si-S  B  letes  T  (C  om.  ase  de$  muchel— adun  sone). 

74,  9  ane  brethren  B    ane  bre$re  CT         24  slubbri  B    slibbri  C    slibri  T. 

76,  6  he  speke«  BC  we  speken  T  14  pleieS  B  pleideS  C  moten  T  16  heou- 
e$  toward  me  hehe  ower  honden  B  heoueft  toward  me  up  ower  honden  C  heiien 
toward  me  hehe  owre  honde  T. 

78,  3  bone]  bisocne  BCT  28  spetteS  ut]  sweteS  ut  BN  (vt)  sweteS  C 
swetes  T. 

82,  9  otter  hwiles  •  peose  beotS  alle  ischrapede  ut  of  ancre  riwle  •  pe  swuch  BC 
(riule  •  t  swich)  otter  hwiles  •  peos  arri  alle  ischraped  vt  of  ancres  riwle  j>  swuch  T 
1 1  wordes]  sneateres  BT  sneates  C  24  speketS  ham  B  ham  speketS  C  spekes 
homT. 

84,  4  f.  sef  he  walde  pile  win  7  toteoren  B  set  walde  he  pilewin  7  to  teoren  C 
Jet  walde  he  picken  7  to  teren  T  8  sunne]  wunder  BCT  25  to-her]  low  her  B 
lo  here  C  lo  her  T. 

88,  1  culche$  BC  culches  T  8  healp  B  halp  CT  14  ueole]  i  feole  B 
ifeole  C  imoni  T  14  f.  ah  onont  J?is  J>ing  wa  is  me  }>eruore  ne  mei  ham  namon 

werien  BT  (Ah...tis  J?ing  -...J>er  fore  •  ne  mai)  Ach  anonden  )>is  }>ing  wa  is  me  )>er 
fore  ne  mei  nan  mon  hit  werien  C  (neust  tvritten  above  anonden  and  for  added  before 
ne  mei)  25  rikelot  BT  kikelot  (glossed  piot)  C  (rigelot  Fr.). 

90,  13  he  sei«  bi  him  seolf  BC  he  seis  bi  him  self  T  15  After  gelusie  add 
Jmhte  him  nawt  inoh  iseid  •  f  he  is  gelus  of  J>e,  bute  he  seide  J>erto,  wr$  muche 
gelusie  BT  (puhte...seif>... gelus  •  Bute)  Ne  jmchte  naut  inoch  iseid  ty  he  is  gelus  of 
|>e  bute  he  seide  J>er  to  •  witS  muche  gelusie  C. 

92,  2  Jniig]  |?rung  BC  J>ring  T  euch  nurtS  eortSlich  B  uch  eorSlich  nurS  C  euch 
murhtte  eorSlich  T  3  ]?er  noise  ne  cumetS]  NurS  ne  kimeft  B  Nur8  ne  hire 
kime$  C  Noise  ne  cumes  T  7  leome  BCT  24  agrupie  asean  ham] 

uggi  wrS  ham  BT  grise  wi^  ham  C  25  uor  to  ontenden]  \>e  ontenden  B  |>e 
onteride  C  to  ontende  T  27  f.  al  }>e  englene  weoret  •  al  \>e  halhene  bird  B  alle 
J>e  englene  rute  7  alle  \>e  halesene  hirde  C  al  J>e  engl'ene  ferd  •  Alle  halehenes  bird  T. 

94,  23  f.  Ah  ancres  bisperret  her,  schulen  beo  J>er  BT  (bisperred...schule)  Ach 
ancres  j>  bi  sparred  her  •  schule  beo  |>er  C  24  lihture  beon]  lihtre  ba  B  lichtre 
ba  C  lihtere  ba^e  T  24  ff.  7  i  se  wide  schakeles  •  as  me  ser§  pleien  in  heouene 
large  lesewen  B  7  in  swa  wide  schakeles  as  me  seifl  pleisen  in  heouenes  large 
lesewe  C  7  ij?e  wide  schaccles  as  mon  seis  pleien  in  heuene  large  leswes  T. 

96,  4  derue  domes  BC  dearne  domes  T  12  luue  BCT  20  After  touward 
te  add  7  swereS  deope  aj>es  B  om.  CT  20  f.  ah  )>ah  ich  hefde  isworen  hit  luuien 
ich  mot  te  •  Hwa  is  wurse  )jen  me  ?  Moni  slep  hit  binime^S  me  •  nu  me  is  wa  B  Ach 
)>ach  ich  hefde  isworen  luuien  ich  mot  J?e  •  hwa  is  wurse  J?ene  \>e  $  on  slep  hit  bi 
nime'S  me  •  Nu  me  is  wa  C  Ah  J>ah  ich  hafde  sworn  hit  •  luuen  imot  te  •  Hwa  is 
wurse  }>en  me  •  Moni  slep  hit  reaues  me  •  nu  me  is  wa  T  24  eauer  is  j?e  ehe  to 
J>e  wude  lehe  •  eauer  is  J>e  heorte  B1  eauer  is  J>e  echse  to  }>e  wodelese  7  J>e  halte  bucke 
climbed  J?er  uppe  •  twa  7  }?reo  hu  feole  beo^  J>eo  •  }>reo  halpenes  makel5  apeni  •  amen  • 
7  eauer  is  }>e  heorte  C  eauer  is  tat  ehe  to  J>e  wide  lehe  •  Eauer  is  te  heorte  T. 

98,  4  feondschipe  BN  feonschipe  T  freonchipe  C  9  ff'.  wendeS  ow  from- 

ruard  him  alswa  as  ich  seide,  )>ruppe  •  Sawuin  ow  scolnen  •  ne  matin  him  betere,  ne 
mahe  se  o  nane  wise  B  wendet  anan  from  ward  him  swa  as  iseide  •  sauuen  iow 
seoluen  7  maten  him,  betere  ne  muse  se  on  nane  wise  C  wendes  ow  f  ram  ward  him 
alswa  as  iseide  •  Sauuen  ow  seluen  ni  maten  him  betere,  ne  muhe  se  o  nane  wise  T 
23  misdon]  ido  BG  idon  T  (C  om.  Seie— misdon  |>e)  24  ff.  hwite]  wlite  BCTG. 

1  The  proverb  is  given  in  a  fuller  form  in  the  N  text.  The  addition  in  C  '  7  \>e  halte 
bucke  climbed  ber  uppe'  may  indicate  as  the  origin  of  the  saying  the  idea  of  an  enclosed 
wood  in  which  the  does  are  kept  apart  from  the  bucks.  What  follows  in  this  MS.  seems 
to  be  merely  nonsense  suggested  to  the  scribe  by  the  quotation  of  a  proverbial  saying. 


G.    C.    MACAULAY 


157 


100,  1    turn  ham  ba  B   turne  ba  C    turn  ba  G    tuin  bafte  T         15  f.    to  hercwile 

7  to   speokele   ancres  BC  (om.  to... to)     to    hercninde  7  to   spekele   ancres  T     te 
hercwille  ancres  G         20   telest  her  to  Intel  BT  (tellest)   tellest  herto  Intel  G    tellest 
}>er  of  lutell  C         21    mine... mine]  }>is...J>is  BG    }>isse...]?is  C    his. ..his  T         27   ut 
totunge  BC    ut  totinge  TG         30   a  ful  bucke  BCTG. 

102,  4  claurede]  cahte  B  clahte  T  clachte  CG  5  cauhte]  lahte  BT  lachte  C 
(hire,  7  cauhte  mid  his  cleafres  om.  G)  8  After  sunne  add  7  bireafde  hire  ed  an 
cleap  }>e  eorfte  7  ec  }>e  heouene  BC  (et...om.  ec)  G  (birefde...at  an  clap)  T  (Beafde... 
at  a  clap...heuene)  10  to  himmere  heile  •  hire  to  wrafter  heale  B  to  himmere 
heale  C  to  wrafter  heale  T  welere  to  uwelleer  hele  G  1 7  ff.  After  wummen  (second 
time)  se  nu  her,  do  j?er  to  j?  schalt  7  tu  wel  wulle  elles  hwer  beo  feier,  nawt  ane 
bimong  wummen,  ah  bimong  engles  B  se  nu  her  do  J>er  to  •  ^  schalt  7  J>u  wel  wule 
elles  hwer  beo  f  eiser  •  naut  ane  bi  mong  wimmen  •  ach  bi  mong  engles  C  ah  bimong 
engles  T  (om.  seift  ure — wummen  and  \>u  meiht — engles)  ge  do  nu  herto  }?erto  •  J>at 
salt  gif  }ni  wel  wult  elles  hwer  beon  feir  nawt  ane  bi  mong  wummen  •  ah  bi  mong 
engles  G  22  pu]  J>e  BG  t  CT  24  Cusse  me  BGT  cus  me  C  24  f.  mid 
cosse  of  }>ine]  wift  fte  coss  of  his  B  wift  cos  of  his  TG  wift  }>i  C. 

104,  5  inwift  wah  ofter  wal  BTGC  (wach)  11  J>e  heorte]  J>e  ham  B  J>at  feam  G 
\>e  hus  T  heo  C  12  habbe  BCTG  14  ah  is  smechunge  B  ah  smecchinge  T 
ase  smechunge  C  20  me  ne  recche  BT  i  ne  reche  C  24  After  huse  add  7 
muhlinde  J?iriges  B  7  mulede  Binges  T  7  of  uuele  Binges  C. 

106,8  truiles...betruileftB  truseles...bitruleft  C  trufles...bitruflesT  29  ancre 
BC  anker  T. 

108,  17  After  this  about  sixty  lines  added  in  B  om.  CTV  (but  added  in  V  at  the 
end,  f.  392)  27  wittes  om.  (both  times)  BCT. 

110,  14   te  oj?re  B    J>oSre  C    te  oftre  T         26   com]  lihte  BT    lichte  C. 

112,  5  he  hefde  in]  hefde  his  BC   hafde  his  T       6  derue  BT   derfe  C        hit  BCT 

8  reopunge  j?rof  7  te  hurt  BT  (repinge)     hurtunge  |?rof  C          10    Auch  euerich] 
Euch  BT    Vch  C         19    7  ofte  berebarde  om.  BT  (C  om.  }>et  was— berebarde) 

114,  19  ase  he  is]  as  his  BCT. 

116,  9   enne  elpij  anlepi  BTC. 

118,  3  agein  woh  of  word  t  me  seift  ow  B  asain  woh  of  word  t  mon  seis  ow  T 
asein  word  •  of  word  ^  me  seift  ou  C  (all  om.  mis)  20  a  mon  bibled  BT  mon 
islein  C. 

120,  3  f.  pis  is  of  euch  sunne  soft  hwi  blod  hit  bitacneft  7  norneliche  BC  (sinne 
by  alteration)1,  pis  is  of  euch  sunne  soft  •  hwi  blod  hit  bitacnes  7  nomeliche  T 
14  nis  he  BT  ne  is  he  C  17  auh  so  sone  so]  Sone  se  BT  sone  se  C. 

122,  1  ne  to  drauhft  rne  J?e  eorfte  om.  BCTG  4  cundel  BCTG  9  f.  ne  cweft 
he  neuer  a  word]  cwich  ne  cweft  he  neauer2  B  cwich  ne  cweft  he  neauere  TG  quic 
ne  queft  he  neauer  an  word  C  quich  ne  cweft  he  neuere  V  12  of  om.  BCTG 
13  f.  of  an  ancre — auelleft]  of  aricre  windfeallet  B  of  ancre  wind  failed  C  of  anker 
wind  fallet  T  of  a  mon  wind  failed  G  23  After  gledliche  add  7  bed  for  ham  J>e 
ham  seriden  him  BT  (j>)  G  (Jwit)  7  bed  for  ham  J>e  schenden  him  C  J>et  is 

cneolinde  om.  BGCT. 

124,  1  f.  let  him  7  t  gleadliche  breide  J>i  crime  B  let  him  7  tat  gladliche  breide 
}>i  crune  T  let  him  7  J?at  gladliche  br,eyderi  }>e  crune  G  let  him  gledliche  breide  Jn 
crune  C  3  J>e  o}>res  hond  BG  (oj>eres)  C  (hont)  his  bond  T  7  makest  lome 
}>rof  to  timbri  mi  crime  BC  (om.  ]?rot')  G  (|?erof)  makes  me  lorne  ]>rof,  to  timbri  mi 
crune  T  9  god]  freame  B  freome  C  fremen  G  god  T  14  bute  \>e  eir  ane  BCG 
bute  }>e  eares  ane  T  23  Alle  cunneft  wel]  7  cunneft  BCG  (arid)  7  cuimis  T 
26  wurpe]  duste  BCTGV. 

128,  9  reopen  7  rimien  BC  (ropin)  repen  7  rinen  T  11  fret  swufte  wel] 
freotewil  B  fretewil  C  freatewil  T  22  Auh  Dauid— }>ider  in]  Ah  Saul  wende 
]?ider  in  BT  Ach  Saul  wende  J>ider  C. 

1  Morton's  text  wrongly  prints  '  Hvvu  blod — wreftfte '  as  the  heading  of  a  section,  with 
no  authority. 

'2  This  phrase  'cwich  ne  cweft,'  'spoke  not  a  word,'  occurs  also  in  the  Legend  of 
St  Katharine,  1261,  but  is  wrongly  explained  in  the  N.E.D.  under  'quetch'  v. 


158  The  'Ancren  Riivle' 

130,  15   hearde  B    harde  CT         19   bitocned]  icleopede  BC    iclepede  T. 

132,  5  ff.  steorc]  strucoin  B  strucion  C  ostrice  T  10  riurS  wr$  wengen, 

obres  nawt  hiren  •  j>  is  leote  of  B  nurS  wrS  wengen  •  j?  is  lete  of  C  dune  wrS  wenges  • 
•£  is  lete  of  T  (noise  des  eles  nient  seons  mes  altrur  •  ceo  est  face  semblant  Fr.) 
20  uppart  B  upwart  C  vpward  T  upard  N. 

136,  6  f.  ne  bearf  bu  B  ne  }>arf  bu  C  rie  barf  be  T  18  After  Englis  add  $ 
slea$  gasteliche  ben  deouel  of  helle  •  ludith,  Confessio  B  )>e  sleaft  gasteliche  be 
deouel  of  helle  •  ludit  confessio  C  •£  sleas  gasteliche  be  deouel  of  helle  •  ludith 
interpretatur  confessio  T. 

138,  1  uet  keif]  feat  meare  B  fat  mare  T  forfrete  mare  C  2  be  feond  B  te 
feond  T  es  C. 

140,  2,  4  wel  neih]  for  neh  BT  for  nech  C  8  be  cubbel  to  be  ku,  ober  to  be 
ober  beast  ^  is  to  recchinde,  7  renginde  abuteh1  B  f>e  custel  to  be  ku,  oj?er  to  be 
beast  -J>  is  to  raikinde  T  to  be  reciter  o$er  to  an  ofter  beast  t  is  to  reachinde 
abuten  C  10  f.  loiter  to  feiterin  wift  be  sawlen  B  footer  to  foitere  wift  be  sawles  T 
forto  feftere  wrS  be  saule  C  21  cointe  7  couer  BT  cointe  7  kene  C  curre  BC 
cokT. 

142,  12  f.  schal  ancrin  o  be  ancre  •  bet  heo  hit  swa  halde  BC  (on  be...holde)  schal 
aricret  beo  o  be  anker  •  j>  ho  hit  swa  sy  halde  T  18  sturelj  neauer  •  ancre 

wunung  B  stut  neaure  ancre  wununge'  C  2. 

144,  27   After  nowiht  add  nowiter  ne  ne  here-3  B    om.  CG. 

146,  3  hit  is  uuel  to  BCG  7  selpen  Of  god  dede  om.  BCG  4  huden]  heolen 
BCG  26  treowefl]  trochrS  B  trochieS  C  mangen  T. 

148,  1  minimum]  nummuin  BN  numum  T  Mumuit  (?)  C  15  heole  7  hude 
BC  heole  7  huide  T. 

150,  3  adeadeft  be  treo  hwen  ETC  (hwenne)  benne  adedet  be  rote  treo,  hwen  G 
9  wrrS  BC  wrid  G  hules  T. 

154,  7  aa  me  ifint  B  oa  me  fint  C  mon  findes  T  87  ber  godd  edeawde  ham 
7  schawde  him  seolf  to  harn  •  7  sef  B  7  ber  god  schawede  him  seolf  to  ham  •  7  sef  C 
7  ter  godd  visited  ham  •  7  scheawede  him  self  to  ham  •  7  sef  T  19  turnel  weride 
BCT. 

156,  15  beowiste  £  is  wununge  bimong  men  B  bimong  men  iwist  C  beust 
bimong  men  T  22  his  suheite  BT  (C  om.  7  tet — suwefle). 

158,  \(end]  wordes]  beawes  BCT  14  barain]  bereget  B  barainse  T  (C  om.  of 
barain)  unspende  B  vn  spennede  C  vnspende  T  22  Wumme  BCT 

160,  1  burh  beowiste  B  burh  bewiste  T  forhewes3  C  5  ifulet  B  ifuled  C 
ifuilet  T  8  0  be  muchele  B  be  muchele  CT  13  stude]  lif  BC  stude  T 
bigeaten]  prominences  BT  pre  eminences  C  18  After  lif?  add  ne  fond  te  engel 
hire  in  anli  stude  al  ane  BC  (font  be)  T  (Ne). 

162,  6  bi  ham  i  fehte  B  bi  ham  i  be  fecht  C  bi  him  ibe  feht  T  16  softliche 
be  bisete  of  anlich  lif  •  as  beo  be  duden  BC  (anli)  soSliche  be  bejeate  of  anliche 
lif  =  as  ta  t  diden  T. 

164,  8  kecche]  lecche  BTG  leche  C  17  thesaurum  istum  in  BCG  thesaurum 
inT 

166,  16  stol]  scheomel  BC    sheomel  G    schamel  T. 

168, 1  beggilde  BCGT  2  burgeise  to  beore  purs  BCG  Burgeise  to  bere  purs  T 
6  ben  be  o$er  beo  be  sei«4  BG  (bene)  benne  be  o«er  ^e  seiS  C  ben  he  o«er  heo  t 
seis  T  10  hare  liuene'S  B  hare  liuena-S  G  hare  bileoue  C  (T  omits  the  clause] 
22  farniliarite  •  muche  cunredden  •  forte  beo  B  familiarite  •  Muchel  cuSbradden  • 
forte  beon  G  j>  is  to  beo  C  familiarite  •  Muche  cuftredne  •  for  to  be  T. 

170,  15  f.  sawueft  burh  ham  muche  folc  •  Monie  BC  (sauue'S  burch)  G  (muchel 
floe)  T  (sauue'S... Moni). 

172,  5  f.  folhede  ham  7  brec  ut  B,  folesede  ham  •  wende  ut  CG  (folehede)  T 
(folhede)  12  twinges]  ut  runes  BCG  tinflendes  T  Semeis  stude  wes  ierusalem 

1  The  Vernon  MS.  and  the  fragment  published  by  Prof.  Napier  both  support  this. 
T  is  defective  from  p.  142,  15  to  p.  146,  13. 

3  That  is,  '  for  he  wes.' 

4  That  is,  '  than  the  man  or  the  woman  who  saitb.' 


G.    C.    MACAULAY 


159 


•p  he  schulde  in  huden  him  B  Semeis  stude  wes  i  Jerusalem  •  bat  he  shulde  huden 
him  G  Semey  wes  iursalem  j>  he  schulde  in  huden  him  C  Semeis  stude  was  in 
Jerusalem  t  he  schulde  in  huiden  him  T  19  burfte  BG  burfte  C  Jmrte  T 
20  bah  a  clot  of  eorfte  j>  is  hire  licome  BTG  (eorfte  •  J>at)  C  (bach  an  clod). 

174,  19  bitrept  utewift  B  bitrepped  utewift  C  bitrappet  utewift  T  20  te  geal 
forke  •  j>  is  be  wearitreo  B  be  galeforke  •  be  waritreo  C  tegalheforke  •  be  waritreo 
T  22  biswike  wift  sunne  •  7  weiti  B  biswike  onon  summe  wise  •  7  weiti  C 
Biswike  osum  wise  7  weiten  T  22  f.  his  cleches  BC  (hise)  hore  clokes  T. 

176,11    bituneft]  timeft  BC    bitimeft  N    times  T. 

178,  19  ne  ne  mei]  he  ue  mei  B  henemei  C  henemai  T  26  one  wiftuten 
sunne]  ane  wift  uten *  BTC. 

180,  7  oriont  ^  ha  is  pine  •  licunge  wift  uten  licomes  heale  B  onont  •£  he  is  ipinet 
likinge  wift  uten  licomes  heale  T  licomes  heale  wift  uten,  is  licunge  C  14  f. 
ofter  i  bing  wift  uten,  ofter  of  bing  wift  uten  B  twint  wift  uten  •  ofter  of  bing  wift 
uten  C  ofter  ibing  wift  uten  ofter  obing  wift  innen  T  22  f.  misliche  unbeawes 
BCT  (mislich). 

182,  9  hat  forte  bolien  •  ah  na  bing  neclenseft  gold,  as  hit  deft  be  sawle  B  hat 
for  to  bolien  •  Ach  nan  fur  ne  clenseft  be  gold  as  hit  deft  be  saule  C  hat  for  to  Jtolien  • 
Ah  na  bing  ne  clenses  gold,  at  hit  dos  te  saule  T  10  lecheft  BC  ekes  T 
11  f.  Vor  moni— sent  om.  BCT  16  leche]  heale  BC  leche  T  21  bi  goldsmift 
BCT  (ti)  24  hwilinde  wa  BCT. 

184,  11    vile  be  lorimers  habbeft  B    file  •  t  lorimeres  habben  T    file  C. 

186,  5   schrepeft]  scratleft  B    schindleft  C    scrattes  T         14  eil  BCT. 

188,  4  bunkin2  B  buncin  C  berien  T  bunsen  V  bet  wa  bift  him  bes  Hues  B 
1>  wa  bift  him  hise  Hues  C  ^  wa  beon  beos  Hues  T  6  schulen  wullen  BC  (schule) 
T  (wille)  12  blodi  strundes  striken  adun  7  leaueden  dun  to  ber  eorfte  •  his  swete 
bodi3  B  blodi  strunden  strenden  adun  7  leafden  his  swete  bodi  C  blodi  strundes 
streamden  •  7  leafden  his  swete  bodi  T  blodi  stremes  oornen  adoun  and  laueden, 
His  swete  bodi  V  20  to  t  tet  he  bolede  BC  (j>  be)  to  t  he  bolede  T  21  reacheft 
BC  reaches  T  25  bi  swincful  B  swingful  C  swincful  T. 

190,  8  chapede  B  chepede  C  cheapede  T  9  sif  me  cheape  et  ow  om.  BCT 
18  7  hwa  wes  mare  priue  wift  be  king  of  heouene  hwil  he  her  wunede  BC  (be  hechse 
king)  T  (was...heuene)  27  eisfule  wiht  B  eilful  bing  C  ahefule  bing  T  fertul 
bing  V. 

192, 11—194,  12  om.  BVP*  192,  13  Vor  mid— 194,  2,  mede  om.  C  192,  11—20 
uoure  om.  T  (The  text  o/192,  21 — 194,  2  as  given  by  T  differs  considerably  from  that 
o/N)5. 

194,  14  bet  limpeft]  licunge  be  limpeft  BC    likinge  ^  limpes  T. 

196,  15  put]  sput  BC    puttes  T. 

198,  5  stinginde  BG  stinkinde  TCV  9  After  deft  add  ofter  seift  •  ofter  haueft 
wlite  ofter  wit  •  god  acointance  •  ofter  word  mare  ben  an  ofter  •  Cun  ofter  meistrie  •  7 
hire  wil  forftre  •  ant  hwet  is  wlite  wurft  her  •  gold  ring  i  suhe  nease  •  acointance  i 
religiun  •  wa  deft  hit  ofte  •  al  is  uana  gloria  •  be  let  eawiht  wel  of  BV  (down  to 
ofte)6  om.  CGT  13  ofter  ei  lahres  Tare  BG  (laheres)  oder  ani  lahedres  lare  T 
om.  C  16  After  ualleft  add  ofter  is  to  ouertrusti  up  o  godes  grace  •  ofter  on  hire 

1  That  is,  '  external  only. ' 

2  This  form  is  noticeable  :  see  N.E.D.  '  bunch  (u1).' 

3  In  the  readings  of  B  and  V,   'leaueden,'  'laueden,'  we  have  to  do  with  the  verb 
*  lauien  '  from  O.E.  '  lafian,'  used  intransitively  with  the  meaning  '  flow,'  '  run,'  as  in  the 
passage  quoted  in  N.E.D. ,  '  laue  v1,'  3  b.      The  words  '  dun  to  ber  eorfte '  in  B  are  perhaps 
an  explanatory  addition.     The  reading  of  CTN  is  due  to  misunderstanding  of  this  verb, 
and  confusion  with  '  leauen '  ('  leuen  ')  from  O.E.  '  laefan.' 

4  P,  however,  has  something  corresponding  to  194,  2 — 5. 

5  It  is  as  follows :  '  Mine  leue  childre  be  nesche  dale  is  to  drede  swifte  as  is  te  harde 
of  beose  fondinges  -p  arn  utti  e  ihaten  As  is  plente  of  mete  ofter  of  claft  7  of  swiche  binges  • 
Olhtninge  ofter  hereward  mihte  sone  make  sum  of  ow  fulitohen  sif  se  neren  be  heudere  • 
Muche  word  $  is  of  ow  •  hu  gentille  se  beon  •  sunge  of  seres  sulden  ow  •  7  bicomen  ancres  • 
forsoken  worldes  blisses  •  Al  bis '  etc. 

6  P  also  has  a  part  of  this  passage  in  altered  form. 


160  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

seolueii  •  to  bald  up  on  ei  mon  ~fi  is  fleschlich  as  heo  is  7  mei  beon  itemptet  BV  (down 
to  ei  mon)  om.  CGT  17  After  Inobedience  add  nawt  ane  be  ne  buhe$  •  ofter 
grucchinde  de«  •  otter  target  to  longe  •  B  om.  CGT  21  lauhweff]  lihe«  BG 
liseft  C  lihes  T  30  After  riote  about  twenty-seven  lines  added  BVP  om.  CGT. 

200,  6  f.  for  ber  ich  feiteri  on  a  word  tene  o$er  tweolue1  BG  (ober  tene)  T  (i  federe 
on  an)  (C  om.  Auh  se  —  tweolue)  9  iseouwed]  iheowet  BT  iheowed  C  ishowed  G 
17  an  latest  BGG  an  of  alle  lafteste  T  22  After  Schornunge  about  seventeen 
lines  added  BV  om.  CGT  27  After  Wodschipe  add  Bihald  te  ehnen  7  te  neb 
hwen  wod  wreaftSe  is  imunt  •  Bihald  hire  contenemenz  •  loke  on  hire  lates  •  Hercne 
hu  be  rmr$  geaft  •  7  tu  maht  demen  hire  wel  ut  of  hire  witte  BVP  om.  CGT. 

202,  2  After  eihte  about  five  lines  added  BVP  om.  CGT  3  Beore  B  beore 
CGT  6  herde]  earh  B  arch  C  erh  G  hard  T  10  stut  BC  stunt  GT  20  fest- 
schipe  •  prinschipe  of  seoue  BT  (fastschipe)  festshipe  prinshipe  of  seoue  G  fest- 
schipe  principe  of  seoue  C. 

204,  5  bet  is,  icharged  om.  BCGT  9  pigges]  gris  BCG  Grises  T  11  f.  I  drunch 
mare  ben  i  mete  beoiS  beos  gris  iferhet  B  Idrunch  mare  benne  i  mete  •  Nu  beoft  beose 
gris  ifareset  C  Idruch  more  ben  imete  beos  beos  gris  ibostred  G  i  drinch  mare  ben 
imete  beo$  beos  grises  iferhet  T  21  ft'.  On  is—  J>ideward]  ful  wil  to  t  furSe  wi« 
skiles  settunge  •  helpen  obre  biderward  B  ful  wil  to  J>at  ful-Se  wid  skiles  gettunge  • 
o)>er  helpen  Jdderward  G  ful  wil  •  •£  ful'Se  wi~S  schiles  settunge  •  helpen  ani  o'Ser 


]>iderward  C  ful  wil  to  t  ful^Se  wi'S  skiles  seatinge  •  t  is  hwen  ^e  skil  7  te  herte 
ne  wifl  seit$  nawt  •  bote  likeft  wel  7  serneiS  ^  flesch  hire  to  prokieiS  •  Helpen  ofter 
hiderward  T  24  weote  BCGT. 

206,  2  keaftB  caft  GT  om.  C  13  fundlesBCGT  idon]  icwerict  B  acwenht  C 
icwent  G  i  cwenched  T  15  Culche  BCGT  17  brune  cwench  BCGT  (brun) 
19  After  dedbote  add  £e  J>e  of  swucches  nute  nawt  •  ne  Jmrue  se  nawt  wundrin  ow 
ne  Jjenchen  hwet  ich  meane  •  Ah  seldeft  graces  godd  j>  se  swuch  uncleannesse  nabbeft 
ifondet  •  7  habbe^S  reowSe  of  harn  be  i  swuch  beoiS  ifallen  •  B  om.  CGTP  hwul  hwi 
BGT  huC. 

208,  16  nis  hit  te  spece  of  prude  inobedience  ?  Herto  failed  B  nis  hit  of  prude 
inobedience  •  her  to  failed  C  nis  hit  of  prude  •  Inobedience  •  Her  to  failed  T  nis  hit 
of  prude  inobedience  ?  Herto  failed  G  18  Neomunge  of'2  B  Neominge  of  GT 
neoming  of  (without  punctuation]  C  22  lure]  bisete  BC  bigete  G  lure  T  (of  his 
lure  ofter  of  his  bisete  C)  23  teohefti  mis  B  teonSen  mis  C  To  the  heben  mis  G 
tihede  mis  T  Tenthynge  amis  V  24  After  lone  add  oSer  ber  wi$  mis  fearen  B 
om.  CGT  26  bitaht  BT  bitacht  C  bitahted  G  28  Alswa  is  dusi  heast  BTG 
(hest)  alswa  •  i  dusi  heast  C  29  f.  abiden  •  ne  teache  BC  (teachen)  abiden  •  Ne 
teachen  G  abide  •  Ne  teache  T  (so  also  Fr.). 

(To  be  continued.) 

G.  C.  MACAULAY. 
CAMBRIDGE. 

1  That  is,  '  for  there  I  am  loading  ten  or  twelve  words  upon  one  '  :  cp.  p.  204,  3. 

2  This  begins  a  new  sentence. 


'PALAMON   AND   ARCITE'   AND 
THE   'KNIGHTES   TALE.' 

IN  the  preface  to  the  translation  of  Ovid's  Epistles  Dryden  dis- 
tinguishes three  kinds  of  translation — metaphrase,  paraphrase,  and 
imitation.  Metaphrase  he  defines  as  turning  an  author  word  by  word 
and  line  by  line  from  one  language  into  another,  as  Ben  Jonson 
translated  the  Ars  Poetica  of  Horace.  Paraphrase  is  translation  with 
latitude,  'where  the  author  is  kept  in  view  by  the  translator,  so  as 
never  to  be  lost,  but  his  words  are  not  so  strictly  followed  as  his  sense ; 
and  that  too  is  admitted  to  be  amplified  but  .not  altered.'  He  takes 
Waller's  translation  of  the  fourth  book  of  the  Aeneid  as  an  example  of 
this  kind.  Imitation  not  only  varies  the  words  and  sense  but  occasion- 
ally forsakes  them,  taking  only  general  hints  from  the  original,  and 
'  running  division  on  the  ground-work,'  as  Cowley  treated  Pindar  and 
Horace. 

In  modernising  Chaucer  Dryden  adopts  the  second  of  these  methods. 
He  does  not  tie  himself,  he  tells  us,  to  a  literal  translation,  but  often 
omits  what  he  judges  unnecessary,  or  not  of  dignity  enough  to  appear 
in  the  company  of  better  thoughts.  In  other  places  he  adds  something 
of  his  own  where  his  author  seems  deficient,  or  has  not  given  his  thoughts 
their  true  lustre,  '  for  want  of  words  in  the  beginning  of  our  language.' 
The  beauties  he  loses  in  some  places  he  gives  to  others  which  originally 
had  them  not. 

Comparing  Palamon  and  Arcite  with  the  Knightes  Tale  we  find 
that  Dryden's  purpose  generally  seems  to  be  to  make  the  language 
more  pointed,  epigrammatic,  and  antithetical ;  to  render  the  vague 
more  definite,  and  the  allusive  more  explicit;  to  fill  in  outlines  and  to 
complete  pictures;  to  make  the  narrative  logical  and  consistent;  to 
supply  missing  links  in  the  chain  of  thought ;  to  dignify,  polish,  and 
adorn ;  in  short,  to  array  what  he  considered  to  be  the  primitive  and 
crude  simplicity  of  Chaucer's  language  in  the  elegant  and  ornate  court- 
dress  of  Restoration  rhetoric. 


M.  L    R.  IX. 


11 


162      ' Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  'Knightes  Tale' 

When  it  is  remembered  that  there  are  only  about  seven  lines  in 
Palamon  and  Arcite  adopted  from  the  Knightes  Tale  without  change 
(except  in  spelling),  it  will  be  seen  that  to  give  an  exhaustive  list  of 
variations  would  practically  mean  reproducing  the  two  poems  in  full. 
It  will  be  enough  to  give  a  few  of  the  more  striking  examples  of  each 
case,  classified  under  the  two  heads  -of  omission  and  addition,  as  defined 
by  Dryden  himself,  adding  a  third  class  of  general  changes  made  for 
various  reasons.  The  Knightes  Tale  will  be  indicated,  by  K.,  and  the 
three  parts  of  Palamon  and  Arcite  respectively  by  P1.,  P2.,  and  P3.  It 
will  be  noticed  that  Dryden  at  first  follows  his  original  with  fair  fidelity, 
but  gradually  takes  more  and  more  liberties,  making  large  additions 
and  extensive  changes,  sometimes  without  apparent  reason. 

I.     OMISSIONS. 

Colloquial  expletives  are  omitted,  such  as  'this  is  the  short  and 
playn '  (K.  233),  '  ther  nys  namoore  to  saye '  (K.  264),  '  ther  nys  no 
remedye'  (K.  416),  'what  nedeth  wordes  mo?'  (K.  857),  'I  kan  say 
yow  no  ferre'  (K.  1202). 

Similarly,  longer  colloquialisms,  introduced  by  Chaucer  to  maintain 
the  vraisemblance  of  the  story  as  told  by  the  Knight,  are  omitted  or 
changed,  as  unsuitable  for  a  narrative  poem.  Such  are : 

Why  sholde  I  noght  as  wel  eek  telle  yow  al 

The  portraiture  that  was  upon  the  wal?  K.  1109—10. 

Of  this  bataille  I  wol  namoore  endite, 

But  speke  of  Palamoun  and  of  Arcyte.  K.  1883—4. 

When  Chaucer  uses  two  similar  illustrations,  Dryden  sometimes 
omits  one.  Thus, 

The  fallynge  of  the  toures  and  of  the  wallet* 

Upon  the  mynour  or  the  carpenter,  K.  1606—7. 

is  reduced  to 

And  Miners,  crush'd  beneath  their  Mines  are  found.  P3.  415. 

Sometimes  a  speech  is  omitted  as  implied  in  the  narrative.      So, 
when  a  woman  in  travail  invokes  the  aid  of  Lucina  (K.  1225 — 8),  the  - 
words  of  her  prayer,  '  Helpe,  for  thou  mayst  best  of  alle,'  are  left  out  in 
P2.  654. 

Expressions  or  incidents  unpleasing  to  modern  taste,  or  inconsistent 
with  conventional  conceptions,  are  frequently  omitted.  In  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  statue  of  Mars  Dryden  omits  the  couplet, 

A  wolf  ther  stod  biforn  hym  at  his  feet 

With  eyen  rede,  and  of  a  man  he  eet.  K.  1189—90. 


W.    H.    WILLIAMS  163 

The  touch,  '  Ther-with  he  weep  that  pitee  was  to  heere '  (K.  2020), 
is  omitted  in  P3.  919  as  inconsistent  with  the  conventional  idea  of  the 
heroic  character  of  Theseus.  In  K.  2050  Egeus  and  Theseus  bear- 
vessels  'ful  of  hony,  milk,  and  blood,  and  wyn.'  Dryden  omits  the 
blood  in  P3.  946. 

Sometimes  we  miss  realistic  details  apparently  regarded  as  '  not  of 
dignity  enough  to  appear  in  the  company  of  better  thoughts.'  In  the 
account  of  the  festival  in  Theseus'  palace  Dryden  omits  the  homely 
detail, 

What  haukes  sitten  on  the  perch  above, 

What  houndes  liggen  in  the  floor  adoun.  K.  1347 — 8. 

Chaucer  makes  Arcite,  after  falling  from  his  horse,  lie  'as  fclak  as 
any  cole  or  crow'  (K.  1834).  This  is  dignified  into  'black  was  his 
Count'nance '  (P3.  705).  At  the  funeral  of  Arcite  Palamon  appears 
*  With  flotery  berd  and  ruggy  asshy  heeres '  (K.  2025).  In  Dryden's 
description,  '  His  Aubourn  Locks  on  either  shoulder  flow'd '  (P8.  924). 
In  '  wel  may  men  knowe,  but  it  be  a  fool '  (K.  2147),  Dryden  omits  the 
latter  clause. 

At  other  times  details  are  left  out,  seemingly  as  unnecessary  and 
superfluous.  This  would  appear  to  be  the  reason  for  the  omission  of 
the  second  line  of  the  couplet, 

Wel  coude  he  peynten  lifly,  that  it  wroghte ; 

With  many  a  floryn  he  the  hewes  boghte.  K.  1229—30. 

After  the  tournament  Chaucer  says  that  they  were  glad  that  none 
were  slain,  though  all  were  sorely  hurt,  especially  one  '  That  with  a 
spere  was  thirled  his  brest  boon '  (K.  1852).  There  is  no  hint  of  this 
in  P3.  724.  So,  in  the  description  of  Arcite's  funeral,  Dryden  omits  the 
concluding  couplet, 

And  how  that  lad  was  homward  Emelye; 

Ne  how  Arcite  is  brent  to  asshen  colde.  K.  2098 — 9» 

Similarly,  anything  that  might  appear  out  of  keeping  with  the 
general  tone  of  the  passage  is  excluded.  This  may  explain  the  absence 
of  the  second  clause  in  '  yet  song  the  larke,  and  Palamon  also '  (K.  1354). 
The  phrase,  '  in  this  wrecched  world  adoun '  (K.  2137)  does  not  appear 
in  P3.  1032,  perhaps  as  out  of  harmony  with  the  'Golden  Chain 
of  Love.' 

The  desire  to  avoid  repetition  seems  to  cause  other  omissions. 
Thus,  'hath  everich  of  hem  broght  an  hundred  knyghtes'  (K.  1241) 
is  not  inserted,  as  virtually  repeating,  '  that  everich  sholde  an  hundred 
knyghtes  brynge'  (K.  1238).  '  Lene  me  youre  hond'  (K.  2224)  is 

11—2 


164      'Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  'Knightes  Tale' 

struck  out  of  P3.  1129,  as  implied  in  '  taak  youre  lady  by  the  hond ' 
(K.  2235). 

In  a  few  passages  Dryden  apparently  scents  an  anticlimax.  After 
mentioning  '  clooth  of  gold '  and  '  perrye '  as  part  of  the  funeral  pile, 
Chaucer  adds,  'and  garlandes,  hangynge  with  ful  many  a  flour' 
(K.  2079).  This  is  not  found  in  P3.  977.  So,  in  K.  2090,  after  jewels, 
shields,  and  spears  have  been  cast  into  the  funeral  fire,  some  throw  in 
their  'vestimentz  whiche  that  they  were,'  but  Dryden  says  nothing  of 
this  (P3.  989). 

Occasionally,  one  cannot  help  suspecting  that  archaic  words  or 
phrases  are  'omitted  through  ignorance  of  their  meaning.  Thus,  the 
obsolete  word  '  shepne '  may  be  responsible  for  the  absence  of  the  line, 
'The  shepne,  brennynge  with  the  blake  smoke'  (K.  1142),  in  the 
description  of  the  temple  of  Mars.  So,  '  shode '  may  account  for  the 
disappearance  of  'The  nayl  y-driven  in  the  shode  a-nyght'  (K.  1149), 
in  the  picture  of  the  suicide.  Lycurgus'  wolf-hounds,  '  Colered  of  gold 
and  tourettes  fyled  rounde'  (K.  1294),  lose  the  second  part  of  their 
adornment  in  P3.  59,  and  only  'Collars  of  the  same  their  Necks 
surround.'  In  the  description  of  the  tournament  the  line,  '  He  feeleth 
thurgh  the  herte-spoon  the  prikke'  (K.  1748),  is  omitted. 


II.    ADDITIONS. 

Epithets  are  constantly  added.  In  K.  155 — 6  Arcite  and  Palamon 
are  introduced  without  epithets.  In  the  corresponding  passage, 
P1.  155 — 6,  they  appear  as  'much  fam'd  in  Fields'  and  'valiant' 
respectively.  In  K.  840  Theseus  was  'war  of  Arcite  and  Palamon,' 
while  in  P2.  242  '  he  saw  proud  Arcite  and  fierce  Palamon.'  '  Antonius ' 
(K.  1174)  becomes  (with  a  reminiscence  of  Dryden's  All  for  Love,  or  the 
World  well -lost)  'Antony,  who  lost  the  World  for  Love'  (P2.  607). 
A  typical  instance  is  P3.  959 — 64,  where,  out  of  a  bare  enumeration 
of  twenty-one  trees  in  K.  2063 — 5,  Dryden  selects  ten,  adding  epithets 
to  eight. 

Similarly,  illustrations  are  sometimes  added  to  embellish  the  passage. 
Thus,  the  plain  statement  that  'dukes,  erles,  kynges'  came  to  help 
Arcite  (K.  1324)  is  not  unhappily  heightened  by  the  addition,  '  Like 
sparkling  Stars,  though  diff'rent  in  Degree'  (P3.  95).  Theseus'  old 
father  Egeus  had  seen  the  vicissitudes  of  '  loye  after  wo,  and  wo  after 
gladnesse'  (K.  1983).  Dryden  adds,  'Alternate,  like  the  Scenes  of  Day 
and  Night '  (P3.  882). 


'.    H.    WILLIAMS  165 

frequently  added  to  complete  the  scene,  or  for  pictorial 
effect.  In  K.  912  Theseus  simply  '  hadde  compassioun  of  wommen.' 
Dryden  adds  the  touches  '  he  look VI  under  with  his  Eyes '  (P2.  340), 
and  '  he  shook  his  Head '  (P2.  342).  To  the  '  knotty,  knarry,  bareyne 
trees  olde'  (K.  1119),  in  the  forest  painted  on  the  wall  of  the  temple  of 
Mars,  he  adds,  'A  Cake  of  Scurf  lies  baking  on  the  Ground '  (P2.  534). 
Diana's  'smale  houndes  al  aboute  hir  feet'  (K.  1218)  become  'That 
watch'd  with  upward  Eyes  the  Motions  of  their  Queen'  (P2.  645).  The 
picture  of  Diana  herself,  '  with  bo  we  in  honde '  (K.  1222),  is  elaborated 

into 

Her  Legs  were  Buskin'd,  and  the  Left  before, 

In  act  to  shoot,  a  Silver  Bow  she  bore.  P2.  646—7. 

When  the  hundred  lords  who  accompany  Emetreus  'been... in  the  toun 
alight'  (K.  1331),  the  scene  is  developed  in  P3.  104  by  adding  '  Rich 
Tap'stry  spread  the  Streets,  and  Flow'rs  the  Pots  adorn.'  When  Emily 
prays  to  Diana  (K.  1438),  Dryden  describes  her,  like  Cophetua's  beggar 
maid,  as  'kneeling  with  her  Hands  across  her  Breast'  (P3.  213).  In 
Arcite's  prayer  to  Mars,  '  And  hem  fortunest  as  thee  lyst  devyse ' 
(K.  1519),  is  expanded  into 

Terrour  is  Jbhine,  and  wild  Amazement  flung 

From  out  thy  Chariot,  withers  ev'n  the  Strong: 

And  Disarray  and  shameful  Rout  ensue, 

And  Force  is  added  to  the  fainting  Crew.  P3.  302—5. 

After  describing  the  march  of  the  troops  through  Athens, 
Dryden  adds 

The  Fair  from  high  the  passing  Pomp  behold; 

A  Rain  of  Flow'rs  is  from  the  Windows  roll'd.  P3.  532—3. 

In  the  account  of  the  joust,  '  In  goon  the  speres  ful  sadly  in  arrest ' 
(K.  1744)  becomes 

Their  Vizors  clos'd,  their  Lances  in  the  Rest, 

Or  at  the  Helmet  pointed,  or  the  Crest.  P3.  583—4. 

And  afterwards  Dryden  adds 

The  Steeds  without  their  Riders  scour  the  Field. 

The  Knights  unhors'd,  on  Foot  renew  the  Fight.  P3.  600—1. 

When  Arcite,  after  his  fall,  '  lay  as  he  were  deed '  (K.  1832),  the 
pictorial  touch,  '  He  quiver'd  with  his  Feet,'  is  added  (P3.  704) ;  and 
the  description  of  the  treatment  of  the  wounded  (K.  1853),  is  completed 
by  'The  Surgeons  soon  despoil'd  'em  of  their  Arms'  (P3.  725).  So, 
when  Theseus  laid  Arcite,  '  bare  the  visage,  on  the  beere '  (K.  2019), 
Dryden  colours  the  austere  outline  by  the  addition,  '  Menac'd  his 
Countenance,  ev'n  in  Death  severe'  (P3.  917). 


166       'Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  '  Knightes  Tale' 

Additions  sometimes  seem  to  be  made  for  the  purpose  of  completing 
the  enumeration.  Thus  '  Fowl '  is  added  to  '  neither  Beast  nor  Humane 
Kind  '  (P2.  532—3) ;  '  Emeralds '  to  pearls  and  rubies  (P3.  69) ;  '  Myrtle 
to  laurel  (P3.  87) ;  so,  after  '  a  coroune  of  laurer '  (K.  2017),  Dryden  adds, 
'  mix'd  with  Myrtle '  (P3.  913).  '  Cracchynge  of  chekes,  rentynge  eek 
of  heer'  (K.  1976),  becomes 

Old  Men  with  Dust  deform'd  their  hoary  Hair, 

The  Women  beat  their  Breasts,  their  Cheeks  they  tear. 

P3.  871—2. 

Occasionally  circumstances  are  added  to  '  credibilise '  the  incident. 
So,  in  describing  Palamon's  escape  from  prison,  Dryden  represents  the 
night  as  'moonless'  (P2.  13).  The  material  representation  of  sighs 
and  tears  on  the  walls  of  the  temple  of  Venus  (K.  1062),  is  made  more 
palpable  by  paraphrasing  as  'issuing  Sighs  that  smoak'd  along  the 
Wall,'  and  '  scalding  Tears,  that  wore  a  Channel  where  they  fall ' 
(P2.  474,  476).  When  Theseus  announces  his  decision  (K.  1798—1801), 
Dryden  adds,  in  order  to  explain  how  the  multitude  could  hear, 

The  Sound  of  Trumpets  to  the  Voice  reply'd, 

And  round  the  Royal  Lists  the  Heralds  cry'd.  P5.  662—3. 

To  account  for  the  inflammability  of  the  funeral  pyre,  we  find  in 
P3.  958,  '  with  Sulphur  and  Bitumen  cast  between,  to  feed  the  Flames.' 
When  Emily  is  bestowed  on  Palamon,  Dryden  makes  Theseus  justify 
the  betrothal  by  saying  'since  Emily  By  Arcite's  Death  from  former 
Vows  is  free'  (P3.  1125). 

Explanatory  statements  are  often  added.  '  The  Butcher,  Armourer, 
and  Smith '  (P2.  598),  are  further  described  as,  '  All  Trades  of  Death 
that  deal  in  Steel  for  Gain.'  The  '  thre  formes '  of  Diana  (K.  1455), 
are  explained,  '  as  thou  art  seen  In  Heav'n,  Earth,  Hell,  and  ev'ry  where 
a  Queen'  (P3.  232 — 3).  Emily's  vow  to  Diana,  'I  wol  thee  serve' 
(K.  1472),  is  made  more  explicit  by  adding,  '  And  only  make  the  Beasts 
of  Chace  my  Prey'  (P3.  .247).  And  when  she  is  'astoned'  at  the 
answer  of  the  goddess  (K.  1503),  the  reason  is  given  in  P3.  284,  because 
she  is  '  Disclaim'd,  and  now  no  more  a  Sister  of  the  Wood.'  Saturn's 
statement  that  he  is  the  cause  of  the  'cherles  rebellyng'  (K.  1601),  is 
explained  by  continuing,  '  I  arm  their  Hands,  and  furnish  the  Pretence  ' 
(P3.  409).  The  purpose  of  the  bier  sent  by  Theseus  (K.  2013),  is  rather 
unnecessarily  defined  as,  '  On  which  the  lifeless  Body  should  be  rear'd ' 
(P3.  909).  The  reason  for  putting  '  a  swerd  ful  bright  and  kene ' 
(K.  2018),  in  the  hands  of  the  dead  Arcite,  is  stated  to  be  that  it  might 
serve  as  'The  warlike  Emblem  of  the  conquer'd  Field'  (P3.  915).  So 


W.    H.    WILLIAMS 


167 


the  reason  why  mortals  may  'the  dayes  wel  abregge'  (K.  2141),  is 
given  as  '  for  Will  is  free '  (P3.  1036).  The  principle  that  '  every  part 
dirryveth  from  his  hool'  (K.  2148),  is  explained  by  adding,  'but  God 
the  Whole  ;  Who  gives  us  Life,  and  animating  Soul '  (P3.  1042).  In  the 
next  line,  where  Chaucer  states  that  nature  has  not  taken  its  beginning 
from  any  part,  Dryden  supplies  the  step,  '  which  the  Whole  can  only 
give '  (P3.  1045). 

Additions  are  also  made  to  give  further  explanation  of  phrases  or 
usages  not  familiar  to  the  eighteenth  century.  'Thus  artow  of  my 
conseil '  (K.  283),  is  explained  by  adding,  '  and  the  Friend  Whose  Faith 
I  trust,  and  on  whose  Care  depend '  (P1.  301 — 2).  Chaucer's  reference 
to  '  positif  lawe '  (K.  309)  is  transformed  into  '  Laws  are  not  positive ; 
Loves  Pow'r  we  see  Is  Natures  Sanction,  and  her  first  Decree ' 
(P1.  329 — 30).  Dryden  of  course  completely  fails  to  understand 
'  positif  law '  (i.e.  '  lex  positiva,'  the  law  added  by  merely  human 
authority,  as  opposed  to  the  law  of  nature). 

Sometimes  the  addition  takes  the  form  of  explicitly  stating  what 
Chaucer  leaves  to  be  inferred  from  the  context.  Thus,  '  To  hym  that 
meneth  wel  it  were  no  charge'  (K.  1429),  is  completed  by  adding,  'but 
for  the  rest,  Things  Sacred  they  pervert,  and  Silence  is  the  best' 
(P3.  205—6). 

So  details  implied,  but  not  explicitly  stated  in  the  original,  are 
sometimes  supplied.  After  'al  styntyd  is  the  moornynge  and  the 
teres'  (K.  2110),  Dryden  adds,  'and  Palamon  long  since  to  Thebes 
return'd'  (P3.  1005). 

A  connecting  couplet  is  often  added  to  facilitate  the  transition  from 
one  scene  to  another.  The  entrance  of  Arcite  into  the  lists  (K.  1722), 
is  introduced  by  the  couplet, 

Now  chang'd  the  jarring  Noise  to  Whispers  low, 

As  Winds  forsaking  Seas  more  softly  blow.  P5.  554—5. 

The  transition  from  earth  to  heaven,  from  the  victory  of  Arcite  in  the 
lists  to  the  dismay  of  Venus,  the  patroness  of  Palamon,  is  made  less 
abrupt  by  the  lines, 


Arcite  is  own'd  ev'n  by  the  Gods  above, 

And  conqu'ring  Mars  insults  the  Queen  of  Love. 


F*.  667—8. 


Similarly,  the  transition  from  the  festivities  after  the  tournament  to 
the  death-bed  of  Arcite  (K.  1885),  is  effected  by  adding  the  couplet, 

Meanwhile  the  Health  of  Arcite  still  impairs; 

From  Bad  proceeds  to,  Worse,  and  mocks  the  Leeches  Cares. 

P:J.  749—50. 


168       'Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  'Knightes  Tale' 

Conditions  are  sometimes  supplied  to  make  the  statement  more 
complete.  Before  the  statement, 

And  certeinly  a  man  hath  moost  honour, 

To  dyen  in  his  excellence  and  flour,  K.  2189 — 90. 

Dryden  inserts  the  condition,  'cou'd  we  chuse  the  Time,  and  chuse 
aright '  (P3.  1088). 

Reasons  and  causes  of  actions  are  sometimes  added.  When  Theseus 
finds  Palamon  and  Arcite  fighting,  Palamon  prays  him,  'Ne  yeve  us 
neither  mercy  ne  refuge'  (K.  862).  Dryden  adds  the  reason,  'for 
Grace  is  Cruelty '  (P2.  269).  Similarly,  he  accounts  for  Arcite's  casting 
his  eyes  upon  Emily, 

Thurgh  a  wyndow,  thikke  of  many  a  barre  of  iren,  K.  219. 

as  he  was  '  in  the  chambre  roinynge  to  and  fro,'  by  adding  that  he  was 
'  with  walking  giddy,  and  with  thinking  tir'd '  (P1.  228). 

Dryden  is  rather  fond  of  adding  classical  allusions.  Where  Palamon 
simply  says  of  Emily, 

I  noot  wher  she  be  womman  or  goddesse; 

But  Venus  is  it,  soothly,  as  I'gesse,  K.  243 — 4. 

Dryden  embroiders  the  passage  with  misplaced  erudition : 

A  Glance  of  some  new  Goddess  gave  the  Wound, 

Whom,  like  Acteon,  unaware  I  found. 

Look  how  she  walks  along  yon  shady  Space, 

Not  Juno  moves  with  more  Majestick  Grace ; 

And  all  the  Cyprian  Queen  is  in  her  Face.  P1.  257 — 61. 

So  in  P2.  512  Venus  is  described  thus: 

Smiling  she  seem'd,  and  full  of  pleasing  Thought : 
From  Ocean  as  she  first  began  to  rise. 

After  mentioning  the  lions  and  the  leopards  round  Emetreus,  Dryden 
adds 

So  Bacchus  through  the  conquer'd  Indies  rode, 

And  Beasts  in  Gambols  frisk'd  before  their  honest  God. 

P3.  99—100. 

In  the  same  way  he  occasionally  introduces  classical  tags,  such 
as  'each  an  Army  seem'd  alone'  (P3.  8);  'unknowing  how  to  yield' 
[Horace's  cedere  nesvius]  (P3.  309) ;  '  the  Publick  Care '  [Horace's  publica 
cum]  (P3.  315);  'and  while  we  live,  to  live'  (P3.  1114). 

Additions  of  pseudo-classical  imitations,  probably  under  the  influence 
of  his  translations  of  Virgil  and  Ovid,  are  frequent.  After  describing 


W.    H.    WILLIAMS  169 

the  assemblage  of  the  crowd  on  the  morning  of  the  tournament 
Dryden  adds 

confus'd  and  high 

Ev'n  from  the  Heav'n  was  heard  a  shouting  Cry ; 
For  Mars  was  early  up,  and  rowz'd  the  Sky. 
The  Gods  came  downward  to  behold  the  Wars, 
Sharp'ning  their  Sights,  and  leaning  from  their  Stars. 

P3.  438—42. 

After  saying  that  Mars  triumphed  over  Venus,  Dryden  adds 

So  laugh'd  he,  when  the  rightful  Titan  fail'd, 

And  Jove's  usurping  Arms  in  Heav'n  prevail'd:  P3.  669 — 70. 

At  the  funeral  of  Arcite,  Palamon's  '  ruggy  asshy  heeres '  (K.  2025), 
are  transformed  into  *  aubourn  Locks,  which  to  the  Fun'ral  of  his  Friend 
he  vow'd  '  (P3.  925).  The  '  loud  shoutynge '  (K.  2095),  with  which  the 
Greeks  thrice  rode  about  the  fire,  becomes  '  Hail,  and  Farewell,  they 
shouted  thrice  amain '  (P3.  994) — a  reminiscence  of  Catullus'  farewell 
to  .his  dead  brother,  'in  perpetuom,  frater,  aue  atque  uale '  (ci.  10),  or 
Virgil's  'salue  aeternum  mihi,  maxume  Palla,  aeternumque  uale'  (Aen. 
xi.  97—8). 

Frigid  conceits,  not  found  in  the  original,  are  frequently  added. 
Chaucer  makes  Arcite  exclaim,  '  Ye  sleen  me  with  youre  eyen,  Emelye  ! 
Ye  been  the  cause  wherfore  that  I  dye  ! '  (K.  709 — 10).  Dryden  makes 
him  add 

Of  such  a  Goddess  no  Time  leaves  Record, 

Who  burn'd  the  Temple  where  she  was  ador'd.  P2.  115 — 6. 

In  describing  the  picture  of  the  woman  in  travail  calling  upon  Lucina, 
Chaucer  says  simply,  '  Wei  coude  he  peynten  lifly,  that  it  wroghte  ' 
(K.  1229).  Dryden  adds 

That  Nature  snatch'd  the  Pencil  from  his  Hand, 

Asham'd  and  angry  that  his  Art  could  feign 

And  mend  the  Tortures  of  a  Mothers  Pain.  P2.  656—8. 

Occasionally  purple  patches  of  description  are  introduced.  In 
Chaucer's  account  of  the  tournament  (K.  1741 — 77),  there  is  nothing- 
corresponding  to  the  12  lines  inserted  by  Dryden,  beginning  'A  Cloud 
of  Smoke  envellops  either  Host,'  and  ending  '  But  Men  and  Steeds  lie 
grov'ling  on  the  Ground '  (P3.  587—98). 

Topical  or  local  allusions  are  sometimes  added.  After  saying  that 
Theseus  '  thought  his  mighty  Cost  was  well  bestow'd '  (P2.  660), 
Dryden  adds 

So  Princes  now  their  Poets  should  regard ; 
But  few  can  write,  and  fewer  can  reward. 


170       'Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  'Knightes  Tale' 

Where  Chaucer  merely  speaks  of  'Engelond'  (K.  1255),  Dryden  adds 
'an  Isle  for  Love  and  Arms  of  old  renown 'd'  (P3.  17);  and  three  lines 
further, 

And  had  the  Land  selected  of  the  best, 

Half  had  come  hence,  and  let  the  World  provide  the  rest. 

P3.  20-1. 

After  describing  how  Mars  laughed  at  Venus,  he  inserts  the  couplet, 

Laugh'd  all  the  Pow'rs  who  favour  Tyranny; 

And  all  the  Standing  Army  of  the  Sky.  P3.  671—2. 

• 
Once   he   adds   a   couplet,   apparently   prompted    by   his    love   of 

astrological  technicalities.  When  Saturn  was  reconciling  the  difference 
between  Venus  and  Mars  (K.  1592),  his  relation  to  both  is  thus 
described : 

By  Fortune  he  was  now  to  Venus  Trin'd, 

And  with  stern  Mars  in  Capricorn  was  joiird.  P3.  389 — 90. 

So,  a  few  additions  are  due  to  his  fatalism.  '  Som  tyme  an  ende 
ther  is  of  every  dede'  (K.  1778),  is  expanded  into 

At  length,  as  Fate  foredoorn'd,  and  all  things  tend 

By  Course  of  Time  to  their  appointed  End.  P3.  636—7. 

In  Theseus'  speech  to  Emily,  after  'gentil  Palamon,  thyn  owene 
knyght,  That  serveth  yow  with  wille,  herte,  and  myght '  (K.  2219—20), 
Dryden  adds  '  And  well  deserv'd,  had  Fortune  done  him  Right ' 
(P3.  1124). 

Circumstances  required  by  modern  custom  are  sometimes  added. 
When  Arcite  lay  'as  blak  as  any  cole  or  crowe'  (K.  1834),  Dryden 
adds  that  they  '  lanc'd  a  Vein,  and  watch'd  returning  Breath ' 
(P3.  709). 

A  very  common  device  is  the  addition  of  an  epigrammatic,  anti- 
thetical, 'conceited,'  or  paradoxical  sentence,  to  sum  up,  or  make  the 
passage  more  pointed.  Before  Saturn  composes  the  strife  between 
Venus  and  Mars,  Dryden  introduces  the  line,  '  He  sooth'd  the  Goddess, 
while  he  gull'd  the  God'  (P3.  392);  and  after  his  speech  ends  the 
episode  with  the  words, 

Th'  Expedient  pleas'd  where  neither  lost  his  Right: 
.  Mars  had  the  Day,  and    Venus  had  the  Night. 
The  Management  they  left  to  Chrond's  Care.  P3.  424 — 6. 

Chaucer  simply  compares  Arcite  to  a  tigress  robbed  of  her  whelp,  and 
Palamon  to  a  lion  maddened  with  hunger  (K.  1768 — 75).  Dryden 


W.    H.    WILLIAMS  171 

turns  the  passage  into  a  simile  of  a  tiger  and  a  lion  fighting  over  a 
bullock,  and  ends  with  the  unhappy  couplet, 

They  bite,  they  tear;  and  while  in  vain  they  strive, 

The  Swains  come  arm'd  between,  and  both  to  distance  drive. 

ps.  634—5. 

After  that  passage  of  incomparable  pathos  in  Arcite's  dying  speech, 

Now  with  his  love,  now  in  his  colde  grave, 

Allone,  withouten  any  compaignye,  K.   1920 — 1. 

we  find  the  unnatural  conceit, 

This  Fate  is  common  ;  but  I  lose  my  Breath, 

Near  Bliss,  and  yet  not  bless'd  before  my  Death.          P:i.  798—9. 

It  is  a  pity  that  Dryden  did  not  think  of  his  own  criticism  on  a  similar 
passage  in  Ovid.  '  Wou'd  any  Man  who  is  ready  to  die  for  Love, 
describe  his  Passion  like  Narcissus  ?  Wou'd  he  think  of  inopem  me 
copia  fecit  ?...If  this  were  Wit,  was  this  a  time  to  be  witty,  when  the 
poor  Wretch  was  in  the  Agony  of  Death  ? '  So,  instead  of  imitating 
Chaucer's  reserve  in  leaving  Emily's  surrender  to  be  understood  rather 
than  described,  he  cannot  resist  the  temptation  of  adding  an  epigram- 
matic couplet : 

He  said ;  she  blush'd ;  and,  as  o'eraw'd  by  Might, 
Seem'd  to  give  Theseus.  What  she  gave  the  Knight. 

P:J.  1135—6. 

Some  of  the  additions  are  inconsistent  with  the  magnanimous  and 
chivalrous  spirit  of  the  original.  Palamon's  laconic  answer, '  I  graunte 
it  thee '  (K.  762),  to  Arcite's  proposal,  loses  dignity  in  Dryden's  '  his 
promise  Palamon  accepts ;  but  prayd  To  keep  it  better  than  the  first  he 
made  '  (P2.  162 — 3).  When  Arcite  says  that  he  will  hang  all  the  arms 
of  his  company  in  the  temple  of  Mars,  Dryden  makes  him  add,  '  and 
below,  With  Arms  revers'd,  th'  Atchievements  of  my  Foe'  (P3.  343 — 4). 
To  Palamon's  sorrow  that  he  may  not  fight  again  (K.  1795)  we  find  the 
addition, 

And  worse  than  Death,  to  view  with  hateful  Eyes 

His  Rival's  Conquest,  and  renounce  the  Prize.  P:5.  656 — 7. 

Some  additions  or  changes  are  made  to  avoid  the  appearance  of 
anachronism.  When  Chaucer  compares  the  mourning  at  the  death  of 
Arcite  to  the  weeping  '  Whan  Ector  was  y-broght  al  fressh  y-slayn 
To  Troye'  (K.  1974),  Dryden  adds  '  but  Hector  was  not  then '  (P3.  870). 
In  K.  2241—2,  where  Chaucer  makes  the  Knight  some  2000  years  after 
the  event  breathe  the  prayer, 

And  God,  that  al  this  wyde  world  hath  wroght, 
Sende  hym  his  love  that  hath  it  deere  aboght, 


172       'Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  'Kniyhtes  Tale' 

Dryden  changes  the  wish  into  a  statement  of  fact : 

Thus  Heav'n,  beyond  the  Compass  of  his  Thought, 

Sent  him  the  Blessing  he  so  dearly  bought.  P:!.  1152 — 3. 

The  rhyme  seems  to  cause  some  additions.  In  the  temple  of  Venus 
Chaucer  says  of  Cupid,  '  A  bowe  he  bar  and  arwes  brighte  and  kene ' 
(K.  1108).  Dryden  turns  this : 

His  Hands  a  Bow,  his  Back  a  Quiver  bore, 

Supply'd  with  Arrows  bright  and  keen,  a  deadly  'Store. 

P2.  522—3. 

In  the  tournament  the  original  has 

The  helrnes  they  to-hewen  and  to-shrede, 

Out  brest  the  blood  with  stierne  stremes  rede.  K.  1751. 

This  becomes 

Hauberks  and  Helms  are  hew'd  with  many  a  Wound ; 
Out  spins  the  streaming  Blood,  and  dies  the  Ground. 

P3.  603—4. 

At  the  funeral  of  Arcite  the  noblest  of  the  Greeks  carried  the  bier  upon 
their  shoulders  '  with  slake  pas '  (K.  2043).  Dryden  adds  '  and  often 
staid,'  apparently  to  rhyme  with  '  the  Corps  convey 'd '  (P3.  940). 

(To  be  concluded.) 

W.  H.  WILLIAMS. 
HOBART,  TASMANIA 


THE    'BATTIFOLLE'   LETTERS   SOMETIMES 
ATTRIBUTED   TO    DANTE. 

IT  will  be  within  the  knowledge  of  all  students  of  Dante  that  about 
twenty-four  or  thirty  years  ago  there  broke  out  a  kind  of  epidemic  of 
scepticism  in  regard  to  his  works,  and  also  (as  we  might  add)  to  the 
authorship  of  many  of  the  Books  of  the  New  Testament.  It  became  a 
kind  of  fashion1  to  raise  ingenious  critical  objections  which  often  repre- 
sented merely  subjective  impressions  of  the  writer  dogmatically  pro- 
pounded. These  being  often  as  incapable  of  formal  refutation  as  of 
formal  proof,  were  claimed  by  their  authors  to  be  unanswered  and  there- 
fore unanswerable.  It  is  quite  notorious  that  the  tide  has  turned  in 
the  field  of  theological  criticism,  but  of  that  we  have  nothing  more  to 
say  now.  It  has  also  turned  very  remarkably  in  respect  of  the  works 
of  Dante.  It  is  not  surprising  that  such  negative  criticisms  as  those  of 
Dr  Prompt  now  only  provoke  a  smile,  when  we  find  him  boldly  enu- 
merating not  only  the  Quaestio  and  the  Epistles,  but  even  the  De 
Monarchia  among  'Les  ceuvres  apocryphes  de  Dante/  and  describing  the 
author  of  the  last  named  work  as  '  the  personage  who  composed  this 
barbarous  and  abominable  book,'  So  again  a  certain  Canonico  Moreni 
is  quoted  as  rejecting,  in  addition  to  all  the  works  above  mentioned, 
also  the  De  Vidgari  Eloquentia,  as  'stuff  (roba)  written  in  a  bar- 
barous style,  and  including  words  not  even  found  in  Ducange  ' !  It  is 
difficult  now  to  imagine  how  such  criticisms  could  ever  have  been 
taken  seriously.  They  are  scornfully,  but  aptly,  described  by  Novati  as 
'  incredulita  aprioristica,  e  scetticismo  elevato  a  sistema.' 

But  in  regard  to  the  genuineness  of  the  Epistles  there  are  some 
special  considerations  to  be  borne  in  mind  and  admitted.  It  must  not> 
be  forgotten  that  the  external  evidence  for  the  minor  works  of  an 
author  of  distant  date,  especially  those  of  a  local,  personal  or  ephemeral 
interest,  such  as  his  letters,  is  liable  to  be  slender,  and  often  can 
scarcely  be  otherwise.  Thus  the  field  is  left  open  for  the  display  of 

1  It  has  been  well  characterized  by  a  recent  writer  as  « quell'  andazzo  di  una  ventina  di 
anni  fa.' 


174     The  'Battifolle*  Letters  sometimes  attributed  to  Dante 

literary  and  critical  ingenuity  on  grounds  of  internal  evidence.  It  is  a 
very  cheap  and  easy  exercise.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to  imagine  any 
process  of  argumentation  more  perilous  and  untrustworthy,  unless  it  be 
the  much  abused  '  argument  urn  e  silentio,'  which  is  indeed  but  one 
familiar  form  of  it.  At  the  period  to  which  I  am  referring,  the  defence 
of  all  but  three  of  the  Epistles  commonly  ascribed  to  Dante  was  very 
generally  abandoned.  This  wholesale  '  slaughter  of  the  innocents '  was 
confidently  insisted  on  as  altogether  necessary  by  (among  others)  Bartoli 
and  Scartazzini.  A  reservation  was  indeed  generally  made  in  favour 
of  Epistles  vi,  vn,  and  vm,  on  the  ground  that  they  were  attested  by 
Villani.  But  even  here  Scartazzini  saw  a  possible  way  of  escape  by 
suggesting  that  the  mention  by  Villani  may  have  itself  prompted  the 
ingenuity  of  a  forger  to  compose  those  which  have  come  down  to  us, 
the  original  letters  known  to  Villani,  together  with  others  that  he 
mentions,  having  probably  been  lost ! 

The  total  number  of  letters  attributed  at  one  time  or  another  to 
Dante  is  fourteen.  One  of  these,  written  in  Italian,  and  professing  to 
be  addressed  to  Guido  da  Polenta,  is  still,  I  believe,  universally  rejected. 
But  there  would  probably  be  no  strong  protest  raised  now  against 
admitting  as  many  as  ten  to  be  at  least  within  the  possibility,  not  to 
say  probability,  of  genuineness.  In  some  cases  there  is  indeed  little  or 
no  evidence  beyond  a  vague  prevalent  tradition ;  yet  on  the  other  hand 
positive  adverse  evidence  on  internal  grounds  is  in  no  case  strong 
enough  to  justify  the  unqualified  rejection  of  any  of  them. 

We  may  be  content  to  admit  them  at  any  rate  as  dvriXeyo^eva, 
remembering  that  that  term  when  applied  to  several  Books  of  the  New 
Testament  did  not  involve  their  exclusion  from  the  Canon. 

There  remain  then  the  three  so-called  *  Battifolle '  letters,  which 
have  generally  been  rejected  unhesitatingly.  But  when  we  find  so 
distinguished  a  Dante  scholar  as  Prof.  Novati  demanding  a  recon- 
sideration of  the  question,  we  can  scarcely  regard  it  as  finally  closed. 
It  should  also  be  noticed  that  the  probable  genuineness  of  these  letters 
was  vigorously  maintained  by  Corrado  Ricci  in  his  elaborate  work 
'  Ultimo  Rifugio  di  Dante,  published  as  long  ago  as  1891  (pp.  17,  18). 
have  lately  found  that  earlier  still,  in  1882,  Scheffer-Boichorst 
expressed  a  very  strong  opinion  in  favour  of  the  Dantesque  authorship 
of  these  letters,  'ich  muss  mich  durchaus  fur  Dantes  Autorschaft 
erklaren.'  He  even  goes  so  far  as  to  say  '  sowohl  Sprache  wie  Gedanken 
lassen  mir  keinen  Zweifel1.' 

1  Zeitschrift  fur  romanische  Philologie,  vi  (1382),  p.  645. 


E.    MOORE  175 

At  the  same  time  they  have  been  so  almost  universally  rejected  by 
editors  of  Dante's  works  that  they  are  rather  difficult  of  access.  They 
have  been  very  rarely  printed :  only  so  far  as  I  know  by  Torri  in  1842 
(a  work  now  out  of  print  and  very  difficult  to  obtain),  and  by  Giuliani 
in  1882.  We  have  now,  however,  the  advantage  of  a  critical  text 
published  by  Dr  Toynbee,  but  this  is  at  present  only  to  be  found  in 
The  Modern  Language  Review  for  January  19121.  But  it  appears 
necessary  to  reprint  the  Letters  here,  since  the  discussion  which  follows 
would  be  quite  unintelligible  to  any  readers  without  the  actual  text 
before  them.  The  following  is  Dr  Toynbee's  critical  text,  with  the 
orthography  of  the  MS.  modernized,  and  punctuation  supplied,  as  is 
usual  in  the  printed  editions  of  Dante's  Epistles  and  other  vLatin 
works. 

LETTER  I. 

Gloriosissimae  atque  clementissiniae  dominae,  dominae  .M.,  divina  pro- 
videntia  Romanorum  Reginae  et  semper  Augustae,  .G.  de  Battifolle  Dei  et 
adiuvalis  magnificentiae  gratia  Cornitissa  in  Tuscia  Palatina  tarn  debitae 
quam  devotae  subiectionis  officium  ante  pedes. 

Gratissima  regiae  benignitatis  epistola  et  ineis  oculis  visa  laetanter  et 
manibus  fuit  assunapta  reverenter  ut  decuit.  Cumque  significata  per  illam 
mentis  aciem  penetrando  dulcescerent,  adeo  spiritus  lectitantis  fervore  devo- 
tionis  incaluit,  ut  numquam  possint  superare  oblivia,  nee  memoria  sine  gaudio 
5  memorare.  Nam  quanta  vel  qualis  ego  ?  Ad  enarrandum  mihi  de  sospitate 
consortis  et  sua  (utinam  diuturna)  conjunx  fortissirna  Caesaris  condescendat  ? 
Quippe  tanti  pondus  honoris  neque2  merita  gratulantis  neque  dignitas  postula- 
bat.  Sed  nee  etiam  inclinari  humanorum  in  graduum  dedecuit  apiceni,  unde 
velut  a  vivo  fonte  sanctae  civilitatis  exernpla  debent  iriferioribus  emanare. 

10  Dignas  itaque  persolvere  grates  non  opis  est  horninis,  verum  ab  homine 
aiienum  esse  non  reor  pro  insuftieientiae  supplemento  Deum  exorare  quando- 
que.  Nunc  ideo  regni  siderii  justis  precibus  atque  piis  aula  pulsetur,  et  im- 
petret  supplicantis  aftectus  quatenus  mundi  gubernator  aeternus  condescensui 
tan  to  praemia  coaequata  retribuat,  et  ad  auspitia  Caesaris  et  Augustae  dexteram 

15  gratiae  coadiutricis  extendat,  ut  qui  Romani  Principatus  imperio  barbaras 
nationes  et  cives  in  mortalium  tutamenta  subegit,  delirantis  aevi  familiani 
sub  triumphis  et  gloria  sui  Henrici  reformet  in  melius. 

LETTER  2. 

Serenissimae  atque  piissimae  doininae,  dominae  .M.,  coelestis  misera- 
tionis  intuitu  Romanorum  Reginae  et  semper  Augustae  devotissima  sua 
.G.  de  Battifolle  Dei  et  Imperii  gratia  largiente  Comitissa  in  Tuscia  Palatina 
flexis  humiliter  genibus  reverentiae  debitum  exhibere. 

Regalis  epistolae  documenta  gratuita  ea  qua  potui  veneratione  recepi, 
intellexi  devote.  Sed  cum  de  prosperitate  successuum  vestri  felicissimi  cursus 
familiariter  intimata  concepi,  quanto  liberis  animus  concipientis  arriserit, 
placet  potius  comrnendare  silentio  tamquam  nuntio  meliori:  non  enim  verba 
")  significando  sufficiunt  ubi  mens  ipsa  quasi  debria  superatur.  Itaque  suppleat 
regiae  celsitudinis  apprehensio  quae  scribentis  humilitas  explicare  non  potest. 
At  quamvis  insinuata  per  literas  ineffabiliter  grata  fuerint  et  iucunda,  spes 
amplior  tamen  et  laetandi  causas  accumulat,  et  simul  vota  iusta  confectat. 

1  Modern  Language  Revieic,  vn,  pp.  19-24.  '2  MS.  atque. 


176     The  'Battifolle'  Letters  sometimes  attributed  to  Dante 

Spero   equidem,  de  coelesti   provisione   confidens,  quam   numquam    falli  vel 

10     praepediri  posse  non  dubito,  et  quae  hurnariae  civilitati  de  principe  singular! 

providit,    quod    exordia    vestri    regni    felicia    semper    in    melius    prosperata 

precedent.    Sic  igitur  in  praesentibus  et  futuris  exultans  de  Augustae  dementia 

sine  ulla  haesitatiorie  recurro,  et  suppliciter  tempestiva  deposco,  quatenus  me 

sub  umbra  tutissima  vestri  culminis  taliter  collocare  dignemini  ut  cuiusque 

15     sinistrationis  ab  aestu  sin]  semper  et  videar  esse  secura. 

LETTER  3. 

Illustrissimae  atque  piissirnae  dominae,  dominae  Margaritae,  divina  provi- 
dentia  Romanorum  Reginae  ct  semper  Augustae  fidelissima.  sua  .G.  de  Battifolle 
Dei  et  imperialis  indulgentiae  gratia  Comitissa  in  Tuscia  Palatina  cum  promp- 
tissima  recommendatione  se  ipsarn  et  volimtarium  ad  obsequia  famulatum. 

Cum  pagina  vestrae  serenitatis  apparuit  ante  scribentis  et  gratulantis 
aspectum,  experta  est  mea  pura  fidelitas  quam  in  dominorum  successibus  tarn1 
subditorum  fidelium  collaetentur.  Nam  per  ea  quae  continebantur  in  ipsa,  cum 
tota  cordis  hilaritate  concepi  qualiter  dextera  summi  regis  vota  Caesaris  et 
5  Augustae  feliciter  adimplebat.  Proinde  gradum  meae  fidelitatis  experta  petentis 
audeo  iam  inire  officiurn.  Ergo  ad  audientiarn  vestrae  sublimitatis  exorans  et 
suppliciter  precor  et  devote  deposco  quatenus  mentis  oculis  intueri  dignemini 
praelibatae  interdum  fidei  puritatem.  Verum  quia  nonnulla  regalium  clausura- 
rum  videbatur  hortari  ut,  si  quando  nuntiorum  facultas  adesset,  celsitudini  regiae 

10  aliquid  peroptando  de  status  mei  condition  e  referrem,  quam  vis  quaedam 
praesumptionis  facies  interdicat  obedientiae,  tamen  suadente  virtute  obediam. 
Audiat  ex  quo  iubet  Romanorum  pia  et  serena  maiestas  quoniam  tempore 
missionis  presentium  coniunx  praedilectus  et  ego,  Dei  dono,  vigebamus  in- 
columes,  liberorum  sospitate  gaudentes,  tanto  solito  laetiores  quanto  signa 

15     resurgentis  imperii  meliora  iam  saecula  promittebant. 

Missum  de  castro  Poppii  xv.  Kalendas  lunias  faustissimi  cursus  Henrici 
Caesaris  ad  Italiam  anno  primo. 

The  problem  of  these  three  '  Battifolle '  letters  is  quite  different 
from  that  of  the  others.  The  evidence  for  them  is  extremely  slender. 
It  really  amounts  only  to  this,  that  they  are  found  in  a  single  MS. 
(Vat.  Palat.,  1729),  which  contains  six  of  the  commonly  received  Epistles 
of  Dante,  in  the  midst  of  which,  not  after  or  before  them,  these  three 
'  Battifolle '  Letters  are  found  embedded.  The  MS.  is  a  fairly  early  one, 
dated  1394,  and  so  just  within  the  limits  of  the  fourteenth  century,  and 
only  about  seventy  years  after  Dante's  death2.  The  nine  Epistles  or  Letters 
occur  in  the  MS.  in  the  following  order:  (1)  Epist.  vu  (to  Henry  VII); 
(2)  Epist.  VI  ('  Scelestissimis  Florentinis  intrinsecus ') ;  (3)  (4)  (5)  the 
three  Battifolle  Letters;  then  the  four  Epistles  usually  numbered  II,  in, 

1  There  is  evidently  some  corruption  here.     It  looks  as  if  a  short-sighted  copyist, 
mistaking  the  meaning  of  quam,  thought  to  emphasize  the  antithesis  of  dominorum  and 
subditorum  by  inserting  tarn.     Somehow  the  subject  of  collaetentur  seems  to  have  dropped 
out.     Pectora,  corda  and  animi  have  been  suggested  e  conj.,  but  none  of  them  seem  to 
have  any  relation  to  td. 

2  The  whole  contents  of  the  MS.  are  as  follows  (auct.  Witte,  de  Monarchia,  p.  Iviii. 
See  also  Dante-Forschungen  i,  p.  474): 

(1)  Twelve  Eclogues  of  Petrarch. 

(2)  De  Momrchia. 

(3)  Nine  Epistles  attributed  to  Dante.     . 

I 


E.    MOORE  177 

I  and  V,  in  this  order.  Now  observe  (a)  the  three  Letters  in  question 
are  introduced  without  note  or  comment,  but  from  the  position  they 
occupy,  and  the  company  in  which  they  occur,  the  copyist  evidently 
had  no  doubt  they  were  to  be  attributed  to  Dante.  (6)  There  is 
nothing  in  any  of  the  letters  to  suggest  any  connexion  with  Dante  as 
their  author,  or  any  relation  to  anything  in  his  life  or  history,  (c)  Further 
than  this,  the  writer  of  the  letters  distinctly  professes  to  be  some  one 
else.  They 'are  written  in  the  name  of  the  Countess  Gherardesca  di 
Battifolle,  not  Catarina,  as  printed  by  Giuliani,  since  the  initial  letter, 
which  alone  is  found  in  the  MS.,  is  clearly  a  G.  (There  were  two  Counts 
Guido  di  Battifolle,  the  wife  of  one  was  Gherardesca,  and  the  wife 
of  the  other  Catarina1.)  The  letters*  are  addressed  to  Margherita  di 
Brabante,  the  wife  of  the  Emperor  Henry  VII. 

All  this  makes  the  insertion  of  these  letters  in  the  MS.,  without  note 
or  comment,  in  the  middle  of  six  others  indubitably  presented  as 
written  by  Dante,  very  surprising.  How  came  this  about  in  the  teeth 
of  such  very  strong  prima  facie  evidence  to  the  contrary  presented  by 
the  letters  themselves  ?  It  seems  only  accountable  on  the  supposition 
of  the  existence  of  a  strong  backing  of  tradition,  though  we  have  no 
other  trace  of  this.  Indeed,  the  greater  and  more  obvious  the  prima  facie 
difficulties,  such  as  we  have  already  pointed  out,  the  stronger  is  the 
case  for  the  existence  of  such  a  tradition  to  overbear  them.  Its  exist- 
ence must  be  presupposed  as  has  been  that  of  an  unknown  and  invisible 
planet  to  account  for  some  otherwise  unexplained  action  of  other  visible 
bodies.  This  consideration  at  least  contributes  something  to  reinforce 
the  scanty  evidence  otherwise  adducible  for  these  Letters.  For,  after 
all,  any  tradition,  however  weak,  is  an  asset  to  be  reckoned  with,  as  far  as 
it  goes.  It  is  not  to  be  summarily  dismissed  as  worthless  without  some 
reason  appearing  against  it  beyond  its  weakness.  It  at  least  holds  the  field 
till  it  is  overthrown.  Tradition  is  not  itself  a  zero,  or  still  less  a  minus 
quantity,  as  would  seem  to  be  assumed  by  the  practice  of  some  critics, 
which  has  been  thus  characterised  by  Bishop  Creighton: — 'We  have  been 
taught  (he  says)  by  a  long  series  of  sceptical  inquiries  to  take  almost 
for  granted  that  if  according  to  an  ancient  tradition  a  famous  event 
happened  in  some  particular  spot,  it  must  really  have  happened  some- 
where else ;  unless,  indeed,  it  never  happened  at  all.' 

The  problem  presented  by  these  letters  then  is  a  very  peculiar  one, 
and  indeed  unique  in  another  way.  There  is  no  question  of  deliberate 
forgery,  for  they  do  not  claim  or  pretend  to  be  written  by  Dante.  The 

1  Kicci,  Ultimo  Rifugio,  p.  17. 
M.   L.   R.   IX.  12 


178     The  'Battifolle '  Letters  sometimes  attributed  to  Dante 

circumstances  under  which  they  were  written  by  him  (if  at  all)  are  thus 
explained.  In  the  spring  of  1*311  Dante  was  in  Tuscany,  following  with 
eager  anxiety  the  progress  of  Henry  VII  in  Italy.  That,  at  any  rate, 
is  certain.  Also,  more  definitely,  that  he  was  in  the  Casentino  is 
proved  by  the  colophons  to  his  Epistles  VI  and  vn,  both  of  which  are 
stated  to  have  been  written  '  sub  fonte  Sarni '  in  March  and  April  of 
that  year.  That  he  was  there  definitely  as  a  guest  of  a  branch  of  the 
Battifolle  family,  is  also  assigned  to  tradition  by  some  writers1.  But 
I  have  not  been  able  to  trace  the  'existence  of  such  a  tradition 
independently  of  these  letters.  His  probable  hostess,  the  Countess 
Gherardesca  di  Battifolle,  having  the  privilege  of  writing  on  friendly 
terms  concerning  her  family  affairs  to  the  Empress,  naturally  desired 
that  her  communications  with  so  exalted  a  personage  should  be  couched 
in  the  most  respectful  and  formally  correct  terms.  She  is  thought- 
therefore  to  have  availed  herself  of  the  help  of  her  distinguished  guest 
in  the  composition  of  these  letters.  Some  writers  have  sneered  at  the 
idea  of  Dante  acting  as  'secretary'  to  this  lady,  as  though  it  were 
altogether  infra  dignitatem  for  so  great  a  man ;  as  if  he  were  to  be 
imagined  as  a  sort  of  Hercules  spinning  wool  for  Omphale.  But  to 
him  the  task  of  writing  these  letters  would  be  no  piece  of  literary 
drudgery,  but  rather  a  congenial  work,  as  bringing  him  into  some  kind 
of  relation  with  the  great  Emperor,  for  whom  his  adoration  was  so 
profound,  that,  as  we  know,  he  addresses  him  in  language  that  we  can 
scarcely  conceive  to  have  been  applied  to  any  merely  human  being 
without  profanity  (see  Epp.  v,  VI,  vn).  We  may  also  be  allowed  to 
suppose  that  the  good  Countess  would  not  be  so  familiar  with  Latin 
composition  (which  was  naturally  to  be  employed  in  a  letter  to  such 
high  quarters)  as  to  be  indifferent  to  such  a  unique  opportunity  of 
getting  the  work  executed  in  the  best  possible  style.  We  remember 
how  in  the  Vita  Nuova,  §  25,  11.  45  seqq.,  Dante  attributes  the  habit  of 
writing  love  poetry  in  the  Volgare  instead  of  Latin — a  practice  (he  adds) 
not  yet  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  old — to  the  consideration  that  the 
language  had  to  be  intelligible  'a  donna,  alia  quale  era  malagevole  ad 
intendere  i  versi  Latini.'  Besides  it  was  not  only  a  question  of  writing 
in  Latin,  but  also  in  the  courtly  language  and  style  required  in 
addressing  royalty.  There  would  probably  be,  in  the  quaint  language 
of  Bishop  Latimer,  '  a  plentiful  lack  '  of  any  such  '  ready  writers '  in  the 
recesses  of  the  Casentino.  For  in  the  language  of  Dante  : 
Noii  era  impresa  da  pigliare  a  gabbo. 
1  E.g.,  Witte,  Dante-Forschungen,  i,  p.  487. 


E.    MOORE  179 

The  question  now  arises  whether  there  is  anything  in  the  internal 
evidence  of  the  letters  themselves  either  favourable  or  adverse  to  the 
tradition  of  their  Dantesque  authorship. 

It  is  obvious  to  remark  at  once  that  if  these  letters  were  composed 
in  the  manner  and  under  the  conditions  already  described,  we  cannot 
expect  much  help  from  internal  evidence  either  favourable  or  adverse. 
Let  us  take  first  the  considerations  commonly  urged  as  adverse. 

In  regard  to  general  objections  such  as  these,  viz.  (a)  that  there  is 
nothing  to  connect  these  letters  as  they  stand  with  Dante  in  any  way 
whatever ;  and  (6)  further,  that  they  definitely  profess  to  be  written  by 
some  one  else,  we  may  point  out  that  the  former  objection  would  apply 
precisely  to  the  three  Epistles  numbered  I,  II  and  ill ;  and  indefed  both 
would  apply  to  Epistle  i,  which  is  addressed  to  the  Cardinal  Nicholas  of 
Ostia  in  the  names  of  Alexander,  the  '  Captain,'  and  the  Council  and 
general  body  of  the  party  of  the  Bianchi  at  Florence. 

But  more  definitely  it  is  urged : 

(1)  That  the  style  is  pompous  and  fulsome  and  the  expressions  of 
the  writer  almost  grovelling  in  their  humility.     But  in  regard  to  this 
and  all  similar  objections  it  is  obvious  to  reply  that  Dante  here  is  not 
supposed  to  be  speaking  for  himself,  but  writing  '  to  order,'  and  ex- 
pressing 'by  desire'  the  feelings  and  sentiments  of  another.     Further 
that  he  is  bound  (as  we  said)  to  adopt  the  conventional  and  artificial 
language  of  a  courtly  document.     But  it  is  not  uninteresting  to  observe 
that  the  same  criticism  has  been  urged  with  a  view  to  the  rejection  of 
Epistle  x.     There  Dante  is  confessedly  speaking  in  his  own  name  and 
describing  his  own  feelings  towards  his  patron  Can  Grande.     Now  Can 
Grande  with  all  his  greatness,  and  however  highly  Dante  estimated 
both  his  public  services  and  his  private  friendship,  stood  on  a  much 
lower  level  than  the  Emperor  and  his  Court.     Yet  there  is  not  much  to 
choose  between  the  humble  language  of  these  letters  and  that  of  the 
first  four  sections  (the  dedicatory  portion)  of  Epistle  x.     Courtly  lan- 
guage is  as  artificial  and  conventional  as  that  of  literary  dedications, 
so  that  we  might  take  refuge,  if  necessary,  in  the  defence  made  by  Dr 
Johnson  of  the  recognised  style  of  dedications — '  Sir,  the  known  style 
of  a  dedication  is  flattery,  it  professes  to  flatter.' 

(2)  It  is  objected  that  the  occasion  and  contents  of  the  letter  are 
altogether  trivial  and  commonplace  and  unworthy  of  the  pen  of  Dante. 
The  same  answer  as  before  might  suffice  for  this  too,  but  as  the  objec- 
tion has  also  been  urged  with  more  force  against  others  of  the  Epistles 
purporting  to  be  written  by  Dante,  and    in  his  own  name  (notably 

12—2 


180     The  'Battifolle'  Letters  sometimes  attributed  to  Dante 

No.  in,  that  addressed  to  Moroello  Malaspina)  one  may  say  a  few  more 
words  about  it. 

There  must  be  large  tracts  of  commonplace  in  the  most  exalted 
lives  in  all  the  paths  and  positions  of  life,  even  for  the  greatest  names 
in  politics,  religion,  literature.  Sydney  Smith  once  made  the  calcu- 
lation of  the  months  or  years  occupied  in  any  life  of  about  seventy 
years  in  sleeping,  dressing,  eating,  walking,  gossiping,  and  even,  as  he 
added,  in  his  own  case,  shaving.  It  is  curious  to  find  this  argument 
from  triviality  or  commonplace  in  details  urged  in  early  Christian  ages 
(and  noted,  though  of  course  not  accepted,  by  St  Jerome)  against  the 
admission  to  the  Canon  of  the  second  and  third  Epistles  of  St  John  and 
the  Epistle  to  Philemon.  Also  some  passages  in  the  Pastoral  Epistles 
were  subjected  to  a  similar  censure  ;  such  as  'Prepare  for  me  a  lodging' 
— '  Bring  the  cloak  which  I  left  at  Troas ' — or  again, '  Use  a  little  wine 
for  thy  stomach's  sake,'  etc.  Nor,  in  the  last  mentioned  instance,  is 
the  difficulty  removed,  perhaps  it  is  even  increased,  if  the  teetotal 
lecturer's  exegesis  be  accepted,  that  the  word  'use'  implies  that  it  was 
to  be  limited  to  '  external  application  only ' !  We  may  readily  then 
grant  that  even  in  his  own  ordinary  correspondence  and  familiar  inter- 
course with  friends  Dante  could  not  be  expected  (or  desired)  to  have 
maintained  the  Divina  Commedia  level  of  style,  or  what  we  might 
perhaps  call  the  '  Ercles'  vein.'  Indeed  the  context  of  that  expression 
contemplates  the  possibility  of  even  the  lion  '  roaring  like  a  sucking 
dove.' 

Still  (3)  it  is  somewhat  absurdly  asked,  why  or  how  should  such 
trivialities  have  been  preserved  ?  The  obvious  answer  is,  By  pure  and 
blind  chance.  We  are  all  familiar  with  the  survival  of  scraps  of  what 
we  call  utter  rubbish  among  our  possessions,  just  as  we  know  only  too 
well  the  capricious  freaks  of  our  memory  both  in  '  what  it  takes  away, 
and  what  it  leaves  behind.'  We  know  too  how  some  of  '  the  treasures 
of  Egypt '  consist  of  ocrrpatca,  whose  interest  both  for  their  writers  and 
recipients  was  so  transient  that  they  were  deliberately  thrown  away. 
Yet  after  2000  years  and  more  they  have  an  interest  which  has  no 
relation  to  their  intrinsic  value  at  any  time. 

There  is  unhappily  no  '  Natural  Selection '  or  '  Survival  of  the 
Fittest '  to  be  looked  for  in  regard  to  the  letters  of  Dante.  There  was 
never  any  attempt  at  collecting  or  editing,  much  less  at  selecting  from, 
his  correspondence,  which  on  the  authority  of  his  biographers  was  some- 
what copious.  Boccaccio  states  that  several  of  his  letters  were  still 
extant,  and  Lionardo  Bruni,  who  died  in  1444  (as  much  as  fifty  years 


E.    MOORE  181 

later  than  the  date  of  this  MS.),  says  he  had  seen  several  autograph 
letters  of  Dante  and  he  describes  minutely  the  character  of  his  hand- 
writing. It  is  quite  likely  that,  among  so  many,  gome  of  little  value  or 
interest  should  have  chanced  to  survive.  It  must  be  confessed  that  in 
some  modern  biographies  of  great  men  letters  are  published,  even  after 
the  power  of  selection  has  been,  or  may  be  supposed  to  have  been, 
exercised,  where  a  similar  estimate  of  the  value  of  their  contents  might 
incline  the  enlightened  critics  of  future  generations  to  dispute  their 
genuineness. 

The  contents  of  the  MS.  in  which  these  letters  are  found  appear  to 
be  the  nearest  approach  to  a  '  collection '  of  Dante's  correspondence 
extant.  The  copyist  seems  to  have  had  access  to  a  packet  or  bundle  of 
letters  attributed  to  Dante,  for  there  are  gathered  here  as  many  as 
nine.  No  other  MS.  existing  has  more  than  three,  viz.  one  in  the 
Laurentian  Library  (marked  xxix,  8)  which  contains  those  numbered 
iv,  VIIT,  and  ix,  none  of  them  corresponding  with  any  in  this  Vatican 
MS.  or  indeed  in  any  other  existing  MS.  There  is  happily  a  prospect 
of  this  Laurentian  MS.  being  published  in  a  photographic  facsimile 
very  shortly,  but  only  in  fifty  copies.  It  has  been  proved  to  be  in 
the  handwriting  of  Boccaccio,  and  the  reproduction  now  promised  is  in 
honour  of  the  sixth  centenary  of  his  birth,  which  occurred  in  the  year 
1913. 

To  return  now  to  the  question  of  internal  evidence.  Here  again  we 
cannot  expect  much  help  if  we  seek  for  positive  traces  of  Dante's  style, 
though  I  think  we  may  confidently  say  that  it  yields  no  adverse 
evidence  of  any  relevancy.  The  'native  hue'  of  Dante's  writing  is 
disguised  by  the  admittedly  conventional  style  (as  we  have  noted 
already)  of  complimentary  and  official  Court  language,  the  adoption  of 
which  was  almost  as  much  de  rigueur  as  the  technicalities  in  the  com- 
position of  a  legal  document.  We  can  scarcely  imagine  even  a  Ruskin 
betraying  the  characteristic  richness  of  his  style  in  drafting  a  lease  or  a 
legal  bond.  But  there  are  some  small  touches  even  here  in  which  we 
may  perhaps  detect  echoes  of  Dante's  language,  just  as  even  in  a 
purposely  disguised  handwriting  some  peculiarities  of  the  writer  often 
betray  themselves.  And  at  any  rate  there  are,  I  think,  at  least  three 
arguments  of  a  somewhat  substantial  character :  (1)  from  the  titles  of 
the  three  Letters ;  (2)  from  the  colophon  of  the  third  Letter ;  (3)  from 
a  clear  reminiscence  of  a  passage  of  Virgil  in  the  first  Letter. 

I  would  first  notice  that  for  some  unexplained,  and  to  me  unin- 
telligible, reason  Torri  (who  is  followed  by  Giuliani)  alters  the  order  of 


182     The  'Sattifolle'  Letters  sometimes  attributed  to  Dante 

the  Epistles  as  found  in  the  MS.,  the  only  MS.,  it  will  be  remembered, 
in  which  they  have  been  preserved.  Instead  of  the  MS.  order  1,  2,  3, 
they  are  printed  in  the  order  3,  1,  2.  They  have  been  given  above 
(pp.  175,  176)  in  the  order  in  which  they  occur  in  the  MS. 

(1)  It  should  be  observed  that  in  the  case  of  all  the  Epistles  of 
Dante   the  titles   are   of  two  kinds.      First,    those  which  are  in  the 
language  of  the  author  of  the  Epistle  itself,  and  secondly  those  which 
are  obviously  prefixed  by  the  scribe.     The  former  have  an  authority 
equal  to  that  of  the  letter  to  which  they  are  attached :  the  latter  have 
none,  any  more   than   the  subscriptions   to   some   of  the  Epistles   of 
St  Paul. 

The  titles  to  the  three  letters  before  us  belong  to  the  former  class, 
and  so  also  do  those  which  introduce  the  following  among  the  Epistles 
as  usually  printed : — Nos.  I,  IV,  v,  VI,  VII,  and  x.  But  Nos.  II  and  III 
clearly  belong  to  the  latter.  Epistle  VII  is  preserved  in  three  MSS.1,  of 
which  two  have  the  author's  title,  and  the  third,  viz.  this  Palatine  MS., 
only  a  scribe's  title.  Now  let  us  refer  to  the  title  of  the  first  Letter. 
It  ends  with  the  words  '  officium  ante  pedes,'  without  any  verb.  The 
omission  of  a  main  verb  in  such  epistolary  formulae  is  extremely  com- 
mon. (It  occurs  for  instance  in  the  three  Pastoral  Epistles  in  the  New 
Testament.)  We  find  such  an  omission  in  all  the  titles  of  the  three 
Letters  now  before  us.  So  it  is  again  in  the  title  of  Epistle  IV  of  the 
Oxford  Dante,  and  in  fact  also  in  that  of  Epistle  vn,  when  the  reading 
of  the  two  MSS.  in  which  that  Epistle  occurs  is  restored,  as  it  should  be, 
viz.  '  osculum  ante  pedes,'  instead  of  the  arbitrary  alteration  of  editors, 
'  osculantur  ante  pedes.'  But  further,  with  this  corrected  reading,  we 
have  a  very  close  parallel  to  the  title  of  this  first  Battifolle  Letter. 
In  Epistle  vn  we  have  '  osculum  ante  pedes,'  in  this  Letter  '  officium 
ante  pedes.'  Reasons  may  easily  be  suggested  for  the  variation  'officium' 
in  this  very  humble  and  dutiful  address  of  the  Countess.  Also  osculum 
in  the  other  case  corresponds  with  11.  42,  43  in  the  body  of  that  Epistle. 

(2)  Next  as  to  the  colophon  attached  to  the  last  of  these  three 
letters. 

We  have  already  referred  to  the  colophons  of  Epistles  VI  and  VII  as 
evidence  of  the  presence  of  Dante  in  the  Casentino  at  this  date.  They 
are  dated  March  31  and  April  17  respectively2.  Now  the  third  of  the 

1  Viz.   'Vat.  Palat.  1729,'  Borne;  'Pantaleo,'  Bibl.  Vitt.  Em.,  Kome;  '  Marciana,  Cl. 
Lat.  xiv  Cod.  115,'  Venice. 

2  In  the  case  of  Ep.  vn  this  MS.  (Palat.)  has  no  colophon.     Codd.  Ven.  and  Pant, 
have  distinctly  xv  (and  not  xiv)  for  the  day  of  month,  and  there  is  no  numerical  date  for 
the  year,  which  would  be  clearly  superfluous.     (Frat.  and  Giul.  have  such  a  date,  and 


E.    MOORE  183 

is  dated  May  18.  So  not  only  do  these  three  dates 
very  closely  correspond,  but  it  is  remarkable  that  the  date  of  the  year 
is  given  in  precisely  the  same  terms  in  all  these  three  cases,  viz. : 
'  faustissimi  cursus  Henrici  Caesaris  (or  divi  Henrici)  ad  Italian!  anno 
primo.'  We  may  note  that  '  felicissimus  cursus '  occurs  also  in  the  body 
of  Letter  n  sab  init.  Indeed  the  similarity  of  the  terms  of  the  colophon 
is  the  only  direct  correspondence  in  these  Battifolle  Letters  with  a 
recognised  Dantesque  formula.  Now  if  the  question  of  forgery  were 
at  issue,  such  a  marked  correspondence  would  clearly  be  liable  to  a 
suspicion,  Avhich  cannot  be  held  to  attach  to  it  when  the  motive  for 
any  such  imitation  is  entirely  absent.  But  if  Dante  were  composing  a 
letter  in  set  terms  on  behalf  of,  and  in  the  name  of,  his  hostess  the 
Countess,  it  does  seem  quite  natural  that  he  should  suggest,  instead  of 
the  prosaic  date,  the  formula  which  he  had  adopted  in  two  other  letters 
written  in  the  previous  few  weeks  by  himself.  It  was  expressed  in 
terms  relating  to  the  stirring  events  by  which  his  own  mind  and  that 
of  his  hostess  were  entirely  obsessed,  and  which  are  conspicuous  in  the 
subject-matter  of  the  letter  itself.  It  was  a  formula  that  would  appeal 
both  to  the  sender  and  receiver  of  the  letter  as  being  most  appropriate. 
The  date  is  given  as  though  it  had  relation  to  a  new  Anno  Domini, 
starting  from  the  Advent  of  him  whom  Dante  elsewhere,  with  question- 
able reverence,  greets  as  a  new  Messiah.  The  date  was  the  inauguration 
of  '  meliora  saecula,'  as  we  read  in  the  last  words  of  the  letter.  We  are 
reminded  how  with  similar  hopes  the  French  Revolutionists  in  1793 
began  to  date  their  years  from  the  inauguration  of  the  new  regime. 
Now  this  identical  formula  for  the  date  could  not  possibly  have  occurred 
to  any  other  writer,  unless  to  one  who  was  consciously  endeavouring  to 
imitate  or  personate  Dante,  of  which  there  is  no  trace  or  motive  here 
discernible. 

(3)  Another  passage  of  even  greater  weight — since  there  can  be  no 
possible  suggestion  here  of  any  deliberate  copying  of  a  definite  formula 
existing  elsewhere — is  found  in  the  first  of  these  letters  (11.  10 — 14). 
Indeed  I  may  say  that  it  was  the  occurrence  of  this  passage  that  first 
made  me  suspect  that  these  letters  might  perhaps  after  all  be  genuinely 
attributed  to  Dante.  After  describing  in  flattering  terms  the  honour 
clone  and  the  extreme  condescension  shewn  by  the  Empress  to  the 
writer  in  her  friendly  communications,  she  proceeds : — '  Dignas  itaque 
persolvere  grates  non  opis  est  hominis ;  verum  ab  homine  alienum  esse 

also  '  xiv  '  as  supra.  Witte,  who  omits  the  date  of  the  year,  reads  '  xi.')  I  have  already 
noticed  that  in  this  MS.  Ep.  vn  has  only  a  scribe's  title,  so  that  the  regular  title  and 
colophon  are  for  some  reason  both  absent  from  this  MS.  in  the  case  of  Ep.  vn. 


184     The  'Battifolle'  Letters  sometimes  attributed  to  Dante 

non  reor,  pro  insufficientiae  supplements,  Deum  exorare quatenus 

mundi  gubernator  aeternus  condescensui  tanto  praemia  coaequata  re- 
tribuat.'  Who  can  fail  to  recognize  here  the  familiar  Virgilian  passage 
in  Aen.  I,  600—605 : 

Grates  persolvere  dignas 

Non  opis  est  uostrae,  Dido,  nee  quidquid  ubique  est 
Gentis  Dardaniae,  magnum  quae  sparsa  per  orbem. 
Dl  tibi,  si  qua  pios  respectant  numina,  si  quid 
Usquam  justitia  est,  et  mens  sibi  conscia  recti, 
Praemia  digna  ferant. 

Now  we  can  scarcely  imagine  that  such  a  classical  allusion  should 
have  occurred  spontaneously  to  the  Countess.  On  the  other  hand,  we 
do  know  that  this  passage  was  very  familiar  to  Dante,  for  it  is  quoted, 
or  distinctly  recalled  by  him  in  at  least  two,  and  I  think  we  may  say 
three,  places  in  his  works.  They  are  these : 

Ep.  i,  ii,  11.  39 — 44 :  Quis  vobis  dignas  grates  persolvere  attentabit  ?  Nee  opis 
est  nostrae,  pater,  nee  quicquid  Florentinae  gentis  reperitur  in  terris:  sed'si  qua 
coelo  est  pietas  quae  talia  remunerando  prospieiat,  ilia  vobis  praemia  digna  ferat. 

This  is  quite  a  complete  and  explicit  quotation  slightly  adapted. 
Then  again  Par.  iv,  121—123  : 

Non  e  1'  affezion  mia  tanto  profonda 

Che  basti  a  render  voi  grazia  per  grazia; 
Ma  quei  che  vede  e  puote  a  cid  risponda. 

Naturally  here  the  verbatim  reproduction  is  less  precise,  but  in  both 
cases  the  twofold  divisions  of  the  original  passage  are  clearly  marked  : 
(1)  the  inadequacy  of  the  speaker's  expression  of  gratitude ;  (2)  the 
pious  wish  that  a  Higher  Power  would  supply  that  deficiency. 

But  besides  these  two  passages  we  may  notice  yet  a  third  in  which 
the  expression  '  praemia  digna '  occurs,  viz.  in  Epistle  II,  1.  8,  where 
Dante  says  of  the  lately  defunct  Alexander  Count  of  Romena,  '  super 
astra  nunc  affluenter  dignis  praemiis  muneratur  [or  remuneratur].' 

Returning  to  the  passage  in  this  first  Battifolle  Letter,  the  indirect 
reminiscence  of  the  Virgilian  passage  seems  to  me  even  more  sig- 
nificant than  a  formal  quotation.  The  writer's  mind  was  so  familiar 
with  the  words  that  his  own  thoughts  tended  spontaneously  to  express 
themselves  in  its  terms.  And  this,  as  we  have  shewn  by  other  references, 
would  certainly  be  characteristic  of  Dante.  We  may  also  perhaps  note 
that  the  other  most  explicit  reproduction  of  the  passage  occurs  in  that 
Epistle  I,  which,  just  like  the  present  letters,  has  been  traditionally 
ascribed  to  Dante  though  written  in  the  name  of  others.  Thus  there 
can  be  no  suspicion  in  either  case  of  the  quotation  possibly  serving  the 
purpose  of  a  forger. 


E.    MOORE  185 

Next  there  are  several  words  or  expressions  which  seem  to  me  to 
have  a  Dantesque  flavour,  but  I  hesitate  to  lay  too  much  stress  upon 
them  as  I  am  not  sufficiently  familiar  with  the  style  of  contemporary 
Latin  writing  to  know  whether  they  are  at  all  distinctive.  But  if  not 
distinctive,  they  are  at  least  such  as  would  be  natural  to  Dante,  as 
appears  from  their  occurrence  in  the  other  writings  attributed  to  him. 

These  at  any  rate  are  some  that  have  struck  me. 

(1)  In  the  third  of  these  letters  (1.  8)  there  is  a  word  the  meaning 
of  which  I  at  first  rendered  quite  wrongly,  and  indeed  the  Italian  trans- 
lation by  Torri  does  the  same,  viz.  'praelibatae.'     We  observe  that  at  the 
beginning  of  the  letter  the  absolute  sincerity  of  the  writer's  devotion 
to  the  Empress  is  insisted  upon ;  and  in  the  middle  of  the  letter  the 
subject  is  reintroduced  with  the  words  '  praelibatae  fidei  puritatem.' 
I  did  not  at  first  realize  that  '  praelibatae '  here  means  simply  '  afore- 
mentioned,' or  '  before  touched  upon/     Dante  so  uses  it  in  Epistle  vm, 
63  :  '  Quod  si  de  praelibato  precipitio  dubitatur' — 'If  there  is  any  doubt 
as  to  the  above-mentioned  overthrow.'     The  word  occurs  again  in  this 
sense  in  V.  E.  I,  iv,  49,  '  contra  superius  praelibata ' — '  contrary  to  what 
has  been  indicated  above' :  and  again,  in  V.  E.  u,  viii,  9,  'si  bene  com- 
miniscimur  omnia  praelibata.'     I  observe  that  Ducange  gives  '  supra- 
dictum '  as  one  meaning  of  '  praelibatum,'  with  an  example  from  some 
formal  document,  but  there  is  nothing  to  shew  whether  it  was  a  common 
usage  in  ordinary  writing.     Dante  at  any  rate  so  uses  it  three  times 
elsewhere. 

(2)  Then  again  the  word  '  Augusta '  for  the  '  Empress '  occurring 
in  all  these  three  letters.     This  may  not  perhaps  be  uncommon,  I  do 
not  know.     At  any  rate  Dante  applies  it  to  the  Virgin,  as  the  '  Regina 
Coeli '  in  Par.  xxxii,  119  : 

Per  esser  propinquissimi  ad  Augusta. 

Also  'Augustus'  is  applied  to  Henry  four  times  in  Dante's  Epistles. 
Note  especially  v,  1.  27  :  '  Henricus,  Divus  et  Augustus  et  Caesar.'  So 
here  in  the  third  of  these  letters  we  have  '  Yota  Caesaris  et  Augustae.' 

(3)  The  expression  '  mentis  oculis '  (Letter  3,  1.  7)  occurs  twice 
again  in  the  Epistles  ascribed  to  Dante,  viz.  v,  163  and  n,  30.     It  is 
also  found  in  Mon.  n,  i,  17.     So  that  it  occurs  at  any  rate  three  times 
elsewhere   in    his   reputed  works,    and   we   may  also  add,  as   similar, 
Conv.  n,  v,  117,  '  soverchia  gli  occhi  della  mente  umana,'  and  Par. 
x,  121, 

Or  se  tu  1'  occhio  della  mente  trani. 


186     The  ' Battifolle'  Letters  sometimes  attributed  to  Dante 

The  expression  perhaps  may  hardly  be  considered  distinctive,  but  at 
any  rate  it  is  thoroughly  Dantesque. 

(4)  Next,  at  the  end  of  Letter  1,  we  reac^ '  delirantis  aevi  familiam 
sub  triumphis  et  gloria  sui  Henrici  reformet  in  melius.'     Compare  with 
this  the  description  of  Henry  as  'delirantis  Hesperiae  domitorem '  in 
Epistle  vi,  1.  87. 

(5)  There    is   a   curious    expression    in    the    third    letter   (1.   8) 
where  the  writer,  referring  to  the  royal  letter  already  received,  says 
'  nonnulla  regalium  clausurarum  videbatur  hortari.'     With  this  we  may 
compare  Epistle  ix,  1.  25,  '  literae  discretius  et  consultius  clausulatae.' 

(6)  We  may  perhaps  notice  '  quanta  vel  qualis  ego '  in  the  first  of 
these  letters,  1.  5 :    for  a  similar  combination  is  found  in  Par.  ii,  65 ; 
xxiii,  92 ;  xxx,  120,  in  the  Italian,  and  in  Epistle  I,  1.  7,  and  Epistle  x, 

1.  585,  in  the  Latin  works. 

(7)  At  the  end  of  the  third   Letter   we   have   the  words   '  signa 
resurgentis  imperii  meliora  jam  saecula  prornittebant.'     Compare  with 
this  Epistle  vii,  1.  20,  *  nova  spes  Latio  saeculi  melioris  effulsit.' 

(8)  Again  we  may  note  the  phrase  '  humanae  civilitati '  in   the 
second  letter   (1.    10),  and   compare   Mon.   I,  ii,  50,    'finis   universalis 
civilitatis  humani  generis ' ;  and  again  in  the  following  Chapter,  1.  3, 
'  finis  totius  humanae  civilitatis.'     Further  not  only  the  phrase  but  also 
the    sentiment    expressed    in    this    passage    of   the   letter   resembles 
Conv.  IV,  4  init. — 'Lo  fondamento  radicale  della  Imperiale  Maesta...e  la 
necessita  della  umana  civilta.' 

(9)  The   passage  last  quoted  (from  Letter  2,  1.  10)  contains  ap- 
parently a  somewhat  strange  use  of  the  preposition  de  with  'providere' : 
'humanae  civilitati  de  principe...providit.'     We  may  compare  V.  E.  I, 

2,  1.  35,  ' Animalibus...de  locutione  non  oportuit  provideri.'     In   the 
previous  sentence  (1.  9)  we  have  another  rather  singular  combination : 
'  de  coelesti  provisione  confidens.'     The  same  construction  is  found  in 
V.  E.  n,  4,  1.  78,  'de  solo  ingenio  confidentes ';  and  in  Mon.  I,  i,  11.  36,  37, 
•'  non  tarn  de  propria  virtute  confidens  quam  de  lumine  Largitoris  illius.' 
Possibly  we  might  also  note  Mon.  in,  3,  57,  '  de  illarum  praevalentia. . . 
sperantes.' 

(10)  The  use  of  the  word  insinuare  which  we  find  in  Letter  2  (1.  7) 
in  the  sense  of  to  'set  forth'  or  'communicate'  =  €fjL<j>avi£eiv  (as  Ducange 
says),  may  possibly  be  too  common  in  medieval  Latin  to  lay  much  stress 
upon,  but  at  any  rate  Dante  thus  employs  the  word  no  less  than  three 
times  in  Epistle  x,  viz.  11.  538,  548,  577  \ 

1  See  note  on  this  word  in  Studies  in  Dante,  in,  p.  336. 


E.    MOORE 


187 


(11)  The  same  consideration  may  perhaps  have  to  be  applied  when 
quatenus  is  used  in  the  sense  of  ut,  as  it  is  in  each  one  of  these  letters, 
viz.  in  1,  1.  13;  in  2,  1.  13;  and  in  3,  1.  7.      Anyhow  Dante  so  uses  it 
elsewhere  at  least  three  times,  viz.  Epistle  I,  1.  63 ;  n,  1.  38 ;  and  De 
Man.  I,  i,  6. 

(12)  Then   in   11.    4,    5    of  Letter    2    we   have    some   thoroughly 
Dantesque  thoughts,  viz.   (a)  the  inadequacy  of  language  to  express 
thought;   and   (6)   that    this   is   because    sometimes   the   mind  is   so 
elevated  as  to  be,  as  it  were,  '  inebriated '  by  the  strain  put  upon  it. 

For  (a),  see  Par.  xxxiii,  54,  '  il  mio  veder  fu  maggio  che  il  parlar 
nostro,'  and  Epistle  x,  1.  575,  'multa  per  intellectum  videmus  quibus 
signa  vocalia  desunt.'  Add  also  Cam.  II,  1 — 18,  prefixed  to  Conv. 
Tratt.  ill  ('Amor  che  nella  mente,'  etc.) ;  and  the  commentary  on  this  in 
Chapter  iv,  11.  16 — 22  ;  especially  1.  38,  '  la  cortezza  del  nostro  parlare, 
lo  quale  dal  pensiero  e  vinto.'  The  thought  is  too  familiar  to  need 
further  references;  but  a  remarkably  close  parallel  to  the  words 
(Letter  2,  1.  4)  'placet  potius  commendare  silentio  tanquam  nuntio 
meliori '  may  be  found  in  Conv.  iv,  v,  11.  140  seqq.  in  the  apostrophe  to 
Cato  :  '  Chi  presumera  di  te  parlare  ?  Certo  maggioramente  parlare  di 
te  non  si  puo  che  tacere!  Then  Dante  goes  on  to  quote  St  Jerome's 
language  about  St  Paul,  of  whom  he  declares  '  che  meglio  e  tacere  che 
poco  dire.' 

(6)  As  to  the  metaphor  of  an  '  inebriated '  mind  (which  Dante 
probably  borrowed  from  the  Vulgate  in  Ps.  xxxv,  9),  comp.  Conv.  in, 
viii,  133,  '  quivi  s'  inebria  1'  anima.'  Add  also  Inf.  xxix,  2,  and  Par. 
xxvii,  3.  Also  ib.  1.  5  : 

Mia  ebbrezza 
Entrava  per  udire  e  per  lo  viso. 

(13)  Note  further  the  expression  '  de  principe  singulari '  in  Letter 
2,  1.  10  for  a  Universal  Monarch,  and  compare  this  with  the  title  to 
Epistle  vii,  '  Domino  singulari,  domino  Henrico.' 

(14)  Lastly,  we  might  perhaps  notice  the  phrase  'Romanus  Princi- 
patus'  in  Letter  1,  1.  15.     Compare  ' sacratissimi  Caesarei  Principatus... 
Vicarius '  in  the  title  to  Epistle  x.      '  Principatus '  is  common  in  the 
De  Mon.,  and  the  actual  expression  '  Romanus  Principatus'  occurs  there 
twice.     Also  Dante  appears  to  use  the  word  '  Principatus '  in  a  sense 
oscillating  between  the  concrete  and  abstract,  Prince  and  Princedom, 
Emperor  and  Empire.     Sometimes  too  we  find  the  abstract  term  when 
the  concrete  would  seem   more  natural,  as  distinctly  in  Parg.  x,  74, 
'  1'  alta  gloria  Del  roman  principato '  (i.e.  Trajan).     Here,  as  might  be 


188     The  'Battifolle'  Letters  sometimes  attributed  to  Dante 

expected,  the  inferior  and  slightly  supported  variants  '  Principe '  and 
'  Prince '  are  both  found  as  lectiones  faciliores.  There  seems  to  me  to 
be  a  curious  parallel  to  this  in  Cowley's  Discourse  concerning  the  Govern- 
ment of  Oliver  Cromwell,  where  the  '  strange  and  terrible  apparition ' 
visiting  him  is  made  to  announce  himself  thus:  'I  am  called  the  North- 
West  Principality,  his  Highness  the  Protector  of  the  Commonwealth  of 
England,  Scotland  and  Ireland  and  the  dominions  belonging  thereunto.' 
Ducange  does  not  mention  any  such  use  of  'Romanus  Principatus'  for 
the  Emperor  or  Empire,  nor  is  the  expression  apparently  to  be  found 
in  Classical  Latin,  though  '  principatus  alicuj  us '  (e.g.  Neronis)  for  the 
reign  of  is  natural  enough.  The  only  recognition  of  the  word  by 
Ducange  is  as  the  title  of  one  of  the  orders  of  Angels.  We  might 
perhaps,  I  think,  infer  from  this  that  the  title  '  Romanus  Principatus ' 
for  the  Emperor  or  Empire  was  not  in  ordinary  use. 

We  may  now  perhaps  sum  up  the  arguments  so  far  offered  from 
internal  evidence  under  four  heads: 

1.  The  language  of  the  titles  to  the  three  letters. 

2.  That  of  the  colophon  to  the  third  letter. 

3.  The  distinct  Virgilian  reference  in  the  first  letter.  . 

4.  The  correspondence   of  words,   expressions  and  thoughts   with 
those  occurring  in  other  works  of  Dante,  or  such  as  are  generally  attri- 
buted to  him. 

Many  of  these  last  parallels,  taken  separately,  may  seem  weak  and 
inconclusive,  but  we  can  scarcely  ignore  the  cumulative  force  derived 
from  the  occurrence  of  so  many  similarities  of  expression  within  such 
narrow  limits;  especially  if  tve  take  into  account  that  both  the  subject- 
matter  of  the  letters  and  the  conventional  character  of  the  composition, 
tend  to  throw  some  disguise  over  the  writer's  ordinary  style.  Some  of 
them,  it  is  true,  may  very  likely  be  nothing  more  than  '  terms  of  speech 
commonly  used  in  those  days.'  But  at  least  they  are  such  as  are  found 
elsewhere  in  Dante,  and  therefore  are  quite  consistent  with  his  tra- 
ditional authorship.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  I  believe  nothing  that 
can  be  pointed  out  as  inconsistent  with  it,  either  in  language  or  in 
sentiment. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  the  regular  observance  of  the  rules  of  the 
Cursus.  .For  whether  the  letters  are  genuine  or  not,  this  is  nothing 
more  than  was  to  be  expected  at  that  time.  It  is  not  a  discriminating 
test,  though  the  disregard  of  such  rules  would  have  formed  a  serious 
objection. 


E.    MOORE 


189 


It  must  be  regretfully  admitted  that  the  letters,  even  if  genuine, 
have  scarcely  any  intrinsic  value  or  interest.  They  throw  no  light  on 
Dante's  history  or  character.  But  it  is  absolutely  futile  (as  Novati 
protests)  to  argue  '  indegna  di  Dante  e  quindi  apocrifa.'  Their  main 
interest  is  that  which  attaches  to  any  personal  relic  (if  such  they  be)  of 
so  great  a  man.  And  we  know  that  some  other  relics  are  very  highly 
prized  by  those  who  are  assured  of  their  genuineness,  for  which  no 
intrinsic  value  can  be  claimed,  or  any  scientific  interest. 


E.  MOORE. 


THE  PRECINCTS, 

CANTERBURY. 


DEUX   NOMS   DE   POISSONS. 

1.     FR.  ecade,  ANGL.  shad,  etc. 

D'APRfcs  le  Nouv.  Larousse  Illustre,  ecade  est  un  nom  populaire  de 
1'alose.  Ou?  C'est  ce  qu'on  ne  nous  dit  pas.  Si  le  mot  existe  corame 
nom  populaire  de  1'alose,  c'est  sur  la  cdte  nord  de  la  France  que  j'irais 
le  chercher. 

En  effet  ecade  =  clupea  alosa  Cuv.  me  parait  clairement  venir 
d'Angleterre.  Car  je  ne  crois  pas  qu'il  faille  compter  avec  un  all.  Schad 
ou  Schade  =  clupea  alosa  Cuv.  que  Falk  et  Torp,  Norw.-Ddn.  Etym.  Wtb., 
citent,  tout  a  fait  a  tort  a  mon  avis,  a  1'article  qu'ils  ont  consacre"  au 
norv.  skate  =  raia  batis  L. ;  on  peut  se  reporter  a  Farticle  sur  1'all.  dial. 
schade  —  silurus  glanis  L.  dans  le  Deutsches  Wtb.  de  Grimm  pour  voir 
combien  minces  sont  les  indications  sur  un  all.  Schad  —  clupea  alosa  Cuv. ; 
d'ailleurs,  comme  la  clupea  alosa  Cuv.  est  un  poisson  de  mer  qui  remonte 
les  rivieres,  un  all.  Schad,  en  supposant  qu'il  ait 'existe,  serait  emprunte 
au  bas-allemand  et  c'est  dans  les  dialectes  neerlandais  ou  scandinaves 
qu'il  faudrait  chercher  le  type  primitif  auquel  serait  emprunte  un  fr. 
dial,  ecade. 

D'autre  part,  en  Angleterre,  le  mot  shad  =  clupea  alosa  Cuv.  -est 
atteste  depuis  plusieurs  siecles  et  Conrad  Gesner  des  1558  le  cite  sous 
la  forme  schade  ou  schadde ;  il  remonte  a  un  anglo-saxon  sceadd  que  je 
crois  etre  d'origine  celtique.  II  faut  le  rapprocher  de  1'irl.  scatan,  gall. 
ysgadan  '  harengs '  et  comparer  1'angl.  mother  of  herrings  =  clupea  alosa 
Cuv.  et  le  norm,  alose  de  Dieppe  =  clupea  harengus  L.  (quand  il  est  frais) 
d'apres  Holland,  Fa.  Pop.,  XI,  235.  Le  mot  shad  parait  etre  surtout 
employe  dans  la  valise  de  la  Saverne  ou  Ton  distingue  Yallis  shad 
=  clupea  alosa  Cuv.  de  la  twaite  shad  =  clupea  finta  Cuv.  Dans  le  Shrop- 
shire on  trouve  shad  salmon  'a  small  salmon  of  from  5  to  8  pounds 
weight  so  called  by  the  old  Severn  fishermen  because  they  arrived  with 
the  shad ' ;  tandis  que  dans  le  sud  du  Worcestershire  shad  salmon,  par 
confusion  sans  doute  se  dit  de  1'alose  elle-meme  (Wright,  Dial.  Diet. 


PAUL    JBARBIER    FILS 


191 


art.  shad-salmon).  De  meme,  dans  le  Shropshire,  shad-bird  =  totanus 
hypoleucus  Temminck  s'explique  par  ce  fait  que  le  chevalier  guignette 
arrive  en  meme  temps  que  1'alose  (vers  la  fin  d'avril). 

Si  Ton  quitte  la  vallee  de  la  Saverne,  a  mesure  qu'on  s'avance  vers  le 
sud-ouest,  la  forme  shad  est  remplacee  par  la  forme  scad.  Ainsi  dans  le 
West  Somerset,  d'apres  le  Dial.  Diet,  de  Wright  scad  indique  le  tout 
petit  saumon  comme  shad-salmon  dans  le  Shropshire  et  sans  aucun 
doute  pour  les  memes  raisons.  L'angl.  scad  —  trachurus  Linnaei  Malm. 
est  dans  le  New  Engl.  Diet,  avec  des  premiers  exemples  de  1602  et  1672 
qui  font  croire  que  c'est  un  mot  originaire  du  Cornwall  ou  d'ailleurs  il 
existe  encore  car  mon  beau-frere,  Mr  J.  H.  Duncan,  a  pu  me  citer  le  mot 
pour  le  village  de  Porthgwarra.  Or  ici  encore  scad  est  primitivement  un 
nom  de  la  clupea  alosa  Cuv. ;  De  la  Blanchere,  Nouv.  Diet.  des^Peches, 
p.  15,  dit  qu'on  donne  au  trachurus  Linnaei  Malm,  le  nom  d'alose  bdtarde 
et  quelquefois  de  fausse  alose  quand  il  remonte  les  fleuves  en  meme 
temps  que  la  clupea  alosa  Cuv. 

II  me  parait  done  raisonnable  de  croire  que  1'angl.  scad  =  trachurus 
Linnaei  Malm.,  originaire  du  Cornwall,  etait,  a  proprement  parler,  un 
nom  de  la  clupea  alosa  Cuv. ;  que  comme  tel  il  avait  e"  te  emprunte  aux 
pecheurs  du  Cornwall  par  les  pecheurs  de  la  Normandie  a  une.  epoque 
relativement  ancienne,  a  en  juger  par  1'etat  phone'tique  de  la  forme 
ecade.  Ecade  ferait  done  pendant  au  norm,  vra  =  genre  labrus  Cuv., 
que  j'ai  explique  comme  un  emprunt  au  cornique  wrah  (cf.  angl.  wrasse 
=  genre  labrus  Cuv.  qui  viendrait  du  dim.  corn,  wrahes)  dans  la  Revue 
des  Langues  Romanes,  LI,  406,  et  qui  sous  la  forme  vrac  est  atteste  dans 
un  texte  normand  de  1557  (Revue  d.  Lang.  Rom.,  LIT,  129). 

2.     FK.  merlus,  LAT.  mZrula,  etc. 

Dans  la  deuxieme  edition  du  Latein.  Etym.  Wtbuch  de  A.  Walde 
(1910),  mtirula  est  considere  comme  etant  probable  men t  pour  *m<tsulaet 
1'aiiteur  le  rapproche  du  gallois  mwyalch  (corn,  moelh,  bret.  moualch) 
'  merle '  et  du  v.  h.  a.  meisa  (anglosax.  mase,  v.  isl.  meisingr)  '  mesange.' 
Aucune  mention  n'est  faite  de  la  forme  masculine  merulus,  attestee 
cependant  par  Vauctor  Philomelas  et  fortement  represented  dans  les 
langues  romanes.  Or  merulus,  m%rula  pourraient  tres  bien  etre  des 
diminutifs  d'un  type  merus,  m%ra. 

Parmi  les  oiseaux  du  genre  turdus  L.,  1'espece  turdus  merula  L.  se 
distingue  si  bien  des  autres  especes  par  son  plumage  noir  qu'on  ne  la 
confond  guere  avec  elles.  Ainsi  le  nom  du  merle  ne  sert-il  jamais 
aux  grives;  de  meme,  parmi  les  noms  de  grives,  vseul  mauvis  indique 


1 92  Deux  Noms  de  Poissons 

quelquefois  le  merle  et  cela  surtout  dans  le  domaine  du  wallon,  du  rouchi, 
du  picard  (Rolland,  Fa.  Pop.,  n,  246).  Un  coup  d'ceil  donne  aux  pages 
245  et  suivantes  du  ne  volume  de  la  Faune  Populaire  de  Rolland 
montre  que  presque  tous  les  noms  des  merles  en  France  sont  des  repre- 
sentants  du  lat.  merula  ou  des  derives  de  ce  type.  Aucun  nom  du 
merle  ne  presuppose  une  forme  anterieure  a  merula. 

Les  noms  des  merles  ont  servi  a  indiquer  des  poissons.  Dans  tous 
les  cas  que  je  citerai,  c'est  la  couleur  sombre  du  dos  du  poisson  qui 
parait  avoir  servi  de  terme  de  comparaison.  On  pent  faire  le  classe- 
ment  qui  suit : 

I.  Famille  des  Gadidae  Giinther  (genres  gadus  Giinth.,  gadiculus 
Guich.,  merluccius  Giinth.).  II  s'agit  ici  du  type  *mer(u)lilceits  qui,  sous 
une  forme  tantdt  masculine  tantdt  feminine,  s'est  sans  doute  dit  d'abord 
du  merluccius  vulgaris  Fleming ;  il  s'appelle  marloz  a  Malte,  mirruzzu 
en  Sicile,  merluzzo  a  Naples,  merluzzu  a  Cagliari ;  1'ital.  merluccio, 
merluccia,  le  prov.  merlus,  merlusso,  le  fr.  merlu(s)  (voir  un  exemple  du 
fr.  merlusse  date  de  1682  dans  Rolland,  Fa.  Pap.,  n,  215),  1'esp.  merluza 
se  disent  aussi  de  ce  poisson.  Mais  les  derives  de  *meruluc$us  ont  passe 
a  la  plupart  des  poissons  des  genres  gadus  Giinth.  et  gadiculus  Guich. : 
cf.  en  Sicile  mirruzzu  impiriali  =  gadus  merlangus  L.,  mirruzzu  di  varu 
=  gadus  pollachius  L.,  mirruzzeddu  =  gadus  minutus  L.  ou  gadiculus 
argenteus  Guich.  En  Galice  melruza,  merluza  se  dit  du  gadus  aegle- 
finus  L.  Et  il  serait  facile  d'aj outer  a  ces  indications.  Dans  son  nouveau 
dictionnaire  etymologique,  M.  Meyer-Llibke,  aux  articles  5143  I'ticius  et 
5534  m&rula,  hesite  toujours  entre  (a)  maris  lucius  parfaitement  admis- 
sible au  point  de  vue  du  sens  (voir  le  catal.  lluz,  llus  =  merluccius  vul- 
garis Flem.  dans  Carus,  Prodr.,  n,  574,  et  cf.  Fall,  hecht,  meerhecht 
—  merluccius  vulgaris  Flem.)  mais  qu'il  est  a  peu  pres  impossible 
d'admettre  si  Ton  se  place  au  point  de  vue  de  la  phonetique  et  (b)  *meru- 
luceus  qui  lui  parait  difficile  au  point  de  vue  de  la  semantique.  C'est 
le  type  *m%ruluc$us  que  je  tiens  a  defendre.  On  remarquera  d'abord 
que  ce  type  est  parfaitement  admissible  d'abord  au  point  de  vue  mor- 
phologique,  puis  comme  nom  de  poisson :  cf.  le  sicil.  cavadduzzu,  Naples 
cavalluccio  =  hippocampus  guttulatus  Cuv.,  sicil.  gattuzzu  (jattuzzu), 
Naples  gattuccio,  Genes  gattusso  =  scyllium  canicula  Cuv.  ou  encore  le 
sarde  canuzzu  —  galeus  canis  Bonap.  qu'E.  Marcialis  cite  dans  son  Piccolo 
Vocabolario  Sardo-Italiano ;  dans  chacun  des  cas  cites  le  suffixe  -uceus 
est  attache  a  un  nom  d'animal,  caballus,  coitus  ou  canis.  Maintenant 
pour  la  semantique  j'ai  deja  dit  que  j'explique  1'application  de  *rn%Mu- 
tis  au  merlucius  vulgaris  Flem.  par  la  couleur  foncee  du  dos  du  poisson, 


PAUL    BARBIER    FILS  193 

et  cette  note  montrera  que  le  nom  du  merle  a  ete  donne  a  d'autres 
poissons  pour  cette  raison ;  pour  les  gades  en  particulier  et  surtout  pour 
le  merluccius  vulgaris  Flem.  c'est  pour  les  couleurs  foncees  du  dos  qu'ils 
ont  aussi  regu  les  noms  de  Fane  (cf.  mes  notes  89  asellus,  60  et  106  grelin, 
128  abadejo  dans  la  Revue  des  Lang.  Rom.,  LII,  112,  LIII,  26,  40,  Liv, 
149).  La  forme  frangaise  merluche  qui  parait  pour  la  premiere  fois  dans 
les  oeuvres  de  Madame  de  Sevigne  ne  vient  pas  de  1'ital.  merluccio 
comme  1'affirme  Fart.  5534  du  dictionnaire  de  Meyer-Lubke,  pas  meme 
de  1'ital.  merluccia  comme  je  1'avais  d'abord  pense ;  on  pourra  se  reporter 
a  mes  notes  191  bertagnin,  224  labardone  et  251  pijota  (Rev.  d.  L.  Rom., 
LVI,  176,  206,  222),  pour  voir  que  c'est  plutot  1'Italie  qui  a  emprunte 
quelques  noms  de  merluches  aux  peuples  du  nord.  Etant  do>nne  les 
relations  de  Mme  de  Sevigne  avec  la  Bretagne,  il  est  tres  admissible  que 
merluche  vienne  des  cotes  de  1'Ouest  de  la  France  (cf.  le  Diet.  Gen.  a 
merluche)  ou  il  est  le  nom  ordinaire  du  merluccius  vulgaris  Flem.  (cf. 
auvergn.  marlucko  dans  Mistral  a  merlusso).  II  est  interessant  aussi  de 
remarquer  que  merluche  est  cite  pour  Orleans  et  marluche  pour  le  centre 
de  la  France  comme  noms  de  la  femelle  du  turdus  merula  L.  dans 
Holland,  Fa.  Pop.y  II,  246. — Reste  a  dire  quelques  mots  sur  le  fr.  merlan. 
M.  Meyer-Liibke,  a  son  art.  5534,  semble  admettre  definitivement  parmi 
les  derives  de  mgrtila  la  serie  suivante :  v.  fr.  merlenc  (>it.  merlango), 
fr.  merlan  (>  it.  merlano,  esp.  merlan).  Ici  certaines  observations  sont 
a  faire.  Le  fr.  merlan  est  a  proprement  parler  un  nom  du  gadus  mer- 
langus L.  bien  qu'on  s'en  sert  pour  indiquer  d'autres  gades  (ex.  g.  merlan 
jaune=  gadus  pollachius  L.  etc.);  d'autre  part  le  gadus  merlangus  L., 
tres  rare  sur  les  c6tes  mediterraneennes  de  FEspagne  et  de  la  France  et 
sur  la  cote  ouest  de  FItalie,  n'a  guere  de  nom  populaire  pour  ces  pays. 
Pour  Fetymologie  de  merlan,  le  Diet.  Gen.  admet  aussi  Fexplication 
par  merula  et  suppose  que  le  suffixe  est  germanique  et  cette  hypo- 
these  est  appuyee  par  la  forme  picarde  merlin.  On  est  done  tente  de 
rattacher  au  fr.  merlenc,  merlan,  diverses  formes  provengales,  italiennes 
et  espagnoles.  Cependant  je  ne  vois  deja  pas  comment  on  derivera 
1'ital.  merlango  du  v.  fr.  merlenc',  je  ne  trouve  pas  merlango  dans  les 
dictionnaires  et  je  soupgonne  que  c'est  un  mot  savant  caique  sur  le 
merlangus  de  Linne :  celui-ci  est  a  son  tour  une  forme  du  bas-latin 
qu''on  trouve  dans  les  textes  medievaux  a  cote  de  merlengus  et  merlingus. 
Plus  difficile  encore  est  le  prov.  merlengo,  sb.  f.,  nom  du  merluccius  vul- 
garis Flem.,  qui  semble  representer  *merlinga,  et  qu'il  est  en  tout  cas 
difficile  de  rattacher  plus  etroitement  au  v.  fr.  merlenc.  II  est  bon  aussi 
de  rappeler  qu'a  cote  de  Fit.  merlano  que  donne  M.  Meyer-Ltibke,  de 
M.  L.  R.  ix.  13 


194  DeMx  Noms  de  Poissons 

1'esp.  merlan  (=gadus  merlangus  d'apres  les  listes  de  Nemnich,  publiees 
de  1793  a  1798),  le  prov.  merlan  (depuis  Cette  jusqu'a  Nice,  nom  du 
merluccius  yulgaris  Flem.),  un  ital.  merlana  est  glose  par  le  Florio  de 
1688  '  a  whiting  or  merlan  fish '  et  un  prov.  merlano  est  donne  par 
Mistral  comme  synonyme  de  mouno  '  sorte  de  poisson  de  roche  du  genre 
merlan.'  Quelle  est  1'origine  de  ses  diverses  formes  feminines  qui 
rappellent  merluccia  a  c6te  de  merluccio  ? — On  peut  ter miner  en  disant 
que  divers  dictionnaires  italiens  du  xvne  se,  le  Duez  de  1660  et  le 
Florio  de  1688  entre  autres,  citent  Tit.  merlo  aussi  bien  que  1'it.  merla 
comme  nom  du  merlan.  II  est  clair  que  si  Ton  peut  accepter  cette 
indication  —  et  n'oublions  pas  que  par  'merlan  il  faut  comprendre  tres 
probablement  le  merluccius  vulgaris  Fl.  et  non  le  gadus  merlangus  L. 
comme  je  1'ai  explique  plus  haut  —  que  1'explication  de  Tit.  merluccio 
etc.  par  un  type  *meruluceus  devient  a  peu  pres  certaine. 

II.  Famille  des  Labridae  Gtinth.  (surtout  1'espece  labrus  merula  L.). 
Malte  mirli,  sicil.  turdu  merru,  Catane  merra  (Carus,  Prodr.,  II,  597), 
prov.  merle  (1554  Rondelet,  De  Pise.  Marin.,  p.  172),  noms  du  labrus 
merula  L.     Parmi  les  noms  franyais,  Littre  donne  merle  et  merlot1  qu'on 
trouve  deja  dans  Lacepede,  Hist.  Nat.  des  Poiss.,  in  (1800),  p.  492 ;  je 
crois  que  merle  remonte  en  definitive  au  prov.  merle  de  Rondelet ;  voir 
aussi   Cotgrave  a  merle  de  mer.      Ajoutons  comme  noms  du   labrus 
merula   L.,  1'esp.  merlo,  mirlo  (Nemnich),  le  port,  melro  (Nemnich), 
melroa  (Michaelis).     A  Tile  d'Elbe  merlo  =  labrus  turdus  L.  (=  ?  labrus 
turdus  Cuv.)  d'apres  Koestlin  cite  par  Rolland,  Fa.  Pop.,  ill,  154. — Pour 
les  noms  de  1'ane  donnes  au  labrus  merula  L.  pour  les  couleurs  foncees 
du  dos,  voir  la  note  141  burrinho  (Rev.  d.  L.  Rom.  Liv,  159). 

III.  Famille  percidae  Giinther   (sous-famille  serraninae  Giinth.). 
Trieste  et  Venise  merla  di  mar=serranus  scriba  Cuv.  dans  Carus,  Prodr., 
II,  613. 

IV.  Famille  scombridae  Giinth.  (sous-famille  stromateinae  Giinth.). 
Fr.  merle  =  centrolophus  pompilus  Cuv. 

Ayant  donne  les  indications  dont  je  dispose  sur  les  noms  de  poissons 
qui  sont  des  noms  de  merles,  je  vais  maintenant  reunir  d'autres  noms  de 
ces  memes  poissons  qui  paraissent  remonter  a  un  type  ante'rieur  a 
meriilus,  merula,  en  suivant  Fordre  etabli  ci-dessus : 

I.  Famille  des  Gadidae  Gunth. — On  trouve  1'esp.  mero  — gadus 
pollachius  L.  ex.  g.  dans  le  Diet,  of  the  Spanish  and  English  Languages 
de  Neuman  et  Baretti,  ed.  1837. 

1  merlot  est  dej&  dans  le  Diet,  d'hist.  nat.  de  Valmont  de  Bomare  (I6re  edn.,  1765)  a  1'art. 
merle,  nom  de  poisson. 


PAUL    BAPvBIER    FILS  195 

II.  Famille  des  Labridae  Gtinth. — D'apres  Rolland,  Fa.  Pop.,  in, 
154,  citant  VEnsayo  de  Cornide  (1788),  1'esp.  mero  de  costa  =  labrus 
turdus  L.     Nemnich  en   1793 — 8  donne  1'esp.  mero  de  costa  =  labrus 
merula  L. 

III.  Famille  des  Percidae  Gtinth.  (sous-famille  serraninae  Giinth.). 
Parmi  les  noms  de  serrans  on  a:  1'esp.  mero  =  par  acentropristis  hepatus 
Klunz  (Cams,  Prodr.,  n,  609) ;  le  galic.  et  esp.  mero  (cf.  Baleares  neru, 
Ivi$a  nera,  Naples  cernia  nera  =  cerna  gig  as  Bonap.),  Pyr.  Or.  mero 
(Rolland,  Fa.  Pop.,  in,  181),  prov.  meroun,  merou,  Genes  meu  =  cerna 
gigas  Bonap.  (cf.  Cams,  Prodr.,  II,  610);  esp.  mero  de  altura  =  serranus 
scriba  Cuv.,  esp.  mero  bort  =  serranus  cabrilla  Cuv.  (Carus,  Prodr.,  n, 
612,  613).     C'est  du  prov.  merou  qu'est  pris  le  fr.  merou  dont  Lacepede 
s'est  servi  dans  holocentre  mdrou1  (Hist.  Nat.  des  Poiss.,  IV,  376),  et  dont 
Cuvier  a  fait  un  nom  generique  (Regne  Animal,  II  (1829),  140),  ex.  g.  le 
merou  brun  =  cerna  gigas  Bonap. 

II  est  clair  que  les  noms  que  nous  venons  de  citer  partent  d'un  type 
merus,  sauf  le  prov.  merou  qui  serait  un  derive  en  -onem  de  ce  type. 
Etant  donne  que  merus  et  merulus  s'appliquent  aux  memes  poissons,  il 
me  semble  infiniment  probable  que  merulus  doit  etre  considere  comme  un 
diminutif  de  merus.  Je  me  demande  seulement  s'il  faut  identifier  ce 
merus  avec  le  masculin  de  1'adj.  mer-us,  -a,  -um  (Meyer-Ltibke,  art. 
5535)  surtout  atteste  en  latin  au  sens  de  '  pur/  Que  merus  ait  servi 
d'adjectif  de  couleur,  c'est  ce  que  presupposerait  1'explication  par  ce 
mot  du  roum.  mneru  *  bleu '  dans  Puscariu,  Human.  Etym.  Wtbuch,  art. 
1099 ;  cf.  aussi  roum.  meriu  'vert,'  et  noter  que  Pedersen,  Vergl.  Gramm. 
d.  Kelt.  Spr.  (1908),  I,  91,  rapproche  du  lat.  purus  le  v.  irl.  ur  'vert.' 
Mais  sans  insister  sur  ces  hypotheses,  si  Ton  se  tourne  vers  la  peninsule 
iberique  ou  surtout  merus  a  surve'cu  comme  nom  de  poisson,  on  peut 
trouver  quelques  indices  : 

(1)  le  galic.  mera,  merada  'niebla  hiimeda  que  hace  dano  al  centeno, 
cuando  esta  en  flor'  (Valladares   Nunez,  Diccion.    Gallego-Castillano, 
1876),  parait  indiquer  quelque  chose  comme  la  nielle  des  ce'reales,  noire 
et    grasse    au    toucher ;    cf.    fr.   nielle  <  lat.    nigella,   prov.   negrihoun 
'  nielle.' 

(2)  le  port,  mera  'a  sort  of  liquor  extracted  from  small  pieces  of 
wood  of  the  wild  olive-tree  when  it  is  green.     It  is  used  by  shepherds 
and  farriers  to  cure  their  sheep  and  horses '  (Vieyra,  Portug.  Engl.  Diet., 
ed.  1794).     L'esp.  miera,  le  port,  mera  sont  generalement  expliques  par 

1  On  a  d£ja  persegue  merou  dont  s'est  servi  Bonnaterre  dans  les  Planches  de  I' Encyclo- 
pedic Methodique. 

13—2 


196  Deux  Noms  de  Poissons 

' huile  de  genievre ' ;  il  s'agit  de  1'huile  de  cade  extraite  du  bois  du 
juniperus  oxycedrus  et  qui  a  longtemps  servi  centre  la  gale  des  moutons 
et  les  ulceres  des  chevaux.  Peut-etre  pourrait-on  rapprocher  le  prov. 
merihoun  '  marc  d'olives,  de  noix,  de  raisin '  dans  les  Alpes  Maritimes 
(Mistral)  et  le  prov.  meriho,  nom  d'un  raisin  dit  aussi  moarihoun. 

(3)  le  portug.  mera  '  bars,  barsch '  (Michaelis).  Le  dos  a  rayures 
foncees  de  la  perca  fluvicitilis  L.  lui  a  procure  bien  des  noms :  cf.  le 
grec  TrepKr),  le  lat.  perca  et  voir  ma  note  113  persegue  (Rev.  d.  L.  Rom., 
LIII,  45). 

Les  exemples  citds  font  croire  que  merits  a  eu  le  sens  de  '  fonceY 
En  latin  Tadj.  merus  s'employait  constamment  avec  vinum  (cf.  le  napol. 
miere  '  vin  pur '  dans  Meyer-Liibke,  art.  5535) ;  on  sait  que  le  fr.  mere 
goutte  (ou  mere  <  mera)  est  le  nom  du  premier  vin  qui  coule  de  la  ven- 
dange  avant  que  le  raisin  ait  e'te  foule ;  comme  la  premiere  liqueur  est 
la  plus  foncee  merus  aurait  passe  facilement  de  '  pur,  sans  melange '  a 
'  fonce.'  II  est  sur  que  ce  second  sens  a  du  se  developper  de  fort  bonne 
heure  si  merula  vient  de  merus  puisque  merula  '  merle '  est  deja  dans 
Varron.  II  faudrait  admettre  que  le  sens  '  fonce  '  est  reste  populaire 
puisqu'il  n'est  pas  atteste  dans  les  textes. 

PAUL  BAKBIER  FILS. 

LEEDS. 


LESSING   IN    ENGLAND. 

IT  is  no  easy  task  to  estimate  the  influence  of  Lessing  on  a  literature 
which  knew  him  almost  entirely  by  indirect  means.  Once  the  compara- 
tively few  translations  of  his  works  have  been  carefully  studied,  once 
the  few  indications  of  their  influence  have  been  traced,  therevremains 
only  the  method  of  laborious  search  through  the  works  (for  the  most 
part  un-indexed)  of  those  who  might  possibly  have  known  Lessing  at 
first-hand.  There  were  not  many  such  in  the  eighteenth  century,  and 
but  few  more  in  the  early  part  of  the  nineteenth ;  whence  it  comes  that 
the  number  of  English  books  quoted  gives  a  most  inadequate  idea  of 
the  multitude  actually  consulted.  It  is  evident  that  a  compilation  of 
all  the  English  references  to  Lessing  would  require  a  space  of  more  than 
one  life-time,  and  in  the  opinion  of  the  present  writer  the  utility  and 
even  the  interest  of  such  a  work  would  be  questionable.  The  following 
pages  claim  to  be  only  a  record  of  discoveries  indicating  the  more  or 
less  intelligent  interest  aroused  by  Lessing  in  England  and  America; 
and  if  high  admiration  for  the  great  German  has  brought  about  the 
inclusion  of  much  which  cannot  definitely  be  said  to  further  this  aim, 
yet  a  sincere  effort  has  been  made  to  avoid  those  purely  subjective 
'  discoveries '  to  which  German  criticism  is  so  prone. 

I. 

TRANSLATIONS  OF  LESSING. 
(a)     Fables,  Epigrams,  Poems  and  Minor  Dramas. 

The  first  of  Lessing's  works  to  appear  in  English  was  the  Fables, 
well  translated  by  John  Richardson  of  Eworth,  in  1773.  The  version 
attracted  the  attention  of  at  least  one  critic  of  the  day;  for  in  the 
Monthly  Review's  notice  of  Laocoon  the  following  passage  occurs :  '  Mr 
Lessing  is  well-known  in  the  republic  of  letters,  by  several  works,  and 
particularly  by  his  very  ingenious  Fables/  It  is  of  course  possible  that 
the  reviewer,  who  (though  in  his  notice  '  Mablerey '  stands  for  '  Mahlerey  ' 
and  umlaut  is  ignored)  evidently  had  some  small  knowledge  of  German, 


198  Leasing  in  England 

knew  the  work  in  the  original  language ;  but  from  the  fact  that  the 
Fables  alone  are  cited  as  one  of  the  '  several  works '  it  seems  reasonable 
to  conclude  that  the  reviewer  had  read  Richardson's  translation.  It  is, 
however,  certain  that  the  work  was  a  comparative  failure  in  its  English 
form1.  Other  translations  (the  first  together  with  the  treatises  on  the 
Fable  and  on  the  Epigram  in  the  only  extant  English  version)  appeared 
in  1825,  in  1845,  and  in  1860.  A  German  and  English  edition,  London, 
1829,  12°,  remains  to  be  mentioned. 

William  Taylor  of  Norwich,  to  whom  fuller  attention  will  be  devoted 
later,  translates  twenty-five  of  the  Epigrams  and  includes  four  of  the 
Fables  from  Richardson's  edition  in  his  Historic  Survey.  The  same  work 
also  contains  a  rimed  version  of  Der  Adler  und  die  Eule.  Die  Schwalbe 
occurs  in  the  Weekly  Magazine,  n,  82. 

Of  other  poems,  An  eine  kleine  Schone  was  translated  in  the  Weekly 
Magazine  of  Philadelphia  in  May  1798.  Die  Namen  appeared  in 
Harley's  version  in  the  Portfolio  (Philadelphia)  for  January,  1803,  ill, 
25.  S.  T.  Coleridge's  original  effort  was  given  to  Cottle  and  is  to  be 
found  in  the  latter's  Reminiscences  (1847),  p.  288.  It  runs  thus : 

MY  LOVE. 

I  asked  my  love,  one  happy  day, 

What  I  should  call  her  in  my  lay. 

By  what  sweet  name  from  Rome  or  Greece  : 

Iphigenia,  Clelia,  Chloris, 

Laura,  Lesbia,  or  Doris, 

Dorimene  or  Lucrece? 

'Ah!'  replied  my  gentle  fair, 

1  Beloved  !  what  are  names  but  air  ? 

Take  whatever  suits  the  line  : 

Call  me  Clelia,  call  me  Chloris, 

Laura,  Lesbia,  or  Doris, 

Only,  only,  call  me  thine.' 

The  same  poem  appeared  as  Names  in  the  1835  edition  of  Coleridge's 
works,  with  alterations.  It  was  given  to  Cottle  as  a  translation  from 
Lessing :  and  the  debt  is  further  acknowledged  in  Biographia  Literaria. 
The  fact  that  Coleridge  indicated  the  authorship  of  this  one  piece,  and 
announced  five  epigrams  which  accompanied  it  (On  a  bad  Reader  of  his 
own  Verses,  two  On  Liars,  one  On  observing  a  Lady  licking  her  Lap-dog, 
one  On  a  Writer  of  Fugitive  Verse)  as  translations  from  the  German, 
would  seem  to  be  the  chief  ground  for  the  following  statement  by 
Brandl,  p.  263 :  'Er...lieferte  eine  lange  Reihe  von  gereimten  Spriichen 

1  As  it  was  published  at  York,  the  London  reviews  have  no  mention  of  it.  See  also 
a  notice  of  Lessing  in  Bichardson's  preface  to  Wieland's  Agathon,  p.  iv.  London, 
1773,  8vo. 


SYDNEY    H.    KENWOOD  199 

(bei  Pickering1,  n,  161 — 178),  welche  sich  bei  naherem  Zusehen  fast 
alle  auf  Lessing  zuriickfiihren  lassen,  wie  er  selbst  gegen  Cottle 
(S.  287)  andeutete.'  Goedeke  has  '  darch  S.  T.  Coleridge,  vgl.  Brandl ' 
— an  unusually  vague  reference  for  Goedeke.  Perhaps  the  compilers  of 
the  invaluable  Grundriss  lacked  enthusiasm  for  Brandl's  '  Zuriick- 
fuhrung.' 

Five  epigrams  are  translated  by  G.H.  Lewes  in  his  notice  of  Lessing 
in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  Vol.  LXXXII  (1845),  pp.  451 — 70.  Three  are 
to  be  found  in  the  Philosophical  Repository  of  Philadelphia,  Vol.  v 
(1805),  p.  128. 

Of  the  early  comedies,  Der  Freygeist  and  Der  Schatz  were  translated 
by  the  Rev.  J.  J.  Holroyd  and  published  in  1838.  His  version*- formed 
a  basis  for  the  second  and  last  appearance  of  these  works  in  English — 
in  Bohn's  Library  (1878).  Of  Holroyd's  translation  the  editor  (Ernest 
Bell)  says  in  his  preface :  '  though  it  rendered  the  spirit  of  the  original 
very  successfully,  [it]  did  not  pretend  to  be  literally  accurate,  and,  with 
a  view  to  obtaining  greater  literalness... considerable  alterations  have 
been  introduced.'  The  collection  included  besides  Der  Freygeist  and 
Der  Schatz,  Damon,  Der  junge  Gelehrte,  Die  Juden  and  Die  alte  Jungfer. 
Bell's  desire  for  '  literalness '  leads  him  to  tolerate  passages  that  are 
quite  un-English:  'my  so  tender  love'  (Damon,  sc.  iv),  'you  are  such 
a  dried  fool,  such  a  stockfish'  (Gelehrte,  Act  n,  sc.  xi),  'such  a  little 
book  will  surely  let  itself  be  read '  (ibid.  Act  n,  sc.  iv),  '  by  mistrustfully 
suddenly  withdrawing  myself  (ibid.  Act  in,  sc.  ix),  are  a  few  examples. 
In  Die  Juden,  sc.  II,  the  humour  of  Krumm's  '  von  einer  sehr  gefahr- 
lichen  Gefahr '  is  lost  in  the  English  '  from  a  very  great  danger.'  The 
translation  is  not  always  even  literally  correct :  in  the  Freygeist,  Act  iv, 
sc.  iii,  '  schmachtend '  is  '  solid  '  and  '  Sammelplatz  '  is  '  fountain.'  . 

Damon,  Der  junge  Gelehrte,  Die  Juden  and  Die  alte  Jungfer  appeared 
in  Bohn's  Library  for  the  first  and  last  time  in  English.  William 
Taylor  gives  in  his  Historic  Survey  a  delightfully  fresh  and  '  English ' 
translation  of  an  extract  from  Act  II,  sc.  xi  of  Der  junge  Gelehrte,  an 
example  of  what  might  have  been  substituted  for  the  bald  version  in 
Bohn :  but  it  is  difficult  to  see  what  good  purpose  can  be  served  by 
labour  expended  on  so  mediocre  a  work.  With  the  exception  of  Der 
Freygeist  (which  has  always  seemed  to  the  present  writer  to  be  a  greatly 
underrated  comedy)  the  early  plays  of  Lessing  may  be  consigned  to  not 
unmerited  oblivion. 

1  William  Pickering  published  the  Poetical  and  Dramatic  Works  of  Coleridge,  London, 
1877.  Re-issued  by  Macmillan  in  1880. 


200  Lessing  in  England 

Writing  to  Southey,  June  23,  1799  (Robberds,  I,  p.  286),  William 
Taylor  asks  :  '  To  what  Spanish  poet  is  Lessing  indebted  for  the  annexed 
six  lines  ?  He  gives  them  as  a  translation.  I  suspect  their  originality ' : 

Yesterday  I  loved, 

To-day  I  grieve, 

To-morrow  I  die  : 

Yet  shall  I  think, 

Both  to-day  and  to-morrow, 

Gladly  of  yesterday. 

In  the  Foreign  Quarterly  Review  for  1840  (Vol.  xxvy  pp.  233—53)  will 
be  found  a  capital  rendering  of  the  epigram  on  Voltaire,  together  with 
three  others  and  four  fables.  Seven  epigrams  are  included  (pp.  346 — 7) 
in  W.  Davenport  Adams'  collection  (undated,  London),  called  English 
Epigrams. 


(b)     Miss  Sara  Sampson,  Minna  von  Barnhelin,  and  Emilia  Galotti. 

Sara  did  not,  as  stated  in  the  preface  to  Lessing's  Dramatic  Works, 
London,  1878,  Vol.  II,  appear  for  the  first  time  in  English  in  Bohn's 
Library.  An  American  translation,  '  by  a  citizen  of  Philadelphia,'  was 
published  in  that  city  in  1789 \  The  version  in  Bohn  is  the  last:  and 
though  fairly  translated  it  does  not  seem  to  have  aroused  any  great 
interest.  Sara  has  never  appeared  on  the  English  stage,  where  its 
Germanized  English  dramatis  personae  would  probably  make  it  ridicu- 
lous. It  was  known  to  Henry  Mackenzie2,  in  a  French  translation.  He 
finds  Sara  too  weak  and  Mar  wood  too  vicious,  while  Sir  William  is 
'insipidly  drawn,  and  awkwardly  introduced.'  He  thinks  the  use  of 
a  predictive  dream  (here  arid  in  L 'esprit  fort)  faulty,  since  it  anticipates 
the  conclusion. 

Minna  was  translated  into  English  for  the  first  time  by  Major  James 
Johnstone  in  1786.  The  preface  shows  some  knowledge  of  the  state  of 
literature  in  Germany.  The  style  of  the  translation  is  remarkably  good, 
though  many  liberties  are  taken  and  are  thus  excused  in  the  dedication 
to  the  Queen :  '  I  own,  this  play  and  Lessing's  are  materially  different ; 
but  I  have  endeavoured  to  make  it  what  he  would  have  done,  had  he 
written  at  the  present  moment  and  for  an  English  audience.'  The 
comedy  was  produced  on  July  24  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre.  Major 
von  Tellheim  is  promoted  to  be  Colonel  Holberg:  Minna  appears  as 

1  See  W.  Todt's  admirable  study,  Lessing  in  England,  Heidelberg,  1912,  pp.  18,  60. 

2  An  Account  of  the  German  Theatre,  in  Transactions  of  the  Eoyal  Society  of  Edinburgh, 
n  (1788),  pp.  154  f. 


SYDNEY    H.    KENWOOD 


201 


Caroline,  Countess  of  Bruchsal :  and  Riccaut  becomes  Bellair,  '  a  French 
officer.'  The  prologue  contained  the  lines  : 

Leasing,  a  German  bard  of  high  renown, 
Long  on  the  Continent  has  charmed  the  town  : 
His  play 's  as  much  applauded  at  Vienna 
As  here  the  School  for  Scandal  or  Duenna. 

Baker  (n,  p.  1641)  says:  'This  play,  which  is  simple  and  pleasing,  is 
taken  from  the  German  of  Lessing :  the  language  is  spirited,  with 
a  happy  mixture  of  humour  and  sentiment.  It  was  well  acted,  and  ran 
nine  nights.'  The  same  authority  (i,  410)  states  that  the  translation 
appeared  in  July  1786,  and  ascribes  it  to  Johnstone.  Oulton2  (i,  152) 
remarks :  '  July  24.  The  Disbanded  Officer :  or  Countess  of  Bruchsal, 
a  Comedy,  taken  from  the  German,  and  ascribed  to  Major  Jehnson. 
Very  well  received.'  J.  L.  Haney3  says  that  the  play  ran  for  eleven 
nights ;  but  he  does  not  name  his  authority.  The  European  Magazine 
has  the  following  notice :  '  24th  of  July.  A  new  comedy,  called  The 
Disbanded  Officer,  or,  The  Countess  of  Bruchsal,  was  performed  at  the 
Theatre  Royal  in  the  Haymarket.  [Here  follows  the  cast :  the  parts  of 
'  Colonel  Holberg '  and  '  Caroline,  Countess  of  Bruchsal '  were  assigned 
to  Mr  Palmer  and  Miss  Farren,  to  whom  the  critic  says  '  the  author 
owes  great  obligations4.']  The  scene  lies  in  a  hotel  at  Berlin.  The 
fable  of  this  comedy,  which  is  taken  from  the  German,  is  simple  and 
pleasing,  though  the  whole  part  of  .the  Frenchman  might  have  been 
omitted  without  injury  to  the  piece.'  The  European  Magazine  says 
that  the  comedy  was  played  four  times  in  July,  five  times  in  August, 
and  once  in  September.  The  Critical  Review  and  the  Monthly  Review 
gave  long  and  favourable  notices,  with  selections  from  the  text :  the 
English  Review  was  not  so  friendly ;  evidently  Minna  was  too  popular 
for  its  fancy.  '  Though  Lessing,'  it  says,  '  has  probably  little  claim  to 
the  elevated  rank  that  has  been  assigned  him  by  his  injudicious  admirers, 
he  is  not,  we  think,  entirely  destitute  of  merit.... We  are  ourselves 
acquainted  with  some  of  his  performances  which  we  do  not  recollect  with 
disgust.'  It  would  be  interesting  to  know  which  of  his  '  performances  ' 
were  thought  good  enough  to  be  damned  with  such  faint  praise; 
perhaps  the  criticism  has  the  same  intent  and  value  as  Polonius'  '  That's 
good;  mobled  queen  is  good.'  Colman,  the  reviewer  is  disposed  to 
think,  about  represents  Lessing's  merits  as  a  dramatist. 

1  Biographia  Dramatica,  by-D.  E.  Baker,  London,  3rd  ed.,  1812. 

2  A  History  of  the  Theatres  of  London,  by  W.  C.  Oulton,  2  vols.     London,  1796. 

3  Americana  Germanica,  iv  (1902),  pp.  142  f. 

4  Johnstone  is  probably  meant ;  if  not,  the  critic's  ignorance  of  the  date  of  Lessing's 
death  need  surprise  nobody. 


202  Les$ing  in  England 

After  the  performance  in  September  1786,  The  Disbanded  Officer 
disappeared  from  the  London  stage :  but  the  Theatrical  Register  of 
York  records  its  production  in  that  city.  Some  slight  alterations  were 
introduced ;  '  a  Boy '  is  among  the  dramatis  personae  and  the  names  are 
somewhat  altered.  The  notice  runs:  'This  piece,  though  here  and 
there  interspers'd  with  a  few  flashes  of  the  comic  kind,  cannot  be  con- 
sider'd  as  any  extraordinary  production.  'Tis  true  there  is  something  of 
generosity  in  Warmans  (Werner),  which  pleases  the  imagination :  especi- 
ally when  the  gloomy  situation  of  Colonel  Holberg  is  consider'd.  The 
stratagems  of  the  Baroness  are  sometimes  worthy  of  attention,  as  well 
as  those  of  her  fair  servant  Lisetta :  nor  can  less  notice  be  paid  to  the 
blunt,  tho'  faithful  services  of  Rohlf V  It  is  comforting  to  think  that 
London  criticism,  bad  as  it  was,  rarely  sank  quite  so  low  as  this. 

Genest2  (vi,  pp.  413  £),  after  a  sketch  of  the  plot,  proceeds:  'The 
plot  of  this  comedy  is  too  slight  for  five  acts,  but  on  the  whole  it  is 
a  pretty  good  play.  It  was  adapted  to  the  English  stage  by  Johnstone 
from  the  German  of  Lessing.  A  regular  translation  of  Lessing's  play 
was  published  in  1799  as  The  School  for  Honour.' 

This  second  translation  is  good  in  point  of  style  and  admirably 
printed.  It  is  anonymous,  and,  according  to  the  Biographia  Dramatica, 
it  was  never  acted,  though  the  original  was  to  be  preferred  to  most  of 
Kotzebue's  and  Inland's  pieces. 

The  next  translation  was  by  Fanny  Holcroft  in  1806,  under  the 
guidance  of  her  father,  Thos.  Holcroft.  There  are  some,  though  few, 
omissions  :  these  are  justified  by  the  father  in  his  introduction 
(p.  260).  '  Passion,'  says  he,  '  is  here  verbose  :  it  almost  wearies,  yet  the 
translation  has  been  freely  curtailed  by  my  daughter  and  myself.'  He 
perceives,  it  seems,  like  critics  of  a  later  day,  a  fundamental  difference 
between  the  two  nations :  the  one  loving  to  dwell  for  long  upon  a  single 
emotional  picture,  the  other  Athenian  in  its  taste  for  constant  change. 
Holcroft  does  not  point  this  difference :  but  it  is  the  cause  of  most  that 
he  censures  as  faulty  in  his  somewhat  long  introduction,  which  is  well 
worth  reading. 

The  other  versions  of  Minna  are  by  Holroyd,  Wrankmore,  Bell  and 
Maxwell.  A  translation  by  Robert  Harvey,  Love  and  Honour,  was 
apparently  never  printed.  Taylor  says  it  was  'elegantly  translated 
under  the  title  of  "  Love  and  Honour,"  by  the  late  Robert  Harvey,  Esq., 
of  Catton,  near  Norwich.'  For  another  version,  remarkable  only  for 

1  Just ;  the  spelling  also  of  Genest.     The  London  cast  had  'Rolf.' 

2  Some  Account  of  the  English  Stage,  etc.,  by  John  Genest,  10  vols.     Bath,  1832. 


SYDNEY    H.    KENWOOD 


203 


shameless  baldness  and  constant  errors,  see  Democratic  Review,  xxiv 
(New  York,  1849),  pp.  176,  225,  345,  436,  535,  xxv,  p.  56. 

The  English  public  was  first  introduced  to  Lessing's  Emilia  Galotti 
by  Henry  Maty  in  his  New  Review,  ix  (1786),  which  contained  a  selection 
of  scenes  connected  by  a  condensed  story  of  the  plot.  The  translation 
is  very  creditable.  Oulton  says  (n,  167):  'October  28  [1794]  Emilia 
Galotti,  a  Tragedy,  which  had  been  long  in  agitation.  It  was  translated 
by  several  from  the  German  ;  one  person  (a  miniature-painter)  insinuated 
that  the  present  translator  (whose  name  was  concealed1)  availed  himself 
of  a  copy,  which  he  had  shewn  him ;  at  any  rate  the  tragedy,  from 
a  ludicrous  circumstance  of  a  picture,  was  laughed  at,  and  consequently 
perished.'  The  European  Magazine  for  November,  1794,  remarks: 
'  Emilia  Galotti,  a  Tragedy  translated  from  Lessing,  was  acted  the  first 
time  at  Drury  Lane.  [Here  follows  cast:  Mrs  Siddons  was  'Countess 
Orsina.']  This  Play... exhibits  in  a  strong  and  forcible  manner  the 
horrors  arising  from  the  unrestrained  exercise  of  power,  as  well  as  the 
unrestrained  indulgence  of  the  passions.  The  subject  is  not,  however, 
well  chosen,  though  in  many  parts  the  spectator  was  interested  very 
powerfully  in  the  fate  of  the  different  characters,  which  in  all  parts 
were  well  performed.'  Cumberland  wrote  the  prologue  :  it  was  a  com- 
parison between  the  poor  staging  of  Shakespeare's  day  and  his  own ; 
while  Colman  supplied  the  epilogue,  which  expressed  delight  that  the 
events  of  the  piece  could  not  happen  in  England,  and  that  the  King  of 
England  had  too  many  children  himself  to  wish  to  ruin  other  men's 
daughters.  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  notes  that  the  play  was  thrice 
repeated,  on  Oct.  30  and  on  Nov.  1  and  4  [1794]:  but  the  careful  'Genest 
(vn,  pp.  180  f.)  says :  '  Oct.  28.  Never  acted  [i.e.  a  novelty],  Emilia 
Galotti  [here  follows  cast  with  descriptive  additions  in  the  manner  of 
Genest].  This  play  was  translated  from  the  German.  It  was  acted 
only  three  times,  but  it  deserved  a  better  fate.  Mrs  Siddons  had  only 
one  scene,  but  that  was  completely  in  her  line  of  acting.  Emilia 
Galotti  was  not  printed  at  this  time,  but  a  translation  of  Lessing's  play, 
by  Thompson,  was  published  in  1800.'  He  thought  it  'an  interesting 
play ' ;  but  '  the  catastrophe  might  perhaps  be  altered  for  the  better. 
As  it  now  stands,  it  rather  excites  disgust  than  pity.  Emilia's  case  is 
not  so  desperate  as  that  of  Virginia.' 

It  is  difficult  to  account  for  the  failure  of  Emilia  in  London.    It  was 
produced  as  the  first  novelty  of  the  season  at  a  great  theatre,  the  cast 
was  brilliant,  and  two  of  the  foremost  dramatists  of  the  day  had  a  share 
1  Goedeke  gives  it  as  Berrington. 


204  Lessing  in  England 

in  presenting  it.  Genest,  indeed,  in  the  passage  above  quoted,  put  his 
finger  on  the  weak  spot  in  the  tragedy.  But  the  weakness  seems  to 
have  escaped  earlier  critics,  and  cannot  be  adduced  as  a  cause  for 
failure1. 

Next  to  Thompson  comes  Fanny  Holcroft  once  more  with  a  transla- 
tion of  Emilia  in  1805.  This  was  reprinted  at  Philadelphia  in  1810. 
The  preface  is  interesting.  The  following  is  an  extract :  '  The  chief 
defect  in  this  tragedy  is  that  it  is  written  in  an  explanatory,  .colloquial 
and  prosaic  style :  but  this  is  what  may  be  almost  called  the  mortal  sin 
of  German  literature :  it  has  never  yet  attained  that  laconic  indication 
of  the  passions,  which  is  best  calculated  to  express  their  rapid,  confused 
and  desperate  course.  In  other  respects  Emilia  Galotti  is  a  masterpiece 
...[it]  only  requires  a  master  to  lop  away  its  superfluities,  preserve  its 
beauties,  and  link  them  in  quick  and  poetical  succession,  to  render  it 
perhaps  the  finest  modern  tragedy  known  to  the  stage2.' 

A  wretched  translation  is  to  be  found  in  the  Democratic  Review, 
Vol.  xxn.  Other  versions  will  be  found  noticed  in  the  list  of  transla- 
tions appended  to  this  article. 

(c)    Nathan  der  Weise. 

R.  E.  Raspe,  a  German  exile  who,  says  Lounsbury3,  '  had  left  his 
country  for  his  country's  good/  won  the  praises  of  the  Monthly  Review 
for  his  Tabby  in  Elysium  of  Zacharia  and  its  censure  for  his  Nathan  the 
Wise,  both  of  which  appeared  in  1781.  The  Monthly  thus  gently  chides 
Raspe  through  Lessing.  '  One  design  of  this  drama  is  to  shew,  what 
surely  no  person  was  ever  silly  or  illiberal  enough  to  doubt  of,  or  deny, 
that  men  of  virtue  and  principle  are  to  be  found  among  the  professors 
of  every  religion.  Another  object  which  the  author  has  in  view  is,  to 
insinuate  that  the  Christian,  the  Jew  and  the  Mahomedan  have  each  of 
them  equal  reason  to  believe  their  own  religion  the  true  one.  The 
inference  from  this  is,  that  as  all  cannot  be  true,  it  is  most  probable  that 
all  are  false.  So  much  for  the  philosophic  candour,  which,  according  to 
the  Preface,  breathes  through  the  whole  of  this  composition.  Con- 
sidered merely  as  a  drama,  whatever  may  be  the  author's  reputation  in 
Germany,  it  is  unworthy  of  notice.  We  are  sorry  to  see  the  time,  and 

1  W.  Davenport  Adams,  A  Dictionary  of  the  Drama,  London,  1904,  i,  p.  459,  says  that 
it  was  produced  at  St  James'  Theatre,  London,  in  1852,  with  Henry  Devrient  as  Appiani. 

2  A.  H.  Japp  (German  Life  and  Literature,  London,  1880)  refers  to  a  production  of 
Emilia  at  the  Surrey  Theatre,  London,  '  some  years  ago.' 

3  Shakespeare  as  a  Dramatic  Artist,  New  York,  1901,  p.  87. 


SYDNEY    H.    KENWOOD 


205 


the  very  respectable  talents  of  Mr  Raspe  employed  to  so  little  advantage, 
either  to  the  public  or  himself.' 

Like  most  of  the  Monthly  Reviews  notices  the  above,  with  all  its 
lack  of  insight,  cannot  be  censured  as  ignorant  or  insincere.  After  all,  the 
doctrines  it  thinks  it  sees  in  Nathan  might  be  expected  to  spring  to  the 
sight  of  any  ordinary  person  who  should  read  it  for  the  first  time1;  and 
though  the  condemnation  of  the  drama  as  a  drama  is  absurdly 
extravagant,  yet  even  here  there  is  a  grain  of  truth.  Nathan  has  never 
been  acted  in  English,  and  its  production  on  a  stage  which  is  almost 
purely  a  commercial  institution  is  well-nigh  unthinkable.  The  work, 
as  I  hope  to  show,  has  been  valued  fairly  highly  in  our  country  as  a 
didactic  poem ;  but  as  a  drama  it  has  never  appealed  to  Englishmen, 
and  one  may  almost  safely  prophesy  that  it  never  will. 

To  return  to  Raspe.  The  Critical  Review,  a  journal  more  full- 
blooded  and  more  ignorant  than  the  Monthly,  referred  to  the  work  as 
'  a  heap  of  unintelligible  jargon,  very  badly  translated  from  the  German 
original,  written  it  seems  by  G.  E..Lessling2.  The  translator  informs  us 
in  his  preface  that  the  author  of  this  drama  stands  very  high  in  the 
opinion  of  his  countrymen,  because  he  stands  foremost  among  the  late 
reformers,  to  whom  Germany  is  indebted  for  its  present  golden  age  of 
literature.  The  reader  will  here  please  observe  that  this  German 
author,  in  the  elegant  language  of  his  translator  Mr  Raspe,  stands 
because  he  stands :  we  wish  he  may  not  fall,  because  he  falls  infinitely 
beneath  all  criticism:  and  can  only  say  that  if  this  is  the  golden  age 
of  German  literature,  it  appears,  at  least  by  this  specimen,  to  put  on  a 
very  leaden  appearance.'  With  regard  to  this  notice,  it  will  be  observed 
that  it  contains  nothing  to  show  that  Raspe  had  been  read  further  than 
his  preface,  the  '  elegant  language '  of  which  was  quite  probably  taken 
as  sufficient  ground  for  denouncing  the  whole  work  as  worthless,  and  as 
meet  subject  for  a  despicably  feeble  jest. 

No  one,  English,  German,  or  American,  seems  to  have  found  a  good 
word  to  say  for  poor  Raspe.  Erich  Schmidt  (Lessing,  n,  p.  412)  mentions 
his  'schlechte  Prosa';  Danzel  (Beilage  zu  S.  213,  S.  29)  and  Dlintzer 
(Erlauterungen,  S.  25)  have  non-committal  notices;  Herzfeld  (William 
Taylor  von  Norwich,  Halle,  1897)  says  :  '  Zum  Teil  lag  wieder  die  Schuld 
[dass  Nathan  keinen  Beifall  fand]  an  der  schlechten  Ubersetzung  (in 

1  Thomas    Paine,   Age   of  Reason,   Chap.  I,   drew  greatly  similar   conclusions  from 
a  superficial  comparison  of  the  three  religions. 

2  Lounsbury  ridicules  the  CriticaVs  insolent  criticism  '  of  a  great  writer  whose  name  it 
was  not  even  able  to  spell  correctly '  :  but  he  should  have  done  even  the  Critical  Revieiv 
the  justice  of  reporting  it  correctly.    It  says  '  G.  E.,'  not  '  Gr.  T.  Lessling,'  as  he  has  it. 


206  Lessing  in  England 

Prosa  1781  erschienen) Sie  ist  hochst  ungenau,  vergreift  sich  voll- 

standig  im  Ton  und  lasst  Stellen,  die  grossere  Schwierigkeiten  bieten, 
eirifach  aus.'  All  this  is  true ;  and  yet  Raspe's  translation  is  a  greatly 
more  creditable  performance  than  the  more  ambitious  efforts  of 
Reich  and  '  E.  S.  H.,'  about  which  we  shall  have  something  to  say 
later1. 

We  now  come  once  more  to  the  great  name  of  William  Taylor  of 
Norwich,  one  of  the  few  '  Vermittler '  of  Lessing's  genius  who  were  at 
once  scholars  and  poets.  Taylor  tells  us  that  his  translation2  of  Nathan 
was  'from  the  entire  work;  it  was  undertaken  in  March  1790,  when 
questions  of  toleration  were  much  afloat,  and  was  printed  the  following 
year  for  distribution  among  the  translator's  acquaintance.  In  1805 
a  second  edition  was  published  by  Sir  Richard  Phillips  in  London. 
This  reprint  varies  little  from  the  preceding,  but  has  undergone  several 
corrections.' 

It  is  ungracious  to  criticise  so  fine  a  piece  of  work  as  Taylor's 
Nathan  by  calling  attention  to  a  few  obvious  mistranslations  and 
obscurities  and  bold  retentions  of  the  German  idiom.  Lessing's  own 
noble  mind  would  have  disdained  such  a  method :  one  feels  that  here 
he  would  have  refrained  from  analysis  and  have  been  content  to  regard 
the  work  as  a  philosopher  does  the  world8.  But  Taylor's  mistakes  have 
been  copied ;  and,  as  I  hope  to  show,  at  least  one  subsequent  version  of 
Nathan  owes  its  chief  merit  to  a  partial  avoidance  of  his  faults.  It  is 
therefore  necessary  to  point  out  that  '  so  zieh'  ich  in  die  Gabel '  (Act  II, 
Sc.  i)  does  not  mean  'I  take  the  pawn'  any  more  than  'I  castle' 
(Willis)  or  '  I  withdraw  into  this  corner '  (E.  S.  H.),  and  that  therefore 
Herzfeld's  '  Hier  [in  der  Schachspielszene]  sind  die  Schwierigkeiten, 

welche  der Dialog,  sowie  die  technischen  Ausdrucke bereiten, 

glanzend  iiberwunden '  is  an  overstatement.  '  Delk '  (Act  H,  sc.  ix)  is 
not  'staff/  but  Boylan  and  Wood  have  it  so,  no  doubt  on  Taylor's 
authority;  nor  is  'Unterschleif  'deficits'  (Act  II,  Sc.  ii),  a  mistake 
copied  by  Wood,  Corbett,  Boylan  and  Jacks,  while  E.  S.  H.  character- 
istically omits  the  word  altogether.  Willis,  Reich  and  Maxwell  translate 
correctly  '  embezzlement.'  A  passage  from  the  fourth  Litter aturbrief* 

1  A  remark  of  Lounsbury's  (Shakespeare  as  Dramatic  Artist,  p.  87)  makes  it  clear  that 
he  did  not  know  Baspe's  version. 

2  It  occupies  the  end  of  Vol.  i  of  the  Historic  Survey ;  for  re-issues  of  his  Nathan  see 
list  of  translations. 

3  Litteraturbriefe,  xvi. 

4  'Am  wenigsten  aber  sind  sie  [die  Ubersetzer]  vermogend,  ihrem  Originale  nach- 
zudenken.     Derm  waren  sie  hierzu  nicht  ganz  unfahier,  so  wiirden  sie  es  fast  immer  aus 
der  Folge  der  Gedanken  abnehmen  konnen,  wo  sie  jene  mangelhafte  Kenntnis  der  Sprache 
zu  Fehlern  verleitet  hat.' 


SYDNEY    H.    KENWOOD  207 

exactly  expresses  one's  opinion  of  such  blind  following  of  the  accidentally 
and  momentarily  blind. 

Taylor's  refined  taste,  scholarship  and  poetic  feeling  would,  in  a 
man  of  less  originality,  have  made  a  translator  second  to  none ;  but 
that  priceless  individuality  which,  had  he  chosen,  might  have  won  him 
the  fame  of  a  great  author,  proved  a  fatal  bar  to  outstanding  eminence 
as  an  interpreter  of  others.  No  person  with  any  worthy  knowledge  of 
Lessing's  works  can  say,  on  reading  Taylor's  Nathan,  that  the  poem  is 
as  it  would  have  been  had  Lessing  been  an  Englishman.  In  fact,  the 
coupling  of  that  great  name  with  the  wayward  quaintness,  the  vague 
playfulness,  the  affected  spellings  and  the  original  idiom  of  Taylor  is 
almost  laughable.  Yet  this  must  be  the  ultimate  test  of  translation; 
and  under  that  test  Taylor's  Nathan  fails1. 

R.  Dillon  Boylan,  in  collaboration  with  H.  G.  Bohn2,  produced  the 
next  translation.  It  owes  much  to  Taylor — even  some  of  its  mistakes, 
as  we  have  already  seen.  Sometimes  there  is  mere  copying,  as  in 
Act  in,  sc.  x,  'it  vibrates  not  responsive.'  Yet  Boylan  or  Bohn,  or  both, 
have  on  the  whole  improved  on  Taylor;  the  latter's  peculiarities  are 
generally  avoided  without  injury  to  the  Shakespearean  flavour  of  the  poem. 

About  the  next  translation,  that  of  Reich,  it  is  difficult  to  speak 
seriously.  '  Es  gehort  wirklich  eine  rare  Stirne  dazu,  in  einer  fremden 
Sprache,  die  man  nicht  vollkommen  versteht,  Verse  zu  machen3.' 
Reich's  '  rare  Stirne '  makes  '  es  sei  denn,  dass '  '  it  be  then  that '  (Act  I, 
sc.  ii),  perpetrates  the  Teutonic  impossibility  'that  our  dear  Lord 
Himself  has  been  a  Jew '  (Act  IV,  sc.  vii)  and  absurdities  like  '  Well, 
Knight?  You  turn  your  face  off?'  (Act  ill,  sc.  ii).  'You  startle?' 
(Ihr  stutzt  ? — Act  v,  sc.  viii).  '  I  will  not  be  refined '  ('  Ich  will  nicht 
fein  sein ' — Act  iv,  sc.  i).  There  is  hardly  a  page  without  some  offence 
to  English  idiom  :  one  even  doubts  sometimes  if  Reich  really  understood 
the  original.  The  first  and  other  examples  above  would  seem  to  cast 
such  a  doubt. 

1  There  is  here,  perhaps,  some  small  danger  of  misunderstanding.     The  present  writer 
yields  to  none  in  his  admiration  for  Taylor,  and  finds  his  style,  quaint  as  it  is,  extremely 
fresh  and  delightful.     Yet  no  worse  translator  for  Lessing  can  be  conceived  than  a  man 
mystic  and  imaginative,  prolific  indeed  in  ideas,  yet  diffuse  and  apparently  incapable  of 
ordered   and   long   continued   thought.      His   affectations   and  neologisms   are   severely 
censured   by   G.   E.  Griffiths  in  a  letter  to  Taylor  dated  Feb.  16,  1799  (Robberds,  i, 
pp.  195 — 202),  and  by  Southey  (ibid.,  i,  p.  452).     Taylor  vigorously  defended  himself 
(ibid.,  i,  p.  228,  and  Monthly  Magazine,  xii,  '  Counterplaint ').     Some  of  Griffiths'  objec- 
tions are  absurd:  e.g.,  he  censures  'rehabilitated'  as  'not  English.'     He  was  a  son  of 
Dr  E.  Griffiths,  editor  of  the  Monthly  Magazine,  for  which  Taylor  wrote.     In  Eobberds 
(i,  pp.  209—11)  will  be  found  also  Dr  Aikin's  gentle  reproaches.     For  a  delightful  example 
of  Taylor's  original  style  see  Robberds,  i,  p.  417. 

2  So  says  Lowndes,  Bibliographical  Manual,  2nd  ed.,  London,  1864. 

3  Litteraturbriefe,  39. 


208  Lessing  in  England 

Willis,  being  an  Englishman,  naturally  was  more  successful  than 
Reich ;  but  he  was  sometimes  even  less  intelligent.  What,  for  instance, 
shall  we  say  of  a  translator  who  could  thus  render  Recha's  outburst 
'  Wem  eignet  Gott  ? '  etc.  (Act  in,  sc.  i) : 

Who  may  compare  with  God  ?    What  God  were  he 
Whom  man  might  measure  him  withal  ? 

There  is  no  excuse  for  such  a  blunder.  Willis  translated  several  medical 
works  from  the  German1.  Let  us  hope  he  killed  no  trustful  readers  by 
such  sheer  misinterpretations  of  the  original.  There  are  occasional  sins 
against  taste,  too :  the  Templar's  '  Kaufe  nichts '  (Act  I,  sc.  vi)  was 
meant  to  be  a  rude  and  blunt  rebuff;  and  'I  am  no  buyer — I  lack 
nothing'  is  just  simply  not  a  translation.  Again,  in  Act  v,  sc.  vi 
Willis  interpolates  a  metrical  version  of:  'Der  aus  Buchern  erworbene 
Reichtum  fremder  Erfahrung  heisst  Gelehrsamkeit.  Eigene  Erfahrung 
ist  Weisheit.  Das  kleinste  Kapital  von  dieser  ist  mehr  wert  als 
Millionen  von  jener2'  without  apparent  excuse.  He  occasionally  falls 
into  the  baldest  literalism;  e.g.,  Act  n,  sc.  ix:  'gleichwohl  gait  es 
keine  taube  Nuss,'  'and  yet  the  stake  was  no  such  hollow  nut.' 
Willis  evidently  chose  Byron  as  his  model  rather  than  Shakespeare. 
Yet  Lessing's  verses  go  better  into  a  Shakespearean  mould  than  into 
any  other.  Boylan  and  Maxwell  both  appreciated  this  fact,  and  as 
a  result  produced  more  successful  versions. 

The  Nathan  of  E.  S.  H.  is  apparently  the  work  of  a  lady3.  It  is  in 
prose  and  avowedly  abridged :  in  point  of  fact,  it  contains  a  great  deal 
that  is  not  Lessing  at  all.  Though  the  book  is  thoroughly  below  serious 
criticism,  a  few  extracts  must  be  given  to  show  reason  for  so  short  a 
notice  here.  Thus  (Act  v,  sc.  iv)  '  sie  ist  so  schlecht  und  recht,'  etc., 
becomes  "Tis  so  monotonous:  One  page  just  like  another — and  so 
ugly  ! '  Here  is  Recha's  penultimate  speech  in  Act  III,  sc.  iii.  '  Bring 
thy  embroidery.  How  tastefully  these  golden  leaves  are  wrought !  My 
fingers  cannot  even  yet  compete  with  thine.'  After  which  follows  a 
correct  rendering  of  the  real  speech.  From  a  purely  theatrical  point  of 
view  the  condensation  of  speeches  is  not  always  unhappily  managed : 
e.g.,  Recha's  account  of  Daja's  prayer  in  the  ruined  chapel  (Act  v,  sc.  vi) : 
but  the  abridgments  frequently  result  in  less  than  a  paraphrase,  entirely 
marring  the  poet's  meaning :  e.g.,  Nathan's  speech  in  Act  I,  sc.  i,  '  ich 
iiberdenke  mir,'  etc. 

1  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  art.  Kobert  Willis ;  Lancet,  1878. 

2  Lachmann's  Edition,  xi,  ii,  p.  402  (from  '  Selbstbetrachtungen,'  etc.). 

3  See  list  of  translations,  which  will  be  appended  to  the  concluding  instalment  of  this 
paper. 


SYDNEY   H.    KENWOOD  209 

Victor  Hugo  would  probably  have  called  Andrew  Wood  '  1'homme  a 
1'inversion'  and  thus  have  damned  him.  The  following  few  examples 
will  show  if  such  were  his  deserts : 

Then  write  at  once 
To  our  old  friendship  of  divorce  a  bill !     (Act  I,  sc.  iii.) 

He  concludes 
That  God  for  great  things  must  have  you  preserved.    (Act  i,  sc.  v.) 

And  if 

They  in  a  hurry  haply  could  a  chance 
Of  us  successfully  attacking  get.     (Act  u,  sc.  i.) 

Why  must  I  the  poor  girl  have  so  to  risk  exposed.     (Act  v,  sc.  v.) 

I  need 

Regarding  that  only  to  her  myself 
Excuse.     (Act  v,  sc.  v.) 

That  she  a  mother  let  me  miss  so  little.     (Act  v.  sc.  vi.) 

Wood  may  be  said  entirely  to  lack  real  poetic  sense.  The  best  that 
can  be  said  of  his  work  is  that  it  is  fairly  correct — small  praise  indeed 
for  a  work  of  art. 

Corbett's  translation  is  good  and  correct;  but  he  has  not  the  art 
of  the  unobtrusive  cheville.  His  work  contains  some  awkward  in- 
versions; e.g., 

the  proper  Dervish 
Would  not  allow  one  aught  of  him  to  make.     (Act  i,  sc.  iii.) 

But  here  he  shows  a  great  advance  on  Wood.  His  expression  is 
sometimes  most  unhappy :  e.g., 

the  greatest  miracle 

Is  that  the  real  true  miracles  should  become 
So  commonplace  and  cannot  otherwise.     (Act  i,  sc.  ii.) 

Jacks  is  generally  correct :  but  he  is  a  writer  of  most  clumsy  and 
unmusical  verse.  In  his  preface  he  says  that  he  did  not  feel  '  bound  by 
rigid  rules  of  dramatic  versification  as  long  as  the  language  flowed 
smoothly ' — which  it  very  rarely  does.  He  has  an  irritating  habit  of 
making  enjambement  unpleasant  by  ending  the  line  with  an  article  or 
other  unemphatic  word.  Examples  will  be  found  below.  Besides  those 
borrowed  from  Taylor  two  bad  mistakes  occur:  in  Act  I,  sc.  ii,  the 
passage:  'ein  Mensch,  wie  die  Natur  sie  taglich  gewahrt'  stands  as 
'  a  man  of  nature's  daily  nourishing,'  the  translator  having  possibly  read 
'gewahrt'  as  'ernahrt';  and  in  Act  I,  sc.  vi,  'Sina'  is  'Sinai.'  Here 
are  a  few  examples  of  the  abuse  mentioned  above : 

Contains  your 
Cloister  many  such  as  you?     (Act  i,  sc.  v.) 

Good  brother,  if  I  but  knew  the 
Inner  contents  of  this  letter.     (Act  i,  sc.  v.) 

M.  L.  R.  IX.  14 


210  Lessing  in  England 

and  knows  a 

Secret,  potent  word,  which  makes  their 
Seals  unloose.     (Act  n,  sc.  iii.) 

It  cannot,  of  course,  be  supposed  that  the  poetic  taste  which  dictated 
such  passages  can  be  even  mediocre.  If  a  translator  is  not  prepared  to 
obey  the  '  rigid  rules  of  versification '  he  has  no  business  to  write  verses 
at  all.  Jacks,  without  a  tithe  of  Taylor's  talent,  has  tried  to  do  as  he 
did — to  impress  his  own  image  and  superscription  on  Lessing. 

It  is  pleasant  to  turn  at  last  to  a  worthy  English  Nathan  of  our  own 
day.  Maxwell  is  a  tasteful,  a  reverent  and  a  correct  translator,  though 
he  is  occasionally  wrong.  For  example,  Al-Hafi's  '  trotz  einem  '  in  Act  I, 
sc.  iii,  is  not:  'just  as  much  as  e'er  another,'  while  British  lack  of 
practice  in  tutoiement  is  no  doubt  responsible  for : 

come,  let  me  hug  thee,  man  : 
I  hope  at  least  I  still  may  call  you  friend. 

In  Act  II,  sc.  ii,  we  meet  with  an  extraordinary  paraphrase  which  would 
seem  without  reason  or  authority : 

Ich  nicht.     Ich  denke,  dass  ich  hier  sie  in 
Empfang  soil  nehmen. 

Not  I  :  but  yet  I  thought  they  must  have  come 
And  that  belike  you  now  had  sent  for  me 
To  take  them  over. 

The  statement  in  the  note  to  p.  255  is  highly  arguable :  but  these 
are  only  trifles,  and  more  than  outweighed  by  the  real  merits  of  the 
work.  Maj.-Gen.  Maxwell's  Minna  has  already  been  referred  to :  it  is  a 
later  work  than  his  Nathan,  and  not  quite  so  successful.  He  should 
not  spend  his  time  on  prose  while  our  other  translators  find  it  so 
difficult  to  produce  good  English  iambics !  Let  any  speech  of  some 
length  be  compared  in  the  versions  of  Keich,  Willis,  Jacks,  Corbett  and 
Maxwell.  The  result  will  cheer  those  inclined  to  mourn  past  standards 
and  lost  art. 

(d)     Laokoon. 

In  Goedeke  (2nd  ed.,  iv,  p.  144)  used  to  stand  'Laokoon.  Ins 
Englische  1767  8vo.'  Many  have  tried  to  guess  on  what  authority  the 
statement  was  made.  Haney's  conjecture1,  that  it  was  a  result  of  the 
translated  title  in  the  Monthly  Review  notice,  seems  most  reasonable. 
The  partial  translation  by  Thomas  de  Quincey  in  Blackwood's  Magazine 
for  1826  and  1827  seems  to  have  been  the  first  appearance  of  Laokoon 

1  Americana  Germanica,  iv  (1902),  p.  142. 


SYDNEY    H.    KENWOOD  211 

in  English.  Ross's  version,  which  G.  H.  Lewes  called  '  an  inestimable 
book  to  English  readers1/  was  published  in  1836,  and  is  mentioned  as 
rare  in  America  by  a  writer  in  the  American  Whig  for  1851. 
E.  C.  Beasley's  followed  in  1853.  In  1874  appeared  two  translations, 
the  American  and  more  correct  by  Ellen  Frothingham,  the  English  and 
more  interesting  by  Sir  R.  Phillimore.  We  can  forgive  the  mistakes  of 
the  latter  (they  have  already  been  pointed  out  and  censured,  none  too 
gently2)  in  virtue  of  a  very  useful  and  painstaking  introduction,  to 
which  we  shall  have  to  refer  at  some  length  in  the  next  section  of  this 
article.  Miss  Frothingham's  work  is  good  here  and  in  Nathan,  so  also 
is  that  of  Ronnfeldt,  whom  Goedeke  calls  '  Ronnefeldt '  with  unusual 
inexactitude  for  the  new  edition,  at  least. 

(e)     Other  Translations. 

The  Hamburgische  Dramaturgic  was  long  in  gaining  a  hearing  in 
England ;  and  even  now  we  have  only  one  fairly  .complete  translation, 
that  by  Helen  Zimmern,  1879.  Ronnfeldt  gives  a  selection — a  mere 
collection  of  aphorisms.  The  work  was  notoriously  unknown  when 
J.  Sully 's  essay  on  it  appeared3;  the  Cornhill*  could  truthfully  call  this 
*  the  only  account  of  it  in  our  literature.'  Taylor  must  have  been  well 
acquainted  with  the  book :  but  for  some  reason  its  greatness  does  not 
seem  to  have  struck  him.  Indeed,  his  little-known  epigram5  might  be 
held  to  prove  a  low  opinion  if  epigrams  could  be  thought  to  prove 
anything.  Mackenzie  mentions  'le  dramaturgic  de  Hambourg,'  and 
adds :  '  His  plays,  accordingly,  though  not  exactly  conformable  to  the 
Aristotelian  standard,  approach  pretty  near  to  it  in  the  observation  of 
the  unities.  He  is  said  to  have  got  into  a  dispute  with  Goethe  on  this 
subject,  in  which,  from  a  degree  of  timidity  [!]  in  his  nature,  he  rather 
yielded  to  his  antagonist.'  William  Preston6,  girding  against  the 
'  Gothic '  elements  in  the  German  tragedy  of  1802,  says  (p.  33),  '  The 
German  language  was  improving  rapidly  under  the  culture  of  Gessner7, 

1  The  Inner  Life  of  Art,  in  The  Principles  of  Success  in  Literature,  Scott  Library, 
London. 

2  See  list  of  translations. 

3  Sensation  and  Intuition,  London,  1874,  pp.  312 — 35.. 

4  xxxvm  (1878),  pp.  189—206. 

5  'Lessing  comments  Aristotle  as  divines  the  Bible;  so  as  to  extort  his  own  critical 
opinions  from  the  oracle/     (Monthly  Magazine,  1801  (ii),  p.  224.) 

6  Reflections  on  the  Peculiarities  of  Style  and  Manner  in  the  late  German  Writers,  in 
Transactions  of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy,  vin  (1802),  pp.  15  f. 

7  Gessner  was  a  great  man  to  the  eighteenth  century  English  critic ;  Anne  Plumptre 
has  a  phrase  '  Lessing,  and  even  Gessner.'     At  p.  61  of  Preston's  paper  he  is  again  put 
before  Lessing.     Blair  (Lectures,  in,  p.  123)  calls  him  the  most  successful  of  the  moderns 
in  pastoral  poetry. 

14—2 


212  Lessing  in  England 

Wieland  and  Lessing,  and  would  have  received  the  polish  and  perfection 
requisite  to  make  it  classical,  had  succeeding  writers  trod  in  their  foot- 
steps :  but  the  temperate  and  judicious  manner,  the  chaste  simplicity, 
and  sober  graces  introduced  by  them,  and  formed  on  a  study  of  the 
antique,  did  not  satisfy  the  aspiring  writers  of  the  new  School.'  Henry 
Maty,  in  his  New  Review  for  1785  (vm,  p.  106),  has  evidently  not  seen 
the  book  if  we  may  take  his  silence  as  proof.  Blackwood's  Magazine, 
xviii  (1825),  p.  286,  has  a  notice  of  the  Hamburgische  Dramaturgic : 
and  from  then  on  most  authoritative  reviews  of  Lessing  have  at  least 
some  mention  of  it. 

It  may  here  be  noted  that  the  book  under  consideration  supplies  at 
least  two  of  the  passages  by  which  Lessing  is  known  to  the  English 
public  in  the  same  sense  as  Chaucer  is  known  by  the  '  French  of  Paris ' 
line  from  the  Prologue.  The  passages  from  the  Dramaturgic  are  the 
hackneyed  and  misunderstood  renunciation  of  claims  to  poetic  genius 
and  the  comparison  between  Aristotle  and  Euclid.  Together  with  the 
'  Offer  of  Truth '  from  the  Duplik,  one  or  two  of  the  Axiomata  out  of 
their  setting,  and  the  story  of  the  rings  from  Nathan,  they  recur  with 
nauseating  persistence  in  the  essays  of  those  engaged  to  'write  up' 
almost  unknown  Lessing  for  some  special  occasion. 

Of  smaller  works  Wie  die  Alien  den  Tod  gebildet,  translated  by 
E.  C.  Beasley,  appeared  along  with  the  Hamburgische  Dramaturgic  in 
1879,  its  first  and  last  appearance.  The  Faust  fragment  was  included 
in  Lord  F.  Leveson-Gower's  translation  of  Goethe's  great  work.  In 
Macmillan's  Magazine1  the  seventeenth  Litteraturbrief  is  in  great  part 
translated  in  an  article  on  Lessing's  Faust  by  T.  B.  Saunders.  Die 
Erziehung  des  Menschengeschlechts  was  done  into  excellent  English  by 
the  great  F.  W.  Robertson,,  of  Brighton,  in  1858.  The  earlier  version 
by  Crabb  Robinson  is  included  in  the  list  of  translations. 

(To  be  concluded.) 

SYDNEY  H.  KENWOOD. 

GRESFORD. 

1  LXII  (1890),  pp.  180—8. 


NOTES  ON  LESSING'S  'BEYTRAGE  ZUR  HISTORIE 
UND  AUFNAHME  DES  THEATERS1.' 

III.    TRANSLATIONS  FROM  THE  FRENCH  AND  ITALIAN. 

(a)     Voltaire  s  'Lettres  Anglaises! 

THIS  translation  of  two  of  the  Lettres  anglaises  is  generally  attributed 
— on  what  ground,  I  do  not  know — to  Mylius2 ;  but  the  ascription  may 
stand.  There  are  expressions  and  phrases  in  the  translation  which, 
no  doubt,  recall  Mylius  rather  than  Lessing;  Voltaire's  description 
of  Dryden  as  an  'auteur  plus  fecond  que  judicieux '  is,  for  instance, 
rendered :  '  Er  war  ein  Schrifbsteller  von  mehr  Witz  als  Beurtheilungs- 
kraft,'  a  frequently  repeated  phrase  in  the  article  with  which  Mylius 
opened  the  Beytrage.  The  translation,  which  was  not  the  first  into 
German3,  was  made  from  either  the  Amsterdam  edition  of  Voltaire's 
(Euvres  (1738 — 39,  Vol.  iv),  or,  with  greater  probability,  from  the  Geneva 
edition  of  the  (Euvres  melees  (1742,  Vol.  iv)4,  and  is  fluent  and,  on  the 
whole,  literal. 

Whether  we  be  convinced  of  Mylius's  handiwork  in  the  translation 
or  not,  it  is  perhaps  open  to  question,  if  he  is  to  be  held  responsible  for 
the  two  footnotes  which  are  added  to  the  translation.  The  first  of  these  : 

Weil  der  Herr  von  Voltaire  beynahe  der  einzige  ist,  der  unter  seinen  Laudsleuten 
unparteyisch  und  vortheilhaft  von  der  Schaubiihne  der  Englarider  geurtheilet  hat, 
so  haben  wir  fur  billig  gehalten  seiner  Urtheile  und  Nachrichten  davon  uns  zuerst 
zu  bedienen.  So  riihmlich  den  Englandern  der  Beyfall  des  Herrn  von  Voltaire  ist, 
so  wenig  nachtheilig  konnen  ihnen  die  seichten  und  imgegrundeten  Spottereyen  des 
Abbe  le  Blanc  seyn  (p.  96), 

1  Continued  from  Modern  Language  Review,  vol.  vm  (October,  1913),  p.  532. 

2  Cp.  Muncker,  Schriften,  iv,  p.  82;    Consentius,  A.D.B.,  LII,  p.  553;   E.  Schmidt, 
Lessing,  i3,  pp.  177  f.,  although  in  the  preface  to  his  edition  of  Lessings  Ubersetzungen  aus 
dem  Franzosischen  Friedrichs  des  Grossen  und  lroltaires  (p.  v),  the  last-mentioned  is  inclined 
to  think  that  Lessing  might  have  been  responsible  for  the  present  translation. 

3  '  Man  hat  zwar  schon  eine  Uebersetzung  dieser  Gedanken  in  der  Sammlung  ver- 
schiedener  Briefe  des  H.  von  Voltair,  die  Engellander  und  andere  Sachen  betreffend.     Aus 
dem  Franzosischen  iibersetzt  und  mit  einigen  Anmerkungen  begleitet  von  N**.     Jena 
1747.  8.  S.  273 — 300.     Allein  jene  hat  den  Vorzug  von  dieser  und  ist  mit  einer  Critick 
begleitet'  (Berlinische  Bibliothek,  iv,  i,  p.  137). 

4  Cp.  G.  Lanson's  critical  edition  of  the  Lettres  philosophiques,  Paris,  1909. 


214       Notes  on  Lessing's  'Beytrage  zur  Historic,'  etc. 

is  of  little  significance  and  is  only  an  echo  of  condemnatory  reviews 
of  the  Abbe  le  Blanc's  Lettres  sur  les  Anglois  et  Francois  in 
Gottsched's  Neuer  Buchersaal,  vn  and  vm  (1748 — 49).  But  it  is 
tempting  to  trace  in  the  general  style  and  in  the  rhetorical  questions  of 
the  second  note  Lessing's  hand  rather  than  Mylius's1.  The  note — 
I  quote  it  at  length  as  having  a  certain  intrinsic  interest — is  sug- 
gested by  Voltaire's  reference  to  Plautus  and  Aristophanes  at  the 
end  of  the  letter  on  Comedy  (pp.  108  f.) : 

Es  ist  in  der  That  kein  allzuriihmliches  Gestandniss,  welches  der  Herr  von 
Voltaire  hier  thut.  Man  kann  sicher  daraus  schliessen,  dass  er  weder  den  Plautus 
noch  den  .Aristophanes  gelesen  hat.  Ein  Gelehrter  kann  sich  eben  sowohl  zu  einem 
Griechen  oder  Romer  machen,  als  er  etwa  ein  Deutscher  oder  ein  Franzose  ist.  Hat 
man  denn  nicht  Hiilfsmittel  genug,  die  Sitten,  die  Gebrauche  und  die  Charaktere 
sowohl  der  Griechen  als  der  Romer,  kennen  zu  lernen  ?  Freylich,  wer  den  Aristo- 
phanes, zum  Exempel,  lesen  will,  ohne  eine  genaue  Kenntniss  der  damaligen 
Staatsverfassung  in  Athen  zu  haben,  der  wird  ihn  bald  mit  Verdruss  aus  den 
Handen  legen.  Allein  es  ist  ja  seine  eigne  Schuld.  Wer  sich  iibrigens  die  Miihe  nimmt, 
auch  die  Scholiasten  dieses  Poeten  mit  zu  lesen,  der  wird  sich  gewiss  nicht 
beschweren  diirfen,  dass  ihm  eine  Anspielung,  oder  sonst  eine  merkwiirdige  Stelle 
dunkel  geblieben  sey.  So  viel  raume  ich  ein,  dass  freylich  der  Herr  von  Voltaire 
mehr  Vergniigen  in  Lesung  eines  franzosischen  und  englischen  Lustspieles  finden 
wird,  als  in  einem  romischen  oder  griechischen,  aber  gewiss  aus  keiner  andern 
Ursache,  als  weil  er  jene  mit  weniger  Miihe  hat  verstehen  lernen,  als  zum  Verstand- 
niss  dieser  erfodert  wird.  Gehoret  denn  iibrigens  die  Abschilderung  eines  Geizigen, 
eines  Prahlers,  eines  Schmarotzers,  nicht  eben  sowohl  alien  Volkern,  als  Oedipus 
und  Elektra  1  Die  Scherze  und  Anspielungen  sind  ja  auch  nicht  dasjenige,  was  uns 
in  einem  Lustspiele  am  meisten  vergniigen  muss.  Findet  denn  der  Herr  von 
Voltaire  kein  Vergniigen  an  sinnreichen  Verwicklungen,  an  ausgesuchten  und 
wohlangebrachten  LehrSpriichen,  an  beissenden  Verspottungen  der  Laster  ?  Diese 
sind  bey  alien  Volkern  einerley,  und  nur  in  der  Art  sich  zu  zeigeu,  andern  sie  sich 
etwas  weniges.  Das  beste  isj,  dass  das,  was  der  Herr  von  Voltaire  hier  sagt,  nur 
das  Bekenntniss  seines  eignen  Geschmacks  ist,  und  dass  niernand  verbunden  ist, 
den  seinigen  darnach  zu  verbessern. 

Remembering,  however,  Mylius's  preoccupation  with  Aristophanes,  a 
few  years  before2,  I  do  not  think  there  is  sufficient  ground  to  deprive 
him  of  the  notes  to  his  own  translation. 


(6)     Corneille  s  '  Trois  DiscoursJ 

A  comparison  of  the  translations  of  the  three  Discours  of  Corneille 
reveals  a  noticeable  difference  in  quality  between  that  of  the  first  and 
those  of  the  other  two ;  and  this  difference  is  borne  out  by  the  fact  that 
the  first  was  evidently  translated  from  the  1663  Paris  edition  of  the 
Theatre  de  Corneille  (or  a  Dutch  reprint  of  it),  the  translator's  original 

1  E.  Schmidt  also,  I  find,  hints  at  the  possibility  of  Lessing's  authorship. 

'  Beurtheilung  des  Plutus  des  Aristophanes,'  in  Bemiihungen  zur  Bef  order ung  der 
Critik  und  des  guten  Geschmacks,  i  (Halle,  1744),  pp.  420  ff.  Cp.  Lessing's  Schriften,  vi, 
p.  404. 


J.    G.    ROBERTSON 


215 


of  a  characteristic  passage  running :  '  Je  hasarderai  quelque  chose  sur 
trente  ans,'  while  the  final  editions  have  'cinquante1.'  On  the  other 
hand,  for  the  last  Discours  a  later  edition  was  clearly  used,  or  at  least 
consulted2.  I  should  not,  however,  like  to  say  that  the  differences  are 
sufficient  to  justify  us  in  inferring  that  they  were  by  different  hands  ;  it 
is  perhaps  enough  to  assume  that  they  were  made  at  different  times, 
the  first  suffering  probably  from  lack  of  experience  on  the  translator's 
part. 

On  the  whole,  the  translation  is  a  good  one,  and  in  the  second  and 
third  sections,  at  least,  superior  to  that  of  Voltaire's  Letters.  If,  conse- 
quently, Mylius  is  the  translator  of  Voltaire,  as  seems  probable,  the 
Corneille  translation  cannot  be  by  him,  and  the  question  is,  can  Lessing 
himself — the  other  'Verfasser'  of  the  Beytrdge — be  claimed  as  the 
author  ?  It  appears  to  me  extremely  probable.  But  it  is  difficult  to 
find  anything  to  support — or  refute — this  impression  in  the  text  itself3; 
and  the  kind  of  criticism  which  assumes  that  a  translation  must  be 
by  Lessing  because  it  is  superior  to  another  known  to  be  by  Mylius, 
is  to  be  deprecated.  As  a  matter  of  fairness,  there  was  every  reason 
to  expect  that  the  twenty-seven  year  old  Mylius  should  have  turned 
out  better  work  of  this  kind  than  the  inexperienced,  twenty-year 
old  Lessing.  The  first  Discours  shows  peculiar  spellings  of  proper  names 
(e.g.  '  Rodegune,'  '  Rodrig ') ;  but  the  translator  by  no  means  does  his 
work  mechanically.  For  instance,  on  p.  90,  he  translates  Corneille's 
'  une  nouvelle  sorte  de  personnages,  qu'on  a  appeles  prostatiques,  parce 
qu'ils  ne  paroisserit  que  dans  la  protase '  by :  '  eine  neue  Art  von 
Personen,  die  man  personas  protacticas  oder  prostaticas  nennte,  weil  sie 
nur  in  Trporaaei,  oder  ini  Anfange  des  Stlicks  vorkamen,'  learning  which 
evidently  comes  from  the  preface  to  Donatus's  commentary  on  Terence's 
Andria.  And  Lessing's  familiarity  with  Terence  is  beyond  question. 

Perhaps  the  best  argument  in  favour  of  Lessing's  authorship  is  to 
be  sought  in  the  fact  that,  seventeen  years  later  in  Hamburg,  when  he 
had  occasion  to  discuss  Corneille  in  the  Dramaturgic,  he  turned  to  this 
old  translation,  and  quoted  it,  often  with  very  little  alteration  or 


1  Eegnier's  edition,  i,  p.  16;  Beytrfiye,  p.  56. 
1660:   P.  59  '  befiirchten,'  'craindre'  (1660:  '  prendre  garde');  P.  64  'ersetzen,' 


Other  variants  exclude  the  edition  of 

sup- 
pleer'  (1660  :   'reparer '). 

3  E.g.  p.  551  'Ammon'  (in  the  early  editions:  'Timante');  cp.  also  p.  556  with 
Kegnier,  p.  107. 

3  I  need  hardly  refer  to  the  suggestion  made  in  Klotz's  Deutsche  Bibliothek,  iv  (1769), 
p.  507,  that  Lessing  must  have  translated  the  second  Discours  because  he  uses  the  phrase 
'  Mitleiden  und  Furcht,'  but  this,  as  Danzel  has  shown  (p.  176),  was  the  obvious  translation 
of  Corneille's  '  pitie  et  crainte.' 


216       Notes  on  Leasing  s  'Beytraye  zur  Historic,'  etc. 

improvement,  in  some  cases  quite  literally1.  Would  he  have  done  this, 
or,  indeed,  have  remembered  the  translation  in  the  Beytrdge  at  all,  had 
it  not  been  his  own  ? 


(c)     Riccoboni  s  '  L'Art  du  Theatre.' 

I  have  virtually  nothing  to  add  to  Boxberger's  plea  for  Lessing's 
authorship  of  this  translation  in  the  Hempel  edition2,  which  is  con- 
vincing. He  bases  his  claim  on  the  character  of  the  translation3,  which 
is  quite  on  a  level  with  that  of  the  Discours  of  Corneille,  and  on  Lessing's 
letter  to  his  father  of  November  2,  1750,  where  he  says:  'Ich  habe... 
das  ganze  vierte  Stuck  der  theatr.  Beytrage  besorgen  mtissen,  was 
eigentlich  schon  diese  Messe  hatte  sollen  fertig  werden,  und  diese 
Arbeit  hat  mich  bis  an  vergangnen  Sonnabend  nicht  liber  eine  Stunde 
Herr  seyn  lassen4.'  Had  Lessing  not  been  the  translator  of  Riccoboni — 
or,  one  might  add,  the  third  Discours  of  Corneille — Boxberger  reasons, 
his  work  on  the  fourth  part  would  have  been  too  slight  to  have  been 
referred  to  in  such  terms. 

The  title  of  the  original  work  is :  L'Art  du  Theatre.    A  Madame  ***. 
Par  Frangois  Riccoboni.     Paris,  1750.     8vo.     102  pp.,  and  a  review  of 
it  appeared  in  the  Berlinische  priv.  Zeitung,  88.  Stuck  (July  23,  1750)5 
presumably  by  Lessing,  a  passage  being  cited  there  from  the  present 
translation. 

(d)     Macchiavelli  s  'Clitia! 

This  is  one  of  the  few  contributions  to  the  Beytrdge,  the  authorship 
of  which  is  quite  beyond  doubt.  It  is  by  Mylius.  In  the  '  Vorbericht 
des  Uebersetzers,'  which  was  of  fatal  significance  for  the  future  of  the 
journal,  Mylius  apologised  for  offering  this  translation  by  saying :  '  Fragt 
man  mich,  warum  ich  nicht  lieber  ein  gutes,  als  ein  mittelmassiges 
Stuck  gewahlet  habe  ?  so  bitte  ich,  mir  erst  ein  gutes  Stuck  von  dem 
italienischen  Theater  zu  nennen.  Ich  weis  die  Antwort  hierauf,  ohne 
sie  zu  horen.  Man  wird  sagen:  so  hatte  ich  ja  das  Uebersetzen  aus  dem 

1  Cp.  particularly  the  Corneille  quotations  in  Stuck  75,  82  and  83  of  the  Dramaturgic 
with  the  Beytrdge,  pp.  221  f.,  215,  224  ff. 

2  Vol.  xi,  part  i,  pp.  xv  f. 

3  F.  L.  W.  Meyer  in  his  Schroder  (n,  2,  p.  181),  speaks  of  this  translation  as  one  'die 
Lessing  ungliicklicherweise  seinem  zu  fliichtigen  und  dem  Gegenstande  nicht  gewachsenen 
Mitarbeiter  iiberliess ' ;  but  the  fact  that  Schroder  himself  was  the  author  of  a  version  of 
Riccoboni's  book  had  no  doubt  something  to  do  with  Meyer's  depreciation  of  Lessing's. 
Goedeke  also  thought  that  Mylius  had  written  it,  and  saw  in  it  one  of  the  reasons  for  the 
breaking-off  of  the  partnership. 

4  Schriften,  xvn,  p.  20. 

6  Schriften,  iv,  pp.  198  f.     The  book  was  very  generally  noticed  by  the  French  reviews. 


J.    G.    ROBERTSON  217 

italienischen  Theater  gar  konnen  bleiben  lassen.'  Mylius,  however,  was 
here  merely  expressing  an  opinion  which  was  universally  held  by  the 
French  critics.  D'Aubignac,  for  instance,  had  said  :  '  II  ne  faut  pas  dire 
non  plus  que  la  Comedie  des  Italiens  ait  pris  la  place  de  celles  de  Plaute 
et  de  Terence,  car  ils  n'en  ont  garde  ny  la  matiere  ny  la  forme.... Et  ie 
m'estonne  comment  il  est  arrive  que  les  enfans  des  Latins  soient  si  peu 
scavans  en  1'Art  de  leurs  Peres1.'  While  Lessing,  who,  at  this  time, 
knew  little  more  about  the  Italian  comedy  than  Mylius,  merely  based 
his  indignation  on  the  fact  that  Riccoboni  wrote  his  Histoire  du  Theatre 
italien  in  French  with  a  view  to  refuting  just  such  opinions.  Riccoboni 
says,  for  instance,  in  that  work2: 

La  Clitia  est  prise  de  la  Casina  de  Plaute,  mais  la  Mandragola  est^toute  de 
1'invention  de  1'Auteur  :  c'est  une  des  bonnes  Comedies  que  nous  ai'ons,  mais  je  ne 
voudrois  pas  dire  qu'elle  fut  la  meilleure.  Parmi  un  nombre  de  tres-bonnes  Comedies 
qui  sont  dans  mon  Catalogue,  il  y  en  a  plusieurs  qui  pourroient  lui  disputer  cet 
avantage  et  meme  1'emporter.  Un  Auteur  Fran9ois  s'est  hazarde  de  dire  dans  un 
Livre  imprime  depuis  quelques  annees,  que  les  Italiens  n'ont  d'autre  Comedies  que 
la  Mandragola  :  il  seroit  a  souhaiter  qu'il  eut  lu  les  bonnes  Pieces  de  ce  Catalogue, 
il  n'auroit  pas  dit  que  la  Mandragola  est  la  seule  Piece  ni  m§me  la  meilleure  Piece 
que  nous  ai'ons. 

IV.     THE  '  THEATERBERICHTE.' 
(a)     Paris. 

Danzel  expressed  the  opinion  that  this  and  the  subsequent  reports 
on  the  theatre  in  Paris  might  have  been  sent  in  by  J.  Melchior  Grimm, 
with  whom  Mylius  had  come  interpersonal  contact  in  Leipzig3.  Foot- 
notes to  the  two  first  articles4  explain  that  they  are  not  '  von  uns,'  that 
is  to  say,  not  by  Lessing  or  Mylius.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  are 
merely  translations  from  a  new  journal  published  by  Pierre  Gosse  at 
the  Hague  and  entitled :  La  Bigarure,  ou  Meslange  curieux,  instructif 
et  amusant  de  Nouvelles,  de  Critique,  de  Morale,  de  Poesies,  et  autres 
matieres  de  Litterature,  d'Evenements  singuliers  et  extraordinaires, 
d'Avantures  galantes,  d'Histoires  secrettes,  et  de  plusieurs  autres 

1  Le  Pratique  du  Theatre,  Paris,  1657,  n,  ch.  x,  p.  188  ;  or,  for  that  part,  Mylius  may 
be  only  reflecting  Gottsched's  views  (Critische  Dichtkunst,  n,  ch.  xi,  2nd  ed.  (1737),  p.  695) : 
'In  der  That  hat  man  aus  der  Erfahrung  gesehen,  dass  das  italienische  Theater  seit 
etlichen  Jahrhunderten  gar  nichts  kluges   hervorgebracht   hat.     Ihre   besten    Comodien 
enthalten  nichts,  als  Eomanstreiche,  Betriigereyen  der  Diener,  und  unendlich  viel  abge- 
schmackte  Narrenpossen.' 

2  Vol.  i,  pp.  149f. 

3  Vol.  i,  p.  179. 

4  'Wir  haben  diese   Nachrichten  von   guter   Hand.      Die  darinn   gefallten  Urtheile 
kommen  nicht  von  uns,  sondern  selbst  aus  Paris'  (p.  110);  and  '  Wir  erinnern  nochmals, 
dass  die  unter  dieser  Aufschrift  befindlichen  Urtheile  nicht  von  uns  herriihren,  sondern 
aus  Paris  kommen  '  (p.  287). 


218       Notes  on  Lessing's  '  Beytrcige  zur  Historie,1  etc. 

Nouveautes  amusantes,  avec  des  Reflexions  Critiques  sur  chaque  Sujet. 
La  Haye,  1749.  The  extracts  in  the  Beytrdge  are  from  '  Lettres  d'une 
Dame  de  Paris,  a  une  Dame  de  ses  Amies/  that  in  the  '  Erste  Stiick ' 
being  from  the  first  number  of  the  Bigarure,  pp.  8 — 16,  and  from  the 
third  number,  pp.  26  f.  and  29 — 32.  The  article  in  the  second  '  Stuck ' 
comes  mainly  from  No.  6  and  No.  9  of  the  French  journal1. 

While  the  question  as  to  the  actual  translator  of  these  articles, 
whether  Lessing  or  Mylius,  remains  necessarily  undecided,  the  fact  that 
Lessing  was  familiar  with  the  Bigarure  no  doubt  gives  some  reasonable 
ground  for  ascribing  them  to  him.  In  a  review  of  Gottsched's  new 
iournal,  Das  Neueste  aus  der  anmuthigen  Gelehrsamkeit,  in  the  Critische 
Nachrichten  aus  dem  Reiche  der  Gelehrsamkeit,  St.  13,  March  26,  1751 2, 
Lessing — and  there  is,  I  think,  no  reason  to  doubt  his  authorship  of  this 
review — mentions  the  French  journal ;  and  Guhrauer  claimed  for  him 
two  reviews  of  the  Bigarure  in  the  Berlinische  priv.  Zeitung,  St.  133  and 
149  (November  6  and  December  13,  1749)3.  The  second  of  these,  the 
story  of  the  quarrel  between  admirers  of  Voltaire  and  Crebillon,  passed 
over  into  the  Beytrdge. 

The  third  article  on  the  Paris  theatres,  which  does  not  profess  to 
come  from  Paris,  consists  almost  exclusively  of  statistics.  I  have  not 
yet  been  able  to  ascertain  the  source,  but  the  materials  concerning  the 
'  Theatre  italien '  come,  directly  or  indirectly,  from  the  first  volume  of 
L.  Riccoboni's  Le  Nouveau  Theatre  italien,  13  vols.,  Paris  1729  ff.  Here 
again  there  is  no  evidence  to  help  us  to  decide  whether  Lessing  or 
Mylius  was  the  compiler.  4 

(b)     Berlin  (Dresden,  Stuttgart). 

Of  the  notices  of  'Das  Theater  in  Berlin'  Muncker  says4:  'Die 
Nachrichten  Uber  das  Berliner  Theater  erhielt  Lessing  hochstwahrschein- 
lich  auch  schon  in  der  stilistischen  Fassung,  in  der  er  sie  abdruckte,  von 
fremder  Hand,  wofern  nicht  Mylius  sie  geliefert  haben  sollte.  Hochstens 
konnte  Lessing  die  eine  oder  andere  Zwischenbemerkung  darin  einge- 
schaltet  haben.'  And  he  quotes  a  number  of  characteristic  passages5 

1  The  critic  of  the  Berlinische  Bibliothek  remarks  ironically  (Vol.  iv,  i,  p.  138)  : 
'  Theatralische  Neuigkeiten  aus  Paris  ;  von  welchen  die  H.  Verf .  versichern,  dass  sie  solche 
von  guter  Hand  haben ;  vielleicht  haben  sie  solche  hernach  auch  dem  Yerleger  der 
Bigarrtire  mitgetheilet.' 

a  Schriften,  iv,  p.  219.     Cp.  B.  A.  Wagner,  Lessing -Forschun gen,  Berlin,  1881,  p.  157. 

3  Danzel  and  Guhrauer,  i,  pp.  509,  513  f.     Muncker  reprints  these  notices  (iv,  pp.  39  f., 
42  f.),  but  regards  them  as  doubtfully  by  Lessing. 

4  Schriften,  iv,  p.  82. 

5  I  should  be  inclined  to  excerpt  considerably  more  of  the  account  of  Frederick's 
relations  to  the  theatre  (p.  124)  as  characteristic  of  Lessing's  style,  and  from  the  second 


J.    G.    ROBERTSON 


219 


which — if  it  were  a  question  as  to  whether  they  had  been  written  by 
Mylius  or  Lessing — there  could  be  no  difficulty  in  ascribing  to  the 
latter.  Muncker  then  adds  :  '  Ob  Lessing  diese  Worte  geschrieben  hat, 
muss  dahingestellt  bleiben ;  dass  sich  aber  seine  etwaigen  Zuthaten  zu 
dem  Aufsatz  tiber  das  Berliner  Theater  weiter  erstreckt  hatten,  darf 
wohl  entschieden  bezweifelt  werden.' 

In  view  of  the  punctiliousness  with  which  the  editors,  as  we  have 
just  seen,  drew  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  French  articles  were  not 
by  them,  we  might  perhaps  infer  that  the  Berlin  reports  were  written 
either  by  Lessing  or  Mylius.  Further,  the  view  that  Lessing  touched 
up  and  inserted  sentences  into  an  article  by  another  hand  seems  to  me 
extremely  improbable,  not  to  say  unnecessary.  For  what  difficulties 
— assuming  that  the  style  at  times  points  clearly  to  Lessing's"*hand — 
stand  in  the  way  of  ascribing  the  present  articles  entirely  to  Lessing  ? 
The  only  one  seems  to  be  that  they  show  an  interest  in  the  '  unGerman ' 
theatre  of  Berlin,  which  does  not  correspond  with  Lessing's  attitude  in 
later  life.  But  surely  there  was  no  reason  that  the  Lessing  of  1750,  the 
Lessing  who  published  a  journal  in  furtherance  of  Gottsched's  '  Historic 
des  Theaters,'  and  to  whom  it  was  of  vital  concern  to  get  into  touch 
with  influential  circles  in  Berlin,  should  not  have  written  them  ?  '  Wir 
machen,'  the  article  begins, '  in  unsrer  neuesten  Geschichte  des  Theaters 
billig  mit  Berlin  den  Anfang,  da  bekannt  ist,  was  an  dem  dasigen  Hofe 
fur  ein  guter  Geschmack,  wie  in  den  schonen  Wissenschaften  tiberhaupt, 
also  insbesondre  in  Ansehung  des  Theaters  herrschet1.' 

There  is  nothing  to  add  concerning  the  reports  of  the  theatres 
in  Dresden  and  Stuttgart.  They  are,  in  form,  close  imitations  of  the 
Berlin  articles,  and  so  valueless  that  the  question  of  their  authorship 
hardly  matters.  They  may  have  been  put  together  by  Mylius  or 
Lessing  on  the  basis  of  information  received  from  these  places ;  but 
the  Dresden  notice  might  well  have  been  sent  by  H.  A.  Ossenfelder, 
who,  according  to  Reichardt's  Theaterkalender  auf  das  Jahr  17792,  had 
'  Antheil  an  den  Beytragen  zur  Geschichte,'  etc.,  and  the  Stuttgart 
information  may,  with  as  great  probability,  have  been  supplied  or 
obtained  by  the  publisher  there. 

article  a  passage  like  (p.  284)  :  '  Sie  halt  sich  itzo  bey  diesem  gelehrten  Freunde 
auf,  und  sagt  selbst  offentlich,  dass  sie  verheirathet  sey.  An  wen?  Das  ist  leicht  zu 
erachten.  Doch  ist  bey  dieser  Heirath  das  Ceremoniel  nicht  betrachtet  worden.' 

1  Page  123.     Cf.  the  comment  of  the  Berlinische  Bibliothek,  I.e.,  pp.  138  f. 

2  Page  124.     Cp.  Danzel,  i,  p.  58. 


220       Notes  on  Leasing  s  'Beytrdge  zur  Historic,'  etc. 

(c)     Freiberg. 

Karl  Lessing  made  the  following  statement  concerning  the 
*  Nachricht  von  einem  in  Freyberg  aufgefuhrten  Schulschauspiel/  the 
final  item  in  the  Beytrdge :  '  Die  Nachricht  von  einem  in  Freyberg 
aufgefuhrten  Schulschauspiele  des  Rektors  Biedermann,  die  von  dort 
eingeschickt  war,  und  die  Mylius  vermuthlich  ohne  Lessings  Wissen 
einriickte,  tadelte  sein  Vater  nicht  weniger  [i.e.  than  the  review  of 
Gregorius];  den  er  war  ein  Freund  von  diesem  gelehrten  Schulmanne1.' 
And  the  view  has  been  already  referred  to,  that  Mylius's  indiscretion 
brought  about  the  dissolution  of  partnership  between  Lessing  and 
himself2. 

There  are,  however,  several  difficulties  in  the  way  of  accepting 
Karl  Lessing's  statement.  In  the  first  place  the  contribution  is  dated 
'  Freyberg  im  November  1749 ' ;  it  must  consequently  have  been  in  the 
hands  of  the  editors  from  the  very  beginning,  and  could  not  have  been 
unknown  to  Lessing.  In  the  second  place,  we  have  Lessing's  own 
assurance  that  he  had  the  sole  responsibility  of  bringing  out  the  fourth 
part3,  and  consequently  there  could  have  been  no  question  of  the  article 
being  inserted  without  his  knowledge  or  consent.  Further,  if  Lessing's 
connivance  in  the  publication  is  not  to  be  denied,  is  there  any  reason 
to  think  that  Lessing,  who  had  already  shown  little  consideration  in 
attacking  a  scholar  like  Gregorius4,  who  enjoyed  considerable  repute  and 
was,  moreover,  connected  with  Lessing's  own  native  town,  should  have 
hesitated  in  attacking,  in  what  the  Berlinische  Bibliothek  called5  '  eine 
sehr  hamische  und  beissende  Art,  den  gelehrten  und  geschickten 
Recktor  Hrn.  Biedermann.'  If  it  were  a  question  of  justification,  we 
should  be  inclined  to  say  that  there  was,  if  anything,  more  reason  for 
this  attack  than  that  on  Gregorius.  The  contribution  itself,  which 
could  not  possibly  have  been  written  by  either  Lessing  or  Mylius— the 

1  G.  E.  Lessivg's  Lebcn,  Berlin,  1793,  i,  p.  107. 

2  See  vol.  vm,  p.  514.  a  See  above,  p.  216. 

4  As  I  have  nothing  of  importance  to  add  to  what  has  already  been  said  of  Lessing's 
review  of  '  Werenfels'  Rede  zu  Vertheidigung  der  Schauspiele/  it  may  be  disposed  of  in  a 
footnote.     I  have  not  been  able  to  compare  with  Gregorius's  translation   that  in  the 
Critische  Beytriige  vm  (1742),  pp.  598  ff.— it  was  by  Mylius— which  Lessing  claims  as 
superior.     But  to  judge  by  the  criticism  in  Fabricius's  Critische  Bibliothek  (Vol.  n,  St.  2, 
Leipzig,  1750,  pp.  157  ff.)  of  Gregorius's  version  and  Gregorius's  own  defence  in  that  same 
periodical — a  defence  in  which  he  places  a  page  of  his  own  translation  side  by  side  with 
Mylius's— Lessing  was   somewhat  prejudiced  in  favour  of  his  colleague.     Possibly  this 
controversy  might  be  brought  into  connection  with  Lessing's  attack ;  Gregorius's  reply  is 
dated  '  20  des  Heumonats,  1750.'    A  note  might  be  added  to  p.  178,  11.  28  ff. ,  to  the  effect 
that  the  opera,  II  Sogno  di  Scipione  is  discussed  in  the  Neue  Biichersaal,  Vol.  n  (1746), 
St.  4,  pp.  359  ff.,  '  Platon's  Urtheil  von  der  Poesie '  in  St.  5,  pp.  416  ff. 

5  Vol.  iv,  St.  vi,  p.  824. 


J.    G.    ROBERTSON 


221 


jocose  style  is  entirely  foreign  to  either — is  introduced  by  a  prefatory 
note  which  I  would  like  to  claim  for  Lessing  himself: 

Wir  riicken  folgenden  Anfsatz  von  diesem  Schulschauspiele  so  em,  wie  wir  ihn 
aus  Freyberg  erhalten  haben.  Das  Schauspiel  selbst  haben  ^dr  auch  gedrukt  und 
geschrieben  gesehen.  Da  es  nichts  von  einem  Schauspiel,  als  einige  geringe  Zufallig- 
keiten,  an  sich  hat,  so  haben  wir  es  nicht  fiir  wiirdig  gehalten,  desselben  in  unserer 
Monatschrift  zu  gedenken.  Weil  aber  doch  unsere  Absicht  die  Aufnahme  des 
Theaters  ist,  durch  dergleichen  ungereimte  Unternehmungen  gewisser  Schulmanner 
aber  der  Geschmack  junger  Leute  sehr  verderbet  und  also  das  Aufnehmen  des 
Theaters  gehindert  wird  :  so  haben  wir  wenigstens  einer  fremden  Critik  dariiber 
eirien  Platz  nicht  versagen  wollen.  Wir  verehren  iibrigens  die  Verdienste  des  Herrn 
Biedermanns,  als  Verfertigers  dieses  Schauspiels,  in  andern  Theilen  der  Gelehrsam- 
keit,  wiinschen  aber  sehnlich,  das  er  sich  mit  dem  Theater  nichts  mehr  zu  schaffen 
machen  wolle.  Auch  zur  Dichtkunst  iiberhaupt  ist  er  nicht  gemacht.  Er  hat 
einige  schone  Arien  des  blinden  freybergischen  Dichters  Herrn  Euderleins,  auf  eine 
jamraerliche  Weise  gemishandelt.  Doch  wir  kommen  zu  der  Nachricht.  Hier 
ist  sie1. 

There  is  an  echo  of  this  introduction  in  what  was,  no  doubt,  a  defence 
of  the  article  in  Lessing's  letter  to  his  father  of  February  8,  1751,  when 
he  wrote2 :  '  Wieder  den  H.  Biedermann  ist  hier  mehr  als  eine  Kritik 
zum  Vorscheine  kommen ;  so  wohl  in  beyden  Zeitungen  hat  man  ihn 
herrurngenommen,  als  auch  in  besonders  gedrukten  Blattern.  Man  hat 
ihm  zu  viel  gethan,  und  man  hatte  nicht  vergessen  sollen,  dass  er  ein 
Mann  sey  der  sonst  Verdienste  hat.' 

The  chief  claim  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  make  good  in  the 
above  notes  is  that,  while  Lessing's  authorship  of  the  '  Critik  liber  die 
Gefangnen  des  Plautus'  can  no  longer  be  upheld,  he  had  a  greater 
share  in  the  contents  of  the  Beytrdge  than  he  has  hitherto  been  credited 
with.  '  Der  grosste  Theil  der  darin  enthaltenen  Aufsatze  ist  aus  meiner 
Feder  geflossen.'  There  is,  it  seems  to  me,  no  reasonable  ground  for 
throwing  doubt  on  this  "statement. 

To  look  at  the  matter  for  a  moment  statistically.  Ascribing  to 
Lessing  the  utmost  that  I  have  suggested  could  be  by  him,  that  is 
to  say,  the  '  Vorrede,'  the  four  Plautus  items,  minus  the  60  pages  of  the 
'  Critik,'  the  Corneille  and  Riccoboni  translations,  the  Werenfels  review 
and  all  the  Paris  and  Berlin  theatre-reports,  as  well  as  the  introductory 
note  to  that  from  Freiberg,  this  gives  him  about  426  pages  to  his  credit. 
Estimating  the  entire  contents  of  the  volume  at  616  full  pages,  his 
share  would  amount  to  69  per  cent.,  which  does  not  seem  excessive  in 
view  of  his  own  statement.  By  depriving  him  of  the  theatre  notices, 
we  reduce  the  percentage  to  something  over  57,  and  if  we  take  away 
the  Corneille  translations  as  well,  to  only  37  per  cent.  From  this  one 

i  Pages  596  f.  2  Schriften,  xvn,  p.  26. 


222       Notes  on  Lessings  'Beytrdge  zur  Historic ,'  etc. 

sees,  at  least,  how  significant  for  Lessing's  'grossten  Their  are  the  125 
pages  from  Corneille.  If  his  statement  is  to  be  upheld  at  all,  these 
obviously  cannot  be  excluded  from  the  list  of  his  own  contributions. 

I  have,  I  might  add,  attempted  to  verify  the  above  conjectures  on 
the  ground  of  style  and  orthography;  but  without  arriving  at  any 
satisfactory  results1.  Consentius  has  already  shown2  that  the  tests  on 
which  earlier  investigators  laid  stress — the  omission  of  the  auxiliary, 
the  spelling  '  betauern '  and  the  like — are  of  little  use  in  determining 
Lessing's  share  in  the  Berlinische  privilegirte  Zeitung;  and  obviously 
such  tests  are  still  less  reliable  in  a  journal  where  we  have  no  means  of 
estimating  the  extent  and  nature  of  editorial  supervision  to  which  the 
articles  were  subjected. 

J.  G.  ROBERTSON. 
LONDON. 

1  As  regards  orthography,  for  instance,  Lessing  seems  to  prefer  '  italianisch,'  which 
occurs  in  the  '  Vorrede,'  'Corneille,'  'Paris'  and  'Berlin';  Mylius  '  italienisch ' ;  but  in 
'Plautus'   I  find   once   'italienisch.'      The   spellings   '  erwegen,'   'Erwegung'   occur  in 
'Voltaire,'    'Corneille,'    'Plautus'   (also    'erwehnten'    here);    'erwagen'    in    'Beweis.' 
'Betauern'  occurs  three  times  in  the  'Vorrede,'  once  in  the  '  Critik.'    In  the  'Vorrede' 
I  find  '  itzo,'  '  jetzt,'  'itzig ' ;  in  '  Plautus  '  '  jetzt,  '  jetzig  ' ;  whereas  Mylius  in  the  '  Clitia ' 
seems  to  use  only  '  itzo ' ;  in  the  '  Critik  '  we  find  '  itzt '  and  '  anitzo.'     '  Betriegerisch '  in 
'  Plautus ' ;  but  also  '  Betriiger '  ;  and  '  Betrieger '  in  '  Voltaire,'  '  betriigen '  in  '  Corneille,' 
and  '  Betriigerey  '  in  '  Critik '  and  '  Clitia.'     The  form  '  genennt '  occurs  both  in  '  Plautus 
and  '  Corneille.' 

2  E.  Consentius,  Lessing  und  die  Vossische  Zeitung,  Leipzig,  1902,  pp.  9  f.,  14  f. 


AN   EAELY  TRANSLATION   OF  GOETHE'S  '  TASSO.' 

CHARLES  DBS  VCEUX,  afterwards  Sir  Charles  Des  Voeux,  whose 
translation  of  Tasso  forms  the  subject  of  the  present  paper,  was  one 
of  the  many  young  Englishmen  whom  the  fame  of  Goethe  attracted 
to  Weimar  at  the  beginning  of  last  century.  Born  in  1802,  he  was 
descended  from  a  distinguished  Irish  family.  He  matriculated  at 
Oriel  College,  Oxford,  on  Feb.  8,  1821;  in  Michaelmas  Term,  1824,  he 
took  a  second  class  in  classics,  and  was  admitted  to  the  degree  of  B.A. 
on  Nov.  17,  1825.  He  was  entered  that  same  year  at  Lincoln's  Inn. 
In  1826  he  went  to  Weimar,  where  he  spent  some  time  (how  long 
I  am  unable  to  state)  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the  German  lan- 
guage1. He  was  a  persona  grata  at  court  and  left  pleasant  memories 
behind  him2.  He  was  also  intimate  in  the  circle  of  Goethe  and  his 
friends,  and  the  poet  conceived  sufficient  regard  for  him  to  commission 
Schmeller  to  paint  his  portrait3.  It  is  pleasant  to  think  that  he  may 
have  been  one  of  those  young  gentlemen  whose  polished  manners 
and  self-assurance  drew  from  Goethe  the  famous  remark  to  Eckermann 
on  Englishmen.  He  was  in  especial  favour  with  Goethe's  daughter- 
in-law,  and  was  a  contributor  to  her  Chaos4.  Ottilie,  if  we  may 
believe  a  contemporary,  with  her  partiality  for  handsome  Irishmen, 
seems  actually  to  have  fallen  in  love  with  him  in  her  characteristic 
impulsive  manner5.  It  is  at  least  certain  that  both  she  and  Goethe, 

1  He   took  lessons   with  a  certain  Dr  Friedrich   A.  W.  Weifienborr,  who  was   also 
Thackeray's  teacher.     See  Carl  Schiiddekopf,  Goethes  Tod,  1907,  p.  181. 

2  Sir  Frederick  des  Vceux,  the  present  baronet,  who  courteously  supplied  me  with  such 
biographical  data  as  were  accessible  to  him,  writes  as  follows :  '  When  I  was  at  a  tutor's 
in  Weimar  in  the  early  seventies,  the  then  Grand  Duke  often  spoke  to  me  about  the 
Charles  des  Voeux  you  mention,  and  told  me  how  popular  he  was  in  the  Weimar  circle  of 
Goethe's  days.' 

3  E.  C.  Alford's  List  of   Englishmen   present  at  Weimar  (English  Goethe   Society's 
Publications,  No.  v,  1890,  p.  191). 

4  L.  von  Kretschman,  Weimars  Gesellschaft  und  das  Chaos  (Westermanns  Illustrierte 
Deutsche  Monatshefte,  1892,  pp.  252  seq.). 

5  Aus  Goethes  Freundeskreise,  Erinnerungen  der  Baronin  Jenny  von  Gustedt  herausg. 
von  Lily  von  Kretschman,  1892,  p.  157 :  '  ich  kann  Des  Voeux  nicht  vergessen,  ich  schrieb 
davon  an  H.'     P.  159 :  '  Da  stehe  ich  nun  den  ganzeii  Tag  am  Fenster  und  warte  auf 
den  Briefboten  und  denke  dazwischen  an  D.'     Eeprinted  as :   Im  Schatten  der  Titanen 
herausg.  von  Lily  Braun,  pp.  116  seq.     This  is  confirmed  by  the  second  volume  of  Aus 


224  An  Early  Translation  of  Goethe's  'Tasso' 

took  the  utmost  interest  in  the  Tasso  translation.  Des  Voeux  had 
a  special  copy  printed  for  Goethe,  in  large  octavo  size,  that  the  poet 
might  find  it  convenient  to  make  his  own  annotations  and  sugges- 
tions in  the  margin1.  This  Goethe  actually  seems  to  have  done,  as 
we  know  from  entries  in  his  diary2.  He  occupied  himself  with  the 
translation  during  several  days  in  March  1827,  he  discussed  difficulties 
with  Des  Voeux  himself  and  consulted  Eckermann3.  Ottilie,  who,  as 
we  know  from  her  contributions  to  the  Chaos,  was  no  mean  English 
scholar,  furthered  the  translation  with  loving  care.  One  of  her  friends 
even  refers  to  it  as  '  ihre  Tasso  Ubersetzung4.'  This  is  obviously  an 
exaggeration,  but  it  is  significant  that  it  was  Ottilie  who  saw  the 
second  edition  of  1833  through  the  press.  The  work  is  thus  in  a  sense 
a  collaboration  of  Goethe,  Ottilie  and  Des  Voeux,  in  which  the  latter 
clearly  bore  the  brunt  of  the  work.  Hence  the  sympathetic  interest 
with  which  Goethe  followed  its  fortunes  and  his  evident  disappoint- 
ment at  Carlyle's  unfavourable  criticism.  At  the  same  time  it  enhances 
its  importance  for  us ;  and  now  that  we  are  able  to  read  between  the 
lines,  the  following  letters  and  documents  possess  an  additional  interest. 
Of  Des  Vceux'  subsequent  career  I  have  been  able  to  discover  but 
little.  He  entered  the  diplomatic  service  and  was  appointed  attache 
to  the  British  embassy  in  Berlin.  He  was  afterwards  transferred  to 
Constantinople,  but  resigned  on  account  of  ill-health,  and  became 
secretary  of  legation  at  Brussels.  He  remained  the  whole  time  in 
close  touch  with  the  Weimar  circles,  in  which  he  was  an  occasional 
visitor.  He  married  in  1832  a  Miss  Law,  daughter  of  Lord  Ellen- 
borough,  and  died  on  Aug.  9,  1833.  His  widow  afterwards  married 
Sir  Charles  Dallas,  a  college  friend  of  her  first  husband5.  In  1827  Des 

Ottilie  von  Goethe's  Nachlafiher.  von  W.  von  Ottingen  (Schriften  der  Goethe-Gesellschaft, 
28.  Band)  which  appeared  when  these  sheets  were  already  in  print.  Ottilie  was  very 
much  in  love  with  Des  Voeux.  Her  letters  are  full  of  passionate  protestations,  of  bitter 
reproaches  at  his  long  silence,  of  despair  and  resignation  at  the  news  of  his  approaching 
marriage.  She  was  sufficiently  jealous  to  refuse  his  widow's  request  to  permit  a  portrait 
of  Des  Vceux,  which  she  possessed,  to  be  copied.  Ottilie  expressed  her  indignation  in  a 
poem  entitled  '  Die  Paria  an  die  Eaja,'  p.  423. 

1  See  Goethe's  letter  to  Zelter,  below  p.  227. 

2  The  passages  in  question  have  been  conveniently  collected  by  H.  C.  Graf,  Goethe 
tiber  seine  Dichtungen,  n.  Teil,  v.  Band,  pp...354  seq.     The  entry  on  March  5  is  the  most 
important :    '  Beschaftigte    inich  mit   der  Ubersetzung  des  Tasso.     Suchte  manches  zu 
beseitigen  und  vorzubereiten.' 

3  On  March  7:  'Mittag  Dr  Eckermann.     Es  ward  ihm  die  Ubersetzung  des  Tasso 
vorgelegt.' 

4  Lily  von  Kretschman,  I.e.,  p.  160 ;  cp.  also  p.  159. 

5  For  the  above  information  I  am  indebted,  partly  to  the  kindness  of  Sir  Frederick 
des  Vosux,   and  partly  to  the  following  sources:   G.   Foster,  Alumni  Oxonienses,   1888, 
vol.  iv ;    C.  L.   Shadwell,  Registrum  Orielense,  vol.  n,  pp.  353,   357.      The   numerous 
references  in  vol.  28  of  the  Schriften  der  Goethe-Gesellschaft  mentioned  above.     An  anony- 
mous notice  in  Eraser's  Magazine,  xv,  p.  641,  May  1837  (Melange  from  the  Journal  and 


L.    A.    WILLOUGHBY  225 

Voeux  published  his  translation  of  Goethe's  Tasso.  'Torquato  Tasso,  a 
Dramatic  Poem  from  the  German  of  Goethe  :  with  other  German  Poetry. 
Translated  by  Charles  Des  Voeux,  Esq.,  London,  Longman,  Rees,  Orme, 
Brown,  and  Green,  &  Co.,  1827  V  It  was  preceded  by  a  short  Dedica- 
tion '  To  the  illustrious  author  of  Torquato  Tasso,  to  whose  approving 

Notes  of  an  Employe),  quoted  by  Biedermaun,  Goethes  Gesprdche,  1911,  vol.  v,  p.  184.  The 
passage  in  question  runs :  '  poor  Des  V[oeux]  whose  early  death  deprived  both  literature 
and  diplomacy  of  a  growing  ornament.'  On  Sept.  21,  1827,  he  sends  Goethe  a  book  from 
England  (Brief e,  Weimar-Amtgabe,  iv,  vol.  xliii,  p.  73).  On  May  14,  1830,  Goethe  writes 
to  his  son:  '  Herr  Des  Voeux  ist  hier  durch,  nach  Constantinopel.  In  Hoffnung  und 
Vermuthung,  dafi  er  euch  treffen  werde  hat  man  ihm  allerlei  Depeschen  mitgegeben.  Er 
geht  nach  Venedig,  von  da  nach  Ancona  (Weimar- Ausgabe,  iv,  vol.  xlvii,  p.  63).  Compare 
also  the  entries  in  Goethe's  Diary  mentioned  above :  Oct.  7,  1829 :  '  Herr  Des  Vceux, 
Ubersetzer  des  Tassos,  gegenwartig  in  Berlin  bei  der  englischen  Gesandtschaft ' ;  May  9, 
1830 :  '  Herr  Des  Voeux  von  der  englischen  Gesandtschaft  aus  London  war  angekommen ' ; 
May  10,  1830:  'Herr  Des  Voeux  nach  Constantinopel  reisend.'  Mention  is  made  of  him 
in  a  letter  written  to  Goethe  by  Crabb  Robinson  and  published  in  the  Diary,  Reminis- 
cences and  Correspondence  of  H.  C.  Robinson,  ed.  by  T.  Sadler,  1872,  p.  53  (quoted 
also  in  the  Goethe-Jahrbuch,  xr.  Band,  p.  115) :  '  I  avail  myself  of  the  polite  offer  of 

Mr  Des  Voeux  to  forward  to  you '     'Recently  Des  Voeux  and  Carlyle  have  brought 

other  of  your  greater  works  before  our  public.'  The  unpublished  Diary  of  Crabb 
Robinson  in  Dr  Williams'  Library  contains  the  following  entry  for  February  2,  1829: 
'  I  finished  this  morning  a  letter  to  Goethe,  and  in  the  evening  I  wrote  letters  to  Knebel 
and  Voigt,  all  of  which  were  taken  by  Des  Voeux,  who  promised  to  send  them  next  day  to 
the  Foreign  Office.'  A  letter  of  Ottilie  to  Crabb  Robinson  of  Sept.  10,  1832,  has  the 
following  reference:  'Des  Voeux  kam  nach  Frankfurth,  wie  wir  schon  abgereist  waren ' 
(published  by  R.  Priebsch  in  the  Zs.  f.  Bilcherfreunde,  1911/12,  i,  p.  43).  Compare  also 
the  extracts  from  Knebel's  letters  to  Crabb  Robinson  printed  below. 

1  Des  Voeux'  2\isso  was  the  first  English  rendering  to  be  actually  published.  It  is 
not  generally  known,  however,  that  William  Taylor  of  Norwich  had  seriously  considered 
the  translation  of  Goethe's  Tasso  as  far  back  as  1810.  The  following  extract  from  an 
unpublished  letter  to  Crabb  Robinson  in  Dr  Williams'  library  possesses  an  additional 
interest,  as  Taylor's  estimate  of  Tasso  in  his  Historic  Survey  (vol.  in,  p.  322)  is  entirely 
inadequate : 

NORWICH,  9  September  1810 

MY  DEAR,  SIR, 

In  consequence  of  yours  of  25  August,  I  have  been  reading  anew  the  Torquato 
Tasso  with  an  eye  to  translation.  Antonio  is  a  good  delineation :  and  the  poet's 
character  is  yet  more  consummately  well  drawn,  and  accords  with  history  as  with 
nature.  Werter's  irritability  reappears  in  it,  justified  by  a  higher  sense  of  conscious 
greatness  and  darkened  by  a  Rousseau-like  vein  of  mistrust.  But  these  two  are  all. 

To  me  the  female  characters  do  not  appear  so  exquisitely  depicted.  They  are  merely 
the  polished  women  of  modern  life.  If  the  princess,  instead  of  being  shocked  at  Tasso's 
kiss,  and  uttering  the  critical  hihwegl  had  fallen  in  with  his  enthusiasm,  she  would  have 
retained  him.  She  would  then  have  behaved,  not  like  a  lady,  but  like  a  heroine. 

The  second  act  is  wailing.  Alphonso  is  throughout  insipid,  and  the  catastrophe  is 
vexatious.  Notwithstanding  the  truth  of  psychology  with  which  these  delicate  em- 
barasments  are  brought  out  and  worked  up,  the  dissatisfaction,  which  they  occasion, 
inequitably  associates  itself  with  one's  estimate  of  the  poem,  converting  moral  into 
aesthetic  displeasure.  The  early  complacence  of  the  reader  decays  in  spite  of  the 
increased  stimulation. 

The  beauties  of  the  poem  however  are  numerous,  are  exquisite,  but  are  adapted  only 
for  refined  judges.  Our  English  public  is  not  very  refined,  and  never  appreciates  a  work 
in  proportion  to  the  intellectual  excellence  of  the  writer,  but  by  a  coarser  regard  to  utility, 
decency,  propriety,  domestic  convenience,  and  conversational  importance.  We  have  no 
moral  tolerance  for  the  freaks  of  genius,  no  intellectual  tolerance  for  the  darings  of 
philosophy,  and  must  consequently  be  content  to  produce  mediocrity  and  to  be  ruled  by 
narrow  minds  in  lieu  of  prospective  wisdom.  The  entire  works  of  Goethe  would  not  suit 
here:  he  has  attained  that  divine  morality  which  looks  down  on  all  forms  of  human 
conduct  with  equal  eye,  and  sees  in  the  lewdness  of  Faustus,  or  the  purity  of  Ifigenia, 

M.  L.  R.  IX.  15 


226  An  Early  Translation  of  Goethe s  'Tasso' 

kindness  and  encouragement  the  following  translations  owe  their 
completion,  they  are  most  gratefully  inscribed  by  one  of  his  sincerest 
admirers.'  The  introduction  contains  a  brief  appreciation  of  the 
poem  and  its  characters. 

This  translation  seems  to  have  passed  almost  unnoticed  in  England, 
at  a  time,  moreover,  when  the  reviews  and  journals  of  the  day  were 
full  of  critical  appreciations  of  German  literature.  Yet  it  did  not 
escape  the  attention  of  that  most  assiduous  and  enthusiastic  admirer 
and  interpreter  of  Goethe  in  England,  -Henry  Crabb  Robinson1.  Even 
before  its  appearance  he  had  been  informed  of  its  inception  by 
his  friend  Major  von  Knebel.  In  the  Correspondence  of  Crabb 
Robinson,  still  lying  unpublished  in  Dr  Williams'  Library,  there  is 
the  following  letter  from  Knebel  to  Crabb  Robinson,  dated  from 
Jena,  March  1,  1827: 

In  diesen  letzten  Tagen  besuchte  mich  Hr.  Des  Voeux,  ein  Irlander,  von  Weimar 
aus,  hier.  Er  1st  ein  ungemein  unterrichteter  feiner  junger  Mann  und  hat  sich  in 
kurzer  Zeit  der  deutschen  Sprache  sehr  bemachtigt,  so  dafi  er  jetzt  Gothes  Tasso 
und  andere  Gedichte  ins  Englische  iibersetzt.  Er  denkt  in  weniger  Zeit  jetzt  nach 
London  zuriick  zu  kehren. 

Dieser  hat  mir  versprochen  ein  kleines  Packet  an  Sie,  lieber  Freund,  nach 
London  mitzunehmen,  und  deshalb  wag'  ich  es  ihm  dieses  mitzugeben . . . . 

And  again,  on  May  24,  1828,  Knebel  reports  to  Crabb  Robinson : 

Hr.  Des  Voeux  ist  bei  rnir  gewesen,  und  ich  habe  semen  Tasso  von  ihm 
erhalten.  Noch  habe  ich  nicht  viel  darin  studirt.  Es  ist  schwer  den  Italienischen 
Wohlklang  zu  ersetzen2. 

Des    Voeux    presented   a   complimentary   copy   to   another   of   his 

but  that  exact  adaptation  of  effect  to  cause,  of  conduct  to  motive,  which  characterizes  the 
constitution  of  things. 

By  the  bye,  your  preference  of  the  Torquato  to  the  Ifigenia  does  not  accord  with  my 
translater's  predilections.  You  call  Ifigenia  half  a  Christian,  as  if  her  character  were  out 
of  costume.  Surely  hers  are  no  Christian  virtues.  Frankness,  generosity,  courage,  are  not 
of  gospel  growth,  but  rather  chastity,  tenderness,  and  meekness.  Itigenia  appears  to  me 
to  be  derived  from  the  Neoptolemus  in  Sofocles'  Philoctetus.  There  is,  perhaps,  both  in 
Goethe  and  in  Sophocles,  some  anachronism  in  placing  so  early  in  the  social  progress 
a  character  which  refinement  is  requisite  to  form.  The  noble  is  that  idea  of  human 
excellence  least  to  be  expected  from  the  savage. 

You  ask  about  the  Monk  of  Libanon — three  acts  of  it  I  have  already  translated,  and 
would  finish  it,  if  a  prospect  offered  of  any  bookseller's  taking  it  off  my  hands — it  contains 
but  one  very  fine  scene,  the  delirium  of  Saladin. 

[A  political  paragraph....] 

If  you  can  trust  me  again,  when  you  have  any  new  German  books  worth  reading, 
I  shall  be  thankful  for  a  knowledge  of  them 

and  am  sincerely  Yours 

W.  Taylor  Jr 

1  On  Crabb  Robinson  and  the  part  he  played  in  familiarizing  his  fellow-countrymen 
with  Goethe  and  German  literature  cf.  the  article  by  J.  M.  Carre  in  the  Revue  Germanique, 
vin,  No.  4,  pp.  385  seq. 

2  I  am  indebted  to  Professor  K.  Priebsch  for  the  reference  to  these  letters. 


L.    A.    WILLOUGHBY  227 

Weimar  friends,  Adele  Schopenhauer.     She  writes  from  the  Rhine  to 
Goethe  on  November  10,  1827  : 

Der  mir  von  Herrn  Des  Vceux  geschenkte  Tasso  machte  Aufsehen  und  erregte 
bei  denen,  die  ihn  sahen,  warme  Theilnahme.  Die  englische  Sprache  breitet  sich 
auch  dort  [in  Frankfurt]  sehr  aus  und  bald  wird  man  fast  keine  andere  Litteratur 
anerkennen,  als  die  neuere  englische1. 

On  May  28,  1829,  Goethe  received  a  copy  of  the  published  work, 
a  copy  which  is  still  preserved  in  Goethe's  library  at  Weimar2.  Goethe 
had  already  written  to  Zelter  concerning  it  on  March  29 3 : 

Doch  ist  mir  in  dieser  letzten  Zeit  eine  ahnliche  Pein  geworden.  Ein  Englander, 
der  wie  andere  urn  nicht  Deutsch  zu  lernen  nach  Deutschland  gekommen  war, 
verfiihrt  durch  geistreich  gesellige  Unterhaltung  und  Anregung,  machte  den 
Versuch,  meinen  Tasso  in's  Englische  zu  iibersetzen.  Die  ersten  Probestellen 
waren  nicht  zu  verwerfen,  im  Fortsetzen  ward  es  immer  besser,  nicht  ohne  Ein- 
greifen  und  Mitwirken  meines  hauslichen,  wie  eine  Schraube  ohne  Ende  sich 
umdrehenden  Sprach-  und  Literaturkreises. 

Nun  wiinscht'  er,  dafi  ich  das  ganze  Stuck  gern  und  mit  Bequemlichkeit  durch- 
lesen  mochte,  deshalb  lieB  er  sein  Concept  in  grofi  Octav,  mit  neuen  Lettern,  sehr 
anstandig  abdrucken4,  und  ich  ward  dadurch  freylich  compromittirt,  dieses  wunder- 
liche  Werk,  das  ich,  seitdem  es  gedruckt  ist,  nie  wieder  durchgelesen,  solches  auch 
hochstens  nur  unvollstandig  vom  Theater  herab  vernornrnen  hatte,  mit  Ernst  und 
Sorgfalt  durchzugehen.  Da  fand  ich  nun,  zu  meiner  Verwunderung,  mein  damaliges 
Wollen  und  Vollbringen  erst  wieder  am  Tage,  und  begriff,  wie  junge  Leute  Ver- 
gniigen  und  Trost  finden  konnen,  in  wohlgestellter  Rede  zu  vernehmen,  dafi  andere 
sich  auch  schori  einmal  so  gequalt  haben  wie  sie  selbst  jetzt  gequalt  sind.  Die 
Ubersetzung  ist  merkwiirdig,  das  wenige  MiBverstandene  ist  nach  meiner  Bemerkung 
abgeandert,  der  Ausdruck  kommt  nach  und  nach  immer  besser  in  Flufi,  die  letzten 
Acte  und  die  passionirten  Stellen  sind  vorziiglich  gut. 

On  January  1,  1828,  Goethe  wrote  to  Carlyle,  asking  his  opinion 
of  the  translation5: 

In  das  Kastchen  lege  noch  einige  literarisch-sittliche  Bemerkungen,  und  frige 
nur  die  Anfrage  wegen  eines  einzigen  Punctes,  der  mich  besonders  interessirt,  hier 
bey ;  sie  betrifft  Herrn  Des  Vceux,  dessen  Ubersetzung  des  Tasso  nun  auch  wohl 
in  Ihren  Handen  ist.  Er  verwendete  seinen  hiesigen  Aufenthalt  leidenschaftlich 
auf  das  Studium  einer  ihm  vorerst  nicht  gelautigen  Sprache  und  auf  ein  sorgfaltiges 
Ubertragen  gedachten  Dramas.  Er  machte  mir  durch  eine  gedruckte  Copie  seines 
Manuscriptes  die  Bequemlichkeit,  seine  vorriickende  Arbeit  nach  und  nach  durch- 
zusehen,  wobey  ich  freylich  nichts  wirken  konnte,  als  zu  beurtheilen  ob  die 
Ubersetzung,  insofern  ich  englisch  lese,  mit  dem  Sinn,  den  ich  in  meine  Zeilen  zu 
legen  gedachte,  ubereinstimmend  zu  tirideri  ware.  Und  da  will  ich  gern  gestehen, 
daB,  nach  einiger  Ubereinkunft  zu  gevvissen  Abanderungen,  ich  nichts  mehr  zu 

1  Edited  by  L.  Geiger,  Goethe-Jahrbuch,  vol.  xix  (1898),  p.  61. 

2  See  Graf,  I.e.,  p.  359. 

3  Weimar-Ausgabe,  Briefe,  iv,  xlii,  p.  103. 

4  This  is  confirmed  by  B.  Gans  in  a  '  conversation '  with  Goethe.     Biedermann,  Goethes 
Gesprdche,  m,  p.  437:  'So  habe  zum  Beispiel  ein  Englander  seinen  "Torquato  Tasso" 
in's  Englische  iibersetzt,  und  weil  er  ihm  nicht  zumuthen  wollte,  ein  Manuscript  durch- 
zusehen,  so  habe  er  dasselbe  in  Einem  Exemplare  drucken  lassen  und  ihm,  damit  er  seine 
Bemerkungen  machen  konne,  iiberreicht.' 

5  C.  E.  Norton,  Correspondence  between  Goethe  and  Carlyle,  1887,  pp.  36  seq.     Weimar- 
Ausgabe,  Briefe,  iv,  xliii,  p.  221. 

15—2 


228  An  Early  Translation  of  Goethe  s  'Tasso' 

erinnern  wusste,  was  mir  fiir  das  Verstandniss  meines  Werkes  in  einer  fremden 
Sprache  ware  hinderlich  gewesen.  Nun  aber  mocht  ich  von  Ihnen  wissen,  in- 
wiefern  dieser  Tasso  als  Englisch  gelten  kann.  Sie  werden  mich  hb'chlich  ver- 
binden,  wenn  Sie  mich  hierliber  aufklaren  und  erleuchten ;  denn  eben  diese 
Beziige  vom  Originale  zur  Ubersetzung  sind  es  ja,  welche  die  Verhaltnisse  von 
Nation  zu  Nation  am  allerdeutlichsten  aussprechen  und  die  man  zu  Forde- 
rung  der  vor-  und  obwaltenden  Weltliteratur  vorzuglich  zu  kennen  und  zu 
beurtheilen  hat. 

With  this  letter  to  Carlyle  still  in  his  mind,  he  expressed  himself 
in  similar  nattering  terms  to  a  Mr  Granville,  who  .visited  him  on 
January  2,  1828: 

The  patriarch  poet  seemed  far  more  satisfied  with  the  translation  of  Tasso  by 
Mr  Charles  Des  VOBUX.  He  said:  'I  understand  English  &  ma  maniere,  quite 
sufficiently  to  discover  in  that  gentleman's  recent  translation,  that  he  has  rendered 
all  my  ideas  faithfully.  Je  me  lisais  moi-m^me  dans  la  traduction.  It  is  for  the 
English  to  determine,  if,  in  adhering  faithfully  to  the  ideas  of  the  German  original, 
Mr  Des  Voeux  a  conserve  les  regies  et  n'a  pas  trahi  le  genie  de  sa  langue.  Je  n'en 
suis  pas  juge:  peut-etre  le  trouvera-t-on  un  peu  trop  Allemand...1.' 

Carlyle  replied  to  Goethe's  letter  on  April  18,  18282: 

But  I  must  not  neglect  to  speak  of  Mr  Des  Vceux's  '  Translation '  of  your 
Tasso,  concerning  which  you  honour  me  by  asking  my  opinion.  Sorry  am  I  to 
be  forced  to  call  it  trivial,  nay  altogether  unworthy.  No  P^nglish  reader  can 
here  obtain  any  image  of  that  beautiful  Drama,  or,  at  best,  such  an  image  as  the 
rugged,  bald  and  meagre  school  versions  of  Homer,  may  give  him  of  the  Iliad. 

More  than  once  I  had  to  turn  to  the  original  even  for  the  meaning,  nay,  in 
some  instances  the  Author  himself  seems  not  to  have  known  it;  for,  ich  soil 
(p.  69)  is  rendered  by  /  t0iZ£,.thus  expressing  a  purpose  instead  of  an  obligation; 
and  (p.  78)  erreicht  is  mistaken  for  darreicht  and  translated,  not  attains  but  pre- 
sents, to  say  nothing  of  ivacker,  everywhere  translated  by  valiant,  which  means 
only  kilhn ;  and  klug  by  shreiud  (properly :  scharf,  scharfsinnig) ;  Faun  (p.  60)  by  fawn 
(Rehkalb,  probably  a  misprint),  and  (p.  77)  meine  Hand  fSchlag'  ein!  by  my  hand 
to  shake,  literally  and  properly:  hier  ist  meine  Hand — zu  schiitteln!  Instead  of 
general  observations  I  once  thought  of  drawing  your  attention  to  some  single 
passage ;  for  example,  to  Antonio's  truly  graceful  character  of  Ariosto,  in  Act  I,  to 
show  in  detail  how  the  fine  spirit  has  evaporated  in  the  transfusion,  and  nothing 
remains  to  us  but  such  a  caput  mortuum  as  'source  of  love  or  child  of  glory,' 
'talent's  power,'  'spirit  forms  and  yet  in  person';  and  worst  of  all  in  • juggle 
FORMED  by  sportive  Cupid,'  which  indeed  is  a  ne  plus  ultra  both  in  sense  and 
expression.  But  I  have  already  occupied  you  too  long  with  such  a  matter,  con- 
cerning which  nothing  but  your  request  could  have  authorised  me  to  say  one  word. 
In  short,  this  translation  is  like  our  common  translation  from  the  German  works ; 
which  no  reader  of  that  language  ever  willingly  looks  into ;  passable,  or  at  least 
only  mildly  condemnable,  when  they  deal  with  Kotzebues  and  Hoffmanns ;  but 
altogether  sacrilegious  when  they  fix  on  Fausts  and  Tassos. 

Goethe  was  obviously  rather  disappointed  by  the  severity  of  this 
review,  but  not  altogether  convinced  by  Carlyle's  arguments  for  on 
July  13,  1828,  he  wrote  to  Ottilie: 

1  Biedermarm,  Gesprache,  vol.  in,   p.  485;   quoted  also  by  E.  Griinewald.     Goetlie- 
Jahrbuch,  vol.  xxix,  p.  42. 

2  Norton,  Correspondence,  p.  87. 


L.    A.    WILLOUGHBY  229 

Den  Tasso  betreffend  sag  ich  Folgendes :  allerdings  habe  Carlyle  wegen  der 
Ubersetzung  befragt,  um  iiber  das  Verhaltniss  derselben  zu  den  englischen  Sprach- 
forderungeri  gewisser  zu  werden;  seine  Erwiderung  war  nicht  giinstig,  und  da  ich 
die  Sache  mit  leeren  Phrasen  nicht  abthun  wollte,  so  hielt  ich  inne  um  zu  erwarten, 
wie  die  Foreign  Reviews  sich  dariiber  allenfalls  auslassen  wiirden.  In  diesen  hatte 
ich  aber  bis  zu  spater  Erscheinung  meines  Heftes  nichts  gefunden  und  so  mufite 
ich  schweigen,  bis  etwa  die  Folge  das  Weitere  ergabe1.  Ich  hatte  gewiinscht, 
dafi  dir  fiir  Antheil  uud  Bemiihung  ein  freundlicheres  Resultat  ware  zu  Theil 
geworden 2. 

Goethe's  letter  seems  to  have  crossed  with  one  which  Ottilie  wrote 
to  him  on  July  16,  18283: 

Noch  eine  Frage,  bester  Vater,  habe  ich  auf  dem  Herzen.  In  der  Anzeige,  was 
der  Inhalt  von  '  Kunst  und  Alterthum '  sei,  fand  ich  auch  iiber  den  '  Tasso '  aufge- 
zeichnet ;  doch  ist  dieses  nun  nicht  darin  enthalten.  Sollte  dies  Weglassen  nicht 
mit  einem  ungiinstigen  Urtheil  Carlisles  iibereinstimmen  ?  Dafi  es  nicht  zu  Vor- 
theil  Des  Vo3ux'  sei,  dachte  ich  immer,  da  es  Ihnen  sonst  gewiB  Freudefgegeben,  es 
mir  mitzutheilen. 

Des  Vceux'  translation  of  Tasso  is  not,  indeed,  a  work  of  supreme 
excellence,  but  it  certainly  does  not  deserve  the  harsh  censure  which 
Carlyle  passed  upon  it.  It  was  a  labour  of  love,  inspired  by  the 
presence  and  encouragement  of  the  great  poet  himself,  and  under- 
taken with  a  sincere  desire  to  bring  home  to  his  fellow-countrymen 
another  of  the  great  works  of  German  literature.  One  might  have 
expected  that  an  aim  so  completely  in  accordance  with  Carlyle's  own 
avowed  professions  would  have  secured  for  the  attempt  his  serious  and 
sympathetic  attention.  Yet  Carlyle,  with  all  his  enthusiasm  for 
German  literature,  was  singularly  unfair  to  other  critics  and  trans- 
lators who  disputed  the  field  with  him.  His  review  of  William 
Taylor's  Historic  Survey  of  German  Poetry  was  marred  by  the  same 
inaccuracies  and  wilful  misrepresentations,  as  we  shall  notice  in  his 
Tasso  criticism4. 

But  there  is  evidence  to  show  that  Carlyle's  examination  of  the 
translation  was  most  cursory.  He  limited  himself  obviously  to  the 

1  The  only  notice  of  Des  Vceux'  Tasso  I  have  found  in  the  English  periodicals  is  in 
the  Monthly  Review,  vol.  vi  (1827),  pp.  182—197,  which  deals  rather  with  the  original  than 
with  the  translation.     Yet  that  other  such  reviews  appeared  seems  probable  from  the 
following  notice  in  the  matter  fiir  literarische   Unterhaltung ,  No.    296,  Dec.   23,   1828, 
p.  1184:  'Goethe's  "Tasso"  nach  England  verpflanzt.     Dieses  Meisterwerk  ist  jetzt  von 
einem  Hrn.  Karl  des  Voeux  in  das  Englische,  und,  wie  die  Kritiker  jenes  Landes  sagen, 
sehr   gut   iibertragen  worden.     Aufierdem   hat    Hr.   d.    V.  aber   auch  noch  dem   Bande 
einzelue  Dichtungen  von  verschiedenen  andern  deutschen  Dichtern  in  Uebersetzung  als 
Proben  dermaliger  deutschen  Poesie  beigeiugt.     Hieriiber  wird  jedoch  geurtheilt:  "Einige 
dieser  Sachen  sind  zwar  einfach,   aber  ohne  Natiirlichkeit ;  man  fuhlt,  dafl  sie  im  Ge- 
schweifie  des  Angesichts  entstanderi.     So  tragen  sie  den  Fehler  der  Neuerer  in  der  Poesie 
an  sich,  den  namlich,  eine  Naivetat  und  Grazie  zu  affectireu,  die  vollig  unertraglich  ist." ' 

2  Briefe,  iv,  xliv,  p.  214.  :j  Aus  Ottilie  von  Goethes  Nachlafi,  I.e.,  p.  209. 

4  Georg  Herzfeld,  William  Taylor  von  Norwich,  1897,  p.  51:  'die  Mangel  und  Liicken 
sind  nicht  iramer  von  Carlyle  richtig  erkannt,  und  gar"  nicht  selten  sind  seine  Ausstellungen 
als  unbegriindet  zu  widerlegen.' 


230  An  Early  Translation  of  Goethe  s  'Tasso' 

few  pages  from  which  his  extracts  are  drawn — Antonio's  character- 
isation of  Ariosto  in  Act  I,  Scene  IV,  and  pp.  60  to  78.  Nor  are  his 
strictures  always  justified :  '  wacker '  can,  and  does  very  often  mean 
'valiant/  'shrewd'  may  be  an  excellent  rendering  of  'klug.'  What 
the  meaning  may  have  been  in  the  particular  instances  which  Carlyle 
had  in  view  I  am  unable  to  say,  because  he  omits  to  give  either  the 
context  or  the  reference.  Not  but  that  Des  Voeux'  translation  does 
contain  mistakes;  had  Carlyle  studied  the  text  very  carefully  he 
would  have  found  even  worse  faults  than  the  peccadillos  he  himself 
unfortunately  singled  out1.  Yet  the  fact  that  in  the  3450  lines  of  the 
play  I  have  been  able  to  discover  so  few  blunders  is  itself  a  testimony 
to  the  accuracy  of  the  translation.  That  is  the  great  merit  of  the 
work :  it  is  essentially  literal,  almost  too  literal  at  times,  as  Des  Vceux 
himself  acknowledged  when  he  came  to  prepare  his  second  edition. 
Occasionally,  it  is  true,  we  get  some  of  the  bombast  of  which  Carlyle 
fell  foul  in  his  letter.  There  is  no  defence  for  a  line  such  as  the 
following:  'Futurity's  effulgent  clouds'  compared  with  Goethe's  'Der 
Zukunft  goldne  Wolke.'  The  translation  certainly  lacks  '  den .  itali- 
enischen  Wohlklang'  of  which  Knebel  wrote  ;  but  no  translator,  however 
skilful,  could  have  reproduced  the  classic  form  of  his  author.  On 
the  other  hand  Des  Vceux  not  unfrequently  finds  a  happy  rendering, 
an  apt  turn  of  expression,  which  does  credit  to  himself  and  the 
original.  The  following  example,  taken  at  random,  must  serve  to 
illustrate  this  trait. 

Tis  only  galley-slaves  that  know  themselves, 
Who  pant  in  chains  on  one  contracted  bank.' 

is  a  very  creditable  rendering  of: 

3339 :     Nur  die  Galeerensklaven  kennen  sich, 

Die  eng  an  eine  Bank  geschmiedet  keuchen. 

But  he  is  not  always  so  fortunate : 

1  1.260:  'Und  losgesprochen  sein  auf  lange  Zeit';  'And  shall  be  pardon'd  for  his 
tardiness.'  389:  'Dafi  Freunde  seiner  schonend  sich  erfreuen';  'That  friends  might 
spare  him  and  enjoy  themselves.'  482 :  '  Es  lebe  der  zum  erstenmal  Bekranzte ! ' ;  '  Live 
for  the  first  time  now  with  garland  crowned!'  1599:  'Wo  schwarmt  der  Knabe  hin?'; 
'  Where  roves  the  boy  ? '  1984  :  '  und  rechtest  wie  mit  Fremden ' ;  '  and,  as  with  a  stranger 
count' — ('rechten'  confused  with  'rechnen'!).  1987:  'da  merkt  man  auf;  'then  we 
remark.'  2318:  'Oglaube  mir';  'rely  on  me.'  2610:  'Man  mufi  geschaftig  sein  sobald 
sie  reift';  'One  must  be  occupied,  so  soon  'tis  gone'  ('reift'  mistaken  for  'reist'!). 
2631:  'Der  heitre  Wandel  mancher  schonen  Tage';  'The  stroll  serene  of  many  a 
beauteous  day.'  3127:  'Wie  viele  tausend  stumme  Lehrer  winken  |  In  ernster  Majestat 
uns  freundlich  an ! ' ;  '  How  many  thousand  mute  instructors  wink  \  On  us  with  kind  yet 
earnest  majesty!' 


L.    A.    WILLOUGHBY  231 

But  would'st  thou  clearly  know  what  is  becoming ; 
That  only  from  exalted  woman  ask. 
and 

At  licence,  man ;  decorum,  woman  aims. 

strike  us  as  very  unequal  to  the  well-known  original  lines,  perhaps  just 
because  they  are  so  well-known.  Des  Voeux  himself  was  not  altogether 
satisfied  with  his  translation  and  almost  immediately  considered  the 
publication  of  a  revised  edition.  Again  Ottilie  helped  him  to  the 
utmost  of  her  ability.  On  Oct.  23,  1828,  she  made  the  following  entry 
in  her  diary :  '  Ich  schrieb  an  Des  Voeux  und  kopierte  ihm  alle  Stelien, 
die  ich  glaubte  zu  andern  waren1.'  There  is  a  further  entry  for  Nov.  26, 
1831 :  '  Ununterbrochen  an  "  Tasso  "  abgeschrieben2.'  During  these 
years  Des  Vceux'  correspondence  is  full  of  references  to  theif  common 
undertaking3.  Finally  Ottilie  wrote  to  him  on  Aug.  21,  18324: 

Vorgestern  erhielt  ich  aus  Frankfurth  den  'Tasso,'  lind  da  der  Druck  nicht 
beginnen  kann,  bis  Sie  bestimrut  haben,  wieviel  Exemplare  gedruckt  werden  sollen, 
so  sende  ich  Ihnen  Papier  und  Druckproben  zur  Wahl.  Haben  Sie  die  Giite,  was  Sie 
wahlen  wieder  zuriickzusenden  und  die  Exemplare  zu  bestimmen,  so  wie  auch,  ob  Sie 
die  Vorrede  lassen  wollen.  Sollteri  Sie  noch  eine  andere  Vorrede  wollen,  so  hat  es 
Zeit  damit,  da  dies  imrner  zuletzt  gedruckt  wird.  Es  hat  mich  iiberrascht  zu  sehen, 
dafi  Sie  Sich  mit  dem  Deutschen  aufs  neue  zu  beschaftigen  scheinen.  '  Cassandra ' 
soil  doch  mit  abgedruckt  werden  ?  Es  war  friiher  Ihre  Meinung,  einige  Ihrer  eignen 
Gedichte  bei  einer  neuen  Ausgabe  hinzuzufiigen ;  ist  das  nicht  mehr  Ihr  Wille  I 

In  1833,  there  appeared  at  Weimar  the  second  edition5  of  Torquato 
Tasso  'revised  and  corrected,  with  additions.'  Besides  the  above- 
mentioned  Dedication  and  Introduction  of  the  first  edition,  there  is 
a  note  by  Ottilie  von  Goethe,  which  tells  of  the  history  of  this 
Tasso  translation : 

My  friend  Mr  Des  Voeux  wrote  in  June  1832  to  me:  'I  have  completed  my 
alterations  of  Tasso,  making  it  more  English, — and  very  little  less  literal.  I  will 
send  it  to  you,  if  you  like  to  have  it.  Perhaps  you  might  think  it  well  to  have 
it  printed  at  Weimar — under  your  superintendence  if  you  please.'  According  to 
his  wish  the  printing  was  not  only  begun  but  finished,  with  the  exception  of  the 
dedication.  I  wrote  to  him  about  it  and  received  no  reply — I  wrote  again, — the 
answer  was  the  news  of  his  death. 

Ottilie  von  Goethe 

geb.  von  Pogwisch. 

There  are  considerable  discrepancies  between  the  two  texts,  the 
changes  in  the  second  edition  being  mainly  in  the  direction  indicated 
by  Des  Voaux  in  his  letter  to  Ottilie.  It  is  less  literal,  but  more 

1  Aus  Ottilie  von  Goethes  Nachlafi,  I.e.,  p.  223. 

2  Nachl/ifi,  p.  320.  3  I.e.,  p.  405.  4  I.e.,  p.  374. 

5  Both  the  first  and  second  editions  are  noticed  by  E.  Oswald,  Goethe  in  England  and 
America  (Publications  of  the  English  Goethe  Society,  No.  xi).  Second  edition  revised  and 
enlarged  by  L.  and  E.  Oswald.  'l909,  p.  52. 


232  An  Early  Translation  of  Goethe  s  'Tasso' 

polished  and  better  English.  He  cuts  out  many  juvenilities,  avoids 
periphrastic  constructions  with  do  and  did  for  the  sake  of  the  metre. 
On  the  other  hand  there  is  a  noticeable  tendency  to  high-flown  or 
archaic  language  which  was  absent  from  the  first  edition1.  To  some 
extent  this  militates  against  this  new  edition  which  is,  nevertheless, 
a  marked  improvement  on  the  first.  In  printing  and  paper  it  is 
inferior  to  the  English  work;  in  other  respects  it  is  an  exact  replica 
of  the  English  version,  to  which  it  corresponds  exactly  in  size  and 
pagination. 

In  conclusion,  I  cannot  do  better  than  quote  a  connected  passage 
from  the  work.  It  will  afford  not  only  an  insight  into  the  quality 
of  the  translation  itself,  but  also  a  comparison  between  the  two  texts, 
as  I  print  the  variant  readings  of  the  1833  edition  in  a  foot-note. 

Act  n,  Scene  I,  1.  978 2: 

(O  welches  Wort  spricht  meine  Fiirstin  aus! 
Die  goldne  Zeit  wohin  ist  sie  geflohen  ?) 

Oh !  what  a  word  my  princess  has  pronounc'd ! 

The  golden  age,  oh !  whither  is  it  flown  ? 
980     For  which  in  vain  now  ev'ry  heart  doth  long! 

The  time  when  o'er  th'  unshackled  earth  mankind 

Like  sportive  herds  in  gay  delight  did  roam : 

And  in  the  flow'ry  meed  some  aged  tree 

To  shepherds  and  their  mates  did  lend  its  shade, 
985     The  half-grown  bush  its  tender  twigs  entwin'd 

Round  longing  love  securely-  confident : 

While  clear  and  still  upon  the  stainless  sand 

The  gentle  stream  the  tender  nymph  embrac'd — 

And  when  amid  the  grass  the  startled  snake 
990     Innoxious  lost  itself ;   the  shameless  faun 

Did  fly  amain  by  valiant  youth  repell'd : 

When  ev'ry  bird  that  skimm'd  th'  unbridled  air, 

And  ev'ry  beast  that  roam'd  o'er  mount  and  dell, 

To  man  then  said,  '  what  pleases  is  allow'd.' 

Besides  the  above  translation  of  Tasso  the  volume  contains,  as  its 
title-page  implies,  a  selection  of  miscellaneous  German  poems,  preceded 
by  a  brief  biographical  sketch  of  each  author.  There  are  poems  by 
Biernacky,  Schiller,  Uhland,  Burger,  Holtz,  Eichendorff,  Goethe.  The 
selection,  though  agreeing  in  the  main,  is  not  identical  in  both  editions. 
There  are  some  omissions  in  the  second  edition,  especially  from  Goethe, 

1  go  A  (1827  ed.):  repair  B  (1833);  has  A:  hath  B;  tried  A:  strove  (B) ;  depriv'd  A: 
reft  B ;  see  A :  contemplate  B  ;  near  A :  proximate  B  ;  sent  A :  transmitted  B ;  please  A : 
gratify  B ;  drink  A  :  potation  B. 

2  Variants:  978  hath.     980  In  vain  is  ev'ry  bosom  longing  for  it!     982  Wander'd 
like  sportive  herds  in  gay  delight;    983  When,  mead.     984  Lent   shepherds  and  their 
mates   its   friendly   shade.      985    And    when    the   half-grown   bush   its    twigs   entwin'd. 
990  fawn  A;    and  the    bold   satyr  B.      991  By  valiant  youth    repell'd    sought   flight 
amain.     994  VVhisper'd  to  men. 


L.    A.    WILLOUGHBY  233 

whilst  it  includes  additional  poems  by  Mtichler,  Zach.  Werner,  Heine, 
Grillparzer  and  J.  P.  Uz. 

Of  special  interest  is  an  original  poem  of  Des  Vceux  (which  only 
appeared  in  the  first  edition)  entitled  'Adele.  A  Wish.'  I  offer  the 
suggestion  that  it  refers  to  Adele  Schopenhauer  and  her  love  for 
Heinke.  Des  Vceux  was  apparently  on  intimate  terms  with  her.  From 
her  letter  to  Goethe  quoted  above  we  know  that  he  sent  her  his  Tasso. 
As  an  original  piece  of  work  it  is  perhaps  worth  quoting : 

AD&LE 
A  WISH 

I  begg'd  to  catch  one  word  of  friendly  sound, 

Which  might  some  tidings  from  my  love  convey:          _ 

The  days,  they  roll  their  dull  resistless  round ; 
To  you,  ye  nights,  in  suppliant  tones  I  pray ! 

And  since  the  sunny  glance  displays  no  more 
What  best  my  fond  heart  lov'd — his  image1  dear; 

Oh !    bring  in  dreams !    and  'mid  the  starry  lore, 
Oh!   let  me  read  his  name  in  yonder  sphere! 

We  shall  obtain  a  more  favourable  impression  of  Des  Vceux'  poetic 
powers  if  we  turn  to  his  contributions  to  the  Chaos.  The  poem  entitled 
'Lasting  Love/  published  in  No.  7,  p.  26,  is  a  good  specimen  of  his 
work. 

LASTING  LOVE 

Give  me  the  heart  that  knows  no  change, 

Whose  ev'ry  whisper'd  sigh  is  mine, 
Which  in  its  most  extended  range 

Still  answers  to  my  love — 'I'm  thine.' 

The  veriest  stoic  must  have  felt 

In  some  propitious  sunny  hour 
His  frozen  heart  relax  and  melt 

Beneath  young  Beauty's  radiant  pow'r. 

Oh !   give  me  not  such  transient  love, 

That  scarce  outlives  one  summer's  day; 
But  give  me  bliss  enjoy'd  above, 

That  will  not,  can  not  waste  away! 

'Tis  vain,  oh !  woman,  dry  those  tears  ; 

Such  feelings  dwell  not  here  below; 
Or,  if  they  tenant  earthly  spheres, 

'Tis  not  in  Man's  cold  heart  they  glow. 

Man  only  loves  a  little  while, 

When  Exstacy  and  Passion  bloom  ; 
But  Woman  wears  a  lasting  smile 

That  gleams  above  young  Passion's  tomb! 

The  flame  of  love  in  her  fond  breast 

Is  like  the  subterranean  fire, 
Which  smoulders  on,  tho'  still  represt, 

Still,  still  refusing  to  expire ! 


234  An  Early  Translation  of  Goethe's  lTasso' 

This  poem  -aroused  such  interest  among  the  readers  of  the  Chaos 
that  two  of  them  were  induced  to  attempt  German  versions.  In 
No.  12  (Beilage)  Karl  von  Holtei  published  a  translation  which 
began : 

Gieb  mir  das  Herz:   unwandelbar,  bestandig, 
Aus  dern  jedweder  Hauch  und  Seufzer  mein, 
Aus  dessen  ganzem  Umfang,  stets  lebendig 
Die  Antwort  meiner  Lieb'  ertont:  "nur  dein!" 

De  la  Motte  Fouque  treated  the  same  theme  in  variations  in  No.  29, 
p.  115. 

If  we  can  trust  L.  von  Kretschman,  in  the  article  quoted  above 
in  Westermanris  Monatshefte,  p.  258,  it  would  appear  that  Des  Vceux 
was  also  the  author  of  a  German  poem  in  memory  of  the  Duchess 
Luise,  which  appeared  in  a  Beiblatt  to  No.  23  of  the  Chaos.  The 
'Nachruf  in  question  is  of  very  high  order  both  in  form  and  matter: 

Auf  zu  den  Wohnungen 

ewigen  Friedens, 

auf  zu  des  Urquells 

goldenem  Lichte, 

schwebe,  befreite 

himmlische  Seele, 

hier  aus  den  Schmerzen 

der  Trennung — des  Sehnens 

auf  zu  den  Sternen 

den  himmlischen  Flug.... 

If  Des  Voeux  could  write  such  German,  he  was  indeed  fully  qualified 
to  undertake  the  translation  of  Tasso.  Unfortunately  there  is  con- 
siderable uncertainty  as  to  whether  the  lines  are  his.  The  author  of 
Weimars  Gesellschaft  und  das  Chaos  assigns  the  nine  separate  contri- 
butions to  this  number  to  ten  different  names.  There  is  indeed  one 
contribution  in  English  amongst  them,  but  this  is  signed  '  Elvire,'  the 
pseudonym  for  Mr  Plunkett.  In  view  of  this  discrepancy  it  is  impossible 
to  state  definitely  the  authorship  of  the  above  '  Nachruf.' 

L.    A.    WlLLOUGHBY. 
OXFORD. 


MISCELLANEOUS   NOTES 

A  BALLAD  OF  TWELFTH  DAY. 
(Mod.  Lang.  Review,  vol.  vm,  p.  64.) 

IN  the  Trin.  Coll.,  Cambridge,  MS.  B.  14.  39  the  leaves  following 
this  ballad  contain  a  long  poem  on  Bible  history.  In  the  lower  margins 
of  some  of  the  pages  are  faint  scribblings  in  red  chalk  apparently  in 
the  same  hand  as  the  text,  certainly  contemporary.  It  was  not  till  after 
I  had  printed  the  ballad  that  I  discovered  that  these  scribblings  consist 
of  four  stanzas  of  the  same.  As  anything  which  can  throw  light  on 
this  very  difficult  text  seems  worth  recording  I  print  below  as  much  of 
the  scribble  as  I  have  been  able  to  decipher.  Doubtful  letters  are 
printed  in  italic  and  where  the  text  is  wholly  illegible  a  dot  indicates 
the  space  of  probably  one  letter. 

fol.  36a. 

.  .  .     tede 

of  ]>e  burw  heo  gune  \\fie  al  for 25 

>e  stre  was  bo  fin  sutell  7  seiie     .  .     to     .  .  die 

to  hi  |>at  weldet  sone  7  mone  bios 

lowe  he  liste  ut  of  is  t'ne  •  to  salue  us  alle  q  .  .  .     7  d  .  .  .  . 

fol.  36b-37a. 
...  go  .  is  wille  wrche  fe  riste  wise  kine  wit  utte  roust  37 

ne  wkinc  ful  hei  corun  iborun  was  i  a  asse  bos  . 

he  wrede  ane  criine  of  )mrne  •  T  worde  he  weld  wit  ute  scuis 

Jm  mo  J?at  fu  ne  beo  lore  •  for  alle  dedes  fat  )m  dous 

fol.  37b-38a. 
.  .  .  Twtiis  werun  acnen  ysete  7  herit  fat  child  of  hede  hewe  •  29 

heo  lutel  were  J?e  J>eit  for  kinc  heo  hi  wl  wel  a  cnewe 

es  fe  hauet  igret  •  ibrout  heo  habbit  a  p'sent  neowe  • 

6it  pei  h'rodes  lont  fur  saken  a  angel  us  saide  he  nas  nout  t  .  .  . 

fol.  41b-42a. 

]>eis  kinchis  weren  bofe  some  7  saite  •  7  vnd'  fonke  was  here  sonde  •    dude  he  wel  to . .  33 
a  slepit  al  fat  alke  neitte  •  asse  trewe  wit  ute  nit  7  onde  stede  •         de . . 

Jy  .  .  om  on  angele  7  he  a  waste  •  7  >ene  riste  \\ei  he  taitte  harnard  i  to  h're  how  .... 

It  is  unfortunate  that  while  in  several  passages  where  the  full  text 
is  corrupt  these  jottings  seem  to  offer  a  different  reading,  this  reading  is 
either  illegible  or  unintelligible. 


236  Miscellaneous  Notes 

25.     lifie,  doubtful;  perhaps  from  lij>an  =  go,  travel:  text  riden.     lede  perhaps 
belongs  to  1.  26. 

37.  wrche,  wurehen,  work  :  text  wrouten. 

38.  wkinc,  k  altered  from  h. 

bos  .  ,  the  missing  letter  might  be  equally  well  e  or  t. 

39.  weld,  text  ede. 

40.  dous,  this  preserves  the  rime  ;  text  doest. 

30.     J>ett,  for  yeit,  a  misreading  of  y  ( =  »  for  y  ( =  y  \ 

wl,  i.e.  vul,  pull. 

32.     The-  reading  at  the  beginning  of  this  line  appears  to  be  different  from  that  in 
tlie  text  :  saken  here  does  not  bear  out  the  proposed  emendation. 
35.     b  .  .  om,  no  doubt  /'com. 

W.  W.  GREG. 

CAMBRIDGE. 


'A  LUUE  RON'  AND  'Or  CLENE  MAYDENHOD.' 

Apparently  attention  has  not  been  called  to  the  similarities  between 
A  Luue  Ron,  ascribed  to  Thomas  de  Hales  in  MS.  Jesus  College, 
Oxford,  29  f.  260  r,  c.  1275  (E.  E.  T.  S.  49,  p.  93  ff.),  and  Of  Clene 
Maydenhod  in  MS.  Vernon  f.  299,  c.  1370—80  (E.  E.  T.  S.  25  appendix; 
E.  E.  T.  S.  117,  p.  464  ff.). 

Both  pieces  are  in  four-stress  lines  abababab,  the  later  in  seventeen 
stanzas,  the  earlier  in  twenty-six  stanzas  with  two  extra  final  lines. 

In  the  matter  and  the  rime-sounds  of  stanza  1  the  pieces  are 
similar,  with  some  verbal  coincidences : 

Luue  Ron.  Clene  Maydenhod. 

A  Mayde  cristes  me  bit  yorne.  Off  a  trewe  loue  dene  &  derne 

\at  ich  hire  wurche  a  luue  ron.  I-chaue  I-write  )>e  a  Ron, 

For  hwan  heo  myhte  best  ileorne.  How  ]>ou  mai3t,  jif  >ow  wolt,  lerne 

to  taken,     on  oj>er  so)>  lefmon.  ffor  to  loue  |>i  letumon, 

J;at  treowest  were  of  alle  berne.  pat  trewest  is  of  alle  berne 

and  best  wyte  cuj>e  a  freo  wymmow.  And  most  of  loue  chacche  con. 

Ich  hire  mile  nowiht  werue.  Beo  war,  for  he  is  sumdel  steorne, 

ich  hire  wule  teche.  as  ic  con.  His  e}e  is  euere  J?e  vppon. 

The  similarities  between  the  groups  of  ideas  of  the  poems  is  shown 
in  the  following  synopses,  the  first  of  A  Luue  Ron,  the  second  of  Clene 
Maydenhod : 

I.  sts.  2 — 11,  the  fickleness  of  earthly  love  and  of  earthly  lovers  and 
the  transitoriness  of  both,  st.  11  ending  with  two  verses  indicating 
intention  to  direct  to  a  true  love;  II.  sts.  12 — 14,  the  charms  of  Christ, 
and  His  invitation  to  the  maiden  to  be  His  bride ;  III.  sts.  15 — 17,  the 
glories,  the  durableness,  and  the  bliss  of  Christ's  abode ;  IV.  st.  18,  the 
bliss  of  the  sight  of  Christ ;  V.  st.  19,  He  has  given  the  maid  a  precious 
treasure,  more  than  silver  and  gold,  that  she  is  to  guard  carefully; 
VI.  sts.  20 — 23,  the  gift  is  a  precious  gem  that  lost  cannot  be  found, 


Miscellaneous  Notes 


237 


that  is  more  precious  than  all  the  jewels,  and  it  is  called  '  Mayden-hod ' ; 
VII.  sts.  24 — 26,  address  to  the  maid  to  take  the  best,  to  choose  Christ, 
to  learn  these  verses  and  to  teach  them  to  other  maids,  to  sing  them 
and  to  do  as  they  bid — and  may  God  be  with  her  and  bring  her  to  His 
bridal  place  in  Heaven. 

I.  st.  2,  the  sweetness  and  the  fairness  of  Christ,  and  His  faithfulness 
in  love;  II.  sts.  3 — 6,  the  vanity  and  transitoriness  of  earthly  love  and 
the  fickleness  of  the  earthly  lover,  ending  with  commendation  of  Christ 
as  lover;  III.  sts.  7 — 11,  the  claims  of  Christ,  and  His  invitation  to  the 
maiden  to  be  His  bride;  IV.  st.  12,  the  streets  of  gold,  the  joyful  song, 
and  the  bliss  of  Heaven,  that  are  for  her  if  she  love  Christ  aright ; 
V.  sts.  13 — 14,  Christ's  love  of  chastity,  if  she  would  please  Him  let  her 
keep  chaste — let  her  never  lose  the  '  maiden  gem  '  ('  Mayden^Beige '), 
for  lost  it  cannot  be  found;  VI.  sts.  15 — 16,  Clene  Maidenhod  more 
precious  than  gold  of  Araby,  rings,  and  gem-stones,  the  treasures  of 
Asia  or  all  the  world — who  will  lock  this  gem  in  a  sweet  love-ring  shall 
ever  shine  bright  as  the  sun  and  have  favour  of  God  and  glory  among 
men;  VII.  st.  17,  a  prayer  to  Christ  to  aid  to  live  a  chaste  life  and  to 
win  the  bliss  of  Heaven. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  order  of  the  groups  of  ideas  is  the  same  in 
the  two  pieces,  except  in  the  location  of  part  of  the  declaration  of 
Christ's  claim  in  st.  2  of  Clene  Maydenhod  instead  of  with  sts.  7 — 1 1 ; 
and  in  the  shifting  to  st.  3  of  elements  in  the  end  (st.  11)  of  the  corre- 
sponding group  of  A  Luue  Ron. 

Further,  especially  close  similarity  in  phrasing  and  identity  of 
wording  of  ideas  that  are  similar  or  identical,  identity  in  one  or  both 
of  the  rime-sounds,  and  frequently  identity  of  rime- words,  are  found 
between  Luue  Ron,  st.  2,  Clene  Maydenhod,  st.  4 ;  L.  R.  st.  6,  G.  M. 
st.  5 ;  L.  R.  st.  11,  C.  M.  st.  3  ;  L.  R.  st.  12,  C.  M.  st.  7;  and  L.  R. 
sts.  13—14,  C.  M.  sts.  10—11. 

JOHN  EDWIN  WELLS. 
BELOIT  COLLEGE,  U.S.A. 


DONNIANA. 

Hymn  to  God,  my  God,  in  my  sicknesse  1.  6, 

Whilst  my  Physitians  by  their  love  are  growne. 

In  the  note  which  I  added  at  the  last  moment  to  my  edition  of 
Donne's  poems,  I  attributed  the  reading  '  Loer '  (which  I  took  to 
represent  '  Lore  ')  to  the  copy  of  this  poem  in  Sir  Julius  Caesar's  papers 


238  Miscellaneous  Notes 

(Add.  MS.  34,  324).     It  was  so  given  in  the  copy  made  for  me  and 
I  had  not  time  to  verify.     On  examining  the  MS.  myself  this  spring 
I  found  the  true  reading  was  *  Love.' 
The  Undertaking.     11.  4—5, 

It  were  but  madness  now  to  impart 
The  skill  of  specular  stone 

and  To  the  Countesse  of  Bedford  ('  Honour  is  so  sublime  perfection '), 
11.  28—30. 

You  teach  (though  we  learne  not)  a  thing  unknown 
To  our  late  times,  the  use  of  specular  stone, 
Through  which  all  things  within,  without  were  shown. 

In  my  note  to  the  first  of  these  passages  I  conjectured  that  Donne 
referred  here  to  crystal-gazing ;  and  Mr  Chambers  suggests  a  reference 
to  Dr  Dee's  'show  stone.'  The  following  extract  from  the  Sermons 
50.  27.  230  seems  to  show  that  Professor  Norton  was  right  in  taking 
'  specular '  to  be  equivalent  simply  to  '  translucent ' — a  stone  which,  cut 
in  the  right  way,  had  the  properties  of  glass  :  '  The  heathens  served 
their  Gods  in  Temples,  sub  dio,  without  roofs  or  coverings,  in  a  free 
opennesse ;  and,  where  they  could,  in  Temples  made  of  Specular  stone, 
that  was  transparent  as  glasse,  or  crystall,  so  as  they  which  walked 
without  in  the  streets,  might  see  all  that  was  done  within.'  Could 
some  classical  scholar  say  what  is  Donne's  authority  for  this  statement? 

My  attention  was  called  last  year,  just  after  my  edition  had  appeared, 
by  Mr  Geoffrey  Keynes  to  a  copy  of  the  1633  edition  of  Donne's  Poems 
with  corrections  in  a  seventeenth  century  hand,  which  is  in  the  Library 
of  Corpus  Christi  College,  Oxford.  I  visited  this  library  in  1911,  to 
examine  a  manuscript  to  which  my  attention  had  been  drawn  by 
Mr  Chambers'  edition  of  Donne's  Poems,  but  the  librarian  being  absent 
at  the  time,  I  left  without  knowing  anything  of  this  corrected  copy, 
of  which  Mr  Chambers  (an  alumnus  of  Corpus)  makes  no  mention. 
A  careful  list  of  the  corrections  has  been  made  for  me  by  Mr  Frederick 
Rose,  from  which  it  is  clear  that  they  are  generally  negligible.  The 
corrector  had  come  into  possession  of  a  copy  of  the  1635  or  1639  edition 
and  simply  entered  the  later  and  generally  inferior  readings  in  place  of 
those  of  1633.  The  following  items,  however,  are  of  interest. 

The  corrector  inserts  (from  the  1635  edition)  the  Hexastichon  ad 
Bibliopolam,  but  transfers  '  Incerti '  to  the  end  and  writes  beneath  it 
'  R.  B.'  He  apparently  attributes  the  lines  to  the  R.  B.  who  wrote 
the  elegy  '  In  memory  of  Dr  Donne  '  beginning 

Donne  dead  ?    'Tis  here  reported  true  though  I 
Ne'r  yet  so  much  desir'd  to  heare  a  lye. 


Miscellaneous  Notes 


239 


I  have  suggested  in  my  notes  that  the  author  of  these  lines  was 
Ralph  Brideoak  who  proceeded  M.A.  at  Brasenose  College  in  1636,  and 
contributed  an  Elegy  on  Jonson  to  Jonsonus  Virbius  in  1638.  His 
Elegy  on  Donne  (if  it  be  Brideoak)  closes  with  an  Epitaph.  If  the 
corrector  were  an  Oxford  man  himself,  it  is  quite  probable  that  he  knew 
Brideoak.  The  Elegies  throughout  bear  witness  to  the  popularity  of 
Donne  with  the  young  Oxford  and  Cambridge  men  of  the  thirties.  . 

In  The  Curse,  11.  14 — 16,  it  will  be  remembered  that  for  the  text  of 
1633  which  runs, 

In  early  and  long  scarcenesse  may  he  rot, 
For  land  which  had  been  his,  if  he  had  not 
Himselfe  incestuously  an  heire  begot. 

the  editions  1635-69  substitute  another  version  : 

Or  may  he  for  her  vertue  reverence 
One  that  hates  him  onely  for  impotence, 
And  equall  Traitors  be  she  and  his  sense. 

The  corrector  inserts  these  lines  at  the  foot  of  the  page  and  adds : 

'  It  seems  this  is  the  right  for  ye  other  is  a  conceite  of  Marstons 
in  his  satyres. 

Now  tell  me  Ned  w*  may  that  gallant  be 
Who  to  obtaine  intemperate  luxurie 
Cuckolds  his  older  brother,  gets  an  heire 
Whereby  his  hopes  are  turned  to  despaire. 

I  am  for  priuitie  Sr  &  Donne  was  never  an  Imitator.' 

I  had  noted  this  and  some  other  parallels  to  Donne's  work  in  Bullen's 
edition  of  The  Works  of  Marston,  but  at  the  last  forgot  to  insert  them. 
I  do  not  think,  however,  that  they  establish  the  corrector's  point.  The 
lines  are  taken  from  the  Scourge  of  Villainy,  Satire  X.  '  Satira  Nova. 
Stultorum  plena  sunt  omnia.  To  His  Very  Friend,  Master  E.  G.'  This 
satire  was  added  in  1599.  By  that  time  copies  of  Donne's  witty  poems 
may  have  already  been  in  circulation  at  any  rate  among  Donne's  friends ; 
and  the  E.  G.  who  is  Marston's  '  very  friend '  may  be  the  E.  G.  to  whom 
Donne  addressed  the  verse-letter  first  printed  by  Mr  Gosse.  See  my 
Poems  of  John  Donne  I,  p.  208. 

H.  J.  C.  GRIERSON. 

ABERDEEN. 


240  Miscellaneous  Notes 

THE  PLACE-NAME  '  HALE/  '  HAILE,'  '  HAUGH,'  '  EALE.' 

This  name,  together  with  its  plural  '  Hales,'  l  Hailes,'  etc.  is  fairly 
common  in  England  and  Scotland.  In  the  case  of  '  Hale,'  Lanes.,  Wyld 
cites  the  early  forms  Halas,  Halgh,  Hales,  Hale.  From  these  it  is  clear 
that  the  Lanes,  pi.  n.  Hale  and  the  Scottish  and  north  England  dialect 
word  hough,  which  also  occurs  in  pi.  ns.,  have  the  same  origin,  viz.  O.E. 
halh.  Before  discussing  the  meaning  of  halh  we  may  consider  the* 
meanings  of  the  modern  dialect  words  haugh,  hale,  eale.  According  to 
the  English  Dialect  Dictionary  [E.D.D.]  haugh,  which  is  used  only  in 
Scotland  and  the  north  of  England,  means  'low-lying,  level  ground  by 
the  side  of  a  river.'  Hale,  used  in  Lanes,  and  Lines,  and  the  Midland 
counties,  means  (1)  'a  piece  of  flat,  alluvial  land  by  the  side  of  a  river; 
a  sandbank ' ;  (2)  '  a  triangular  corner  of  land,  a  "  gair " ;  a  bank  or 
strip  of  grass,  separating  lands  in  an  open  field.'  Eale,  also  spelt  eel, 
is  used  in  Northd.,  and  means  'low,  flat  marshy  ground  by  the  side  of 
a  river;  a  haugh.' 

These  three  words  are  all  derived  by  N.E.D.  from  O.E.  healh,  to 
which  the  meaning  '  nook,'  '  corner '  is  given.  In  O.E.  charters  the 
following  forms  occur  in  a  number  of  local  names : 

Nom.  and  Ace.  Sing.  healh,  halh,  heal. 

Dat.  Sing.  hale. 

Nom.  and  Ace.  PL  healas,  halas. 

Dat.  Plural.  halan. 

These  forms  are  preceded  by  a  noun  in  the  gen.  case,  which  is  either 
a  personal  name  or  a  common  noun,  or  else  the  adj.  east  or  west.  They 
occur  also  as  prefixes  in  the  names  Halhford,  healhtune  (see  Middendorf, 
Altenglisches  Flurnamenbuch,  pp.  69,  70).  How  are  we  to  interpret  these 
forms  ?  Bosw. -Toller  under  healh  says  '  a  word  of  doubtful  meaning.' 
The  only  instances  in  O.E.  of  healh,  halh  cited  by  Bosw.-Toller,  apart 
from  place-names,  are  the  two  following :  (1)  '  On  J?am  hale  his  cyrcan,' 
Life  of  St  Guthlac ;  (2)  '  on  halum/  which  translates  in  abditis  of  the 
Psalter.  There  is  further  a  third  instance,  '  gefeall  him  in  anan  heale/ 
in  the  Vision  of  Leofric,  edited  in  Trans,  of  the  Philol.  Soc.  for  1908 
by  A.  S.  Napier.  In  each  of  the  above  cases  the  word  in  question 
clearly  means  'corner,'  'recess.' 

In  Middle  English  hale  means  '  corner,'  '  cranny,'  as  in  two  passages 
cited  by  Stratmann-Bradley :  (1)  'in  one  swi)?e  di^ele  hale,'  in  the  poem 
known  as  the  Owl  and  the  Nightingale,  1.  2.  (2)  'From  hale  to  hurne/  in 


Miscellaneous  Notes  241 

an  early  Mid.  English  Psalter.  Hume  is  O.E.  hyrne,  'corner,'  'angle.'  We 
are  thus  led  to  the  conclusion  that  in  the  pi.  ns.  occurring  in  O.E.  charters 
the  element  healh,  halh  must  have  the  meaning  of  '  corner '  or  '  angle.' 
How  then  are  we  to  account  for  the  meaning  of  the  modern  dialect  words 
haugh,  hale,  and  eale  ?  N.E.D.  suggests  that  a  '  haugh '  originally  meant 
the  'corner  or  nook  of  land  in  the  bend  or  angle  of  the  river.'  In  support 
of  this  suggestion  we  may  instance  O.E.  hamm,  '  inner  or  hind  part  of 
the  knee,'  the  modern  form  of  which,  ham,  occurring  frequently  in  pi. 
ns.,  is  defined  by  E.D.D.  as  '  flat,  low-lying  pasture  land  near  a 
stream  or  river.'  According  to  H.  Jellinghaus,  Die  Westfdlischen  Orts- 
namen,  the  Low  German  word  ham,  which  is  the  same  as  O.E.  hamm, 
is  used  of  a  creek  or  cove,  a  corner  of  land  by  the  water,  generally 
overgrown  with  grass,  and  serving  as  pasture.  Thence,  he^says,  M.L. 
German  ham,  hamme  meant  pratum,  pascuum  (Stenton,  in  his  paper 
on  Place-names  of  Berkshire,  says  that  hamm  and  halh  have  much  the 
same  meaning,  and  wherever  one  is  common  in  pi.  ns.,  the  other  is 
rare).  The  meaning  '  angle '  for  halh  also  explains  the  second  meaning 
of  '  hale,'  cited  above  from  E.D.D.,  viz.  '  a  triangular  corner  of  land.' 

It  remains  to  say  a  few  words  on  the  forms  haugh,  hale,  eale.  The 
first,  the  Middle  English  forms  of  which  are  halche,  hawch,  hawgh, 
is  a  normal  development  from  O.E.  halh ;  cp.  the  Scottish  saugh,  sauch 
from  O.E.  salh  'willow.'  The  second  is  Middle  English  hale,  derived 
from  O.E.  inflected  cases,  hale,  halum,  etc.,  which  must  have  had  a 
short  stem-vowel  in  the  late  O.E.  period,  as  well  as  a  vowel  length- 
ened after  the  dropping  of  h.  In  eale  or  eel  the  initial  h  has  been 
dropped,  as  frequently  in  dialects,  and  the  stem-vowel  raised  (after  being 
fronted)  to  [I],'  which  is  also  quite  usual  in  some  northern  dialects  in  the 
case  of  O.E.  short  a  in  an  open  syllable.  In  conclusion  it  may  be  noted 
that  the  Old  Norse  word  hali  '  den,'  '  wild  beast's  lair,'  is  used  in  Norse 
place-names,  according  to  R-ygh,  with  the  meaning  'long,  narrow,  winding 
road,'  also  'long,  tongue-like  projection  on  a  hill  or  mountain.'  It  is 
possible  that  this  Old  Norse  word  may  have  been  used  in  some  parts  of 
England  and  confused  with  the  inflected  forms  of  O.E.  halh. 

W.  J.  SEDGEFIELD. 
MANCHESTER. 


M.  L.  R.  IX.  16 


242  Miscellaneous  Notes 


'  HERKINALSON.' 

This  odd-looking  word  had  some  currency  in  the  earlier  half  of 
the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  as  the  following  quotations  will  show. 

(1)  Bp  Jewel,  A  Defence  of  the  Apologie  Part  4  (ed.  1567),  p.  380, 
in  a  lively  handling  of  the  legend  of  Pope  Joan,  writes  : 

For  thus  he  saithe  in  effects,  What  if  the  Pope  were  Hermaphroditus,  an 
Herkinalson,  that  is  to  saie,  a  man,  and  a  woman  bothe  in  one  ? 

(2)  T.   Kendall,  Flowers  of  Epigrams  (1577)   sig.  A  (=  Spenser 
Society's  reprint  p.  17): 

My  mothers  tyme  of  trauaile  came, 

her  throwes  and  thrutches  past : 
A  mungrill  Herkinalson,  she 

did  bryng  me  forthe  at  last. 

This  is  a  rendering  of  the  line 

lam,  qui  sum  natus,  Hermaphroditus  eram 

of  a  well-known  medieval  epigram  which  may  be  found  in  Riese, 
Anthologia  Latina  No.  786,  or  in  Baehrens,  Poet.  Lat.  Min.  vol.  4,  p.  114. 

(3)  Arthur  Golding,  The  Trewnesse  of  the  Christian  Religion  (1587), 
ch.  xxvi,  p.  458  : 

Concerning  the  creation  of  Man,  the  ^Egiptians  say  hee  was  created  both  Male 
and  female.  Herevpon  Plato  gathereth  that  he  was  a  Manwoman  or  Herkinalson. 

The  original  has 

...Platon  en  a  retire  qu'il  fut  fait  Androgyne,  ou  Hermaphrodite. 

(De  la  Verite  de  la  Religion  chrestienne  :  par  Philippes  de  Mornay, 
Anvers  1581,  p.  620.) 

(4)  Lastly,  in  a  long  and  entertaining  enumeration   of  '  sprites ' 
and  monsters,  occurs  this  line : 

herrnafrodites,  herkinnalsons,  Eatons>  pickehornes,  &  lestrigoni. 

The  Buggbears  in,  iii,  71,  in  R.  W.  Bond's  Early  Plays  from  the  Italian 
p.  117.  The  date  of  this  anonymous  composition  is  very  probably  circa 
1565. 

These  instances  of  the  word  leave  us  in  no  doubt  as  to  its  meaning. 
Its  etymology  is  not  so  evident.  (Mr  Bond,  in  his  note  on  the  Buggbears 
passage,  has  made  a  suggestion  improbable  as  to  form  and  bearing  no 
relation  to  the  meaning  of  the  word.)  Can  it  be  that  '  Herkinalson ' 
was  deliberately  invented  by  some  Tudor  wit  as  a  vernacular  rendering 
of  '  Hermaphroditus ' — that  it  is  made  up  of  a  male  and  female  English 


Miscellaneous  Notes  243 

name  ?  The  latter  part  will  then  represent  '  Alison.'  The  dissyllabic 
form  actually  occurs  in  Jacke  Jugeler,  where  the  character  styled  in 
the  Dramatis  Personae  'Ales  trype  and  go1 '  appears  later  as  '  Aulsoon 
tripe  and  goo  '  (ed.  Grosart  p.  40).  The  former  part,  '  Herkin/  looks  like 
a  diminutive  of  '  Herry '  or  '  Harry.'  Such  diminutives  were  fairly 
numerous — '  Jankin,' '  Wilkin,'  '  Tomkin,'  etc.  Of  '  Herkin '  or  '  Harkin ' 
I  have  as  yet  come  across  no  instance  in  our  early  literature ;  but  it 
has  survived  (like  Hodgkin,  Wilkins,  etc.)  in  the  surnames  Harkin  and 
Harkins. 

WALTER  WORRALL. 
OXFORD. 


THE  ETYMOLOGY  OF  'BUCKRAM.' 

In  the  New  English  Dictionary  the  etymology  of  this  word  is 
discussed  at  some  length,  but  inconclusively,  the  final  verdict  being 
that  'of  the  ultimate  etymology  nothing  is  really  known.'  Among 
other  suggested  derivations  that  from  Bokhara  is  mentioned,  only  to 
be  rejected.  Yet  this  is  the  derivation  accepted  unhesitatingly  by 
MM.  Hatzfeld  and  Darmesteter  in  their  Dictionnaire  General,  in  which 
bougran  is  described  as  '  deriv6  de  Boukhara,  ville  d'Asie,  d'ou  venait 
au  moyen  age  ce  tissu,  beaucoup  plus  fin  que  le  bougran  de  nos  jours. 
Le  suffixe  de  derivation  (an  non  ain)  indique  que  le  mot  fran9ais  est 
emprunte  a  une  forme  italienne  aujourd'hui  inusitee,  bucherano.'  I  now 
find  this  etymology  endorsed  by  the  distinguished  philologist,  M.  Antoine 
Thomas,  who  in  a  note  on  the  word  bocaran,  in  his  edition  of  L' Entree 
d'Espagne,  recently  issued  by  the  '  Societe  des  Anciens  Textes  Fran^ais,' 
says  '  Bocaran  designe  proprement  une  etoffe  fabriquee  a  Boukhara.' 

PAGET  TOYNBEE. 

BURNHAM,    BUCKS. 


Two  ENGLISH  TRANSLATIONS  OF  SCHILLER'S  '  WALLENSTEIN.' 

1.  In  modern  bibliographies  (e.g.  Goedeke,  and  Rea,  Schiller's 
Dramas  and  Poems  in  England,  London,  1906,  p.  146)  the  list  of 
translations  of  Schiller's  Wallenstein  begins  with  Coleridge's  translation 
of  the  Piccolomini  and  Wallensteins  Tod,  1800,  and  passes  then  to 
^George  Moir's  translation  of  these  dramas  in  1827. 

1  i.e.,  Alice  Trip-and-go. 

16—2 


244  Miscellaneous  Notes 

The  Biographia  Dramatica  of  Baker,  Reed  and  Jones,  1812,  how- 
ever, records  the  following  (Vol.  ill,  p.  149)  :  '  The  Piccolomini  s.  Drama, 
in  five  acts ;  with  a  Prelude,  entitled,  Wallensteiris  Camp.  Written  by 
Frederic  Schiller  and  rendered  into  English  by  a  Gentleman.  8°.  1806. 
In  this  translation,  Schiller  himself  would  hardly  recognise  his  own 
drama.  Never  performed.'  An  entry  in  Lowndes's  Bibliographical 
Manual  reads :  '  Piccolomini,  a  drama,  translated,  Lond.  1805.  8°.' 
It  is  in  all  likelihood  this  translation  which  is  also  noticed  in  the 
Monthly  Review,  Vol.  50  (1806),  p.  329  :  '  The  Piccolomini' s,  a  Drama  in 
five  Acts.  From  the  German  of  Schiller.  8°.  Chappie.  This  Drama 
is  so  disfigured  by  the  translator,  that  it  would  be  an  act  of  great 
injustice  to  criticise  it  as  a  work  of  Schiller.' 

Of  this  translation,  however,  which  is  not  in  the  British  Museum, 
there  would  appear  to  have  been  hitherto  no  other  record  than  the 
above.  But  the  University  Library  here  has  a  copy  of  a  translation  of 
Wallenstein,  which  is  probably  what  is  referred  to  in  the  above  entries. 
It  comprises  Wallenstein  s  Camp  and  The  Piccolomini  s.  In  the  copy 
before  me,  they  are  bound  together,  but,  as  each  has  its  own  pagination, 
they  may  have  been  published  separately.  Only  The  Piccolomini  s  has  a 
title-page.  It  reads  :  '  The  Piccolomini's  :  a  Drama  in  five  acts.  From 
the  German  of  Schiller ...  Albion  Press:  published  by  J.  Cundee, 
[London],  and  sold  by  C.  Chappie,  1805.'  But  though  the  title-page  of 
the  Camp  is  wanting,  the  paper,  print  and  general  arrangement  leave 
little  room  for  doubt  that  the  two  translations  belong  to  one  another. 
Any  possible  doubt  is  removed  by  the  fact  that  the  water-mark  on  the 
paper  in  both  parts  is  '  1804.'  It  may  therefore  be  taken  as  certain 
that  the  date  of  the  Camp  is  also  1805. 

The  preface  to  the  Piccolominis  concludes  with  the  following 
sentence :  '  This  play,  with  its  sequel,  "  The  Death  of  Wallenstein," 
intended  for  publication  in  a  few  days,  are  considered  the  Chef  d'Oeuvres 
of  the  incomparable  Schiller,  whose  transcendent  genius,  the  English 
author  is  conscious  of  his  utter  inability  to  transfuse,  or  do  justice  to  in 
the  present  work.'  (The  italics  are  mine.)  But  even  the  Biographia 
Dramatica  does  not  record  this  translation  of  Wallensteins  Tod.  If, 
however,  it  was  actually  completed  (and  the  preface  is  so  exact  about 
the  matter  that  one  might  fairly  come  to  that  conclusion),  this  transla- 
tion has  the  distinction  of  being  the  earliest  complete  translation  of 
Wallenstein  in  English. 

Further,  whether  or  not   Wallensteins  Tod  was  actually  translated, 
it  is  in  any  case  much  the  earliest  translation  of  the  Lager,  Leveson 


Miscellaneous  Notes  245 

Gower's  translation,  which  has  been  hitherto  regarded  as  the  earliest, 
only  appearing  in  1830. 

None  of  the  contemporary  bibliographical  works  afford  any  clue  as 
to  the  identity  of  the  translator. 

2.  But  Leveson  Gower's  translation  of  the  Lager  (1830)  cannot 
even  be  allowed  the  second  place  in  regard  to  chronology.  George  Moir, 
who  published  a  translation  of  the  Piccolomini  and  Wallensteins  Tod  in 
1827,  has  not,  till  lately,  been  credited  with  a  translation  of  the  Lager. 
In  fact,  in  his  preface  of  1827  he  says  himself:  'Unfortunately  this 

singular  drama  [the  Lager]  defies  translation The  idea  has  therefore 

been  abandoned  after  several  attempts  and  with  much  reluctance.'  But 
The  Cabinet  of  Friendship,  a  Tribute  to  the  Memory  of  the  Late  John 
Aitken  (London,  1834)  has  on  pp.  190 — 244  a  complete  translation  of 
the  Lager,  bearing  the  name  of  George  Moir.  There  is  a  note  on  p.  190 
to  this  effect :  '  The  following  translation  was  completed,  and  consider- 
able extracts  from  it  published  in  the  Foreign  Quarterly  Review,  No.  IX, 
some  months  prior  to  the  appearance  of  Lord  Leveson  Gower's  trans- 
lation.' No.  ix  of  the  Foreign  Quarterly  Revieiu  appeared  in  November 
1829.  The  extracts  of  which  Moir  speaks  occurred  in  a  review  on 
pp.  41 — 73  (obviously  by  Moir  himself)  of '  Walstein.  Tragedie  en  cinq 
Actes.  Par  P.  Ch.  Liadieres;  represented  sur  le  Theatre  Fran£ais  le 
22  Octobre,  1828.  Paris  1829.'  The  review  deals  mainly  with 
Wallensteins  Lager,  which  it  describes  and  appreciates  with  only 
occasional  reference  to  the  French  work.  The  extracts  amount 
altogether  to  about  700  lines  and  include  the  whole  of  Scene  I,  the 
whole  of  Scene  VI  and  the  Sermon  of  the  Capuchin.  They  differ  only 
occasionally,  and  only  in  individual  words,  from  the  complete  translation 
in  the  Cabinet  of  Friendship. 

According  to  Moir's  statement,  therefore,  the  translation  must  have 
been  completed  in  1829.  It  was  probably  this  translation  which  was 
reprinted  in  Boston  in  1837  (see  Lieder,  Journal  of  English  and 
Germanic  Philology,  Vol.  vui,  1909,  pp.  272 — 273). 

Moir  is  therefore  the  second,  if  not  the  first,  translator  of  the  whole 
of  Wallenstein  in  English. 

HERBERT  SMITH. 
GLASGOW. 


246  Miscellaneous  Notes 

SHERIDAN'S  'VERSES  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  GARRICK'  AND  SCHILLER'S 
'PROLOG  ZUM  WALL'ENSTEIN.' 

Soweit  rair  bekannt  ist,  wurde  noch  nie  auf  die  Ahnlichkeit  auf- 
merksam  gemacht,  die  zwischen  Sheridan's  Verses  to  the  Memory  of 
Garrick  und  Schillers  Prolog  zum  Wallenstein  besteht.  Beide  Dichter 
betonen  die  Verganglichkeit  der  Schauspielkunst  im  Vergleich  zu  der 
Kunst  des  Malers,  des  Bildhauers  und  des  Dichters.  'Schnell  und 
spurlos  geht  des  Mimen  Kunst,  Die  wunderbare,  an  dem  Sinn  voriiber ' : 
1  All  perishable !  like  th'  electric  fire.'  Beide  zeigen,  wie  der  Mime 
muss  'geizen  mit  der  Gegenwart';  Sheridan  fiihrt  diese  Ausnutzung 
jeden  Augenblicks  starker  aus  seinem  Ziele  entsprechend,  Garricks 
Kunst  zu  preisen.  Beide  aber  stimmen  tiberein,  dass  der  Mime 

Muss  seiner  Mitwelt  machtig  sich  versichern 
Und  im  Gefiihl  der  Wiirdigsten  und  Besten 
Ein  lebend  Denkmal  sich  erbaun — So  nimmt  er 
Sich  seines  Namens  Ewigkeit  voraus, 
Denn  wer  den  Besten  seiner  Zeit  genug 
Gethan,  der  hat  gelebt  fiir  alle  Zeiten. 

Where  is  the  blest  memorial  that  ensures 

Our  Garrick's  fame? — whose  is  the  trust? — 'Tis  yours.... 


Still  in  your  heart's  dear  record  bear  his  name  ; 
Cherish  the  keen  regret  that  lifts  his  fame  ; 
To  you  it  is  bequeath'd — assert  the  trust, 
And  to  his  worth — 'tis  all  you  can — be  just. 


And  with  soft  sighs  disperse  th'  irreverent  dust 
Which  Time  may  strew  upon  his  sacred  bust. 

Die  Ahnlichkeit  des  Versbaus  ist  offerisichtlich. 

KARL  HOLL. 
READING. 


AN  EPISODE  IN  VICTOR  HUGO'S  'NOTRE  DAME  DE  PARIS.' 

At  its  very  appearance  Notre  Dame  de  Paris  was  welcomed  by 
reviewers  as  a  work  remarkable  for  its  erudition.  '  Le  premier  volume 
surtout  renferme  toutes  les  connaissances  que  Ton  acquiert  dans  une  vie 
de  benedictin1/  wrote  one  critic.  Another  said  :  '  Pourquoi  M.  Victor 
Hugo  ne  se  presenterait-il  pas  a  1' Academic  des  Belles  Lettres?  S'il  faut 
avoir  fait  des  preuves  de  1'erudition,  il  y  en  a  dans  ce  livre2.'  Theophile 
Gautier  in  his  Prospectus  pour  Notre  Dame  de  Paris  mentioned  the 

1  L.  (Paul  Lacroix)  Mercure  du  XIXe  siecle,  mars— avril,  1831. 

2  N.  (Nisard)  Journal  des  Debats,  15  juin — 11  juillet,  1831,  published  also  in  Nisard, 
Ecole  romantique  (1891),  p.  121. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  247 

'  science  de  benedictin,'  the  '  deux  milles  in-folios  compulses/  '  une 
erudition  a  effrayer  un  Allemand  du  moyen  age  acquise  tout  expres1.' 
Even  Salvandry  in  his  Discours  de  Reception  spoke  of  the  'connaissance 
minutieuse  de  1'epoque,  la  fidelite  inepuisable  des  moeurs  et  du 
langage2.' 

Nor  is  this  the  fulsome  praise  of  flattering  admirers.  Some  years 
ago,  a  French  critic  and  philologist,  M.  Edmond  Huguet,  published 
a  considerable  study  of  some  of  the  sources  of  Notre  Dame,  following 
Hugo's  own  indication  of  his  authorities.  The  inevitable  conclusion  is 
that  Hugo  knew  some  of  them  a  fond  and  had  read  others  with  great 
care.  In  fact  it  might  be  said  of  almost  every  one  of  Hugo's  state- 
ments what  M.  Huguet  says  of  the  description  of  the  Palais  '  si 
detaillee  '  and  '  tres  documentee  ' — '  a  1'appui  de  chaque  phrase  on  peut 
citer  un  texte3.' 

In  that  work  swarming  with  wonderful  descriptions,  one  of  the  most 
striking,  it  may  be  remembered,  is  that  of  the  attack  on  the  Cathedral 
by  the  '  truands.'  '  Indeed,  nothing  can  exceed  the  vivid  painting,  the 
rich  colours,  and  the  fine  grotesque  illuminations4 '  of  this  scene.  In 
his  wild  efforts  to  save  Esmeralda,  Quasimodo  from  the  top  of  the 
Cathedral  hurls  down  on  the  surging  mob  an  enormous  beam  which 
sends  them  scattering  in  all  directions.  Soon,  however,  the  attack  is 
resumed.  Frenzied  with  anguish,  Quasimodo  suddenly  notices  the 
'  gouttieres  de  pierre  qui  se  degorgeaient  immediatement  au  dessus  de 
la  grande  porte.'  His  plan  was  quickly  formed.  Workmen  had  been 
repairing  about  the  roof.  They  had  left  wood  and  lead.  These 
Quasimodo  places  '  devant  le  trou  des  deux  gouttieres,  il  y  mit  le  feu 
avec  sa  lanterne.'  The  '  truands '  were  gathering  for  a  last  sally — '  un 
hurlement,  plus  epouvantable  encore  que  celui  qui  avait  eclate  et 
expire  sous  le  madrier,  s'eleva  au  milieu  d'eux.  Ceux  qui  ne  criaient 
pas,  ceux  qui  vivaient  encore,  regarderent.  Deux  jets  de  plomb  fondu 
tombaient  du  haut  de  1'edifice  au  plus  epais  de  la  cohue'. . . .  '  Audessous 
de  cette  flamme,  audessous  de  la  sombre  balustrade  a  trefles  de  braise, 
deux  gouttieres  en  gueules  de  monstres  vomissaient  sans  relache  cette 
pluie  ardente  qui  detachait  son  ruissellement  argente'  sur  les  tenebres 
de  la  fa£ade  inferieure5.' 

1  Theophile  Gautier,  Victor  Hugo,  pp.  91 — 94.    All  the  above  are  quoted  in  extenso  in 
the  appendix  to  Notre  Dame  de  Paris,  Ollendorf ,  MDCCCCIV. 

2  Quoted  by  L.  Maigron,  Le  Roman  historique,  1898,  p.  332,  note  1. 

3  Huguet,   Quelques  Sources  de  'Notre  Dame,  de  Paris,'  R.H.L.F.,   8e  annee   (1901). 
pp.  48,  425,  622. 

4  Gentleman's  Magazine,  January,  1834,  p.  82. 

5  Notre  Dame,  Livre  x,  Ch.  iv,  Un  maladroit  ami. 


248  Miscellaneous  Notes 

However  striking,  masterly,  and  powerful  this  scene  may  be,  it  is 
not  all  made  up  of  flimsy  poetic  fancy  :  at  bottom  it  has  its  gerrn 
of  truth.  Such  things  as  Hugo  here  describes  did  actually  take 
place.  The  following  seems  to  be  a  case  in  point,  where  we  have  the 
fire,  the  edifice,  the  patriarch,  and  his  company  celebrating  their 
feast. 

'  Albert  Goffuin,  chapelain,  est  condamne  par  sentence  du  7  Janvier 
151f  sur  la  requisition  du  promoteur  du  chapitre  a  huit  jours  de  prison 
pour  avoir  jete*  du  feu  du  haut  du  portail  ou  il  etait  place  sur  le 
patriarche  et  ses  consors  dans  le  temps  qu'ils  celebraient  leur  fete 
la  veille  de  1'Epiphanie1.' 

May  we  not,  with  some  show  of  truth  say  of  Hugo  what  he  himself 
said  of  his  great  model  in  the.  field  of  historical  romance :  *  Peu 
d'historiens  sont  aussi  fideles  que  ce  romancier2 '  ? 

W.  A.  M°LAUGHLIN. 

ANN  ARBOR,  MICHIGAN,  U.S.A. 

NOTES  ON  THE  'AMPHITRION'  AND  'Los  MENEMNOS'  OF 
JUAN  DE  TIMONEDA. 

Three  plays  of  Juan  de  Timoneda,  La  Comedia  de  Amphitrion, 
La  Comedia  de  los  Menemnos  and  Comedia  llamada  Cornelia,  were 
published  in  15593.  The  Comedia  de  Amphitrion  contains  a  prologue 
recited  by  Bromio,  an  old  shepherd;  Pascuala,  his  daughter  and  two 
young  shepherds,  Morato  and  Roseno.  After  an  introductory  song, 
Bromio  urges  Pascuala  to  declare  her  preference  for  one  of  her  suitors, 
Morato  or  Roseno,  both  of  whom  have  served  her  faithfully.  The 
maiden  replies  that  she  will  indicate  her  choice  by  a  sign,  and  turning 
to  the  young  men,  says : 

'  Sus  :  Toma,  Roseno,  esta  mi  guirnalda,  y  dame  la  tuya,  Morato.  Declarado 
queda  ya,  padre  mio,  a  quien  mas  destos  ama  mi  corazon.' 

After  her  departure,  the  lovers  dispute  as  to  the  meaning  of  her 
enigmatical  reply.  Each  adduces  good  reasons  why  he  should  be 

1  Dom  Grenier,  Introd.  a  Vhist.  gen.  de  la  Province  de  Picardie,  1856 — Mem.  de  la  Soc. 
des  Antiquaires  de  Picardie;  Docs,  inedits,  in,  p.  371,  referred  to  by  E.  K.  Chambers, 

.  The  Medieval  Stage  (i,  304),  who  mentions  in  the  same  connection,  among  others,  Kigollot 
and  Hide  who  note  the  same  case.  It  is  to  the  kindness  of  my  friend  and  colleague, 
Professor  C.  P.  Wagner,  that  I  owe  the  transcript  of  the  text  as  quoted. 

2  Hugo,    Walter  Scott :    a  propos  de   Quentin  Durward  in  Litterature  et  Philosophic 
Melees. 

3  These  three  plays  are  re-published  in  the  Obras  completas  de  Juan  de  Timoneda 
publicadas    por    la   Sociedad   de   Bibliofilos    valencianos,   Vol.    i,    Valencia,    1911.      Los 
Menemnos  was  re-printed  by  Moratin,  Origenes  del  teatro  espanol,  Biblioteca  de  autores 
espafioles,  Vol.  n,  and  by  Ochoa,  Tesoro  del  teatro  espanol,  Vol.  i,  Paris,  1838. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  249 

considered  the  favoured  one,  and  Bromio  finally  suggests  that  they 
refer  the  question  to  the  most  subtle  and  enamoured  wits  in  the  land. 
The  young  shepherds  agree,  and  Bromio  addresses  the  audience  as 
follows :  '  Nobles  y  apassionados  Senores  y  senoras  :  la  quistion  suso 
dicha  dexamos  en  mano  de  vuestras  mercedes  para  que  declaren  a 
qual  destos  dos  zagales  ama  y  quiere  mas  esta  zagala;  que  manana 
bolueremos  por  la  respuesta.'  Morato  and  Roseno  then  state  the 
argument  of  the  play,  and  the  prologue  ends  with  a  song  beginning : 

Dinos,  zagala,  qual  de  los  dos 
es  el  tu  amado? 

This  casuistical  discussion  is  derived  from  the  first  question  in  the 
fourth  part  of  Boccaccio's  Filocolo.  It  will  be  recalled .  that  while 
searching  for  Biancofiore,  Filocolo  is  obliged  by  reason  of  a  storm  to 
stop  at  Naples,  where  he  is  cordially  received  by  Fiamrnetta  and  her 
merry  companions.  One  afternoon,  Fiammetta  suggests  that  they 
amuse  themselves  by  proposing  questioni  d'amore  for  solution  to  a 
king  who  shall  be  elected  by  her  comrades.  She  herself,  however, 
is  chosen  as  queen,  and  thirteen  subtle  questions  are  offered  of  the 
same  type  as  the  troubadours  discussed  in  their  tenzoni.  The  first 
is  identical  with  the  subject  treated  in  the  prologue  of  Timoneda's 
A  mphitrion. 

In  the  Italian  version,  a  young  girl  is  urged  by  her  mother  to 
express  her  preference  for  one  of  her  two  suitors.  'Disse  la  giovane: 
cio  rni  piace;  e  rirniratili  amenduni  alquanto,  vide  che  1'  uno  avea 
in  testa  una  bella  ghirlanda  di  fresche  erbette  e  di  fiori,  e  1'  altro 
senza  alcuna  ghirlanda  dimorava.  Allora  la  giovane,  che  similemente 
in  capo  una  ghirlanda  di  verdi  fronde  avea,  levo  quella  di  capo  a  se, 
e  a  colui  che  senza  ghirlanda  le  stava  davanti  la  mise  in  capo ;  appresso 
quella  che  1'  altro  giovane  in  capo  avea  ella  prese  e  a  se  la  pose, 
e  loro  lasciati  stare,  si  torno  alia  festa,'  etc.  Except  that  Timoneda 
substituted  the  father  for  the  mother  of  the  maiden,  the  two  versions 
agree  in  their  essential  parts1. 

1  This  theme  is  first  suggested  in  the  Babylon ica  of  lamblichus  of  the  second 
century  A.D.  and  was  frequently  treated  in  medieval  and  Renaissance  poetry.  See  the 
interesting  article  of  Signor  Pio  Kajna,  'Una  questione  d'amore,'  published  in  Raccolta 
di  studii  critici  dedicata  ad  Alessandro  D'Ancona,  Firenze,  1901,  pp.  553 — 68,  and 
Adolfo  Gaspary,  Storia  della  letteratura  italiana,  Vol.  n,  parts  prima,  pp.  325 — 26. 
The  Congrega  dei  Kozzi  of  Siena  amused  themselves  with  Dubbi,  Casi  and  Quistioni 
of  the  same  type,  C.  Mazzi,  La  Congrega  dei  Eozzi,  Firenze,  1882,  Vol.  i,  124  ff.,  and 
similar  games  were  popular  in  Italian  society  in  the  sixteenth  century,  Eenier,  Giorn. 
stor.  della  left,  italiana,  Vol.  xm,  382  ff. 

Somewhat  similar  questions  are  discussed  in  the  Clarco  y  Florisea  of  Nunez  de 
Keinoso,  Biblioteca  de  autores  espafioles,  Vol.  in,  pp.  442 — 43.  See  the  interesting  article 


250  Miscellaneous  Notes 

The  episode  of  the  Thirteen  Questions  was  translated  into  Spanish 
by  D.  Diego  Lopez  cle  Ayala,  assisted  by  Diego  de  Salazar.  This 
translation  was  published  at  Seville  in  the  year  1546  with  the  title 
Laberinto  de  Amor,  and  again  at  Toledo  the  same  year  with  the  title, 
Trece  questiones  muy  graciosas  sacadas  del  Philoculo  del  famoso  Juan 
Bocacio.  It  has  already  been  pointed  out  that  the  anonymous  Spanish 
Question  de  Amor1  treats  a  subject  analogous  to  the  second  and  fifth 
questions  of  the  Filocolo.  The  theme  of  the  gifts  recalls  Lope  de 
Rueda's  Coloquio  llamado  Prendas  de  -Amor. 

La  Comedia  de  Amphitrion  purports  to  be  a  translation,  or  rather 
an  adaptation,  of  the  Amphitruo  of  Plautus.  It  is  certain,  however, 
that  Timoneda  simply  made  a  stage  version  of  the  translation  of  the 
Amphitruo  by  Francisco  Lopez  de  Villalobos  which  first  appeared  in 
the  year  1515.  The  two  versions  agree  textually  in  many  places  and 
the  last  scene  of  Timoneda's  play  is  derived  with  unimportant  changes 
from  the  complimiento  de  la  comedia,  sacado  de  otro  original,  in  which 
Villalobos  aims  to  offer  a  more  satisfactory  ending  to  the  Latin  play2. 

The  Comedia  de  los  Menemnos  is  preceded  by  a  prologue  in  which 
Cupid  and  three  shepherds,  Ginebro,  Climaco  and  Claudino,  are  the 
characters.  The  shepherds,  enamoured  of  the  shepherdess  Temisa, 
present  themselves  before  Cupid,  asking  him  to  decide  which  of  them 
the  maiden  should  prefer.  Claudino  has  boasted  to  Temisa  of  his 
physical  strength,  Climaco  has  assured  her  of  his  sincerity  and  generosity, 
while  Ginebro  has  urged  his  suit  on  the  plea  of  his  prudence  and 
wisdom.  Cupid  asks  which  of  the  lovers  she  has  chosen,  and  Climaco 
replies  that  Ginebro  has  been  the  favoured  one.  Cupid  approves  this 
choice,  declaring  that  neither  the  strength  of  Hercules  nor  the  generosity 
of  Alexander  the  Great  will  satisfy  a  discreet  woman,  but  only  the 
fruits  of  real  knowledge.  The  rejected  suitors  are  satisfied  with  this 
decision,  and  recite  the  argument  of  the  play. 

The  subject  of  this  prologue  is  identical  with  the  theme  treated  in 
the  third  questione  d'amore  of  the  Filocolo.  One  of  the  ladies  tells 
Fiammetta  that  from  among  her  suitors,  she  has  chosen  three  as  most 
worthy  of  her  love :  '  de'  quali  tre,  1'  uno  di  corporate  fortezza  credo 

of  Professor  Eudolph  Schevill,  Some  Forms  of  the  Riddle  Question  and  the  Exercise  of  the 
Wits  in  Popular  Fiction  and  Formal  Literature,  University  of  California  Publications  in 
Modern  Philology,  Vol.  n,  No.  3,  p.  223.  Certain  casos  de  amor  are  proposed  in  the 
prologue  to  Timoneda's  Comedia  llamada  Cornelia,  and  a  question  de  amor  forms  the 
subject  of  the  prologue  to  Alonso  de  la  Vega's  Comedia  de  la  Duquesa  de  la  Rosa  (1569). 

1  Pio  Eajna,  Le  Questioni  d'amore  nel  Filocolo,  Romania,  Vol.  xxxi,  pp.  28—81,  and 
Menendez  y  Pelayo,  Orifjenes  de  la  novela,  Vol.  i,  pp.  ccci — cccii  and  cccxxvii — cccxxx. 

2  The  version  of  Lopez  Villalobos  is  re-published  in  Vol.  xxxvi  of  the  Biblioteca  de 
autores  espanoles. 


Miscellaneous  Notes 


251 


che  avanzerebbe  il  buono  Ettore,  tan  to  e  ad  ogni  prova  vigoroso  e  forte; 
la  cortesia  e  la  liberalita  del  secondo  e  tanta,  che  la  sua  fama  per  ciascun 
polo  credo  che  suoni ;  il  terzo  e  di  sapienza  pieno  tanto,  che  gli  altri 
savii  avanza  oltra  misura.'  She  concludes  by  asking  the  advice  of 
Fiammetta,  who  decides  the  question  in  favour  of  the  learned  man,  as 
is  done  by  Cupid  in  Timoneda's  prologue. 

The  Comedia  de  los  Menemnos  purports  to  be  a  translation  of 
the  Menaechmi.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Timoneda  simply  borrowed 
the  most  important  incidents  from  Plautus  and  gave  the  new  version 
a  Spanish  setting  and  atmosphere.  The  parasite  Peniculus  has  become 
the  conventional  simple  and  the  scenes  in  which  he  takes  part  show 
the  widest  divergences  from  the  Latin  original.  The  figures  of  the 
doctor  Auerroyz  and  his  servant  Lazarillo  were  probably  borrowed  from 
Ariosto's  II  Negromante,  which  is  also  the  chief  source  of  Timoneda's 
Comedia  llamada  Cornelia.  The  Amphitrion  and  Los  Menemnos  are 
interesting  as  the  first  attempts  to  produce  Plautus  on  the  Spanish 
stage,  and  the  relation  of  the  prologues  to  Boccaccio's  Filocolo  offers 
additional  proof  of  the  dependence  of  the  Spanish  pastoral  drama  upon 
Italian  models. 

J.    P.    WlCKERSHAM   CRAWFORD. 
PHILADELPHIA,  U.S.A. 


RUMANIAN  'GEANA.' 

In  Rumanian  we  find  geand  <  gena  and  gene  <  genae  beside  bine  <  bene, 
tindr1  <  teneru.  The  difference  between  geand  and  gene  is  normal,  due 
to  the  influence  of  the  final  vowels2;  but  that  between  gene  and  bine 
seems  strange,  the  i  of  bine  being  a  regular  development.  Tiktin 
assumes  that  Latin  gena  had  long  e3 ;  but  it  is  hard  to  see  how  that 
would  help  matters,  in  view  of  normal  i  <  e  before  n :  cind  <  cena, 
plind  <  plena,  vine4  <  uenae.  The  difficulty  can  be  explained,  however, 
if  we  assume  that  quantity  was  distinguished  in  early  Rumanian. 
Italian  has  long  stressed  vowels  in  vedo  and  vidi,  but  short  ones  in 
vedono  and  visto,  free  vowels  being  long  in  paroxytones  but  not  else- 
where5. Something  of  this  kind  must  have  once  existed  in  Rumanian 

1  Also  tmar  with  vowel-harmony  ;  compare  inimaior*inima  <  anima,  femeie  <.familia, 
iiorod  =  Slavonic  narod  'folk.' 

2  Tiktin,  Rumanisches  Elementarbuch.  Heidelberg,  1905,  p.  32. 

3  Tiktin,  I.e.,  p.  24. 

4  Singular  vinii,  with  i  (a  sound  like  Polish  y)  due  to  v  ;  compare  vaz  <  *vedzu  <  uideo. 
r>  Malagoli,  Ortoepia  e  ortografia  italiana  moderna,  Milano,  1905,  p.  164. 


252  Miscellaneous  Notes 

and  the  other  Romanic  tongues :  compare  French  dette  <  debita  and 
doit  <  debet. 

The  normal  developments  of  Rumanian  stressed  vowels  are  as 
follows :  a  <  a,  ie  <e,  e<e,  e  <  /i,  i  <l,  o  <  o,  u<u.  Closer  sounds  are 
developed  before  intervocalic  n,  and  before  any  nasal  followed  by  an 
oral  consonant:  lina<lana,  vine  <  uenit,  bun  <bonu,  f ring  <frango, 
minte  <  mente,  munte  <  monte.  But  double  nasals  cause  no  change  : 
an  <  annu,  lemn  <  liijnu1  (lignu),  somn  <  somnu.  A  following  open  vowel 
causes  fractural  developments  :  tot  <  totu,  but  toatd  <  tota,  toate  <  totae ; 
negru  <  nigru,  but  neagrd  <  nigra ;  piatrd  <  petra  ;  vede  <  *veade 
(=  Macedonian  veade  =  Istrian  vede)  <  *vede  <  uidet.  The  curious 
development  e  <  ea  <  e  is  attested  by  words  that  have  lost  e,  as 
aved  =  avere'2  <  habere. 

As  Rumanian  distinguishes  ie  <  e  and  e  <  e,  we  may  consider  its 
primitive  vowel-system  to  have  been  a  e  e  i  o  u.  The  various  altera- 
tions of  e  and  e  can  be  explained  as  follows : 


teJcso 

teksat 

tenet 

genae 

gena 

tempus 

teneru 

plena, 

UX- 

itex- 

U- 

$*- 

K- 

tem- 

te- 

pie-, 

tet- 

tee- 

tee- 

dzee- 

d&et- 

tem- 

te- 

pie-, 

tic- 

tl€- 

tif- 

dzie- 

dzie- 

tem- 

te- 

pie-, 

tsie- 

tsie- 

tsie- 

<&- 

dzf- 

tem- 

te- 

pie-, 

tse- 

tse- 

tsi- 

<&e- 

dze- 

tim- 

ti- 

pli-, 

tse- 

tsea- 

tsi- 

dzea- 

dzea- 

tim- 

ti- 

pli-, 

tses 

tseasd 

tsine 

dzene 

dzand 

timp 

tindr 

plind. 

In  the  foregoing  table  all  hyphenated  forms  are  theoretic ;  stressless 
syllables  are  left  out,  as  their  relative  chronology  can  hardly  be  deter- 
mined. The  time  when  %  was  lost  is  not  known;  in  a  few  words  we 
find  ps<fs<'xs<  ks,  parallel  with  normal  pt<ft<yt<  kt. 

Those  who  are  familiar  with  the  history  of  French  arid  Portuguese 
know  that  a  checking  nasal  causes  change  more  readily  than  a  nasal  of 
the  next  syllable.  We  may  therefore  assume,  as  the  first  step,  that 
close  e  was  developed  in  the  derivative  of  tempus,  while  the  sound  e 
remained  open  in  tenet.  At  the  same  time  short  close  e  was  formed  in 
the  first  syllable  of  teneru,  because  of  nasal  influence,  while  tenet  (tenet) 
and  *$ene  kept  stressed  long  e.  Such  a  difference  in  the  treatment  of 
long  and  short  vowels  has  many  historic  parallels:  modern  Greek 
i<e<a  beside  a  <  a  <  a  ;  English  o  =  Scotch  e  <  a  (whole  =  hale) 
beside  less  altered  derivatives  of  short  a;  German  a<e  (Tat  'deed') 

1  For  Latin  gn  =  yn,  see  my  note  on  lignu  in  the  Modern  Language  Review  for  last 
October  (vin,  pp.  486  ff.).     The  symbol  e  means  open  e  ;  3  =  Rumanian  a  ;  x~ German  ch 
in  acht ;  ij  =  English  final  ng  ;  Q  =  Hungarian  gy. 

2  All  infinitives  have  double  forms,  with  and  without  -re. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  253 

beside  e <  e ;  Germanic  o  <o  beside  a <  o  ;  Slavonic  a <  a  beside  o  <  a ; 
French  e  or  ai  from  free  a,  beside  checked  a  kept  nearly  unchanged. 
The  Rumanian  sound  e  developed  through  ee  to  ie,  and  the  z  was 
absorbed  by  z  ;  in  the  same  way  i  has  been  absorbed  by  s  in  the 
Tuscan  utterance  of  cielo1.  Later  the  i  of  ie  altered  t  to  te,  parallel  with 
dece  >  *diece  >  zece  and  dico  >  zic,  which  are  still  pronounced  with  dz  in 
Moldavia2;  and  by  partial  assimilation  I'e  became  ie.  Before  a  checking 
nasal,  and  before  intervocalic  n,  each  vowel  became  a  degree  closer : 
ie  >ii  =  i;  e>i;  e>e.  Then  the  semi-vowel  i  (perhaps  voiceless)  was 
lost  after  s,  the  earlier  development  of  si  to  si  being  no  longer  active. 
When  *plen9  had  become  plin&,  there  occurred  fractures  due  to  a 
following  open  vowel,  and  in  some  cases  simple  vowels  were  formed 
again :  these  changes  need  not  be  discussed  here,  as  they  do  not 
concern  the  rest  of  the  development.  The  key  to  the  whole  problem 
lies  in  the  fact  that  dz  existed  much  earlier  than  ts,  and  thus  the  first 
elements  of  ie  and  ie  disappeared  at  different  times. 

EDWIN  H.  TUTTLE. 
NEW  HAVEN,  CONN.,  U.S.A. 

i  Malagoli,  I.e.,  p.  28.  2  Tiktin,  I.e.,  p.  60. 


REVIEWS. 

The  Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature.  Edited  by  Sir  A.  W. 
WARD  and  A.  R.  WALLER.  Vol.  x.  The  Age  of  Johnson.  Cam- 
bridge: University  Press.  1913.  8vo.  xv  +  562pp. 

The  tenth  volume  of  The  Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature 
brings  its  account  to  the  death  of  Johnson,  reserving,  however,  for  later 
treatment  the  plays  of  Sheridan  and  the  earlier  writings  of  Burke, 
Bentham,  Blake,  Cowper  and  Crabbe,  as  well  as  various  minor  authors 
like  Thomas  Amory,  Henry  Brooke,  as  playwright,  and  Thomas  Day, 
when  the  bulk  or  tone  of  their  writings  belong  to  the  next  age.  For 
the  most  part,  too,  the  authors  here  dealt  with  did  their  work  after 
Johnson  came  to  London.  Professor  Nettleton's  chapter  '  The  Drama 
and  the  Stage,'  Mr  Thompson's  '  Thomson  and  Natural  Description  in 
Poetry,'  and  Professor  Saintsbury's  '  Young,  Collins  and  Lesser  Poets  of 
the  Age  of  Johnson,'  indeed,  go  back  to  a  day  before  The  Beggars  Opera 
and  The  Dunciad ;  Professor  Ker's  *  Literary  Influences  of  the  Middle 
Ages '  naturally  begins  with  Hickes  and  Temple ;  Mr  Shaw's  '  Literature 
of  Dissent'  covers  the  period  1660 — 1760;  Archdeacon  Hutton's  'Divines' 
extends  from  Samuel  Johnson  'the  Whig'  (d.  1703)  to  the  Wesleys. 
But  to  a  notable  degree  the  subjects  of  the  book  belong,  by  chronology 
as  by  temper;  to  the  generation  which  takes  its  literary  name  from 
Dr  Johnson. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  the  title  originally  announced  for  this  volume, 
The  Rise  of  the  Novel :  Johnson  and  his  Circle,  has  been  modified  to 
The  Age  of  Johnson.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  the  novelists  take 
the  place  of  honour  in  the  first  chapters.  M.  Cazamian,  opening  the 
book  with  '  Richardson,'  furnishes  a  remarkably  compact  exposition  and 
a  just  and  subtle  critique.  His  analysis  of  Richardson's  first  popularity 
and  subsequent  loss  of  it,  and  his  account  of  the  foreign  influence  of  the 
novels,  calls  for  special  acknowledgment.  Mr  Child,  following  with 
*  Fielding  and  Smollett,'  who  share  a  chapter,  emphasizes  biographical 
facts  rather  than  criticism.  Disputed  points  he  avoids.  For  instance, 
he  does  not  even  mention  An  Apology  for  the  Life  of  Mrs  Shamela 
Andrews  (1741),  already  cited  by  M.  Cazamian  (p.  6),  which,  although 
one  cannot  be  sure  Fielding  wrote  it,  was  before  Joseph  Andrews  in 
parodying  Pamela  and  first  gave  to  Squire  B.  the  fuller  name  of  Booby. 
Professor  Vaughan  writes  on  '  Sterne,  and  the  Novel  of  his  Times.'  The 
discussion  of  Sterne's  qualities  is  full,  the  analysis  of  his  sentimentalism 


Reviews  255 

accurate.  Mackenzie  and  Brooke,  the  romance  of  terror  as  practised  by 
Walpole  and  Clara  Reeve,  and  the  ever-delightful  Fanny  Burney  come 
in  for  due  notice. 

One  misses  in  these  chapters,  however,  adequate  comment  on  the 
flood  of  minor  fiction  which  had  begun  to  rise  before  Johnson's  death 
and  which  indicates,  as  much  as  the  work  of  the  greater  men,  the  tastes 
of  the  time.  Francis  Coventry's  Pompey  the  Little,  or  the  Life  and 
Adventures  of  a  Lap-Dog  (1751),  and  Charles  Johnstone's  Chrysal,  or 
the  Adventures  of  a  Guinea  (1760),  chief  examples  of  a  long-continued 
tradition,  are  not  mentioned,  although  Chrysal  is  cited  in  a  later  chapter 
for  its  account  of  Medmenham  (p.  524) ;  Sarah  Fielding,  credited  in 
passing  with  David  Simple,  is  denied  a  bibliography;  the  testimony 
of  Charlotte  Lennox's  Female  Quixote  (1752)  and  George  Colman's 
Polly  Honeycombe  (1760)  to  the  contemporary  fashion  in  heroines,  is 
overlooked.  Rasselas,  of  course,  and  The  Vicar  of  WakefielcL,  are  dis- 
cussed elsewhere,  as  are  the  novels  of  Richard  Graves,  who  receives  high 
and,  in  the  main,  merited  praise  from  Archdeacon  Hutton  in  the  half 
chapter  on  '  The  Warwickshire  Coterie.'  But  taken  as  a  whole,  these 
various  treatments  still  leave  to  special  books  on  the  novel  the  task  of 
tracing  its  rise  and  flowering  in  the  eighteenth  century. 

Certain  additions  to  the  bibliography  would  assist  the  close  student : 
Charlotte  E.  Morgan,  The  Rise  of  the  Novel  of  Manners  (New  York, 
1911) ;  George  Saintsbury,  The  English  Novel  (London,  1913) ;  Fielding, 
Selected  Essays,  ed.  G.  H.  Gerould  (Boston  and  New  York,  1905); 
A.  Wood,  Einfluss  Fieldings  auf  die  deutsche  Literatur  (Yokohama, 
1895) ;  Austin  Dobson,  '  Fielding's  Library/  in  Eighteenth  Century 
Vignettes,  in ;  F.  B.  Barton,  Etude  sur  I  influence  de  Laurence  Sterne  en 
France  au  dix-huitieme  siecle  (Paris,  1911);  Walter  Bagehot, '  Sterne  and 
Thackeray,'  in  Literary  Studies,  II ;  Sir  Walter  Scott,  'Johnstone/  'Mac- 
kenzie,' 'Bage/  in  Lives  of  the  Novelists :  William  Beckford,  The  Episodes 
of  Vathek,  ed.  L.  Melville  (London,  1912);  Austin  Dobson,  '  The  Female 
Quixote,'  in  Eighteenth  Century  Vignettes,  I,  and  '  Polly  Honeycombe,' 
ibid.,  in;  J.  ten  Brink,  De  roman  in  brieven,  1740 — 1840;  eine  proem 
van  vergelijkende  letterkundige  geschiedenis  (Amsterdam,  1889). 

Johnson  and  his  immediate  circle,  after  more  than  a  century  of  dis- 
cussion, present  a  real  problem  to  the  critic  who  wishes  to  steer  equally 
clear  of  triteness  and  eccentricity.  Mr  Nichol  Smith,  dealing  with 
'Johnson  and  Bos  well/  and  Mr  Dobson,  with  'Goldsmith/  have  solved  the 
problem  by  keeping  close  to  facts,  giving  precise  and  detailed  biographies, 
and  building  upon  facts  such  comment  as  is  needed  to  complete  the 
account.  Mr  Nichol  Smith's  chapter,  the  longest  in  the  book,  scrupu- 
lous, sensible,  has  the  virtue  of  remembering  Johnson's  works  even  in 
the  presence  of  Johnson  the  man,  for  Mr  Nichol  Smith  believes,  very 
justly,  that  Johnson's  '  writings  give  us  his  more  intimate  thoughts,  and 
take  us  into  regions  which  were  denied  to  his  conversation'  (p.  158). 
The  period  of  writing,  consequently,  comes  in  for  larger  proportions  than 
the  period  of  talking ;  Johnson's  books  and  ideas  receive  more  attention 
than  his  personal  habits.  The  treatment  of  Boswell  is  shrewd  and 


256  Reviews 

reasonable.  As  for  Goldsmith,  he  here  finds  a  critic  whom  tastes,  learning, 
and  art  have  fitted  for  the  delicate  task  of  interpreting  an  author 
scarcely  second  to  any  in  English  for  essential  charm.  Lightly,  firmly, 
pointedly,  Mr  Dobson  has  built  up  the  figure  of  Goldsmith  out  of  the 
facts  of  his  life  and  work. 

The  bibliographies  to  these  chapters  are  admirable,  and  that  for 
'Johnson  and  Boswell'  particularly  full.  Chalmers'  English  Poets,  how- 
ever, ought  hardly  to  be  called  a  later  edition  of  Johnson's  Poets  (p.  462), 
even  though  it  includes  the  Lives.  One  might  add  Dr  Johnson  and 
Fanny  Burney.  Being  the  Johnsonian  Passages  from  the  Works  of  Mme 
DArblay;  ed.  C.  B.  Tinker  (New  York, '  1911),  and  H.  Sollas  Gold- 
smiths Einfluss  in  Deutschland  im  18.  Jahrhundert  (Heidelberg,  1903). 

Other  members  of  Johnson's  circle  are  noticed  in  other  chapters. 
Garrick  appears  both  as  actor,  in  Professor  Nettleton's  chapter,  and  as 
letter- writer,  in  Mr  Wheatley's  'Letter- Writers.'  This  last  chapter  takes 
account,  likewise,  of  the  correspondence  of  Fanny  Burney,  Hannah 
More,  and  Mrs  Elizabeth  Montagu,  and  of  the  Discourses  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  as  well  as  of  such  persons  of  note,  though  not  precisely 
followers  of  Johnson,  as  Horace  Walpole,  Lord  Chesterfield,  and  Gilbert 
White.  A  result  of  this  grouping  is  that  Reynolds  and  White,  while 
treated  with  discrimination  in  the  text,  seem  from  Mr  Wheatley's  biblio- 
graphy never  to  have  been  discussed  except  by  various  editors  of  the 
Discourses  and  Selborne,  or,  indeed,  to  have  written  anything  else. 
Reynold's  three  letters  to  The  Idler,  however,  are  given  in  the  Johnson 
bibliography. 

The  literary  heretics  of  the  age  receive  due  consideration.  Mr 
Thompson's  discussion  of  Thomson  emphasizes  '  the  attraction  which 
Milton  exercised  upon  the  method  of  natural  description  and  upon  the 
diction  of  The  Seasons'  (p.  96).  In  his  analysis  and  illustrations  of 
the  pictorial  methods  of  Thomson,  Mr  Thompson  excels;  his  evidence, 
in  the  bibliography,  as  to  Thomson's  foreign  influence  is  careful,  although 
he  might  perhaps  to  advantage  have  cited  Texte's  Rousseau,  Bk  ill, 
Ch.  iii,  for  notes  on  Thomson's  reception  in  France.  With  Thomson 
are  included  Jago,  Somervile,  also  spoken  of  in  '  The  Warwickshire 
Coterie,'  and  Lyttelton,  some  of  whose  writings  have  been  omitted,  it 
does  not  appear  on  what  principle,  from  his  bibliography,  along  with 
his  Memoirs  and  Correspondence  from  1734 — 73:  ed.  R.  Phillimore 
(London,  1845).  A  more  important  omission  is  Myra  Reynolds,  The 
Treatment  of  Nature  in  English  Poetry  between  Pope  and  Wordsworth 
(Chicago,  1909,  2nd  ed.).  Professor  Saintsbury,  too,  touches  figures 
whom  Johnson  did  not  wholly  approve,  in  Young,  Collins,  Dyer,  Shen- 
stone,  and  Akenside.  As  a  rule,  Professor  Saintsbury  agrees  with 
Johnson ;  Young  is  admitted  to  be  'a  man  of  genius  and  a  poet,'  but 
censured  for  extraordinarily  bad  art ;  Collins  has  been  put  with  the  '  lesser 
poets'  because  of  the  singular  irregularity  which  makes  Professor  Saints- 
bury  call  him,  at  his  worst,  a  mere  '  poetaster  of  the  eighteenth  century ' 
(p.  143).  Dyer  and  Green  Professor  Saintsbury  likes ;  he  justifies 
Akenside  and  Smart;  with  Blair,  Armstrong,  Glover,  Beattie,  and 


Reviews  257 

Falconer  he  is  kind  but  firm.  One  of  the  most  interesting  critical 
hints  of  the  chapter  is  the  suspicion  that  almost  all  eighteenth  century 
blank  verse  was  at  least  half-consciously  burlesque  (pp.  147 — 8).  In 
the  bibliography  no  reference  is  made  to  Collins,  Poems,  ed.  W.  C. 
Bronson  (Boston,  U.S.A.,  1898) ;  J.  Schaaf,  Richard  Glover.  Leben  und 
Werke  (Leipzig,  1900);  O.  Daniel,  William  Shenstones  'Schoolmistress' 
und  das  Aufkommen  des  Kleinepos  in  der  neuenglischen  Liter atur 
(Berlin,  1908). 

The  late  Mr  D.  C.  Tovey's  chapter  on  Gray  has  a  peculiar  interest 
as  the  last  word  spoken  by  a  Gray  specialist  of  long  devotion.  The  few 
incidents  of  Gray's  life  are  given  in  detail ;  but  even  then  space  remains 
for  close  comment  on  the  Elegy,  The  Progress  of  Poesy,  and  The  Bard. 
Mr  Tovey  insists  on  the  superiority  of  Gray's  letters  to  Walpole's  in 
'  depth  and  pathos '  (p.  135) ;  he  would  not  have  been  less  interesting 
if  he  had  cared  to  speak  more  of  Gray's  scholarship.  For  Mason,  his 
predecessor  in  editing  Gray's  letters,  Mr  Tovey  has  no  patience.  Three 
contributions  to  the  literature  concerning  Gray  deserve  mention  which 
Mr  Tovey  does  not  make ;  C.  E.  Norton,  The  Poet  Gray  as  a  Naturalist 
(Boston,  U.S.A.,  1903);  H.  E.  Krehbiel,  '  A  Poet's  Music,'  in  Music  and 
Manners  (New  York,  1898);  A.  S.  Cook,  A  Concordance  to  the  English 
Poems  of  Thomas  Gray  (Boston  and  New  York,  1908). 

Gray,  of  course,  is  spoken  of  in  the  chapter  on  'The  Literary  Influence 
of  the  Middle  Ages,'  where  Professor  Ker  calls  '  Gray's  two  translations 
from  the  Icelandic... far  the  finest  result  of  those  antiquarian  studies' 
(p.  225).  The  account  of  '  those  antiquarian  studies '  here  given  must 
elicit  admiration  from  every  reader  for  its  wide  learning,  its  imperturb- 
able sense,  and  its  sympathetic  judgments  in  dealing  with  a  subject 
which  has  too  often  suffered  from  the  distortion  of  special  pleaders. 
Medieval  architecture,  Professor  Ker  insists,  had  more  to  do  with  the 
new  movement  than  medieval  poetry,  which  was  not  always  branded  as 
'Gothick':  witness  Addison's  praise  of  Chevy  Chace  as  opposed  to  the 
'  Gothick '  imitators  of  Cowley.  Even  Chatterton,  though  he  cared  for 
medieval  life  and  manners  and  wrote  about  them,  yet  kept  his  medieval 
tastes  distinct  from  his  poetry,  in  which  his  real  master  was  Spenser. 
Professor  Ker  will  not  confuse  medievalism  with  romanticism.  The 
modest  medievalism  of  Percy's  Reliques,  he  says,  has  affected  subsequent 
poetry  more  than  Ossian  or  Walpole.  But  medieval  studies  did  not 
disturb  Johnson's  rule  as  Ossian  did.  In  his  account  of  the  Ossianic 
forgeries,  Professor  Ker,  as  scholar,  points  out  that  Macpherson  was  a 
'  historical  and  antiquarian  fraud '  (p.  227),  but,  as  critic,  he  soundly 
maintains  that  Goethe  and  Napoleon  were  not  enthusiastic  about  the 
philological  but  the  poetical  qualities  of  the  windy  epics.  The  real 
bearings  of  this  whole  matter  are  not  likely  soon  to  be  better  stated. 

Professor  Nettleton's  '  Drama  and  the  Stage,'  the  most  considerable 
treatment  of  the  eighteenth  century  English  drama  as  yet  published, 
is  in  anticipation  of  the  same  author's  recently  announced  English 
Drama  of  the  Restoration  and  Eighteenth  Century.  A  somewhat 
crowded  text,  accompanied  by  an  excellent  bibliography,  outlines  every 

M.  L.  R.  ix.  17 


258  Reviews 

dramatic  tendency  of  the  age,  sentimental  comedy,  classical  tragedy, 
pantomime,  ballad  opera,  domestic  tragedy ;  defines  the  influence  of 
Voltaire;  records  the  stage  activities  of  Fielding  and  their  close  at 
the  Licensing  Act ;  discusses  the  career  of  Garrick ;  and  says  what 
can  be  said  about  the  reaction  against  sentimental  comedy  without 
encroaching  upon  the  accounts  of  Goldsmith  and  Sheridan.  Professor 
Nettleton's  very  wide  researches  make  even  minute  corrections  difficult, 
but  it  may  be  pointed  out  that  Tlie  Fatal  Extravagance,  conjecturally 
assigned  by  him  to  Aaron  Hill  (p.  434),  has  been  since  shown  to  be 
Hill's  without  any  doubt  (Dorothy  Brewster,  A  aron  Hill,  New  York, 
1913,  pp.  97-8). 

Of  the  two  chapters  on  ' Historians,'  ' Hume  and  Modern  Historians  ' 
has  been  given  to  Mr  William  Hunt,  and  'Gibbon,'  with  the  other  writers 
on  ancient  history,  to  Sir  A.  W.  Ward.  These  are  solid  and  well- 
balanced  treatments,  which  allow  Hume  full  praise  for  his  art,  Robertson 
for  his  considerable  measure  of  historic  sense,  and  Gibbon  for  his  con- 
summate union  of  the  qualities  needed  to  make  him  the  first  of  English 
historians,  without,  at  the  same  time,  any  forgetfulness  of  the  defects 
which  the  age  imposed.  The  less  important  historical  writers  are 
judiciously  reviewed. 

The  literature  of  theology  has  been  divided  between  Archdeacon 
Hutton,  who  writes  on  the  '  Divines,'  and  Mr  Shaw,  to  whom  fell  '  The 
Literature  of  Dissent  (1660 — 1760).'  The  first  reverts  more  than  once 
to  '  the  benumbing  influence  of  Tillotson '  (p.  353),  who  is  blamed  for 
the  dulness  of  his  followers,  a  formidable  censure.  On  the  whole,  the 
showing  is  not  a  rich  one  for  the  orthodox  Church,  if  one  excepts  the 
exquisite  Sacra  Privata  and  the  weighty  work  of  Bishop  Butler.  The 
Methodists  are  more  important,  even  though  they  must  be  held  re- 
sponsible for  James  Hervey,  and  Whitefield  and  the  Wesleys  are  per- 
sonages of  enduring  interest.  Mr  Shaw's  is  a  worthy  account  of  a 
notable  movement  which  put  forth  literature  of  incredible  dulness. 
Dissent,  he  shows,  was  tolerant  only  when  laymen  had  taught  tolerance. 
Thereafter,  the  chief  tendency  of  the  three  dissenting  bodies  was  towards 
unitarianism.  In  his  appendix,  a  'List  of  Nonconformist  Academies 
(1680 — 1770),'  Mr  Shaw  renders  a  real  service. 

Wilkes,  Churchill,  Junius  are  the  three  figures  who  fill  the  chapter 
by  Mr  Previte-Orton  on  'Political  Literature  (1755 — 1775).'  Interesting 
years  and  interesting  men,  they  are  treated  in  a  clear  and  well-informed 
manner  which  shows  Wilkes  for  the  demagogue,  and  Churchill  for  the 
bludgeon,  which  he  was.  Mr  Previte-Orton  gives  the  arguments  for 
Sir  Philip  Francis'  authorship  of  the  Junius  letters,  but  he  does  not 
finally  pronounce  upon  the  matter.  In  reading  his  chapter  one  gets  the 
sense  of  an  astonishing  violence  of  feeling  in  the  political  air  and  misses 
the  impassioned  eloquence  of  Burke. 

As  historian,  Hume  was  praised  chiefly  for  his  art :  as  thinker,  he  is 
admitted  by  Professor  Sorley  in  the  chapter  '  Philosophers '  '  to  rank  as 
the  greatest  of  English  philosophers'  (p.  324).  In  his  exposition  and 
criticism  of  Hume's  thought  Professor  Sorley  is  admirable.  For  Adam 


Reviews  259 

Smith  he  performs  the  same  functions  with  the  same  success.  Then  he 
proceeds  to  outline  the  doctrines  of  the  men  who  more  or  less  needlessly 
followed  Hume,  Hartley,  Tucker,  Richard  Price,  Priestley,  and  the  very 
popular  Paley,  closing  with  the  powerful  reply  to  Hume  of  Reid  and 
the  commonsense  school  which  really  makes  an  advance  from  the  hope- 
less end  to  which  Hume  seemed  to  have  brought  speculation. 

In  spite  of  careful  proof  reading,  some  errors  have  escaped  correction : 
p.  41,  1.  11,  for  North  Briton  read  Briton  ;  p.  309,  1.  18,  for  John  read 
Joseph ;  p.  320,  note,  for  Edinburgh  Review,  July  1808,  read  Knight's 
Quarterly  Magazine,  November  1824;  p.  344,  1.  22,  for  (1771)  read 
(1772);  p.  387,  1.  22,  for  Micaijah  read  Michaijah ;  p.  411,  1.  10,  for 
W.  H.  read  W.  L. ;  p.  412,  1.  4  from  bottom,  for  W.  read  W.  L. ;  p.  421, 
1. 17  from  bottom,  for  Vienna  (?)  read  Brieg;  p.  436, 1. 13  from  bottom,/or 
Scanderberg  read  Scanderbeg;  p.  522,  L  19  from  bottom,  for  Roughead 
read  Ruffhead ;  p.  525,  top,  for  X  read  XVII.  In  the  indSx,  Richard 
Cumberland  (1631 — 1718)  the  bishop  is  confused  with  Richard  Cumber- 
land (1732—1811)  the  dramatist. 

CARL  VAN  DOREN. 

NEW  YORK. 


Cynthia  s  Revels,  or,  The  Fountain  of  Self -Love  by  Ben  Jonson.  Edited 
by  ALEXANDER  CORBIN  JUDSON.  (Yale  Studies  in  English,  XLV.) 
New  York  :  Henry  Holt  and  Co.,  1912.  8vo.  Ixxviii  +  268  pp. 

The  present  instalment  of  the  Yale  edition  of  Jonson's  plays  is 
a  commendably  careful,  sane  and  accurate  piece  of  work.  The  text 
is  a  very  faithful  reprint  of  that  in  the  1616  folio  of  the  author's  works 
and  an  attempt  has  been  •  made  to  collect  all  the  readings  in  which 
different  copies  of  the  original  vary.  In  some  cases  three  distinct 
stages  of  correction  can  be  traced  in  the  various  formes.  Variation 
between  different  copies  of  the  quarto  of  1601  seerns  also  to  be  esta- 
blished. The  evidence  thus  collected  is  of  considerable  interest,  for 
one  would  have  thought  that  Jonson  of  all  people  would  have  insisted 
on  the  printers  awaiting  his  final  corrections  before  beginning  press 
work.  Yet  it  seems  probable  that  of  certain  sheets  at  least  half  the 
copies  printed  were  more  or  less  incorrect. 

In  the  editorial  apparatus  the  student  will  find  most  things  that  he 
needs  to  know,  as  well  as  some  that  he  does  not.  The  notes  would 
have  benefited,  like  those  in  most  other  volumes  of  this  series,  by 
greater  severity  of  pruning.  As  it  is,  they  rather  create  the  impression 
that  the  editor  felt  bound  to  comment  on  every  phrase  of  Jonson's  that 
caught  his  attention,  and  what  he  found  to  say  is  not  always  very  much 
to  the  point.  It  seems  hardly  wrorth  while  explaining  that  beaver  hats 
were  still  highly  esteemed  in  the  time  of  Pepys,  or  that  the  chewing  of 
cloves  was  common  even  in  Jonson's  day — -is  it  a  habit  now  ?  It  was 
hardly  worth  recording  a  conjecture  which  in  v,  iv,  250  '  takes  ye  to  be 

17—2 


260  Reviews 

the  English  the'  for  it  is  a  vulgar  error  to  suppose  that  ye  can  ever 
stand  for  the.  Possibly  it  is  necessary  to  inform  some  readers  that 
Phoebe  is  Diana,  Priapus  the  '  god  of  procreation,'  the  Duke  of  Ferrara 
an  important  noble  of  Italy,  or  that  by  'the  Emperor'  seventeenth- 
century  writers  meant  '  the  Emperor  of  Germany '  (which  is  incorrect). 
A  venerable  pedantry  reappears  when  in  the  notes  the  name  EVTHVS 
becomes  the  abortion  '  Evthvs.'  It  was  open  to  Jonson  to  leave  the 
number  ambiguous  when  he  wrote  '  philosophers  stone ' :  Dr  Judson 
decides  it  wrongly  when  he  prints  '  Philosopher's  Stone,'  it  is  the  lapis 
philosophorum.  The  note  on  the  epilogue  contains  a  portentously 
solemn  rebuke  of  Jonson's  overweening  conceit.  It  was  insolent  and 
outrageous  but  it  was  not  nai've,  and  Jonson  was  fully  aware  of  the 
humour  of  it.  His  'good  resolution'  if  it  ever  existed  was  expressly 
made  to  be  broken.  As  regards  the  '  piece  of  perspective '  (Ind.  154) 
there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt  that  painted  scenery  is  meant. 
Critics,  says  the  editor,  '  incline  to  the  view  that  there  was  none  used 
at  this  time  on  the  public  stage,'  and  he  cites  Cambridge  Hist  of  Eng. 
Lit.  VI,  303.  This  reference  is  wrong;  he  is  probably  thinking  of 
Mr  Child's  remark :  *  Painted  scenery  on  the  public  stage  there  was 
none '  (ibid,  vi,  269),  though  this  is  qualified  by  the  admission  that 
'  there  can  be  little  question  that  painted  scenery  was  not  unknown ' 
(ibid,  vi,  271)  in  court  and  university  performances.  But  Henslowe 
had  the  City  of  Rome  among  his  properties  at  the  Rose  in  1598,  and 
this  can  hardly  have  been  anything  else  than  a  painted  cloth. 

The  introduction,  if  somewhat  discursive,  is  both  useful  and  read- 
able. It  was  perhaps  hardly  worth  while  attempting  to  bring  out  the 
resemblance  between  Earle's  and  Jonson's  gallants  by  means  of  a  parallel 
analysis,  for  their  features  are  somewhat  commonplace.  It  is  rather 
difficult  to  know  what  weight  to  attach  to  the  similarities  between 
Jonson's  play  and  the  academic  Timon :  the  parallel  extracts  are  very 
far  from  convincing.  But  the  sections  in  which  the  editor  discusses 
the  allegory  of  the  play  and  the  identification  of  the  characters  are 
excellent.  Of  particular  interest  are  the  arguments  advanced  in 
support  of  Ward's  suggestion  that  Acteon  is  Essex.  But  here  there 
is  an  error.  The  date  1600,  given  to  the  play  in  the  folio,  implies  that 
it  was  acted  before  1  Jan.  1601,  not  25  March  as  Dr  Judson  thinks 
(p.  xxviii).  For  Jonsoii's  practice  was  to  begin  the  year  as  we  do  (see 
Thorndike,  Influence  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  on  Shakspere,  p.  17). 
Cynthia  s  Revels  had,  therefore  been  not  only  written  but  acted  before 
Essex's  death.  Since,  however,  the  editor  anyhow  regards  the  Acteon 
passages  as  insertions  this  does  not  affect  his  argument.  It  looks 
rather  as  though  the  allusions  had  been  added  for  a  court  performance, 
but  none  by  the  Chapel  Children  is  known  between  22  Feb.  1601,  when 
Essex  was  still  alive,  and  6  Jan.  1602,  when  we  may  presume  that  the 
quarto  (entered  23  May  1601)  had  already  appeared.  And  here  in 
passing  it  may  be  regretted  that  the  editor  should  merely  have  referred 
incidentally  to  the  entry  in  the  Stationers'  Register,  for  though  the 
identification  of  '  Narcissus  the  fountaine  of  self  love '  with  '  The 


Reviews  261 

Fountaine  of  Selfe-Loue,  or  Cynthias  Reuells  '  is  probable,  it  cannot 
be  regarded  as  beyond  question. 

A  more  careful  revision  of  proofs  might  have  obviated  a  certain 
number  of  errors  in  Dr  Judson's  pages.  Furness  surely  did  not  print 
his  text  of  Othello  from  the  folio  of  1632  (p.  xxi)  ?  It  was  the  division 
of  scenes,  not  acts,  that  Gifford  altered  (p.  xix).  It  is  in  Act  in  not 
Act  n  that  Hedon  and  Anaides  plot  against  Crites  (p.  1).  It  was  for 
a  lean  dearth,  not  a  lean  death,  that  Sordido  prayed  (p.  Ixviii).  In 
discussing  Satiromastix  (p.  Ivi)  it  might  perhaps  have  been  worth 
observing  that  the  blanketting  which  Horace  gets  is  probably  that 
with  which  Anaides  threatens  Crites  in  in,  ii,  8. 

I  have  already  referred  to  Dr  Judson's  work  upon  the  different 
states  of  the  various  sheets  in  point  of  correctness.  By  dint  of  great 
labour  he  has  attained  really  valuable  results,  but  his  work  is  that  of 
a  man  wholly  unversed  in  such  investigations.  It  is  all  the  more  to 
his  credit  that  he  has  found  his  way  through  the  maze  of  typographical 
technicalities.  But  I  pity  the  literary  student  who  tries  to  follow  his 
account  of  them.  For  one  thing  he  is  lamentably  careless  in  expression. 
He  knows  the  difference  between  a  copy  and  an  edition,  and  draws 
attention  to  it,  yet  he  writes  'she  based  her  text  on  one  edition,  and 
printed,  as  foot-notes,  the  variants  from  two  other  copies  of  the  same 
edition '  (p.  xiii).  He  means  '  one  copy  of  a  certain  edition.'  Again  he 
writes  '  the  folio  copy  in  the  Yale  University  Library '  when  he  means 
the  '  copy  of  the  folio.'  But  he  is  also  entirely  ignorant  of  the  technical 
vocabulary  he  requires.  The  '  whole  sheet '  is  not,  as  he  says,  *  the  two 
pages  printed  at  the  same  time  from  a  single  forme.'  '  Each  sheet 
(technically  speaking)  of  the  folio  consists  of  three  sheets  of  four  pages 
each '  (p.  xiv)  is  nonsense.  So  are  several  other  statements  he  makes. 
He  struggles  valiantly  to  make  his  meaning  clear  by  inserting  paren- 
theses such  as  :  '  using  "  sheet "  in  the  sense  of  one  side  of  a  signature ' 
(p.  xvi),  but  in  fact  only  wraps  it  in  a  denser  fog.  His  remark, 
'  Apparently  the  binding  was  postponed  till  a  large  part  of  the  printing, 
perhaps  all  of  it,  was  done '  (p.  xiv),  shows  that  he  has  not  realized  that 
normally  all  the  copies  of  a  given  sheet  would  be  printed  on  one  side 
before  the  printing  of  the  opposite  side  was  begun.  All  this  confusion 
does  not  in  the  least  impair  the  value  of  the  tables  he  gives  on  pp.  xv 
and  153,  and  those  already  familiar  with  the  subject  will  have  no 
difficulty  in  seeing  what  he  is  driving  at ;  but  it  will  save  editors  and 
their  readers  a  world  of  trouble  if  they  will  mark  and  remember  the 
following  elementary  facts.  A  'page'  is  what  one  naturally  takes  it 
to  be.  Two  pages  facing  one  another  form  an  '  opening.'  Two  pages 
back  to  back  constitute  a  '  leaf.'  The  number  of  leaves  that  are  sewn 
together  constitute  a  'gathering'  (also  sometimes  called  a  'quire'  or, 
less  properly,  a  '  signature ').  The  whole  piece  of  unfolded  paper  that 
goes  into  the  printing  press  at  once  is  a  '  sheet.'  One  side  of  a  sheet, 
which  is  all  that  gets  printed  at  one  pull,  is  called  a  '  forme.'  In  a  folio 
a  sheet  makes  two  leaves,  in  a  quarto  four,  in  an  octavo  eight.  In  a 
folio  a  forme  contains  two  pages,  in  a  quarto  four,  in  an  octavo  eight. 


262  Reviews 

The  forme  containing  the  earliest  page  is  called  the  outer,  the  other 
the  inner,  forme.  A  gathering  consists  in  a  folio  most  usually  of  three 
sheets,  in  a  quarto  or  octavo  normally  of  one.  The  difficulties  that 
may  arise  from  a  misuse  of  these  terms  will  be  understood  when  it  is 
mentioned  that  Dr  Judson  uses  '  sheet '  to  mean  either  sheet,  forme,  or 
gathering,  and  that  he  also  calls  a  sheet  a  '  signature.'  A  word  is 
wanted  to  describe  the  double  sheet,  i.e.  the  two  leaves  that  hang 
together  when  a  cut  book  is  taken  to  pieces.  This  is  a  sheet  if  the 
book  is  a  folio,  but  not  if  it  is  any  other  size.  Perhaps  the  old  term 
'  arcus '  might  be  revived. 

I  should  like  to  take  this  opportunity  of  directing  the  attention  of 
all  readers  and  especially  of  all  editors  of  Elizabethan  works  to  an 
admirable  article  by  Dr  R.  B.  McKerrow  which  gives  in  detail  most 
of  the  bibliographical  information  which  literary  students  require  and 
generally  do  not  possess.  It  will  be  found  in  vol.  XII  of  the  Transactions 
of  the  Bibliographical  Society. 

W.  W.  GREG. 

LONDON. 


The  Poetical  Works  of  William  Drummond  of  Hawthornden.  With 
1 A  Cypresse  Grove!  Edited  by  L.  E.  KASTNER.  Manchester : 
University  Press.  1913.  8vo.  2  vols.  cxx  +  254,  xviii  +  434  pp. 

Readers  of  the  Modern  Language  Review  have  been  long  acquainted 
with  Professor  Kastner's  labours  in  connexion  with  Drummond.  In  an 
article  published  in  the  Review  in  October  1907  (vol.  ill,  p.  1)  he  showed 
that  Drummond  not  only  owed  much  to  Italian  poets,  as  had  been 
pointed  out  by  Mr  W.  C.  Ward,  but  had  adapted  to  his  uses  many 
poems  of  Desportes  :  and  in  a  later  article  (vol.  IV,  p.  329)  he  showed  that 
Drummond  was  under  further  obligations  to  other  poets  of  the  Pleiade, 
especially  Ronsard  and  Pontus  de  Tyard.  These  preliminary  studies 
have  led  to  a  complete  edition  of  Drummond's  Poems. 

Professor  Kastner's  Preface  shows  clearly  what  he  set  himself  to  do, 
and,  we  may  add,  what  he  has  done.  He  has  given  a  trustworthy  text 
according  to  the  original  editions  of  the  several  works,  accompanied  by 
a  complete  record  of  variants,  and  in  the  course  of  this  part  of  his  task 
he  has  made  an  interesting  bibliographical  discovery  with  regard  to 
Phillips'  edition  of  1656.  In  the  text  he  has  kept  the  old  punctuation, 
on  the  ground  that  it  represents  Drummond's  own  preference  for  a 
punctuation  '  based  rather  on  rhythmical  than  on  logical  considerations.' 
Secondly  he  has  given  the  world  his  remarkable  discoveries  of 
Drummond's  indebtedness  to  previous  poets,  discoveries  which  cannot 
but  seriously  affect  Drummond's  reputation.  Thirdly  he  has  compiled 
a  complete  critical  bibliography  of  the  early  editions  of  Drummond's 
works  in  verse.  Fourthly  he  has  examined  the  Hawthornden  manu- 
scripts, used  them  to  correct  the  text  of  the  posthumous  poems,  and 
from  them  brought  to  light  poems  of  Drummond's  never  published 


Reviews  263 

before.  Lastly  he  has  discussed  the  authenticity  of  supposed  portraits 
of  the  poet.  Even  this  enumeration  does  not  cover  the  Notes  of  an 
expository  kind  which  complete  the  work. 

In  his  Introduction  Professor  Kastner  touches  on  various  interesting 
points,  such  as  the  exotic  character  of  Scottish  poetry  in  Drummond's 
day,  the  general  neglect  of  Spanish  poetry  by  the  Elizabethans,  the 
question  whether  Phillips  in  his  appreciation  of  Drummond  was  echoing 
the  sentiments  of  his  uncle  John  Milton.  He  shows  that  Drummond 
imitated  or  translated  among  French  poets  chiefly  Ronsard,  Desportes, 
Tyard,  Passerat,  Du  Bartas ;  among  Italians,  Tasso,  Guarini,  Marino  ; 
among  Spaniards,  Boscan  and  Garcilaso.  Further  that  he  was  steeped 
in  Philip  Sidney's  poetry,  occasionally  quoted  Shakespeare,  and 
was  acquainted  with  the  Greek  Anthology  and  with  Latin  poets  of  the 
Renaissance.  As  to  Drummond's  'conveyances'  from  these  authors, 
Professor  Kastner  shows  that  '  imitation '  was  enjoined  by  the  Pleiade, 
but  with  the  qualification  that  the  imitating  poet  should  convert  what 
he  took  into  flesh  and  blood.  Much  of  Drummond's  work  is  in  accord- 
ance with  the  precept :  but  at  least  a  third,  according  to  his  editor,  is 
little  more  than  skilful  translation,  unacknowledged,  and  it  can  hardly 
be  doubted  that  even  the  poems  whose  sources  have  not  yet  been  found 
are  in  general  of  the  same  character  as  the  rest.  The  general  conclusion 
is  thus  stated  :  '  In  one  half  roughly  of  his  verse  he  may  justly  lay  claim 
to  a  high  rank  as  a  poet  of  the  school  of  imitation  :  he  adapted,  but  his 
adaptations  are  impregnated  with  a  charm  essentially  his  own,  and 
clothed  in  a  form  well-nigh  impeccable.  Nevertheless  even  as  an 
imitative  poet,  he  cannot  pretend  to  the  highest  rank :  for  that,  his 
range  is  too  limited,  confined  as  it  is  to  some  hundred  and  thirty 
sonnets,  about  the  same  number  of  madrigals  and  epigrams,  arid  less 
than  a  score  of  longer  pieces.  In  his  remaining  poetic  achievement 
Drummond  is  an  imitator  pure  and  simple.' 

And  now  for  a  few  points  of  detail : 

Vol.  I,  xvii,  1.  4  from  bottom,  '  no  uncommon.'    Query, '  no  common  '  ? 

xxvi,  1.  6.  'About  thirty  years  later  [than  1562  apparently]  Sir 
Philip  Sidney  in  the  added  sonnets... in  the  third  edition  of  Arcadia 
1598,  included  two  lyrics.'  This  might  be  misleading  to  a  reader  who 
did  not  remember  that  Sidney  died  in  1586. 

xxxiv,  1.  8  from  bottom.  'His  [Drummond's]  adherence,  etc 

helps  to  understand  why  he  did  not  write  any  more  poetry  after  1623.' 
As  Professor  Kastner  prints  a  good  deal  of  poetry  written  by  Drummond 
after  1623,  I  suppose  the  date  must  be  wrongly  given. 

xxxix,  1.  10.  The  inconvenience  of  a  rigid  adherence  to  old 
punctuation  is  seen  here,  where  we  have 

Bank,  where  that  arras  did  you  late  adorn, 
How  look  ye  elm  all  withered  and  forlorn  ? 

for  '  Bank,  where  [is]  that  arras  [that]  did  you  late  adorn  ? '  etc. 

Such  difficulties  are  not  common,  and  a  general  adherence  to 
Drummond'3  punctuation  was,  I  think,  the  right  course  for  an  editor. 


264  Reviews 

But  the  punctuation  has  peculiarities  which  needed  to  be  pointed  out. 
The  note  of  interrogation  for  instance  serves  sometimes  for  a  note  of 
exclamation  (e.g.  I,  p.  40  Sonnet  XLIV,  p.  125  Madrigal  LXIII)  :  it  is  fre- 
quently appended  to  indirect  questions  (p.  46  Mad.  IX,  p.  68  top)  or  to 
conditional  clauses  (p.  54  Son.  vi,  p.  66  1.  61,  p.  71  11.  205-212,  etc.) :  it 
is  often  repeated  in  a  single  clause  (p.  56  top,  p.  93  11.  22-24,  p.  109 
Mad.  xxiv,  p.  129,  etc.).  It  is  sometimes  inserted  in  the  apodosis  of  a 
conditional  sentence,  e.g.  p.  34  Son.  xxxvu,  1.  7. 

Ixxxiii,  1.  3  from  bottom,  '  this  time  [1656]  the  editor  was  not 
Mr  Hall.'  The  probable  explanation  is  that  John  Hall  (the  famous 
poet  of  St  John's  College,  Cambridge  and  Gray's  Inn)  died  on  August 
1st  of  that  year. 

civ. 

Fame... 

Hovers  about  his  Monument,  and  brings 

A  deathlesse  trophy  to  his  memory; 

Who,  for  such  honour,  would  not  wish  to  dye? 

Edward  Phillips  in  these  lines  is  clearly  thinking  of  the  conclusion  of 
his  uncle's  elegy  on  Shakespeare : 

And  so  sepulchred  in  such  pomp  dost  lie 
That  kings  for  such  a  tomb  would  wish  to  die. 

Professor  Kastner  has  performed  the  tasks  which  chiefly  interested 
him  with  so  much  thoroughness  and  has  brought  to  light  so  much  that 
is  new  and  important  that  one  need  not  be  accused  of  finding  serious 
fault  with  him  if  one  says  that  his  notes  are  rather  less  satisfying  than 
his  excursuses.  Apart  from  their  detailed  references  to  Drummond's 
sources  they  seem  to  have  been  compiled  in  a  rather  perfunctory 
manner,  and  while  not  giving  us  quite  all  we  want,  to  contain  a  good 
deal  of  information  which  is  hardly  required  in  a  work  of  such  pre- 
tensions. A  great  many  notes  are  devoted  to  explaining  the  most 
obvious  classical  allusions  such  as  Tyrian  purple,  Danaes  Lap,  Psyches 
Louer,  Cyclades,  noting  Delos,  Zeuxis,  the  Idalian  Queene,  the  Thracian 
Harper,  Citherea,  Hybla,  Enna,  Phlegethon,  the  Saturnian  World, 
Proteus,  etc.  Others  are  given  to  the  most  ordinary  idioms  of  Eliza- 
bethan English,  e.g.  (II,  p.  411)  'Nor  blame  mee  not:  nor  followed  by 
another  negative  is  now  obsolete.'  Other  notes  again  explain  rimes 
which  in  Modern  English  would  be  false  rimes.  While  this  is  valuable, 
perhaps  it  would  have  been  better  to  have  had  a  short  excursus  on 
Drummond's  phonology,  instead  of  getting  the  information  in  scattered 
notes. 

Professor  Kastner  is  highly  qualified  for  this  phonological  work,  and 
Drummond's  rimes  present  a  number  of  interesting  problems,  not  dealt 
with.  Thus  we  have  thoughts  :  draughts — laughter  :  daughter — see  : 
die — thee  :  flie — mead  :  head,  feed — China  :  been  a — eyne,  eine  :  brine, 
divine,  seene,  greene — eyes  :  twise — waste  :  cast,  wast — abisme  : 
time — waue  :  deceaue — waues  :  lawes — would  :  old — light  :  weight — 


Reviews  265 

moon  :  broone  (brown) — anadeame  :  inflame,  beame — anadem,  diadem  : 
gem,  stem — '  tides '  appears  in  the  spelling  '  teeds.1 

How  did  Drummond  pronounce  '  Townes  raz'd  and  rais'd '  (I,  77)  ? 
George  Herbert  has  the  same  collocation  in  his  poem  The  Temper 
('  It  cannot  be  ').  One  may  notice  the  fall  of  the  accent  in  '  melancholic  ' 
'  melancholic,'  '  carriere,'  '  infamous,'  '  climacteric,'  '  Peru,'  '  governe  ' 
(I,  pp.  131,  182),  'menace/  'envyous,'  ' Discard.'  'Thebes'  in  the 
genitive  is  twice  dissyllabic, '  Creature  '  is  trisyllabic.  Is  the  following 
note  correct  (I,  192)  ? '  sterue:  a  Scots  form  of  starve  still  found  to-day 
in  the  form  stirve  in  the  Shetland  Isles.  By  printing  "  starve,"  modern 
editors  ruin  the  rime  with  "  serve." '  Surely  in  Elizabethan  English 
'  serve '  was  pronounced  '  sarve,'  and  the  form  '  sterve '  would  have  the 
same  sound. 

To  turn  again  to  points  of  detail. 

Vol.  I,  p.  5,  Son.  v,  1.  4,  'this  All.'  This  expression  for  j this  Uni- 
verse '  is  used  by  Drummond  at  least  fifteen  times,  and  '  this  Round ' 
almost  as  frequently. 

p.  7,  Son.  ix, 

0  come,  but  with  that  Face 
To  inward  light  which  thou  art  wont  to  show. 

Perhaps  Milton  had  this  in  mind  when  he  wrote  Sams.  Ag.  162. 

p.  9,  Song  (1).  Professor  Kastner  has  not  remarked  that  in  this 
Song  and  in  Sonnet  xiv,  p.  20,  Drummond  seems  to  be  experimenting 
in  the  alternation  of  masculine  and  feminine  rimes. 

p.  10,  bottom.     '  Chasbow '  (a  poppy)  needed  a  note. 

p.  26,  Son.  xxv.  Professor  Kastner  sees  in  this  Sonnet  a  suggestion 
for  Milton's  Sonnet  to  the  Nightingale.  Perhaps  another  expression 
of  Milton's  (Comus,  1.  560)  '  I  was  all  ear '  was  suggested  by  this  same 
sonnet  of  Drtimmond's : 

Me  thought... a  noyce 
Of  Quiristers...did  wound  mine  Eare, 
No  soule,  that  then  became  all  Eare  to  heare. 

('  No '  is  of  course  corrective,  as  very  frequently  used  by  Drummond.) 

Perhaps  Milton's  '  Sad  Electra's  poet '  (Sonnet  vm)  was  similarly 
suggested  by  Drummond's  'sad  Electra's  Sisters'  (Moeliades  140, 1,  p.  79). 

p.  21,  Son.  xvi,  1.  6.  'Amphions  of  the  Trees'  recalls  Keats' 
<  Dryad  of  the  trees.' 

p.  27,  Son.  xxvii,  1.  3,  '  into '  = '  in/  as  II,  248,  1.  20. 

p.  41,  Son.  XLVI,  1.  5,  the  epithet  'musket'  according  to  the  N.E.D. 
=  '  musk-cat.'  On  p.  150,  1.  305  we  have  the  form  'musked'  with  a 
different  history. 

p.  44,  Son.  L,  1.  8.  ''  His  (the  Sun's)  golden  Coach.'  Cp.  114,  bottom, 
'her  (the  Moon's)  Coach,'  II,  164  'the  dayes  bright  Coach-man'  and 
again  263,  1.  1.  Perhaps  there  is  some  recollection  of  Sylvester  here. 
The  latter  calls  the  sun  a  postillion  who  never  comes  to  the  end  of  his 
journey,  and  invokes  the  Holy  Spirit  to  be  his  coachman  (Courthope 
Hist,  of  Poetry,  in,  90). 


266  Reviews 

p.  163.  '  Trophonius:  a  legendary  hero  of  architecture.'  Query  'of 
antiquity '  ?  or  '  of  Orchomenus '  ? 

p.  166.     '  "  Best  companied  when  most  I  am  alone  "  suggests 

Seem  most  alone  in  greatest  company, 

in  Sonnet  xxvn  of  Astrophel  and  Stella.7  Sidney  gives  the  converse  of 
Drummond's  thought,  which  is  perhaps  directly  due  to  Scipio's  saying, 
as  reported  by  Cato.  '  nunquam  se...esse... minus  solum,  quam  quum 
solus  esset'  (Cic.  de  Of.  in,  1). 

p.  168.  Is  *  the  first  two  tercets '  of  a  Sonnet  (meaning  the  first  six 
lines)  an  allowable  expression  ? 

p.  179.  A  long  note  on  the  omission  of  'have'  before  a  past 
participle  '  Why  should  I  beene,'  etc.  This  usage  is  found  several 
times  in  Drummond.  Other  examples  of  it  will  be  found  in  this 
Review,  vol.  v,  p.  346. 

p.  202,  '  passed  Pleasures  double  but  new  Woe.'  Mr  Paget  Toynbee 
is  quoted  as  suggesting  that  this  is  a  reminiscence  from  Dante's  Inferno, 

Nessun  inaggior  dolore 
Che  ricordarsi  del  tempo  felice 
Nella  miseria; 

and  the  editor  remarks  that  there  is  very  little  trace  of  the  influence  of 
Dante  in  Drummond.  It  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  that  Drummond 
was  indebted  to  Dante  for  a  sentiment  found  in  Boethius,  de  Consol.  II, 
Pr.  4,  '  infelicissimum  genus  est  infortunii  fuisse  felicem,'  in  Chaucer, 
Troilus,  iii,  1.  1625,  and  in  Greene,  Nashe,  etc. 

p.  205.  '  I  curse  the  Night,  yet  doth  from  Day  rnee  hide.'  Professor 
Kastner  explains  '  doth  '  as  a  Scotticism  for  'do.'  I  should  suggest  that 
'  yet '  has  arisen  from  '  y Y  the  common  contraction  of  '  that.'  If,  as 
Professor  Kastner  says,  '  The  Pandionean  Birds '  in  the  next  line  are 
nightingales,  Drummond  recurs  there  to  the  night,  and  does  not  carry 
on  the  thought  that  he  hides  himself  from  the  day.  On  the  other  hand 
if  Professor  Kastner  is  right  in  the  first  line,  'the  Pandionean  Birds' 
probably  include  swallows. 

p.  229,  '  xvi.'  A  note  might  have  been  given  on  1.  10,  '  Poore  one 
no  Number  is,'  a  medieval  doctrine  which  is  constantly  played  on  by 
the  Elizabethans  (Lyly,  Marlowe,  Shakespeare,  Anton,  etc.).  Owen  has 
an  epigram  '  Unitas  non  facit  numerum.' 

YoLII.  Flowres  of  Sion.  It  is  not,  I  think,  pointed  out  how  many  of 
these  Sonnets  are  variants  of  Sonnets  previously  printed.  Thus  I  will 
be  found  vol.  I,  p.  86 ;  v  and  x,  I,  87 ;  xv  and  Poem  ii,  I,  88 ;  xvm  and 
Poem  iii,  I,  89 ;  xx,  I,  91 ;  xxn,  I,  90. 

p.  18,  11.  31,  32. 

What  late  was  mortall,  thrall'd  to  every  woe, 
That  lackeyes  life,  or  vpon  sence  doth  'grow, 
Immortall  is. 

Professor  Kastner  (p.  335)  takes  '  lackeyes '  as  '  a  spelling  for  the 
dissyllabic  archaic  form  lackes'  used  to  suit  the  exigencies  of  the  metre. 
The  word  is  surely  'lackeys,'  'waits  on  as  a  lackey.'  See  N.E.D. 


Reviews  267 

p.  32. 

Redeame  Time  past, 
And  Liue  each  Day  as  if  it  were  thy  Last. 

This  clearly  suggested  the  lines  in  Ken's  hymn  '  Awake  my  soul,'  as 
given  in  Hymns  Ancient  and  Modern  : 

Redeem  thy  mis-spent  time  that's  past, 
And  live  each  day  as  if  thy  last. 

I  am  not  sure  however  if  these  two  lines  are  by  Ken  or  some  more 
modern  adapter.  In  Palgrave's  Treasury  of  Sacred  Song  the  lines 
corresponding  to  them  in  Ken's  hymn  run  thus: 

Thy  precious  time  mis-spent,  redeem ; 
Each  present  day  thy  last  esteem. 

p.  129,  iv,  9.     'Tramontane'  not  explained.  ^ 

p.  130,  1.  29.  '  Paranymph,'  seems  to  mean  '  royal  favourite  '  rather 
than  '  effeminate  man.' 

p.  170.     'The  Dammaret '  not  explained, 
p.  205. 

Kirke  and  not  church,  church  and  not  kirke,  0  shame  ! 
Your  kappa  turne  in  chi,  or  perishe  all. 

Cp.  the  motto  below  the  '  Emblem '  in  Eikon  Basilike  To  X?  ovoev 
tfoifcrjae  TTJV  iroXiv  ovSe  TO  Kavrvra,  which  perhaps  means  'The  Ch[urch] 
harmed  not  the  state  nor  yet  the  K[ing].'  This,  and  probably  the  pre- 
sent passage  less  directly,  goes  back,  as  Professor  Bensly  informs  me, 
to  Julian,  Misopogon,  357  A  (ed.  Spanheim,  1696).  Cf.  also  the  refer- 
ence 360  D.  Here  the  77-0X^9  is  Antioch,  X  is  explained  as  X/KCTTO?, 
and  K  as  Kwvcnavrios. 

p.  245,  bottom  :  '  On  the  Isle  of  Rhe' : 

Charles,  would  yee  quaile  your  foes,  haue  better  lucke; 
Send  forth  some  Drakes',  and  keep  at  home  the  Ducke. 

Professor  Kastner  writes :  '  To  understand  properly  the  pun  in  the 
second  line  it  is  necessary  to  remember  that  a  "  drake  "  was  a  species 
of  cannon,  and  that  "  duck  "  is  the  Scottish  pronunciation  of  "  duke." ' 

It  would  seem  more  natural  to  contrast  Buckingham  with  Sir 
Francis  Drake  than  with  a  cannon.  I  am  not  sure,  however,  that  the 
editor's  explanation  is  not  right.  One  of  the  disgraces  sustained  in 
the  expedition  was  the  capture  of  four  English  '  drakes '  by  the  French. 
The  form  *  duck '  for  '  Duke '  (not  confined  to  Scotland)  is  illustrated 
in  Notes  and  Queries  of  29  November  1913,  where  it  is  stated  that  in 
connexion  with  this  same  Duke  of  Buckingham  the  register  of  Ports- 
mouth Church  has  the  record  '  my  lord  duckes  bowels  wear  burried 
the  24th.  Augfc.  1628.' 

p.  249.  To  the  Memorie  of  his...beloaed  Master,  M.F.R.  The  note 
tells  us  that  '  John  Ray  was  Professor  of  Humanity  in  the  University 
of  Edinburgh  while  Drummond  was  a  student  there.'  It  does  not 
explain  however  how  John  Ray  comes  to  be  designated  as  '  M.  F.  R/ 


268  Reviews    . 

p.  258, 1.  41, '  coronet  anademe,'  one  word  was  no  doubt  to  be  deleted. 
p.  268,  bottom : 

Thy  perfyt  praises  if  the  vorld  void  writ 
Must  haue  againe  thy  selff  for  to  end  it. 

Should  not  the  last  words  be  '  endit '  (=  endite)  ?  Cp.  the  end  of  Mad. 
LXXVII  (I,  p.  133). 

p.  289.     Vindiciae  against  the  Commons  for  B.  C.     Can  '  B.  C.'  stand 
for  '  Bishop  of  Canterbury,'  sc.  Laud  ?     If  so,  Drummond  did  not  write 
the  lines  on  the  Bishops,  p.  293. 
11.  13,  14. 

Who  deeme  men  like  to  him  to  be  great  evills, 
May  God  to  preach  to  them  raise  vp  some  else. 

I  cannot  think  that  '  else '  is,  as  suggested,  a  mistake  for  '  esle '  (live 
coal)  which  would  not  rime.  The  obvious  rime  to  '  euills '  is  '  deuills,' 
and  for  this  '  else '  is,  I  think,  a  humorous  Trapa  TrpoaBo/cLav. 

p.  295,  1.  57,  '  foster.'     Query  '  softer '  ? 

p.  296.  These  severe  warnings  '  For  the  Kinge '  seem  to  me  far 
more  appropriate  to  James  than  Charles,  and,  if  so,  are  a  remarkable 
revelation  of  the  opinion  held  of  his  behaviour.  The  reference  (p.  297, 
bottom)  to  '  figges  of  Spaine '  seems  also  to  belong  to  the  early  part  of 
the  century.  The  love  of  hunting  (11.  71,  72)  was  rather  James's  than 
his  son's.  Drummond  seems  to  have  held  James  in  higher  respect 
than  he  did  Charles,  and  can  hardly  have  written  the  lines. 

pp.  300-318.  These  hymns  are  all  translations  from  very  well-known 
Latin  hymns,  though  we  are  not  told  so  in  the  note.  Thus  i  is  '  Quern 
terra,  pontus,  aethera'  (H.  A.  Daniel,  Thesaurus  Hymnologicus,  I,  172); 
ii,  'Te  lucis  ante  terminum'  (i,  52) ;  iii,  'Stabat  mater  dolorosa'  (n,  131)  ; 
iv,  '  Christe  redemptor  gentium '  (i,  78) ;  v,  '  Salvete  flores  martyrum  ' 
(i,  124);  vi,  'Caelestis  urbs  Jerusalem'  (i,  239);  vii,  'lesu  corona  vir- 
ginum  '  (i,  112) ;  viii,  '  Creator  alme  siderum  '  (i,  74) ;  ix,  '  Lucis  creator 
optime '  (i,  57) ;  x,  '  Immense  coeli  conditor '  (i,  58) ;  xi,  '  Telluris  ingens 
conditor '  (i,  59) ;  xii,  'Coeli  Deus  sanctissime '  (i,  60);  xiii, ' Magne  Deus 
potentiae'  (i,  61);  xiv,  'Plasmator  hominis  Deus'  (i,  61);  xv,  'O  lux 
beata  trinitas '  (i,  36) ;  xvi,  '  Audi  benigne  conditor '  (i,  178) ;  xvii,  '  lesu 
nostra  redemptio '  (I,  63) ;  xviii,  '  Veni  Creator  spiritus  '  (i,  213) ;  xix, 
'  Quicumque  Christum  quaeritis'  (i,  135);  xx,  "Tibi  Christe  splendor 
patris'  (i,  220). 

I  have  perhaps  devoted  too  much  space  to  very  small  points.  Seldom 
has  it  been  given  to  an  editor  to  contribute  so  much  that  is  new  to  the 
right  appreciation  of  an  author  as  Professor  Kastner  has  contributed  in 
these  volumes.  Whether  Drummond's  shade  has  given  him  its  unmixed 
blessing,  is  perhaps  doubtful.  But  *in  spite  of  the  destructive  effect  of 
his  editor's  discoveries,  Drummond  remains  still  a  genuine  poet.  It  is  true 
that  in  his  longer  poems  he  can  be  dreadfully  turgid  and  wearisome : 
take  for  example  his  '  Shadow  of  the  Judgement '  where  the  appended 
words  '  The  rest  is  desired '  provoke  a  smile.  But  in  his  Sonnets  he  has 
been  forced  to  compress  his  thought  and  attains  great  excellence,  an 


Reviews  269 

excellence  which  is  by  no  means  entirely  due  to  his  borrowings  from 
others.  Sonnet  xxxn  (I,  30)  is  borrowed  largely  from  Desportes :  but 
Desportes  gives  no  hint  for  the  fine  lines, 

If  this  vaine  world  be  but  a  sable  Stage 

Where  slaue-borne  Man  playes  to  the  scoffing  Starres. 

If  Professor  Kastner  has  narrowed  the  field  of  Drummond's  achieve- 
ment, he  has  also  confirmed  his  title  to  what  is  left. 

G.  C.  MOORE  SMITH. 

SHEFFIELD. 


The  Poems  of  John  Donne.  Edited  from  the  old  editions  and  numerous 
manuscripts,  with  Introductions  and  Commentary  by  HERBERT 
J.  C.  GRIERSON.  2  vols.  Oxford :  Clarendon  Press.  lt)12.  Svo. 
xxiv  +  474,  cliii  +  276  pp. 

The  reputation  of  Dr  John  Donne  has  sensibly  advanced  during  the 
last  decade.  Possibly  it  stands  now  higher  than  ever  it  did  since  a  new 
manner  of  writing  first  displaced  his  as  a  model  for  the  versifiers  of  the 
Restoration.  And  this  revaluation,  for  which  men  of  letters,  caught 
by  the  essential  poetry  in  Donne,  and  literary  historians,  discerning 
his  unique  influence  upon  the  fashioning  of  Caroline  verse,  are  almost 
equally  responsible,  now  receives  its  appropriate  seal  in  Professor 
Grierson's  elaborate  and  critical  volumes,  which  present  one  of  the  most 
difficult  of  wTiters  in  a  far  more  satisfactory  guise  than  that  of  the 
editions  pour  servir  hitherto  available.  The  central  feature  of 
Professor  Grierson's  work  is  the  systematic  taking  into  account,  for  the 
first  time,  not  only  of  the  printed  seventeenth  century  texts,  practically 
none  of  which  appeared  during  Donne's  lifetime,  but  also  of  a  number 
of  those  manuscript  collections,  in  which  his  verse  received  its  wide, 
and,  after  he  became  Doctor  and  repented  of  his  youthful  frailties, 
almost  surreptitious,  circulation  amongst  his  own  contemporaries. 
Professor  Grierson  has  not  of  course  attempted  to  collate  every  one 
of  the  innumerable  commonplace  books  in  which  handfuls  of  Donne's 
verses  were  written  out  in  company  with  those  of  other  admired  poets 
of  the  day.  The  labour  of  such  a  task  would  have  been  wholly 
incommensurate  with  its  critical  outcome.  But  he  has  worked  through 
many  of  these,  together  with  all  that  he  found  available  of  the  more 
important  volumes  which  may  be  regarded  as  specialist  collections,  on  a 
smaller  or  a  greater  scale,  of  Donne.  In  all  he  has  examined  between 
twenty  and  thirty  manuscripts,  and  '  with  the  feeling  recently,'  he  tells 
us,  '  of  moving  in  a  circle — that  new  manuscripts  were  in  part  or  whole 
duplicates  of  those  which  had  been  already  examined,  and  confirmed 
readings  already  noted  but  did*  not  suggest  anything  fresh/  The 
results  of  this  extensive  investigation  are  incorporated  in  an  apparatus 
criticus,  and  with  their  aid  the  editor  is  enabled,  at  any  rate  in  certain 
groups  of  poems,  to  suggest  considerable  improvements  in  the  traditional 


270  -Revieivs 

text  of  the  seventeenth  century  editions.  He  expresses  an  opinion  that 
the  evidence  of  the  manuscripts  also  serves  to  confirm  the  authority  of 
the  first,  and  admittedly  the  best,  of  those  editions,  that  of  1633.  I  own 
that  I  find  it  a  little  difficult  to  follow  his  reasoning  on  this  point.  The 
general  concurrence  of  the  text  of  1633  with  the  manuscripts  examined 
seems  to  me  to  prove  little  more  than  that  this  text  fairly  represents 
the  manuscript  tradition  as  the  publisher  or  editor  of  1633  found  it.  It 
would  surely  have  been  a  more  indisputable  evidence  of  authority,  had 
it  differed  notably  from  the  current  manuscript  tradition,  for  that  would 
have  suggested  the  possibility  of  its  having  been  printed  from  Donne's 
original  manuscripts  or  early  copies  of  these,  instead  of  being  compiled, 
as  it  appears  to  have  been,  from  copies  which  had  undergone  a  lengthy 
process  of  transcription  from  hand  to  hand.  And  it  still  remains  possible, 
so  far  as  any  external  evidence  is  concerned,  that  some  of  the  new 
readings  introduced  in  1635  or  1649,  even  although  they  have  little 
or  no  manuscript  support,  may  none  the  less  derive  more  immediately, 
through  some  authoritative  channel,  from  such  an  original  source,  than 
either  the  text  of  1633  itself,  or  the  manuscripts  cognate  to  it.  For 
Professor  Grierson's  labours,  fruitful  as  they  are  in  many  directions,  have 
not  done  much  to  dispel  the  very  considerable  bibliographical  mystery 
that  hangs  about  the  early  prints.  We  do  not  know  who,  if  anyone, 
aided  the  printer  in  an  editorial  capacity.  Professor  Grierson  guesses 
Henry  King  for  1633,  just  as  one  may  guess  Izaak  Walton  for  1635. 
We  do  not  know  why  it  was  thought  desirable  to  alter  the  grouping 
of  the  poems  in  1635,  or  why  the  new  grouping,  with  its  rather  notice- 
able group-titles,  confesses  the  influence  of  a  collection  closely  analogous 
to  the  so-called  O' Flaherty  MS.,  which  was  itself  obviously  prepared  for 
publication  before  the  1633  volume  appeared,  and  contains  a  text  which 
in  certain  particulars  may  be  said  to  take  sides  with  1635  against  1633 
and  the  bulk  of  the  manuscripts.  We  do  not  know  who  prepared 
this  manuscript.  John  Donne  the  younger  has  been  suggested,  but 
this  happens  to  be  just  the  one  impossible  name,  since  a  poem  by  John 
Donne  the  younger  to  his  father  has  been  carelessly  included,  as  if 
it  were  a  poem  by  John  Donne  the  elder  himself.  And  least  of  all 
do  we  know  the  circumstances  which  led  John  Donne  the  younger 
to  represent  to  Archbishop  Laud  in  1637  that  some  of  the  poems 
already  in  print  were  none  of  his  father's,  and  then,  after  getting  a 
power  of  control  over  reprints,  to  take  no  apparent  steps  to  enforce 
it  against  the  1639  edition,  and  when  he  did  intervene  in  1650,  to 
eliminate  nothing,  but  on  the  contrary  add  a  good  deal,  some  of  it 
of  very  questionable  value  and  even  authenticity.  It  should  perhaps  be 
added  that  a  controversy  as  to  the  precise  degree  of  '  authority '  vested 
in  the  1633  text  is  not  of  the  first  importance.  However  positively 
an  editor  may  think  that  he  can  vindicate  his  right  to  be  'eclectic,' 
he  will  still  find  himself,  as  a  rule,  exercising  his  option  in  favour  of 
1633  as  against  1635  or  1649.  And  I  should  be  the  first  to  admit  that 
there  are  many  passages  in  which  Professor  Grierson  has  been  wholly 
successful  in  rehabilitating  a  1633  reading  which  his  predecessors  had 


Reviews  271 

improperly  discarded  ;  successful,  as  a  rule,  I  should  add,  not  by  bringing 
manuscript  evidence  to  bear,  but  by  a  greater  patience  than  that  of  his 
predecessors  in  tracing  the  logic  of  Donne's  thought,  or  a  more  abundant 
knowledge  of  scholastic  writings  and  of  the  parallel  passages  in  Donne's 
controversial  and  homiletic  books. 

To  his  work  on  the  text,  not  forgetting  the  punctuation,  and  to 
a  rich  illustrative  commentary,  Professor  Grierson  adds  a  careful  study 
of  the  sources  of  Donne's  poems,  and  reaches  some  interesting  results. 
He  is,  I  think,  quite  successful  in  demonstrating  the  probability  that 
a  whole  group  of  poems,  amongst  which  are  some  ascribed  to  Donne  in 
1635,  are  to  be  assigned  to  the  little-known  writer,  Sir  John  Roe.  He 
has  identified  the  author  of  the  well-known  verses  beginning  'Absence, 
hear  thou  my  protestation '  with  John  Hoskins,  and  makes  us  regret 
the  more,  that  the  volume  of  poems  '  bigger  than  those  of  Dr  Donne,' 
which  Aubrey  tells  us  that  Hoskins  left  behind  him,  has  eithej1  vanished 
or  escaped  observation.  And  he  has  interested  me  much  by  the 
suggestion,  for  which  there  is  a  trifle  of  manuscript  corroboration, 
that  one  of  the  several  sets  of  verses,  that  beginning  '  Death,  be  not 
proud,'  on  the  untimely  death  of  Cecil  Bulstrode,  may  possibly  be  not  by 
Donne,  but  by  Lucy,  Countess  of  Bedford.  But  it  is  ticklish  work, 
allocating  Jacobean  adespota.  The  manuscript  attributions  are  often 
inconsistent,  and  the  themes  and  manners  often  common  property. 
I  have  tried  elsewhere  to  show  that  the  best  claim  to  the  verses 
'  Victorious  beauty,  though  your  eyes,'  which  Professor  Grierson  gives  to 
the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  is  probably  that  of  Aurelian  Townshend.. 

E.  K.  CHAMBERS. 
PINNER. 


The  Riddles  of  the  Exeter  Book.  Edited  with  Introduction,  Notes  and 
Glossary  by  FREDERICK  TUPPER,  Jr.  Boston:  Ginn  and  Co.  1910. 
8vo.  cxi  +  292  pp. 

'  Learning,'  said  Bacon,  '  would  be  yet  more  advanced  if  there  were 
more  intelligence  mutual  between  the  universities  of  Europe  than  now 
there  is.'  We  are  apt  in  these  days  to  think  complacently  that  the 
literary  isolation  of  the  seventeenth  century  is  a  thing  of  the  past.  And 
it  gives  the  student  something  of  a  shock  to  realise,  that  in  a  small 
subject  such  as  Anglo-Saxon,  where  workers  at  home  and  abroad  are 
supposed  to  be  in  rapid  communication,  so  important  a  text  as  Professor 
Tupper's  Riddles  of  the  Exeter  Book  can  be  published  in  America,  and 
can  have  made  at  the  end  of  four  years  so  little  impression  in  England. 
One  cannot  but  suspect  that  the  fault  must  lie  to  a  great  extent  with 
the  publishers,  and  that  the  work  can  hardly  have  been  advertised  in 
this  country  as  it  should  have  been.  Yet,  after  all  allowances,  it  is 
astonishing  how  little  is  at  the  present  moment  known  here  of  Pro- 
fessor Tupper's  magnificent  edition,  even  amongst  those  who  are  working 
steadily  at  Anglo-Saxon  texts.  For  example,  the  Athenceum  reviewer 


272  Reviews 

of  Mr  Wyatt's  edition  of  the  Riddles  makes  no  mention  of  Professor 
Tapper's1. 

The  present  reviewer  has  to  plead  guilty  to  a  more  serious  act  of 
ignorance.  Nearly  two  years  ago  he  published  in  Anglia  the  result  of 
an  investigation  of  Robert  Chambers'  transcript  of  the  Exeter  Book, 
now  preserved  in  the  British  Museum.  This  transcript,  made  in  1833, 
when  the  Exeter  Book  was  in  a  better  condition  than  now,  enables  us  to 
restore  some  of  the  lost  letters  in  the  minor  poems.  The  article  in 
Anglia  pointed  out  how  certain  passages  in  the  '  Husband's  Message ' 
could  be  cleared  up  by  means  of  the  transcript,  and  predicted  that  it 
would  prove  even  more  useful  in  restoring  the  mutilated  passages  in  the 
Riddles.  The  writer  was  not  aware  how  mlly  and  well  this  evidence  had 
already  been  used  in  the  preparation  of  Tupper's  text  of  the  Riddles. 

This  is  probably  the  best  edition  of  any  Anglo-Saxon  text  which  has 
been  attempted.  And  its  editor  is  certainly  right  in  claiming  that  the 
text  he  has  chosen  is  'the  most  difficult  in  the  field  of  Anglo-Saxon.'  The 
completeness  of  the  introduction,  with,  its  extraordinary  knowledge  of 
the  riddle-literature  of  many  nations  and  ages,  and  the  fullness  of  the 
explanatory  notes  and  glossary  are  all  that  can  be  desired.  But,  in 
addition  to  this,  it  has  been  Professor  Tupper's  good  fortune,  by  means 
of  the  renewed  scrutiny  of  the  Exeter  Book,  and  by  the  use  he  has 
made  of  the  transcript  of  1833,  to  produce  a  text  which  is  a  great 
advance  upon  any  preceding  one.  Excellent  introductions  and  glos- 
saries we  have  a  right  to  expect,  but  at  this  time  of  day  it  happens  very 
seldom  that  an  editor  is  able  to  add  so  materially  as  Professor  Tupper 
has  done  to  the  accuracy  of  the  text  he  is  studying.  In  the  most 
damaged  and  mutilated  passages  the  recovery  of  a  single  letter  may  be 
of  the  utmost  value  :  such  a  letter  may  confirm,  or  (much  more  probably) 
confute,  the  favourite  conjectural  restoration  of  the  passage.  After  all, 
an  examination  of  the  manuscript  will  often  settle  a  problem  better 
than  disputatious  articles  running  to  thousands  of  words.  It  is  the 
more  to  be  regretted  that  scholars  have  spent  so  much  time  in  discussing 
the  possibilities  of  the  manuscript  reading  this  or  that,  instead  of  looking 
at  the  manuscript  to  see  what  it  actually  does  read.  In  the  Riddles, 
more  than  in  most  texts,  we  have  had  innumerable  erudite  and  even 
plausible  restorations  of  mutilated  passages — all  built  upon  the  insecure 
foundation  of  an  imperfect  collation  of  the  manuscripts.  There  is 
something  pathetic  in  the  thought  of  the  many  German  scholars  who, 
in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  having  merely  Thorpe's  edition 
before  them,  were  spending  painful  hours  in  trying  to  fill  in  some  of  the 
most  puzzling  gaps,  where  portions  of  the  text  of  the  Riddles  had  been 
burnt  away.  A  visit  to  England  and  an  examination  of  the  Exeter 
Book  would  have  sufficed  to  show  them  that  the  word  suggested  could 
never,  by  any  possibility,  have  stood  in  the  place  allotted  to  it.  Few 
studies  support  the  words  of  the  preacher  as  to  the  vanity  of  things  in 
general,  and  of  the  making  of  books  in  particular,  more  conclusively 

1  Atherusum,  Dec.  7,  1912. 


Reviews  273 

than  does  an  investigation  of  the  history  of  the  conjectural  emendation 
of  the  Riddles  of  the  Exeter  Book. 

To  turn  from  this  lament  to  Professor  Tupper's  edition.  Here  at 
last  there  is  no  building  upon  the  sand.  First  of  all  the  text  is  fixed, 
to  every  letter  and  fragment  of  a  letter.  Then,  in  matters  of  interpre- 
tation and  solution,  the  editor  uses,  not  any  individual,  sharp-sighted 
cleverness,  but  a  methodical  comparison  of  the  ways  of  riddle- writers 
throughout  the  centuries.  In  this  Professor  Tupper's  method  forms 
a  remarkable  contrast  to  that  of,  for  example,  Professor  Trautmann. 
Although  Trautmann's  conjectures  are  always  clever,  often  brilliant, 
and  sometimes  convincing,  they  are  apt  to  be  vitiated  by  a  want  of  the 
historical  method ;  and  his  own  readiness  to  withdraw  solutions  pre- 
viously offered  by  himself,  whilst  it  shows  a  praiseworthy  alertness  of 
mind,  shows  also  how  little  claim  to  finality  many  of  his  solutions  have. 

Yet  in  one  respect  Professor  Tupper  himself  has  made^an  extra- 
ordinary change  since  the  publication  of  this  edition.  He  summarises 
the  result  of  his  enquiry  thus  : 

'  The  Riddles  were  not  written  by  Cynewulf :  all  evidence  of  the  least  value 
speaks  against  his  claim.  It  seems  fairly  certain  that  they  are  products  of  the 
North.  Their  place  as  literary  compositions  (not  as  folk-riddles)  in  one  collection, 
and  their  homogeneous  artistry,  which  finds  abundant  vindication  in  a  hundred 
common  traits,  argue  strongly  for  a  single  author,  though  a  small  group  of  problems 
brings  convincing  evidence  against  complete  unity.  That  their  period  was  the 
beginning  of  the  eighth  century,  the  hey-day  of  Anglo-Latin  riddle-poetry,  is  an 
inviting  surmise  unsustained  by  proof.'  (Page  Ixxix.) 

In  the  meantime  Professor  Tupper  has  become  convinced  that  the 
so-called  First  Riddle,  which  in  his  edition  he  passed  over  as  '  demanding 
no  place  here,'  is  in  reality  an  enigma  which  conceals  the  name  of 
Cynewulf,  and  so  shows  us  who  is  the  author  of  the  Riddles.  The  lot 
of  a  convert  is  seldom  an  easy  one,  and  Professor  Tupper  has  been  in- 
volved in  a  good  deal  of  controversy,  which  is  by  no  means  over  yet. 
Into  this  controversy,  however,  a  reviewer  of  this  edition  has  no  call  to 
enter,  since  the  Cynewulfian  authorship  is  not  here  asserted.  The 
reviewer  has  the  much  more  pleasant  duty  of  thanking  Professor  Tupper 
for  an  edition  of  the  most  difficult  text  in  Anglo-Saxon  literature ;  an 
edition  so  excellent  that  it  approaches  finality  as  nearly  as  such  approach 
is  possible. 

R.  W.  CHAMBERS* 

LONDON. 


The  Pronunciation   of   English  in  Scotland.      By   WILLIAM    GRANT. 
Cambridge:  University  Press.     1913.     8vo.     xvi  +  207pp. 

Mr  Grant  is  Lecturer  on  Phonetics  to  the  Provincial  Committee  for 
the  Training  of  Teachers  at  Aberdeen,  and  his  book  is  intended  primarily 
for  the  use  of  students  in  Scottish  Training  Colleges.  It  is  a  very 
useful  book,  and  will  no  doubt  promote  the  cause  of  phonetics  in  the 
North.  The  book  is  not  so  much  a  study  of  dialect  speech  as  a  practical 

M.  L.  R.  ix.  18 


274  Reviews 

handbook  of  what  the  author  calls  '  Polite  Scotch.'  Thus  the  statements 
are  made  in  a  more  or  less  didactic  spirit.  A  standard  is  set  up  and 
recommended  for  general  acceptance;  and  Scotchmen  a,re  even  advised 
to  discard  their  own  peculiar  intonation  in  favour  of  that  of  Southern 
English.  We  will  refrain  from  entering  into  a  discussion  as  to  whether 
it  is  desirable  or  even  possible  to  prescribe  a  uniform  pronunciation  for 
so  large  and  diversified  a  country  as  Scotland.  Uniformity  can  only  be 
brought  about  by  slow  and  steady  development  accordirig  to  the  laws  of 
adaptation  to  natural  surroundings,  and  the  survival  of  the  fittest.  The 
few  phonetic  lessons  which  can  at  best  be  given  to  a  small  number  of 
people,  many  of  whom  have  neither  sympathy  nor  aptitude  for  the 
subject,  will  not  materially  accelerate  the  natural  process  of  unification. 
The  monstrous  and  ill-conceived  scheme  of  imposing  the  so-called 
stage-pronunciation  upon  the  German  schools  was  quickly  abandoned, 
having  met  with  widespread  resistance  from  both  teachers  and  pupils. 
Whether  a  similar  movement  in  favour  of  '  Polite  Scotch '  will  result  in 
similar  resistance  remains  to  be  seen. 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  in  what  directions  things  are  moving  in 
Scotland  at  the  present  time.  The  Scottish  language,  that  peculiar 
form  of  the  Old  Northumbrian  dialect,  has  shared  the  tragic  fate  of  the 
once  vigorous  and  promising  Low  German  idiom.  Scotland  did  not, 
nor  could  it,  enjoy  the  advantage  of  that  political  independence  which 
accounts  for  the  rise  and  establishment  of  the  Dutch  language  as  a 
literary  form  of  speech;  nor  are  we  prepared  to  say  whether  such 
independence — political  and  linguistic — would  have  added  to  the  in- 
tellectual or  material  prosperity  of  the  Scottish  nation.  Long  before  the 
Union  of  the  Crowns  in  1606,  the  Scottish  language  had  been  invaded 
by  southern  words  and  idioms,  and  after  the  Union  of  the  Kingdoms 
its  influence  rapidly  declined.  In  1825,  Jamieson  the  lexicographer  and 
ardent  patriot  woefully  remarks,  that  many  of  his  nation  '  not  only  in 
the  higher  but  even  in  the  middle  ranks  of  life  now  affect  to  despise 
all  the  terms  or  phrases  peculiar  to  their  country,  as  gross  vulgarisms.' 
They  imitated  the  standard  English  of  their  period,  and  Mr  Grant 
justly  remarks  that  the  language  of  the  educated  Scotchman  is,  broadly 
speaking,  eighteenth  century  English  pronounced  with  Scotch  sounds, 
English  in  the  mouths  of  the  Lowlanders;  just  as  standard  German  is 
High  German  as  spoken  by  the  Low  Germans,  and  standard  Italian,  as 
some  will  have  it,  'lingua  toscana  in  bocca  romana.'  The  most  out- 
standing features  of  Scottish  dialects  are,  therefore,  lost  in  'Polite' 
speech :  the  gh  is  mute  in  night,  right,  etc. ;  the  Old  English  u  in  house 
is  diphthongised ;  Old  English  a  is  represented  by  a  rounded  vowel,  and 
Old  English  o  is  u  or  something  like  it,  instead  of  being  a  rounded 
front  vowel.  On  the  other  hand,  Scotch  differs  from  southern  English 
in  retaining  the  undivided,  uniform  vowels  e  (mid-front-narrow),  and 
o  (mid-back-narrow-round)  in  words  like  hate  and  coat ;  in  pronouncing 
r  as  a  distinctly  trilled  consonant  in  all  positions,  though  there  seems 
to  be  an  ever-growing  tendency  to  replace  the  point-trill  by  the  uvular 
variety.  There  exist,  of  course,  other  points  of  difference  clearly 


Reviews  275 

exhibited  in  Mr  Grant's  book,  which,  however,  we  must  not  dwell  upon 
here. 

Mr  Grant  distinguishes  three  Styles  of  pronunciation  or  delivery. 
We  cannot  but  express  some  doubts  as  to  the  wisdom  of  including  the 
first,  or  oratorical  one.  It  seems  to  be  nothing  more  than  an  affected, 
not  to  say  objectionable,  form  of  speech,  chiefly  characterised  by  an 
artificial  enunciation  of  the  unstressed  vowels  according  to  the  spelling. 
We  do  not  think  its  use  should  be  encouraged — least  of  all  by  a 
philologist  with  an  historical  training — and  doubt  very  much  whether 
the  best  speakers  ever  do  use  it  at  all.  Advocates  of  this  soi-disant 
more  dignified  pronunciation  would  do  well  to  ponder  the  words  of 
Hugh  Blair,  who,  writing  more  than  a  hundred  and  thirty  years  ago, 
advises  intending  public  speakers  to  bear  in  mind  this  '  capital 
direction,'  viz.,  '  to  copy  the  proper  tones  for  expressing  every  sentiment 
from  those  which  Nature  dictates  to  us,  in  conversation  with  -ethers ;  to 
speak  always  with  her  voice ;  and  not  to  form  to  ourselves  a  fantastic 
public  manner,  from  an  absurd  fancy  of  its  being  more  beautiful  than 
a  natural  one.' 

Mr  Grant  adds  a  large  number  of  texts  in  phonetic  transcription, 
which  are  worked  out  and  printed  with  surprising  exactitude,  creditable 
both  to  the  author  and  the  Press.  There  are  but  few  renderings  of 
real  dialect  speech.  Many  poets  are  represented,  from  Shakespeare  to 
Calverley,  but  the  foreign  student  interested  in  things  Scottish  will 
search  in  vain  for  a  passage  from  Burns.  Why  is  that  so  ?  .Is  it 
because  no  one  knows  how  the  national  bard  ought  to  be  read,  or 
because  every  Scotchman  has  his  own  peculiar  views  on  the  subject  ? 
We  wish  Mr  Grant  would  next  apply  his  eminent  skill  and  knowledge  to 
compiling  a  separate  book  containing  transcriptions  of  Burns'  work,  in 
various  styles  and  dialects,  as  pronounced  by  the  town-dwellers  and 
humble  country-folk  in  different  parts  of  the  country.  By  these  means 
he  would  earn  the  gratitude  of  numerous  lovers  of  the  literature  of  his 
nation. 

HEINRICH  MUTSCHMANN. 

NOTTINGHAM. 


Litterature  espagnole.  Par  JAMES  FITZMAURICE-KELLY.  2e  Edition, 
refondue  et  augmeritee.  Paris,  Armand  Colin.  1913.  pp.  xv  + 
494,  and  Bibliographic,  pp.  78. 

Historia  de  la  Literatura  Espanola.  Por  JAIME  FITZMAURICE-KELLY, 
Individuo  de  la  Academia  Britanica;  C.  de  las  RR.  Academias 
Espanola  y  de  la  Historia.  Madrid,  Libreria  General  de  Victoriano 
Suarez.  1913.  pp.  xi  +  579. 

Professor  Fitzmaurice-Kelly's  Litterature  espagnole  (translated  by 
Henry  D.  Davray)  first  appeared  in  1904.  It  was  undoubtedly  the 
best  manual  of  Spanish  literature  that  had  appeared  in  any  language 
down  to  that  date.  Since  then  investigations  in  this  field  have  not 

18—2 


276  Reviews 

been  at  a  standstill,  and,  the  edition  being  exhausted,  the  author, 
instead  of  revising  it  and  bringing  it  to  date  by  means  of  notes  or 
corrections,  decided  to  rewrite  the  book,  and  the  result  is  an  entirely 
new  work,  in  which,  at  most,  a  few  phrases  of  the  old  edition  have 
been  retained.  The  author,  moreover,  resolved  to  be  his  own  translator, 
and  his  work  shows  a  mastery  of  French  style  rarely  acquired  by  a 
foreigner. 

At  the  same  time  that  this  French  edition  was  issued,  a  Spanish 
version  appeared  at  Madrid,  and  as  no  translator's  name  is  mentioned  on 
the  title-page,  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  this  Spanish  version  is  also  the 
work  of  Professor  Fitzmaurice-Kelly,  a  tour  de  force  that  is  certainly 
very  remarkable. 

That  the  author  has  succeeded  in  greatly  improving  the  first  edition, 
excellent  as  that  was,  a  careful  comparison  of  the  two  works  will  at 
once  show,  and  while  the  same  division  into  periods  is  retained,  the 
treatment  is  quite  independent.  Chapter  I  (Introduction)  is  entirely 
new.  In  the  old  edition  it  occupies  forty  pages,  in  the  new  only  ten. 
Personally,  I  wish  the  author  had  retained  some  of  the  fine  pages  in  the 
first  edition,  but  something  had  to  go  by  the  board  to  make  room 
for  other  matter,  and  it  is  interesting  to  see  what  the  author  chose 
to  discard.  On  the  whole,  the  new  chapter,  from  the  view-point  of  our 
present  knowledge  is  no  doubt  an  improvement  upon  the  old. 

Most  of  the  additions  seem  to  be  made  in  Chapter  IV  (L'Epoque 
didactique,  1295-1406),  from  sixteen  pages  to  thirty-two,  and  Chapter 
V  (L'Epoque  de  Jean  II,  1406-1454)  from  eighteen  pages  to  thirty- 
four.  Here  the  additional  space  at  his  disposition  has  enabled  Prof. 
Fitzmaurice-Kelly  to  go  into  much  greater  detail — the  Archpriest  of 
Hita,  Don  Juan  Manuel,  the  Poema  de  Alfonso  Onceno  and  Pero  Lopez 
de  Ayala  are  treated  at  length — and  the  Cantar  de  Rodrigo  is  discussed 
in  connection  with  the  Poema  de  Alfonso  Onceno,  instead  of  in  the 
Epoque  anonyme,  as  in  the  first  edition.  On  the  whole  this  chapter  is 
a  vast  improvement  over  the  older  form.  The  same  may  be  said  of 
the  Epoque  de  Jean  II.  Since  Prof.  Fitzmaurice-Kelly 's  book  was 
published,  or  rather  while  it  was  in  the  press,  Prof.  Crawford  has  shown 
that  the  first,  third,  fourth  and  fifth  chapters  of  the  Vision  delectable  of 
Alfonso  de  la  Torre  are  taken  from  the  Etijmologiae  of  Isidore  of  Seville  • 
and  the  Anticlaudianus,  while  the  second  Chapter  finds  its  source  in 
a  part  of  Al  Ghazzall's  treatise  on  Logic  contained  in  his  Makdsid 
al-Faldsifa  ('  The  Tendencies  of  the  Philosophers,'  Romanic  Review, 
Vol.  iv,  p.  58).  Chapter  VI  (L'Epoque  d'Henri  IV  et  des  Kois 
Catholiques,  1454-1516)  contains  a  discussion  of  the  Romances.  Here 
again  the  treatment  is  in  much  greater  detail — six  additional  pages 
being  devoted  to  them.  There  is  no  more  fascinating  subject  in 
Spanish  literature  than  these  romances — these  haunting  ballads  which 
we  have  been  told  are  so  ancient — some  of  them  dating  back,  it  is 
alleged,  to  the  twelfth  century,  and  we  should  like  to  believe  it,  but, 
alas  !  their  antiquity  has  been  gradually  diminishing.  The  Cantares  de 
gesta,  in  which  they  are  said  to  have  had  their  origin,  and  which  were  at 


Reviews  277 

first  destined  for  the  aristocracy,  passed,  at  the  period  of  their  decadence 
from  the  castle  to  the  public  square ;  from  fragments  of  these  cantares, 
as  they  were  recited  by  the  jongleurs,  the  people  are  assumed  to  have 
created  these  romances  spontaneous^.  This  change  is  said  to  have 
taken  place  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century,  and  the  oldest 
romances  are,  therefore,  merely  fragments,  more  or  less  modified,  of  the 
latest  cantares  de  gesta.  This  is  the  theory  of  Menendez  Pidal,  and  it  is 
certainly  attractive.  It  has  recently  been  minutely  examined,  with  his 
accustomed  acumen,  by  Foulche-Delbosc  (Essai  sur  les  origines  du 
Romancer o,  Prelude.  Paris,  1912),  and  it  must  be  admitted  that 
the  beautiful  structure  reared  by  the  distinguished  Spanish  critic 
is  tottering.  Discussing  the  romances  fronterizos,  which  are  said  to 
have  their  origin  in  contemporary  events,  Foulche-Delbosc  shows  that 
three  romances,  classed  among  the  earliest  by  Menendez  Pidal  are 
founded  upon  wholly  imaginary  events — a  fact,  indeed,  that  "had  been 
admitted  long  ago  by  Menendez  y  Pelayo  for  the  ballads  concerning 
Don  Rodrigo  Giron,  the  Master  of  Calatrava.  It  is  undoubtedly  true, 
as  M.  Foulche-Delbosc  says,  that  in  the  present  state  of  our  knowledge, 
it  is  premature  to  establish  a  chronological  classification  of  the  romances. 
But  it  is  impossible,  in  the  space  at  my  command,  to  review  every 
chapter  of  this  excellent  work  in  detail,  and  while  it  is  hard  to  dis- 
criminate where  the  work  is  all  of  such  a  uniformly  high  order,  still, 
perhaps  one  of  the  best  chapters  in  the  volume  is  the  one  dedicated 
to  the  Epoch  of  Lope  de  Vega  (1598 — 1621);  this  preference  is 
due  more  to  the  fact  that  it  contains  most  of  the  greatest  names  in 
Spanish  literature,  than  to  any  other  reason.  Mr  Fitzmaurice-Kelly 
(p.  297)  seems  to  have  some  doubt  as  to  the  identity  of  the  Felices 
de  Vega  who  died  in  1578  ;  it  is,  however,  almost  as  certain  as  anything 
can  be  without  positive  proof,  that  the  bordador  who  died  in  that 
year  was  Lope's  father. 

It  may  be  added  that  the  nineteenth  century  receives  in  this  edition 
a  much  enlarged  treatment,  the  work  being  brought  down  to  the 
present  day  in  the  last  chapter  '  La  litterature  depuis  1868.'  Lastly, 
the  bibliography  is  easily  the  best  and  most  complete  that  has  yet  been 
published  :  here  the  reader  will  find  recorded  every  book  and  every 
article  of  any  importance  that  has  appeared  down  to  the  year  1913. 
Taking  it  all  in  all,  Prof.  Fitzmaurice- Kelly's  Litterature  espagnole  is 
a  work  of  the  first  order,  and  is  indispensable  to  every  student  of 
Spanish  literature. 

H.  A.  RENNERT. 

PHILADELPHIA,  U.S.A. 


278  Revieivs 

Uncle  and  Nephew  in  the  Old  French  Chansons  de  Geste.  A  Study  in 
the  Survival  of  Matriarchy.  By  WILLIAM  OLIVER  FARNSWORTH. 
New  York:  Columbia  University  Press.  (London:  H.  Milford.) 
1913.  8vo.  xii  +  267pp. 

Dr  Farnsworth's  main  thesis  is  interesting  and  quite  unworked. 
He  aims  at  showing  that  a  matriarchal  state  of  society  has  left  clear 
traces  in  tradition  and  sentiment,  if  not  in  legal  institutions,  in  the 
extant  chansons  de  geste.  He  has  read  widely  and  observantly  in 
the  field  of  the  Old  French  epic— some  '300,000  verses,'  as  he  is 
at  some  pains  to  inform  us — but  he  prejudices  his  case  very  greatly 
by  the  lack  of  critical  method  he  shows  in  sifting  his  material  and 
the  bias  he  occasionally  displays  in  his  interpretation  of  the  texts 
he  is  using.  The  most  flagrant  example  of  misrepresentation  is  found 
in  his  treatment  of  Raoul  de  Cambrai.  Readers  who  relied  on  the 
presentment  of  the  story  of  this  epic  given  by  Dr  Farnsworth,  his 
analysis  of  motive  and  account  of  the  relationship  between  the  characters, 
would  here  be  greatly  misled.  It  is  obvious,  indeed,  that  when  a  poem 
has  for  its  personages  (1)  an  uncle  on  the  mother's  side  (Louis), 
neglectful  of  all"  avuncular  duties ;  (2)  an  uncle  on  the  father's  side 
(Guerri  le  Sor),  careful  to  fulfil  all  the  obligations  of  relationship,  and 
(3)  a  '  nourri '  (Bernier),  who  accounts  his  duty  to  his  lord  above  the 
ties  of  kinship,  it  can  only  be  made  to  yield  strong  evidence  for  the 
'survival  of  matriarchy'  by  a  rather  deft  manipulation.  Indeed  Dr  Farns- 
worth only  succeeds  by  misrepresenting  Bernier's  motives  for  leaving 
Raoul  (cf.  pp.  69 — 70)  and  by  omitting  to  note  highly  significant  facts, 
such  as  the  exact  relationship  of  the  respective  uncles,  the  unfairness  of 
the  treatment  meted  out  by  Louis  to  Raoul.  and  the  mother's  charge  to 
Guerri  le  Sor  to  look  after  Raoul1.  It  is  only  fair  to  Dr  Farnsworth 
to  add  that  the  extant  poem  of  Raoul  de  Cambrai,  the  work  of  a 
remanieur  of  the  worst  type,  a  man  poverty-stricken  in  vocabulary 
and  without  any  real  grasp  of  the  situation,  lends  itself  very  readily 
to  misinterpretation,  and  that  no  other  of  the  chansons  de  geste  that  he 
deals  with  appears  to  me  to  be  so  gravely  misrepresented,  though  minor 
inexactitudes  are  here  and  there  observable. 

More  damaging  still  to  his  presentment  of  his  case  is  the  lack  of 
critical  method  shown  in  the  collection  and  use  of  his  material.  In 
theory  Dr  Farnsworth  is  fully  apprised  of  the  conditions  that  determine 
the  validity  of  the  evidence  he  has  collected,  but  in  practice  he  has  not 
been  able  to  bring  himself  to  regard  them.  One  sympathises — his  store 
of  material  would  have  been  so  singularly  depleted  if  he  had  been  strict 
with  himself — but  the  result  is  none  the  less  unfortunate.  He  is  aware, 
for  instance,  that  throughout  the  chansons  de  geste  literary  tradition 
often  exercises  a  potent  influence  on  the  construction  of  plot,  the 
shaping  of  a  scene,  the  presentment  of  character  or  motive  of  action, 
but  none  the  less  do  we  find  that  undoubted  imitations  or  late  literary 

1  The  importance  of  this  charge  is  exemplified  in  the  Chanyun  de  Willelme,  where 
Guiborc's  similar  charge  induces  William  to  neglect  his  own  nephew  Girart  in  order  to 
bring  back  the  body  of  Guiborc's  renegade  nephew  Guischart 


Reviews  279 

epics  like  Fouques  de  Candie,  the  Enfances  Vivien,  Anse'is  de  Cartage, 
to  say  nothing  of  poems  like  Renaut  de  Montauban  and  the  Chanson 
des  Saisnes,  whose  precise  character  is  yet  undetermined,  are  accepted 
as  supplying  as  cogent  evidence  as  the  older  Willelme  or  Roland  or 
Raoul  de  Cambrai.  Again  the  author  knows — he  is  careful,  indeed,  to 
explain  it  to  us  in  his  Introduction — that  nies  is  a  highly  ambiguous 
word,  used  to  denote  '  grandson '  and  '  kinsman,'  as  well  as  '  nephew/ 
but  later  on  examples  are  quoted  in  support  of  his  thesis  in  which  no 
proof  is  given  that  'nephew'  is  the  precise  significance  of  the  term. 
Thirdly  and  most  important  of  all,  Dr  Farnsworth,  in  pp.  44 — 197,  i.e. 
the  main  part  of  the  book,  treats  all  nephews  and  all  uncles  as  if  they 
were  all  equally  significant  from  his  point  of  view,  attempting  no 
distinction  between  sister's  and  brother's  sons,  nor  between  maternal 
and  paternal  uncles,  though  in  some  cases  the  relationship  is  clearly 
stated  in  the  chanson  de  geste  itself  or  can  be  readily  deduced! 

The  short  chapter  IV  (a)  and  the  Appendix  A,  in  fact,  really 
contain  all  the  evidence  which  has  direct  bearing  on  the  subject,  though 
perhaps  more  might  be  gleaned  by  a  careful  sifting  of  the  preceding 
chapters.  The  book  is  thus  half  as  long  again  as  it  should  have  been, 
and  its  few  facts  and  observations  of  undoubted  interest  lie  submerged 
in  a  mass  of  inconclusive  matter.  It  may  indeed  well  be  the  case  that 
the  proverb  'Ainz  venge  nies  que  fraire'  found  both  in  Fouques  de 
Candie  and  Aye  d  Avignon,  and  the  comparatively  frequent  use  of  the 
appellation  '  fiz  de  sa  serour '  are  not  without  significance ;  it  is  possibly 
no  mere  coincidence  that  Roland  and  Vivien,  heroes  in  the  two  oldest 
extant  epics,  are  both  sister's  sons,  but  these  few  facts  undoubtedly 
form  a  somewhat  narrow  and  precarious  basis  for  the  construction  of 
a  theory.  If  theory  we  must  have,  however,  if  these  few  facts  are  held 
to  be  so  significant  as  to  demand  an  explanation,  it  will  assuredly  not 
follow  the  lines  suggested  by  Dr  Farnsworth.  The  survival  of  '  nephew 
right,'  if  it  is  proved  for  the  chansons  de  geste,  will  be  found  to  owe  its 
existence  in  them  to  no  mere  literary  tradition ;  there  can  be  no 
question  of  obscure  heritage  of  past  ages,  much  less  of  actual  filiation 
between  the  French  and  Germanic  epic  or  legend.  The  chansons  de 
geste  are  indubitably  the  product  of  the  age  that  created  them,  i  e.  of 
the  eleventh  (tenth  ?)  centuries  on  Professor  Bedier's  showing.  They 
reflect  the  social  organisation,  the  customs  and  sentiments  of  their  own 
age :  '  Germanic '  they  may  appear  to  us  now,  but  that  is  only  because 
the  society  they  depict  was  still  strongly  Germanised.  If  after  more 
critical  investigation  Dr  Farnsworth's  main  thesis  is  substantiated,  and 
the  survival  of  nephew  right  is  found  to  be  duly  attested  in  the  French 
epic  either  as  custom  or  sentiment,  it  is  safe  to  predict  that  like  kin 
solidarity1  and  other  Germanic  features,  it  will  be  found  existing  in  the 
same  form  in  the  social  organisation  or  social  conscience  of  the  age. 

MILDRED  K.  POPE. 

OXFORD. 

1  Of.  on  the  survival  of  kin  solidarity  in  Northern  France,  Kindred  aivl  Clan  in  the 
Middle  Ayes  and  after,  by  Bertha  Surtees  Phillpotts.  Cambridge.  1913. 


280  Reviews 


Castelvetro's  Theory  of  Poetry.  By  H.  B.  CHARLTON.  (Publications 
of  the  University  of  Manchester.  Comparative  Literature  Series,  i.) 
Manchester :  University  Press.  1913.  8vo.  xv  +  221  pp. 

Students  of  European  criticism  have  cause  to  be  grateful  to 
Mr  H.  B.  Charlton  for  his  careful  study  of  Castelvetro's  translation 
and  commentary  on  Aristotle's  Poetics,  and  they  will  look  forward 
eagerly  to  his  promised  edition — we  trust,  however,  that  Mr  Charlton 
has  not  underestimated  the  magnitude  of  the  task,  not  to  speak  of  the 
difficulty  of  finding  a  publisher — of  that  most  original  and  advanced 
interpretation  of  the  sixteenth  century.  With  the  exception  of  two  or 
three  modern  reprints — minus  the  commentary — of  Castelvetro's  trans- 
lation of  the  Poetics  there  are  only  two  editions  available,  the  Viennese 
one  of  1570  and  the  considerably  altered  Basel  edition  of  1576  ;  it  is  on 
the  second  of  these  that  Mr  Charlton  has  based  his  study.  We  have  had 
occasion  to  test  Mr  Charlton's  analysis  of  Castelvetro's  commentary,  and 
can  commend  its  general  clearness  and  accuracy ;  his  book  contains  a 
well-considered  statement  of  Castelvetro's  position  in  the  critical  move- 
ment of  the  time.  But  his  last  chapter  would  have  gained  in  value, 
had  he  wandered  less  far  afield  in  the  search  for  literary  illustrations. 
To  establish  Castelvetro's  position  in  the  history  of  criticism  demands, 
in  the  first  instance,  a  careful  study  of  the  critical  theories  of  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries ;  but  it  does  not  need  a  range 
of  comparison  extending  to  Lessing  and  Hegel  and  even  to  still  more 
recent  critics;  and  Mr  Charlton  would  have  done  well  to  resist  the 
journalistic  tendency  of  drawing  into  his  illustrations  English  books  of 
our  own  day.  One  is  tempted  to  ask  what  have  Mr  Hardy's  Tess  of  the 
D'  Urbervilles  or  Synge's  Riders  to  the  Sea  to  do  in  this  galere  ? 

A  more  serious  criticism  might  be  brought  against  the  present  book 
on  the  ground,  not  of  giving  us  too  much,  but  of  not  giving  us  enough. 
The  introductory  chapter  on  Castelvetro's  life  is  extremely  meagre  and 
might  have  been  amplified  and  vitalised.  He  has  not  made  all  the  use 
of  Muratori's  life  of  Castelvetro  which  he  ought  to  have  made — even  in 
respect  of  Castelvetro's  Aristotelian  studies;  and  he  might  have  con- 
sulted with  advantage,  not  merely  Cavazzuti's  book,  which  he  mentions 
as  not  having  seen — it  is  a  good  dealmore  than  a  'brief  statement '- 
but  also  Tiraboschi's  Biblioteca  modenese,  and  Saiidonnini's  Castelvetro 
e  la  sue  famiglia  (Bologna,  1882).  Castelvetro  was  an  interesting  and 
even  fascinating  personality,  whose  biography  was  well  worth  writing ; 
a  stormy  soul  whose  hand  was  against  every  one,  a  man  with  an  inde- 
fatigable power  of  making  enemies,  and  a  bold  thinker  whose  heresies 
were  not  limited  to  Aristotle,  but  went  as  far  as  sympathy  with  the 
Protestant  Reformation — Saudonnini  has  an  interesting  chapter  on  this 
point — a  crime  which  led  to  his  excommunication  and  flight  from  Italy 
under  dramatic  circumstances. 

Then,  again,  there  is  a  wide  field  which  Mr  Charlton  has  left 
uninvestigated ;  but  a  field  he  cannot  afford  to  overlook  when  he  comes 
to  edit  the  Poetica  d'  Aristotile  itself,  and  that  is  the  source  of 


Revieivs  281 

Castelvetro's  ideas.  Mr  Charlton  draws  Scaliger  into  his  consideration, 
and  gives  us  a  comparison  of  Castelvetro's  standpoint  with  that  of 
Minturno ;  but  this  is  not  enough,  for  Castelvetro  was  in  close  touch 
with  all  the  Greek  erudition  of  his  time;  and  he  stood  in  personal 
relations  to  Robortelli  and  Vettori.  Obviously,  an  adequate  account  of 
Castelvetro's  position  as  an  Aristotelian  interpreter  cannot  afford  to 
disregard  his  relations  and  indebtedness  to  these  as  well  as  to  other 
predecessors ;  to  Robortelli  especially,  it  seems  to  us,  he  was  indebted 
for  some  of  his  principal  ideas.  Of  German  studies  Mr  Charlton  would 
find  it  useful  to  consult,  besides  Otto's  edition  of  Mairet's  Silvanire, 
which  he  knows,  J.  Ebner's  Beitrag  zu  einer  Geschichte  der  dramatischen 
Einheiten  in  Italien  (Erlangen,  1898). 

Another  point  which  would  help  materially  to  establish  Castelvetro's 
position  in  the  history  of  criticism  is  the  subsequent  history  of  his  ideas 
and  influence.  A  chapter  might  have  been  devoted  to  the.,  reception 
of  his  ideas  by  his  immediate  successors,  Buonamici,  Piccolornini, 
Paolo  Beni ;  to  the  attitude  of  the  French  critics  from  Mesnardiere  to 
Dacier  to  Castelvetro,  and  to  his  influence  on  Louis  Racine  and 
Marmontel,  through  whom  he  became  a  force  in  French,  and  through 
French,  in  European  criticism  of  Aristotle  in  the  eighteenth  century. 

We  trust  that  this  study  will  only  be  the  beginning  to  more  such 
monographs  on  Aristotelian  interpretation  since  the  Renaissance  ;  for  it 
cannot  be  sufficiently  emphasised  that  what  matters  for  the  history  of 
criticism  and  for  the  moulding  of  critical  ideas  is  not  what  Aristotle 
really  said  and  meant,  but  what  successive  generations  of  critics  believed 
he  said  and  meant. 

J.  G.  ROBERTSON. 

LONDOX. 

A  Welsh  Grammar  Historical  and  Descriptive.  By  J.  MORRIS  JONES. 
Phonology  and  Accidence.  Oxford :  Clarendon  Press.  1913. 
xxvii  4-  477  pp. 

The  author  of  this  long  expected  and  ambitious  work  has  for  many 
years  exercised  a  kind  of  literary  dictatorship  in  Wales  and  it  would 
seem  that  he  aspires  to  a  similar  position  as  a  grammarian.  The  appear- 
ance of  his  grammar  was  hailed  by  his  countrymen  as  an  event  of 
national  importance  and  a  dinner  was  held  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Cymmrodorion  Society  in  London  last  summer  to  celebrate  the  occasion. 
Such  celebrations,  whether  in  connection  with  Celtic  studies  or  other 
things,  are  little  to  the  taste  of  the  critical  observer,  and  this  work  is 
bound  to  call  forth  severe  criticism  in  competent  quarters,  though  it  will 
be  readily  admitted  that  the  Bangor  professor  has  greatly  increased  in 
knowledge  and  breadth  of  outlook  since  the  publication  of  The  Welsh 
People.  As  a  detailed  notice  would  be  out  of  place  in  the  pages  of  this 
Review,  these  remarks  will  be  confined  to  the  more  general  aspects  of 
the  work.  The  purely  descriptive  portion  of  the  grammar  will  be  warmly 
welcomed  by  all  interested  in  the  language  of  Wales,  and  it  is  a  matter 
of  regret  to  many  that  the  author  has  not  limited  the  book  to  this.  He 


282  Reviews 

gives  us  here  the  results  of  his  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  language 
of  Welsh  poetry,  and  these  are  of  the  utmost  importance.  Possibly  he 
may  be  induced  to  republish  this  part  of  the  work  in  a  separate  form.  As 
it  is,  the  book  is  seriously  overweighted  with  philological  matter.  The 
works  of  Thurneysen  and  Pedersen  have  been  extensively  drawn  upon, 
and  the  author  has  evidently  studied  carefully  the  writings  of  Hermann 
Hirt.  The  history  of  the  Celtic  languages  is  full  of  obscurities,  and  the 
proper  place  for  full  discussion  is  a  comparative  grammar  of  the  whole 
group.  Prof.  Morris  Jones  is  inclined  to  treat  all  such  knotty  points  in 
too  great  detail  and  frequently  forgets  that  Welsh  is  not  the  only 
representative  of  Celtic  with  which  we  are  familiar.  Moreover,  apart 
from  obvious  mistakes  which  are  being  pointed  out  by  others,  these 
excursions  into  philology  often  produce  a  bewildering  effect.  In 
moderation  and  self-criticism  the  work  compares  unfavourably  with 
Pedersen's  Vergleichende  Grammatik.  I  should  like  in  conclusion  to 
express  the  hope  once  again  that  the  descriptive  portion  may  be  issued 
in  a  separate  and  possibly  extended  form. 

E.  C.  QUIGGIN. 
CAMBRIDGE. 


MINOR   NOTICES. 

A  useful  addition  to  the  '  Englische  Textbibliothek  '  published 
by  Dr  Hoops  is  an  edition  by  Professor  Klaeber  of  The  Later  Genesis 
with  other  Old  English  and  Old  Saxon  texts  relating  to  the  Fall 
of  Man,  for  the  use  of  students  (Heidelberg,  WTinter,  1913).  The 
bibliography,  notes,  etc.,  are  in  English.  Considering  the  close 
connexion  of  the  Old  Saxon  with  the  Old  English  versions  of  the  story, 
it  is  an  advantage  with  a  view  to  teaching  to  have  them  thus  given 
side  by  side,  and  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  the  editor  has  done 
his  work  admirably.  The  English  texts,  besides  those  of  the  Genesis, 
include  short  extracts  from  Guthlac,  Phoenix,  Christ  and  Juliana ; 
the  Old  Saxon  are  Fragment  I  of  the  O.S.  Genesis  arid  two  passages 
from  the  Heliand.  The  bibliographical  information  is  full  and  very 
valuable  ;  but  for  the  use  of  students  it  would  have  been  desirable  that 
an  introduction  should  have  been  prefixed,  giving  all  necessary  informa- 
tion about  the  nature,  origin  and  mutual  relations  of  the  texts  dealt 
with.  To  those  especially  who  do  not  read  German  the  bibliography 
will  not  be  very  useful.  But  perhaps  Dr  Klaeber  finds  that  when 
he  refers  his  pupils  in  the  University  of  Minnesota  to  Heinze,  Zur 
ae.  Genesis,  or  Sievers,  A  Itgermanische  Metrik,  they  obtain  these  books 
and  read  them.  If  so,  they  differ  from  students  in  this  country. 
The  notes,  admirable  in  most  respects,  are  from  the  point  of  view  of 
students  less  practically  useful  than  they  might  be,  because  of  the 
superabundance  of  references  to  authorities.  For  example,  on  the 
etymology  of  neorxnawang  the  editor  refers  to  no  less  than  thirteen 
authorities,  but  himself  expresses  no  opinion. 


Minor  Notices 


283 


w 


The  Londoner,  familiar  with  the  every-day  aspects  of  the  town  in 
hich  he  does  his  business  or  pursues  his  pleasure,  is  apt  at  times  to 
overlook  its  historical  and  literary  associations,  and  it  is  quite  proper 
that  he  should  be  occasionally  reminded  of  them  by  the  intelligent 
American  visitor  from  Chicago.  Mr  Percy  H.  Boynton,  in  his  book 
entitled  London  in  English  Literature  (University  of  Chicago,  1913), 
has  distinctly  filled  a  void.  He  does  not  profess  to  give  us  any  very 
original  results.  '  Nothing,'  as  he  says,  '  is  included  in  the  volume 
which  cannot  be  easily  traced  by  reference  to  standard  works  on* 
London  and  obvious  sources  in  literature.'  His  object  is  'to  give  an 
idea  of  London  atmosphere  in  the  various  literary  periods,  to  expound 
the  chief  places  of  interest  for  successive  generations,  and  to  make  a 
reasonably  generous  selection  from  old  and  new  engraving  and  photo- 
graphs.' In  pursuit  of  this  object  he  has  produced  a  very  useful  and 
readable  volume,  and  the  reproductions  of  engravings  form-  a  particu- 
larly interesting  feature  of  it.  The  maps  are  Braun  and  Hogenberg's 
Map  of  London  in  1572,  Hollar's  plan  showing  the  effects  of  the 
Great  Fire,  Evelyn's  design  for  re-building  the  City  after  the  Fire, 
and  the  London  Magazine  Map  of  London  in  1761.  Then  there 
are  views  of  London  Bridge  and  St  Paul's  reproduced  from  Hollar's 
engraving,  1647,  and  pictures  of  many  memorable  scenes  and  buildings, 
Sir  Paul  Pindar's  house  in  Bishopsgate  Street,  the  old  Fountain  Inn 
in  the  Minories,  a  sermon  at  St  Paul's  Cross  in  1620,  the  executions 
of  Stratford  and  of  Charles  I,  the  banquet  at  the  coronation  of 
James  II,  an  execution  at  Tyburn  (after  Hogarth),  interiors  of 
Coffee-houses,  Vauxhall  and  Ranelagh  Gardens,  Dr  Johnson's  quarters 
in  the  Temple,  the  Little  Sanctuary  in  1808,  and  so  on  through  the 
Regency  to  Victorian  days,  to  Dickens,  Thackeray  and  Besant.  The 
only  faults  we  have  to  find  are,  first,  that  the  illustrations  are  not 
brought  closely  enough  into  connexion  with  the  text,  which  seems 
indeed  to  have  little  or  no  consciousness  of  them,  and  secondly,  that 
though  the  views  and  plans  look  well  at  the  first  glance,  the  process 
by  which  they  are  produced  does  not  stand  the  test  of  minute 
examination. 

In  the  Oxford  Edition  of  Standard  Authors  we  have  now  Poems 
and  Translations  (1850- — 1870)  by  Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti  (London, 
H.  Milford,  1913).  This  edition  is  of  course  limited  by  the  conditions 
of  existing  copyright.  It  consists  in  the  first  place  of  a  reprint  of  the 
1870  edition  of  Poems,  in  which,  it  should  be  noted,  we  have  the 
'  Sonnets  and  Songs  towards  a  work  to  be  called  "  The  House  of  Life,"  ' 
and  not  the  completed  'House  of  Life'  itself,  which  appeared  in  1881. 
To  these  are  added  four  poems  and  the  prose  story  '  Hand  and  Soul/ 
from  The  Germ,  and  The  Early  Italian  Poets  in  the  form  in  which  that 
book  appeared  in  1861,  that  is  with  the  '  Poets  chiefly  before  Dante '  as 
the  first  part  and  '  Dante  and  his  Circle '  as  the  second.  It  is  interest- 
ing to  get  reprints  of  these  earlier  editions,  as  it  were  by  the  operation 
of  natural  causes,  and  of  course  the  dates  given  are  sufficient  to  remind 


284 '  Minor  Notices 

the  public  of  the  difference  between  this  and  a  complete  collection  of 
Rossetti's  work.  Apart  from  '  The  House  of  Life '  the  most  important 
additions  to  the  poems  made  later  than  1870  are  '  Rose  Mary/  '  The 
White  Ship'  and  'The  King's  Tragedy,'  published  in  1881.  The 
volume  which  the  Oxford  University  Press  gives  us  is,  like  the  others 
of  the  series,  excellently  printed  and  very  cheap.  The  reprint  of  The 
Early  Italian  Poets,  which  includes  Rossetti's  translation  of  the  Vita 

Nuova,  is  especially  to  be  welcomed. 

« 

Messrs  Macmillan  have  sent  us  Miss  Laura  Soames'  Introduction 
to  English,  French  and  German  Phonetics  and  The  Teachers  Manual, 
Parts  I  and  II,  edited  by  Wilhelm  Vietor.  As  the  editor  says  in  the 
Preface  to  the  first  of  these  volumes,  '  the  most  striking  innovation  will 
be  seen  in  the  adoption  of  the  international  alphabet  of  the  Association 
Phonetique.'  That  this  is  an  improvement  may  be  doubted  ;  indeed, 
many  will  regret  that  this  step  should  have  been  taken  at  all.  The 
original  text  remains  practically  unaltered,  new  matter  being  relegated 
to  the  foot-notes  supplied  by  Professor  Vietor  and  his  equally  competent 
collaborators.  The  Introduction,  which,  in  spite  of  its  modest  title, 
is  the  most  ambitious  of  the  three  books,  should  strongly  recommend 
itself  to  all  who  wish  to  make  a  serious  study  of  general  phonetics 
with  a  view  to  acquiring  and  teaching  the  principal  modern  languages. 
Miss  Soames'  style  is  delightfully  simple,  lucid  and  pleasant  to  read. 
Her  treatment  of  this  highly  technical  subject  is  full  of  charm,  and 
will  appeal  even  to  those  who  look  upon  phonetics  as  a  dull  and 
mechanical  pursuit.  The  two  parts  of  the  Manual  deal  with  English 
sounds,  and  the  Phonetic  Method  of  teaching  children  to  read. 

H.   M. 

M.  Chinard  in  his  L'Amerique  et  le  reve  exotique  dans  la  litterature 
franpaise  au  XVII*  et  au  XVIIIe  siecle  (Paris,  Hachette  et  Cie, 
1913)  successfully  continues  the  quest  which  he  began  two  years  ago1. 
As  in  his  earlier  volume  the  works  that  he  notices  fall  into  two 
categories,  accounts  of  the  New  World,  and  writings  which  show 
their  influence.  Of  the  former  class  the  most  remarkable  from  a  literary 
point  of  view  are  those  of  Lescarbot  (Histoire  de  la  Nouvelle  France 
1609),  Jean  Mocquet  (1616),  le  Pere  Du  Tertre  (1654  and  1667), 
Lahontan  (1703),  the  Jesuit  fathers  Lafitau  (1724)  and  Charlevoix 
(1730,  1744,  1756),  and  Bougainville,  whose  Voyage  autour  du  monde 
(1771)  inspired  his  friend  Diderot's  characteristic  Supplement  au 
Voyage  de  Bougainville.  It  is  with  Lahontan's  writings,  especially 
with  his  Dialogues  avec  un  sauvage,  that  the  idea  of  the  superiority 
of  savage  life  to  civilisation  definitely  entered  French  literature  and 
profoundly  affected  French  thought.  Rousseau's  debt  to  these 
Dialogues  and  to  the  writings  of  the  Jesuit  fathers,  who  equally  with 
the  cynical  Lahontan  found  much  to  admire  in  the  Indian  savages,  is 
traced  by  M.  Chinard  in  a  chapter  of  much  piquancy.  On  the  whole, 

1  See  Modern  Language  Eevieiv  vn,  536  ff . 


Minor  Notices 


285 


readers  will  find  plenty  of  entertaining  matter  in  this  excellent  volume, 
which  is  at  the  same  time  a  valuable  contribution  to  the  study  of 
eighteenth  century  thought.  The  only  thing  that  it  lacks  is  an  index. 

A.  T. 

Professor  Lancaster  has  followed  up  his  dissertation  on  French 
Tragi-comedy  (1907)  by  another  contribution  to  the  history  of  the 
French  classical  drama,  entitled  Pierre  Da  Ryer  (Washington,  1913), 
which  shows  the  same  thorough  and  careful  work  as  its  predecessor. 
Du  Ryer  (circ.  1600 — 1658)  was  an  exceedingly  industrious  man  of 
letters,  who  led  a  life  of  honourable  poverty.  As  a  dramatist  he  is 
well  worth  study,  partly  for  himself,  but  chiefly  for  the  light  that  he 
throws  on  his  great  contemporary,  Corneille,  and  on  the  early  beginnings 
of  the  classical  drama.  He  wrote  in  all  nineteen  plays,  of  which  six  were 
tragedies,  one  a  comedy,  one  a  pastoral,  and  the  rest  tragi-comedies,  and 
it  is  interesting  to  notice  how  in  the  matter  of  tragedies" and  tragi- 
comedies he  closely  followed  the  prevailing  fashion.  One  important 
point  Prof.  Lancaster  has  not  been  able  definitely  to  decide,  and  that 
is  the  exact  date  of  the  production  of  Du  Ryer's  first  tragedy  Lucrece, 
in  which  all  the  unities  are  preserved,  though  as  in  the  Cid  two  rooms 
of  the  same  house  are  used.  The  play  was  printed  in  July,  1638,  and 
according  to  Prof.  Lancaster  was  probably  first  acted  in  1636.  If  so  it 
was  prior  to  the  Cid,  which  was  produced  at  the  earliest  in  December, 
1636.  Du  Ryer's  masterpiece,  Scevole,  according  to  Prof.  Lancaster, 
was  first  played  'about  1644,'  but  the  Illustre  Theatre  of  Moliere 
and  the  Bejarts  certainly  bought  it  before  September  of  that  year,  and 
probably  played  it  soon  afterwards.  As  regards  Du  Ryer's  one  comedy, 
Les  Vendanges  du  Suresne  (circ.  1633),  one  would  like  to  have  seen 
the  question  considered  whether  Moliere  owed  anything  to  it. 

A.  T. 


THE  ASSOCIATION  PHONETIQUE  INTERNATIONALE. 

In  his  interesting  review  of  Michaelis  and  Jones'  Phonetic  Dic- 
tionary (Mod.  Lang.  Review,  Vol.  ix,  pp.  107 — 109)  Professor  Wyld  has 
a  fling  at  the  Association  Phonetique  Internationale.  I  make  no  doubt 
that  most  of  the  members  of  that  '  important  Association '  are  able  to 
understand  a  joke.  But  in  this  case  the  joke  was  put  in  such  terms 
that  an  unsophisticated  reader  might  take  it  seriously.  Besides,  Pro- 
fessor Wyld  reiterates  certain  charges  made  against  the  Association  by 
my  friend  and  colleague  Schroer,  e.g.,  in  an  article  printed  in  the 
Gemnanisch-romanische  Monatsschrift  for  1913,  Vol.  V,  pp.  413,  414, 
which  were  refuted  by  me  in  a  subsequent  number  of  that  periodical 
(Vol.  V,  pp.  489,  490).  As  my  rejoinder  had  evidently  not  come  to 
Professor  Wyld's  knowledge  when  he  wrote  his  review,  and  has  probably 
escaped  many  other  readers  of  the  Modern  Language  Review,  I  take  the 
liberty  of  repeating  that  the  asterisk  (or  dagger)  has  never  been  used 


286  Minor  Notices 

by  the  Association  as  a  means  of  recommending,  but  simply  of  indi- 
cating books  in  which  the  alphabet  of  the  Association  is  employed.  As 
regards  the  supposed  boycotting  or  ignoring  of  everything  that  does  not 
comply  with  the  alphabet  of  the  Association,  we  naturally  wish  to  see 
that  alphabet  adopted  in  class-books  as  well  as  in  phonetic  works  of  a 
scientific  character ;  for  we  are  aware  that  nothing  stands  more  in  the 
way  of  the  general  spread  of  phonetics  than  the  multifariousness  of 
phonetic  transcription,  and  that  the  alphabet  of  the  Association  is 
in  fact  '  the  most  widely  used '  of  all  the  existing  phonetic  scripts.  If, 
however,  Professor  Schroer  has  been  told  that  we  intend  to  make  books 
employing  different  systems  fall  dead  from  the  press  or  to  keep  them 
away  from  the  class-room,  his  '  mysterious  yet  eminent '  informant 
cannot  have  been  in  earnest.  Surely  it  would  not  be  possible  for 
members  of  the  Association  to  engage  in  a  plot  without  the  leaders  of 
the  Association  having  any  knowledge  of  it !  I  am  prepared  to  say 
that  we  as  a  body  agree  with  Schroer  in  thinking  that  whatever  is 
valuable  in  itself  ought  to  be  turned  to  account,  even  if  that  is  made 
difficult  or  inconvenient  by  the  author.  I,  for  one,  heartily  recommend, 
e.g.,  Schroer's  excellent  Englisches  Aussprachworterbiich  to  all  persons 
interested  in  English  phonetics,  although  it  unfortunately  does  not 
employ  the  alphabet  of  the  Association  Phonetique  Internationale. 

W.    VlETOR. 

MARBURG  A.  D.  L. 

We  regret  to  have  to  announce  that  Dr  Oelsner  has  resigned  the 
editorship  of  the  Romance  section  of  the  Review.  From  the  July 
number  on,  Professor  James  Fitzmaurice-Kelly  has  undertaken  to  be 
responsible  for  that  section,  and  correspondence  relating  to  Romance 
matters  should  be  addressed  to  him  at  The  Old  Hall,  Aigburth, 
Liverpool. 


NEW   PUBLICATIONS. 
December  1913 — February  1914. 

GENERAL. 

BOSSERT,  A.,  Essais  de  litterature  frangaise  et  allemande.     Paris,  Hachette. 

3  fr.  50. 

DILTHEY,  W.,  Gesammelte  Schriften.  n.  Band.  Leipzig,  B.  G.  Teubner.  12  M. 
GADTHIOT,  R.,  La  fin  de  mot  en  indo-europeen.  Paris,  P.  Geuthner.  12  fr.  50. 
GREEN,  A.,  The  Dative  of  Agency.  A  chapter  on  Indo-European  Qase-Syntax. 

(Columbia  University  Germanic  Studies.)     New  York,  Columbia  Univ. 

Press;  London,  H.  Milford.     4s.  6d.  net. 

JEWETT,  S.,  Folk-ballads  of  Southern  Europe.  Transl.  into  English  verse. 
London,  Putnam.  6s.  net. 

LA  GRASSERIE,  R.  DE.  Etudes  de  grammaire  coniparee.  Du  verbe  com  me 
generateur  des  autres  parties  du  discours.  Paris,  Maisonneuve.  20  fr. 

ROUJAT,  J.,  Le  developpement  du  langage  observe  chez  im  enfant  bilingue. 
Paris,  E.  Champion.  4  fr. 

SCHOEPPERLE,  G.,  Tristan  and  Isolde :  a  study  of  the  sources  of  the  romance. 
2  vols.  London,  Nutt.  20s.  net. 

TAYLOR,  H.  0.  The  Mediaeval  Mind :  a  history  of  the  development  of  thought 
and  emotion  in  the  Middle  Ages.  2  vols.  2nd  ed.  London,  Macmillan. 
21s.  net. 

WEEKLEY,  E.,  The  romance  of  names.     London,  Murray.     3s.  Qd.  net. 

WYPLEL,  L.,  Wirklichkeit  und  Sprache.  Eine  neue  Art  der  Sprachbetrachtung. 
Vienna,  F.  Deuticke.  5  Kr. 

ROMANCE   LANGUAGES. 
General. 

Bibliotheca  romanica.  194-197.  G.  Leopardi,  Opere.  Operette  morali. 
198-200.  P.  de  Ronsard,  Oeuvres.  Odes.  3e  et  4e  livre.  201,  202.  Scribe 
et  Legouve,  Oeuvres.  Les  doigts  de  fee.  203,  204.  P.  de  Ronsard, 
Oeuvres.  Odes.  5e  livre.  Strassburg,  J.  H.  E.  Heitz.  Each  no.  40  pf. 

Jahresbericht,  Kritischer,  iiber  die  Fortschritte  der  romanischen  Philologie, 
herausg.  von  K.  Vollmoller.  xiu.  Bd.,  1.  Heft.  Erlangeu,  Junge.  7  M.  70. 

PAETZ,  H.,  Uber  das  gegenseitige  Verhaltnis  der  venetianischen,  der  franko- 
italienischen  und  der  franzosischen  gereimten  Fassungen  des  Bueve  de 
Hautone.  (Zeitschrift  fur  roman.  Phil.,  Beihefte,  L.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer. 

4  M. 

Italian. 

ARIOSTO,  L.,  Orlando  Furioso  secondo  le  stampe  del  1516,  1521,  1532.  Ripro- 
duzione  letterale  a  cura  di  F.  Ermini.  Vol.  in.  Rome,  E.  Loescher.  45  L. 

BATTISTI,  C.,  Testi  dialettali  italiani.  In  trascrizione  fonetica  pubblicati. 
Parte  i.  Italia  settentrionale.  (Zeitschrift  fiir  romanische  Philologie. 
Beihefte,  XLIX.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  9  M. 


288  New  Publications 

BELCARI,  F.,  Vita  del  beato  Giovanni  Colombini  da  Siena,  a  cura  di  R.  Chiarini. 
(Collezione  Scrittori  nostri. }  Lanciano,  R.  Carabba.  1  L 

BETTINELLI,  S.,  Le  '  Lettere  Virgiliane '  con  introduzione  e  a  cura  di  P.  Tom- 
masini-Mattiucci.  (Collezione  di  opuscoli  danteschi,  cxxm,  cxxiv.)  Cittfl 
di  Castello,  S.  Lapi.  1  L.  60. 

CAPETTI,  V.,  Illustrazioni  al  poema  di  Dante.  (Collezione  dantesca,  iv.)  Citta 
di  Castello,  S.  Lapi.  3  L. 

CARDUCCI,  G.,  Lettere.     Vol.  u.     A  cura  di  A.  Dallolio.     Bologna,  Zanichelli. 

5  L. 
COTAGNO,  R.,  La  sorte  di  Giovan  Battista  Vico  e  le  polemiche  scientifiche  e 

letterarie  clalla  fine  del  xvu  alia  meta  del  xvui  secold.     Bari,  G.  Laterza. 

4  L. 
DE  SANCTIS,  F.,  Saggi  critici.     Prima  edizione  milanese  a  cura  di  P.  Arcari. 

Vol.  i.     Milan,  Treves.     2  L. 
Florilegio  di  canti  Toscani:    Folk  songs  of  the  Tuscan   hills,  with   English 

renderings  by  G.  Warrack.     London,  De  la  More  Press.     10s.  6d.  net. 

GILARDI,  P.,  Un  riflesso  dell'  anima  di  S.  Agostino  in  Boezio,  Dante  e  Petrarca. 
Pavia,  Mattei.  2  L.  50. 

LOMMATZSCH,  E.,  Ein  italienisches  Novelienbuch  des  Quattrocento  G.  Sabadino 
degli  Arienti's  '  Porrettane.'  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  1  M.  60. 

MINIXNI,  C.  G.,  P.  N.  Signorelli  :  vita,  opere,  tempi,  amici,  con  lettere, 
documenti  ed  altri  scritti  inediti.  Citta  di  Castello,  Lapi.  5  L. 

NIEVO,  I.,  I  Capuani:  tragedia,  a  cura  di  V.  Errante.  (Collezione  Scrittori 
nostri.)  Lanciano,  R.  Carabba.  1  L. 

OZANAM,  F.,  The  Franciscan  poets  in  Italy  of  the  13th  Century.  London, 
Nutt.  6s.  net. 

PASSY,  L.,  Un  ami  de  Machiavel,  Frangois  Vettori  (1474—1539).  2  vols.  Paris, 
Plon-Nourrit.  15  fr. 

PULCI,  L.,  e  altri,  Poemetti  contadineschi,  a  cura  di  M.  Bontempelli.  (Collezione 
Scrittori  nostri.)  Lanciano,  R.  Carabba  1  L. 

RIZZUTI,  A.,  Educatori  e  poeti :  ricordi  letterari.  Rome,  Bibl.  di  Vita  e 
Coltura.  3  L. 

SAVONAROLA,  G.,  Poesie,  precedute  da  notizie  storiche  di  C.  Guasti  e  T.  Del 
Lungo.  (Collezione  Scrittori  nostri.)  Lanciano,  R.  Carabba.  1  L. 

SERBAN,  N.,  Leopardi  sentimental,  essai  de  psychologic  leopardienne  suivi  du 
journal  d'amour.  Paris,  E.  Champion.  3  fr.  50. 

TASSONI,  A.,  La  secchia  rapita,  secondo  1'  edizione  veneta  del  1630,  a  cura  di 
G.  Nascimbeni.  (Collezione  Scrittori  nostri.)  Lanciano,  R.  Carabba.  1  L. 

TONELLI,  L.,  La  critica  letteraria  italiana  negli  ultimi  cinquant'  anni.  (Biblioteca 
di  cultura  moderna,  LXX.)  Bari,  G.  Laterza.  5  L. 

TONELLI,  L.,  La  tragedia  di  Gabriele  D'  Annunzio.     Palermo,  Sandron.     3  L. 

Spanish. 

ALEMAN,  M.,  Primera  parte  de  Guzman  de  Alfarache.  Edicion  transcrita  y 
revisada  por  J.  Cejador  y  Frauca.  Madrid,  Imp.  Renacimento.  2  pes.  50. 

CERVANTES  SAAVEDRA,  M.  DE,  Don  Quijote  de  la  Mancha,  transl.  by  Robinson 
Smith.  London,  G.  Routledge.  7s.  6d.  net. 

FITZMAURICE-KELLY,   J.,  The  Oxford  Book  of   Spanish  verse,     xinth— xxth 
,  .  Century.     Oxford,  Clarendon  Press.     Is.  net. 

GRACIAN,  L.,  El  Criticon.  Tomo  I.  Edici6n  y  prologo  de  J.  Cejador  y  Frauca. 
Madrid,  Imp.  Renacimento.  2  pes.  50. 


New  Publications  289 

HANSSEN,  F.,  Grarnatica  historica  de  la  lengua  castellana.  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer. 
9M. 

MEN^NDEZ  Y  PELAYO,  M.,  Historia  de  la  poesfa  hispano-americana.  Tomo  n. 
(Obras  completas,  in.)  Madrid,  Fortanet.  12  pes. 

MERIMEE,  H.,  L'art  draraatique  a  Valencia  depuis  les  origines  jusqu'au  com- 
mencement du  xvne  siecle.  Toulouse,  Privat.  15  fr. 

MERIMEE,  H.,  Spectacles  et  Comediens  a  Valencia  (1580—1630).  Toulouse, 
Privat.  5  fr. 

ROJAS,  F.  DE,  La  Celestina,  n.  (Clasicos  Castellanos,  xxin.)  Madrid,  '  La 
Lectura.' 

SCHEVILL,  R.,  Ovid  and  the  Renascence  in  Spain.  Berkeley,  Univ.  of  California 
Press.  2  dol.  50. 

Portuguese. 

BELL,  A.  F.  G.,  Poems  from  the  Portuguese.  With  the  Portuguese  Text. 
Oxford,  B.  H.  Blackwell.  3.?.  6d.  net. 

BELL,  A.  F.  G.,  Studies  in  Portuguese  literature.  Oxford,  B.  EtT  Blackwell. 
6s.  net. 

Provei^al. 

BERTRAM  VON  BORN.  Herausg.  von  A.  Stimmig.  2.  Aufl.  (Romanische 
Bibliothek,  vm.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  4  M.  60. 

PISTOLETA,  Der  Trobador.  Herausg.  von  E.  Niestroy ;  Magret,  Der  Trobador 
Guillem.  Herausg.  von  F.  Naudieth.  (Zeitschrift  fur  roman.  Phil., 
Beihefte,  LIT.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  5  M. 

PORTAL,  E.,  Grammatica  provenzale  (lingua  moderna)  e  dizionarietto  provenzali- 
italiano.  (Manuali  Hoepli.)  Milan,  Hoepli.  1  L.  50. 

VOSSLER,  K.,  Der  Trobador  Marcabru  und  die  Anfange  des  gekiinstelten  Stiles. 
(Sitzungsberichte  der  kgl.  bayerischen  Akad.,  1913,  xi.  Abh.)  Munich, 
G.  Franz.  1  M.  60. 

ZANDERS,  J.,  Die  altprovenzalische  Prosanovelle.  Eine  literarhistorische 
Kritik  der  Trobador-Biographien.  (Romanistische  Arbeiten,  IL)  Halle, 
M.  Niemeyer.  4  M. 

French. 

(a)     General  (incl.  Language}. 

GERHARDS,  J.,  Beitrage  zur  Kenntnis  der  prahistorischen  franzosischen  Synkope 
des  Panultimavokals.  (Zeitschrift  fur  roman.  Phil.,  Beihefte,  LV.)  Halle, 
M.  Niemeyer.  4  M. 

GOHIN,  F.,  La  langue  fran§aise.     Paris,  H.  Didier.     2  fr. 

JURET,  C.,  Glossaire  du  Patois  de  Pierrecourt  (Haute-Saone).  (Zeitschrift  fiir 
roman.  Phil.,  Beihefte,  LI.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  6  M. 

LOSETH,  E.,  Notes  de  syntaxe  fran§aise,  u.  (Videnskapsselskapets  Skrifter,  IL, 
1913,  Nr.  3.)  Kristiania,  J.  Dybwad.  80  6. 

MICHAELIS,  H.,  et  PASSY,  P.,  Dictionnaire  phonetique  de  la  langue  frai^aise. 
2e  edit.  Paris,  Le  Sondier.  7  fr.  50. 

TAPPOLET,  E.,  Die  alernannischen  Lehnworter  in  den  Mundarten  der  franzo- 
sischen Schweiz.  I.  Teil.  Strassburg,  K.  J.  Triibner.  4  M. 

(6)     Old  French. 

Abenteuer,  Die,  Gawains,  Ywains  und  Le  Morholts  mit  den  drei  Jungfrauen  aus 
der  Trilogie  (Demanda)  des  pseudo-Robert  de  Boron.  Die  Fortsetzung  des 
Huth-Merlin.  Herausg.  von  0.  Sommer.  (Zeitschrift  fiir  roman.  Phil., 
Beihefte,  XLVII.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  8  M. 

M.  L.  R.  ix.  19 


290  New  Publications 

BE"ROUL,   Le  roman  de  Tristan,  edit,  par  E.  Muret.     Paris,   E.   Champion. 

3fr. 
LOT-BORODINE,   M.,   Le  roman   idyllique  au   moyen   age.     Paris,   A.    Picard. 

3  fr.  50. 
LDTSCH,  E.,  Die  altfranzosische    Prosaversion   der   Alexiuslegende.     Kritisch 

herausg.     Berlin,  R.  Trenkel.     3  M. 
SCHUWERACK,  J.,  Charakteristik  der  Personen  in  der  altfranzosischen  Chancun 

de  Guilelme.     (Romanistische  Arbeiten,  I.)     Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.     4  M. 
THEODOR,  H.,  Die  komischen  Elernente  der  altfranzosischen  chansons  de  geste. 

(Zeitschrift   fiir  roman.    Phil.,   Beihefte,   XLVIII.)      Halle,   M.    Niemeyer. 

5  M.  60. 

(c)     Modern  French. 

ARNAVON,  J.,  L'interpretation  de  la  comedie  classique.     Le  Misanthrope,  mise 
en  scene,  decors,  representation.     Paris,  Plon-Nourrit.     7  fr.  50. 

BALZAC,  H.  DE,  Oeuvres  completes.      Comedie  humaine.     xiv — xvi.     Paris, 

L.  Conard.     Each  9  fr. 

BARRES,  M.,  L'abdication  du  poete.     Lamartine.     Paris,  Cres.     5  fr. 
CALVET,  Abbe,  Alfred  de  Vigny.     Paris,  G.  Beauchesne.     2  fr.  50. 
CHATEAUBRIAND,  Correspondance  generate.     Tome  iv.     Paris,  E.  Champion. 

10  fr. 
COPPEE,  F.,  Lettres  a  sa  mere  et  a  sa  soeur  (1862—1908).     Introduction  et 

notes  de  J.  Monval.     Paris,  A.  Lemerre.     3  fr.  50. 

CORDIER,  H.,  Bibliographic  Stendhalienne.     Paris,  E.  Champion.     7  fr.  50. 
Du  Bos,  Abbe,  Correspondance.    Introduction  et  notes  par  A.  Lombard.    Paris, 

Hachette.     3  fr. 

FAGUET,  £.,  La  jeunesse  de  Sainte-Beuve.     Paris,  Soc,  fr.  d'impr.  et  de  libr. 

3  fr.  50. 
FIDAO  JUSTINIANI,  J.  E.,  L'esprit  classique  et  la  preciosite  au  xvne  siecle. 

Paris,  A.  Picard.     3  fr.  50. 

FLAUBERT,  G.,  Premieres  ceuvres.     Tome  i.     Paris,  E.  Fasquelle.     3  fr.  50. 
FOULET,  L.,  Correspondance  de  Voltaire,  1726-29.     Paris,  Hachette.     10  fr. 

GIRAUD,  V.,  Les  mattres  de  1'heure,  essais  d'histoire  morale  contemporaine. 
Tome  ii.  Paris,  Hachette.  3  fr.  50. 

JANET,  P.,  Fenelon  :  his  life  and  works.  Transl.  by  V.  Leuliette.  London, 
Pitman.  5s.  net. 

KORDING,  H.,  Chateaubriand  als  Versdichter.  (Romanische  Studien,  xiv.) 
Berlin,  E.  Ebering.  5  M. 

LE  BRETON,  A.,  La  'Comedie  humaine'  de  Saint  Simon.  Paris,  Soc.  fr.  d'impr. 
et  de  libr.  3  fr.  50. 

LEMM,  S.,  Zur  Entstehungsgeschichte  von  E.  Zolas  Rougon-Macquart  und  der 
Quatre  eVangiles.  (Beitrage  zur  Geschichte  der  roman.  Sprachen  und 
Literaturen,  vm.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  2  M.  40. 

LOMBARD,  A.,  L'Abbe  Du  Bos,  un  initiateur  de  la  pensee  moderne.  Paris, 
Hachette.  10  fr. 

MONTESQUIEU,  Lettres  persanes,  edit,  par  H.  Barckhausen.  (Societe  des  textes 
fran9ais  rnodernes.)  2  vols.  Paris,  Hachette.  10  fr. 

PAUPE,  A.,  La  vie  litteVaire  de  Stendhal.     Paris,  E.  Champion.     7  fr.  50. 
PELLISSON,  M.,  Les  comedies-ballets  de  Moliere.     Paris,  Hachette.     3  fr.  50. 


New  Publications  291 

PETERMANN,  B.,  Der  Streit  um  Vers  und  Prosa  in  der  franzosischen  Literatur 
des  18.  Jahrh.  (Beitrage  zur  Gesch.  der  roman.  Sprachen  und  Literaturen, 
ix.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  2  M.  80. 

RIVASSO,  R.  DE,  L'unite  d'une  pensee.  Essai  sur  1'oeuvre  de  P.  Bourget.  Paris, 
Plon-Nourrit.  3  fr.  50. 

ROLLA,  C.,  Lamartine  et  1'Italie  :  essai  litteraire.     Novara,  Santone.     3  L. 

ROUSSEAU,  J.  J.,  Les  Confessions,  suivi  des  Reveries  du  promeneur  solitaire,  ed. 
par  A.  Van  Bever.  3  vols.  Paris,  G.  Ores.  10  fr.  50. 

SEXANCOUR,  E.  DE,  Obermann.  Tome  n.  Edition  critique  publiee  par 
G.  Michaut.  (Soc.  des  textes  fran9ais  modern es.)  Paris,  Hachette.  5  fr. 

THORLEY,  W.,  Paul  Verlaine.  (Modern  biographies.)  London,  Constable. 
Is.  net. 

TOURNOUX,  G.  A.,  Bibliographic  verlainienne,  contribution  critique  a  1'etude  des 
litteratures  etrangeres  et  comparees.  Paris,  G.  Cres.  9  fr.  50. 

VIGNY,  A.  DE,  Journal  d'un  poete ;  Oeuvres  posthumes.  Notes  et  cominentaires 
par  L.  Seche.  Paris,  Renaissance  du  livre.  Each  1  fr.  50. 

VOLTAIRE,  Candide  ou  1'optimisme,  edit,  critique  par  A.  Morize.  (Soc.  des 
textes  frangais  modern  es.)  Paris,  Hachette.  6  fr. 

VOLTAIRE,  Oeuvres  inedites.  Tome  i.  Melanges  historiques.  publ.  par 
F.  Caussy.  Paris,  E.  Champion.  10  fr. 


GERMANIC   LANGUAGES. 

Scandinavian. 

ANDERSEN,  H.  C.,  Fairy  Tales.  Revised  and  in  part  newly  translated.  Oxford 
edition.  London,  H.  Milford.  2s. 

BOOK,  F.,  Essayer  och  Kritiker.     Stockholm,  P.  A.  Norstedt.     3  kr.  75. 
BULL,  F.,  L.  Holberg  som  Historiker.     Kristiania,  H.  Aschehoug.     3  kr.  50. 

CEDERSHIOLD,  W.,  Studier  over  genusvaxlingen  i  fornvastnordiska  och  forn- 
svenska.  (Goteborgs  kungl.  vetenskaps-  och  vitterhetssamhalles  Handlingar, 
xiv,  1.)  Goteborg,  Wettergren  och  Kerber.  3  kr. 

CLAUSSEN,  CH.,  En  digterskjsebne.  A.  Strindberg.  Kristiania,  0.  Norli. 
2  kr.  75. 

EGILSSON,  Sv.,  Lexicon  poeticum  antiquae  linguae  septentrionalis.  Ordbog 
over  det  norsk-islandske  Skjaldesprog.  Foroget  og  paany  udgivet  for  det 
kongelige  nordiske  Oldskriftselskab  ved  F.  Jonsson.  1.  Hsefte.  Copenhagen, 
Gyldendal.  4  kr. 

FINSEN,  N.,  Fra  Bjornsons  sidste  Aar.  Erindringer  fra  Aulestad  og  Paris. 
Copenhagen,  Gyldendal.  5  kr. 

HEUSLER,  A.,  Die  Anfange  der  islandischen  Saga.  (Abh.  der  kgl.  preussischen 
Akademie  der  Wissenschaften,  1913,  No.  9.)  Berlin,  G.  Reimer.  3  M.  50. 

JACOBSEN,  L.,  Nyfundne  Runeiridskrifter  i  Danmark,  undersogt  og  tolkede. 
(Aarboger  for  nordisk  Oldkyndighed  og  Historic.)  Copenhagen,  Gyldendal. 
1  kr.  50. 

KIERKEGAARD,  S.,  Papierer.     v.  Bind.     Copenhagen,  Gyldendal.     9  kr. 

LEOPOLD,  C.  G.  AF,  Samlade  skrifter  utg.  af  Knut  Fredlund,  in.  (Svenska 
Forfattare,  utg.  af  Svenska  vitterhetssamfundet,  n.)  Stockholm,  A. 
Bonnier.  6  kr.  25. 

Orkneyinga  Saga.  Udgivet  for  Samfund  til  Udgivelse  af  gammel  nordisk 
Litteratur  ved  S.  Nordal.  1.  Hsefte,  Copenhagen,  Gyldendal.  4  kr. 


292  New  Publications 

PAULSEN,  J.,  Samliv  med  Ibsen.  2.  Samling.  Copenhagen,  Gyldendal. 
3  kr.  50. 

Kirnnasafn.  Samling  af  de  seldste  islandske  Rimer.  Udgivet  for  Samfund  til 
Udgivelse  af  gammel  nordisk  Litteratur  ved  F.  J6nsson.  7.  Haefte. 
Copenhagen,  Gyldendal.  4  kr. 

SCHUCK,  H.  och  WARBURG,  K.,  Illustrerad  svensk  litteraturhistoria.  2.  uppl. 
in.  Stockholm,  H.  Geber.  14  kr. 

SNOILSKY,  C.,  Samlade  dikter.  Nationaluppl.  n. — v.  Bind.  Stockholm, 
H.  Geber.  Each  1  kr.  75. 

STAGNELIUS,  E.  J.,  Samlade  skrifter.  Utg.  af  F.  Book.  n.  (Svenska  Forfattare, 
utg.  af  Svenska  vitterhetssamfundet,  HI.)  Stockholm,  A.  Bonnier.  5  kr.  50. 

STRINDBERG,  A.,  Samlade  skrifter.  xvm. — xx.  Bind.  Stockholm,  A.  Bonnier. 
3  kr.  25 ;  2  kr.  25 ;  1  kr.  75.  ' 

TIANDER,  C.,  Turgenjew  i  dansk  Aandsliv.     Copenhagen,  Gyldendal.     2  kr.  50. 
WARBURG,  K.,  Viktor  Rydberg.     Ny  uppl.     Stockholm,  A.  Bonnier.     3  kr.  50. 

WIMMER,  L.  F.  A.,  De  danske  Runemindesmaerker.  Haandudgave  ved  L. 
Jacobsen.  Copenhagen,  Gyldendal.  5  kr.  75. 

English. 

(a]     General  (incl.  Language}. 

BADDELEY,  W.  ST  CLAIR,  Place-names  of  Gloucestershire :  a  Handbook. 
London,  J.  Bellows.  5s.  net. 

BRADLEY,  H.,  On  the  relations  between  Spoken  and  Written  Language  with 
special  reference  to  English  (British  Academy).  London,  H.  Milford. 
Is.  net. 

DOLLE,  E.,  Zur  Sprache  Londons  vor  Chaucer.  (Studien  zur  englischen 
Philologie,  xxxii.)  Halle,  Niemeyer.  3  M.  60. 

Essays  and  Studies  by  Members  of  the  English  Association.  Vol.  iv.  collected 
by  C.  H.  Herford.  Oxford,  Clarendon  Press.  5s.  net. 

LUICK,  K.,  Historische  Grammatik  der  englischen  Sprache.  i.  Lieferung. 
Leipzig,  C.  H.  Tauchnitz.  4  M. 

MUTSCHMANN,  H.,  The  Place-names  of  Nottinghamshire  ;  their  origin  and 
development.  Cambridge,  Univ.  Press.  7s.  6d.  net. 

New  English  Dictionary,  ed.  by  Sir  J.  A.  H.  Murray.  Vol.  ix  (Sorrow — Speech), 
ed.  by  W.  A.  Craigie.  Oxford,  Clarendon  Press.  5s. 

PETRI,  A.,  Ubersicht  iiber  die  im  Jahre  1906  auf  dem  Gebiete  der  englischen 
Philologie  erschienenen  Bucher,  Schriften  und  Aufsatze.  (Anglia.  Suppl. 
Heft.)  Halle,  Niemeyer.  6  M. 

YOUNG,  W.  T.,  A  Primer  of  English  Literature.  Cambridge,  Univ.  Press. 
2s.  net. 

(6)     Old  and  Middle  English. 

BARTELS,  L.,  Die  Zuverlassigkeit  der  Handschriften  von  Layamons  Brut  und 
ihr  Verhaltnis  zum  Original.  (Studien  zur  englischen  Philologie,  XLIX.) 
Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  3  M. 

BULBRING,  K.  D.,  Untersuchungen  zur  mittelenglischen  Metrik.  Halle, 
M.  Niemeyer.  3  M.  40. 

FORSTER,  M.,  Der  Vercelli-Codex  cxvir,  nebst  Abdruck  alteuglischer  Homilien 
der  Handschrift.  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  5  M. 

LOVELICH,  H.,  Merlin,  a  Middle  English  metrical  version  of  a  French  romance. 
Edited  by  E.  A.  Kock,  Part  H.  London,  H.  Milford.  15s.  net. 


New  Publication*  293 

Medici na  de  quadruped ibus,  an  early  Middle  English  version,  edited  by 
J.  Delcourt.  (Anglistische  Forschungen,  XL.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter. 
2  M.  40. 

MEYER,  E.,  Die  Charakterzeichnung  bei  Chaucer.  (Studien  zur  englischen 
Philologie,  XLVIII.)  Halle,  M.  Nieineyer.  5  M. 

MtJHLEiSEN,  F.  W.,  Textkritische,  metrische  und  gramrnatische  Untersuchungen 
von  Barbour's  Bruce.  Bonn,  C.  Georgi.  6  M. 

SCHLEMILEH,  W.,  Beitrage  zur  Sprache  und  Orthographic  spatenglischer 
Sprachdenkmaler  der  Ubergangszeit  (1000 — 1150).  (Studien  zur  englischen 
Philologie,  xxxiv.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  2  M.  40. 

SPIES,  H.,  Chaucers  religiose  Grundstimrnurig  und  die  Echtheit  der  Parson's 
tale.  Eine  kritische  (Jntersuchung.  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  3  M.  40. 

WILDHAGEN,  K.,  Studien  zum  Psalterium  romanum  in  England  und  zu  seinen 
Glossierungen.  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  1  M.  60. 

(c)     Modern  English. 

BAKER,  E.  A.,  A  Guide  to  historical  fiction.     London,  Routledge.    -Sis.  net. 

BEAUMONT,  J.,  Minor  Poems,  1616-99.  Edited  by  E.  Robinson.  London, 
Constable.  21s.  net. 

BIEBER,  G.  A.,  Der  Melancholikertypus  Shakespeares  und  sein  Ursprung. 
(Anglistische  Arbeiten,  in.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  2  M.  30. 

BLAKE,  W.,  Poetical  Works.     Oxford  Ed.     London,  H.  Milford.     2s. 
BROWNING,  R.,  Poems.     Oxford  Ed.     London,  H.  Milford.     Is.  6d.  net. 

CAXTON'S  Mirrour  of  the  World.     Edited  by  O.  H.  Prior.     London,  H.  Milford. 

15s.  net. 
CHADWICK,  Mrs  E.  H.,  In  the  footsteps  of  the  Brontes.   London,  Pitman.    16s.  net. 

CHAMBRUN,  COUNTESS,  The  Sonnets  of  William  Shakespeare:  new  light  and 
old  evidence.  London,  Putnam.  7s.  Gd.  net. 

CLARETIE,  J.,  Shakespeare.     (Les  grands  hommes.)    Paris,  P.  Lafitte.     1  fr.  95. 

D' ALFONSO,  N.  R.,  Note  psicologiche,  estetiche  e  criminali  ai  drammi  di 
Guglielmo  Shakespeare :  Macbeth,  Re  Lear,  Arnleto,  Otello.  Milan  : 
Societk  editr.  libraria.  5  L. 

DELCOURT,  J.,  Essai  sur  la  langue  de  Sir  Thomas  More  d'apres  ses  ceuvres 
anglaises.  Paris,  H.  Didier.  12  fr. 

EICHLER,  A.,  Schriftbild  und  Lautwert  in  Charles  Butler's  English  Grammar 
(1633,  1634)  und  Feminin  'Monarchi'  (1634).  (Fruhneuenglische  Gram- 
matiken,  iv,  2.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  6  M. 

ERASMUS,  D.,  The  Praise  of  Folly,  transl.  by  John  Wilson  (1668).  Ed.  by 
Mrs  P.  S.  Allen.  Oxford,  Clarendon  Press.  3s.  6d.  net. 

FOSTER,  F.  A.,  The  Northern  Passion:  from  parallel  texts  and  the  French 
original.  The  Parallel  Texts.  London,  H.  Milford.  15s.  net. 

HEYWOOD,  JASPER,  and  his  translations  of  Seneca's  Troas,  Thyestes  and  Hercules 
furens.  Ed.  by  H.  de  Vocht.  (Materialien  zur  Kunde  des  alteren  englischen 
Dramas,  XLI.)  Lou  vain,  Uystpruyst.  30  fr. 

HUBENER,  G.,  Die  stilistische  Spannung  in  Milton's  '  Paradise  Lost.'  (Studien 
zur  englischen  Philologie,  LI.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  1  M.  80. 

H  UDSON,  W.  H.,  Wordsworth  and  his  poetry.  (Poetry  and  Life  Series.)  London, 
Harrap.  Is.  net. 

HUEFFER,  F.  M.,  Henry  James :  a  critical  study.    London,  M.  Seeker.    7s.  Qd.  net. 

JERROLD,  W.  and  LEONARD,  R.  M.,  A  Century  of  parody  and  imitation. 
(Oxford  Poets.)  London,  H.  Milford.  2s. 


294  Neiv  Publications 

JESPERSEN,  O.,  A  Modern  English  Grammar  on  historical  principle*.     Part  n. 

Syntax.     London,  Dulau.     10s.  net. 
KINGSLEY,  C.,  Poems.     Oxford  Ed.     London,  H.  Milford.     2*. 

LE  FEVRE,  R.,  The  History  of  Jason,  transl.  from  the  French  by  W.  Caxton, 
c.  1477.  Edited  by  John  Munro.  The  Text.  London,  H.  Milford.  15s.  net. 

LENZ,  H.,  John  Dennis,  sein  Leben  und  seine  Werke.    Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.    4  M. 

MACAULAY,  T.  B.,  Historical  essays  :  contributed  to  the  Edinburgh,  Review. 
Oxford  Ed.  London,  H.  Milford.  2s. 

MAIER,  W.,  Christopher  Anstey  und  der  '  New  Bath  Guide.'  Ein  Beitrag  zur 
Entwicklung  der  englischen  Satire  im  18.  Jahrh.  (Anglistische  Forschungen, 
xxxix.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  5  M.  60. 

MEISSNER,  J.,  Jung  Shakespeare.     Vienna,  C.  Konegen.     6  M. 
OLIVERO,  F.,  Studi  sul  romanticismo  inglese.     Bari,  G.  Laterza.     4  L. 
PELLISSIER,  G.,  Shakespeare  et  la  superstition  shakespearienne.    Paris,  Hachette. 

3  fr.  50. 
PUNDTER,  E.,  Englische  Hamlet-Darsteller  und   Darstellung  im   17.  und  18. 

Jahrh.     Weimar,  G.  Kiepenhauer.     2  M.  50. 

RHYS,  E.,  Browning  and  his  poetry.    (Poetry  and  Life  Series.)    London,  Harrap. 

Is.  net. 
ROSSETTI,  D.  G.,  Poems  and  translations,  1850-70.     Oxford  Poets.     London, 

H.  Milford.     2s. 
ROUSSIN,  H.,  William  Godwin  (1756—1836).     Paris,  Plon-Nourrit.     7  fr.  50. 

SHAKESPEARE,  W.,  The  Tragedie  of  Cymbeline.  Edited  by  H.  H.  Furness. 
(New  Variorum  Edition.)  London,  Lippincott.  15s.  net. 

SKEAT,  W.  W.,  A  Glossary  of  Tudor  and  Stuart  Words,  especially  from  the 
dramatists.  Edited  by  A.  L.  Mayhew.  Oxford,  Clarendon  Press.  5s.  net. 

SMITH,  T.,  De  recta  et  emendata  linguae  anglicae  scriptione  dialogus  (1568). 
Herausg.  von  O.  Deibel.  (Neudrucke  friihneuenglischer  Grammatiken,  VIIL) 
Halle,,  M.  Niemeyer.  6  M. 

STRANG,  W.,  George  Crabbe.  Quain  essay,  1913.  London,  Hodder  and 
Stoughton.  Is.  net. 

VERRALL,  A.  W.     Lectures  on  Dryden.     Cambridge,  Univ.  Press.     7s.  6d.  net. 

VOHL,  M.,  Die  Erzahlungen  der  Mary  Shelley  und  ihre  Urbilder.  (Anglistische 
Arbeiten,  iv.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  4  M.  20. 

German. 

(a)     General  (incl.  Language). 

BLUMEL,  R.,  Die  Haupttypen  der  heutigen  neuhochdeutschen  Wortstellung  im 

Hauptsatz.     (Untersuchungen  zur  indogermanischen  Sprach-  und  Kultur- 

wissenschaft,  v.)     Strassburg,  K.  J.  Triibner.     3  M. 

DELLIT,  0.,  Die  Mundart  von  Kleinschmalkalden.    Marburg,  N.  G.  Elwert.    6  M. 
GOEDEKE,    K.,   Grundriss    zur  Geschichte  der  deutschen   Dichtung.     x.   Bd. 

(2.  Aufl.) ;  iv.  Band,  4.  Abt.  (3.  Aufl.).     Dresden,  Ehlermann.     18  M.  60 

and  8  M.  60. 
GRIMM,  J.  und  W.,  Deutsches  Worterbuch.    iv.  Bd.,  1.  A.bt.,  4.  Teil,  2.  Lieferung ; 

xi.  Bd.,  2.  Abt.,  1.  Lieferung ;  xi.  Bd.,  3.  Abt.,  2.  Lieferung  ;  and  xv.  Bd.,  1. 

Lieferung.     Leipzig,  Herzel.     Each  2  M. 

JELLINEK,  M.  H.,  Geschichte  der  neuhochdeutschen  Grammatik  von  den 
Anfangen  bis  auf  Adelung.  n.  Halbbd.  (Germanische  Bibliothek,  n.  7.) 
Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  10  M. 

ROHL,  H.,  Geschichte  der  deutschen  Dichtung.     Leipzig,  B.  G.  Teubner.     3  M. 


New  Publications  295 

(b)  Old  and  Middle  High  German. 

CAMPBELL,  F.  E.  A.,  Die  Prosa-Apokalypse  der  Konigsberger  Handschrift  Nr. 
891  und  die  Apocalypse  Heinrichs  von  Hesler.  (Normannia,  xn.)  Berlin, 
E.  Felber.  8  M. 

Denkmaler  deutscher  Prosa  des  11.  und  12.  Jahrh.  Herausg.  von  F.  Wilhelm. 
(Miinchener  Texte,  vm.)  Munich,  G.  D.  W.  Callwey.  2  M.  50. 

FLECK,  K.,  Bruchstiicke  von  Konrad  Flecks  Floire  und  Blancheflur.  Nach  den 
Handschriften  heraiisg.  von  C.  H.  Rischen.  (Germanische  Bibliothek,  in,  4.) 
Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  3  M.  60. 

HOPFNER,  R.,  Untersuchungen  zu  dem  Innsbrucker,  Berliner  und  Wiener 
Osterspiel.  (Germanistische  Abhandlungen,  XLV.)  Breslau,  M.  and  H. 
Marcus.  5  M.  60. 

NAUMANN,  H.,  Notkers  Boethius.  Untersuchungen  iiber  Quellen  und  Stil. 
(Quellen  und  Forschungen,  cxxi.)  Strassburg,  K.  J.  Trubner.  4  M. 

POGATSCHER,  F.,  Zur  Entstehungsgeschichte  des  mittelhochdeutschen  Gedichtes 
vom  Konig  Rother.  Halle,  Niemeyer.  2  M.  40.  «• 

(c)  Modern  German. 

Alt- Wiener  Volkstheater.  Herausg.  von  0.  Rommel.  7  Bande.  (Deutsch- 
osterreichische  Klassiker-Bibliothek.)  Teschen,  K.  Prochaska.  7  M. 

ARNOLD,  G.  D.,  Der  Pfingstrnontag.  Lustspiel  in  Strassburger  Mundart. 
Herausg.  von  J.  Lefftz  und  E.  Marckwald.  (Jahresgaben  der  Gesellschaft 
flir  elsassische  Literatur,  n.)  Strassburg,  K.  J.  Trubner.  10  M. 

BAMBERG,  W.,  Die  Verwendung  des  Monologs  in  Goethes  Dramen  unter  Beriick- 
sichtigung  der  Technik  bei  Goethes  unmittelbaren  Vorgangern.  (Theater- 
geschichtliche  Forschungen,  xxvi.)  Leipzig,  L.  Voss.  1  M.  80. 

BRAHM,  0.,  Kritische  Schriften  iiber  Drama  und  Theater.  Herausg.  von 
P.  Schlenther.  Berlin,  S.  Fischer.  5  M. 

BRENTANO,  C.,  Samtliche  Werke,  xi.  und  xn.  Band.  Munich,  G.  Miiller. 
Each  6  M. 

BRUGGEMANN,  F.,  Utopie  und  Robinsonade.  Untersuchungen  zu  Schnabels 
Insel  Felsenburg.  (Forschungen  zur  neueren  Literaturgeschichte,  XLVI.) 
Weimar,  A.  Duncker.  8  M. 

FoRSTER-NiETZscHE,  E.,  Der  einsame  Nietzsche.     Leipzig,  A.  Kroner.     4  M 

FRANKE,  £!.,  Grundziige  der  Schriftsprache  Luthers  in  allgemeinverstandlicher 
Darstellung.  ti.  Teil.  2.  Aufl.  Halle,  Waisenhaus.  8  M.  40. 

FRANZEL,  W.,  Geschichte  des  Ubersetzens  im  18.  Jahrhundert.  (Beitrage  zur 
Kultur-  und  Universalgeschichte,  xxv.)  Leipzig,  R.  Voigtlander.  7  M.  50. 

GLEicHENrRusswuRM,  A.  VON,  Schiller.  Die  Geschichte  seines  Lebens.  Stutt- 
gart, J.  Hoffmann.  8  M.  50. 

GoethecBriefe,  herausg.  von  Ph.  Stein,  i.  Bd.  Der  junge  Goethe.  Berlin,  Meyer 
und  Jessen.  2  M.  50. 

GOETHE,  J.  W.  VON,  West-eastern  Divan.     Transl.  by  E.  Dowden.     London, 

Dent.     6s. 
GOETHE,  J.  W.  VON  und  ZELTER,  K.  F.,  Der  Brief wechsel  zwischen.    Im  Auftrag 

des  Goethe-  und  Schiller- Archivs  herausg.  von  M.  Hecker.    i.  Band  (1799 — 

1818).     Leipzig,  Insel- Verlag.     5  M. 
HARCOURT,  R.  D',  C.  F.  Meyer.     La  crise  de  1852-56.     Lettres  de  C.  F.  Meyer 

et  de  son  entourage.    (Bibl.  de  philologie  et  de  litterature  modernes.)    Paris, 

F.  Alcan.     5  fr. 
HARCOURT,  R.  D',  C.  F.  Meyer,  sa  vie,  son  0311  vre  (1825-98).    (Bibl.  de  philologie 

et  de  litterature  modernes.)     Paris,  F.  Alcan.     10  fr. 


296  New  Publications 

HEILMANN,  D.  F.,  Morikes  Lyrik  und  das  Volkslied.     (Berliner  Beitrage  zur 

germanischen  und  romanischen  Philologie,  XLVII.)    Berlin,  E.  Ebering.    4  M. 
HEYNEN,  W.,    Der  '  Sonnenwirt '   von   Hermann   Kurz.     Eine   Quellenstudie. 

(Palaestra,  cxxii.)     Berlin,  Mayer  und  Miiller.     9  M.  50. 
HIPPE,  F.,  E.  A.  Poes  Lyrik  in  Deutschland.    Munster,  C.  Obertiischen.    1  M.  50. 
HUDSON,  W.  H.,  Schiller  and  his  poetry.     (Poetry  and  Life  Series.)     London, 

Harrap.     Is.  net. 
JAEGGI,  F.,  Gottfried  Keller  und  Jean   Paul.     (Sprache  und  Dichtung,  xiv.) 

Bern,  A.  Francke.     3  fr. 
KELLER,  G.,  Der  grime  Heinrich.     Roman.     Nach  der  1.  Fassung  von  1854- 

55.     4  Bande.     Stuttgart,  Cotta.    -65  M. 

KUHNEMANN,  E.,  Vom  Weltreich  des  deutschen  Geistes.     Reden  und  Aufsatze. 

Munich,  C.  H.  Beck.     7  M. 
KUNZE,    K.,    Die    Dichtung   Richard    Dehmels    als  Ausdruck    der    Zeitseele. 

(Beitrage  zur  Kultur-  und  Universalgeschichte,  xxvi.)     Leipzig,  R.  Voigt- 

lander.     4  M. 
KURZ,  W.,  F.  M.  Klingers  'Sturm  und  Drang.'     (Bausteine  zur  Geschichte 

der  neueren  deutschen  Literatur,  XT.)     Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.     3  M.  60. 

Lalebuch,  Das  (1597),  herausg.  von  K.  von  Bahder.  (Neudrucke  deutscher 
Literaturwerke  des  16.  und  17.  Jahrh.,  236-239.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer. 
2  M.  40. 

LEUTHOLD,  H.,  Gesammelte  Dichtungen  in  3  Banden.  Herausg.  von  G. 
Bohnenblust.  Frauenfeld,  Huber  &  Co.  36  fr. 

LINDEMANN,  TH.,  Versuch  einer  Formenlehre  des  Htirnen  Seyfrid.  Mit  den 
24.  Holzschnitten  des  neuentdeckten  Druckes  von  1563  als  Anhang. 
Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  4  M. 

LUDWIG,  E.,  Richard  Dehmel.     Berlin,  S.  Fischer.     3  M. 

MODICK,  O.,  Goethes  Beitrage  zu  den  Frankfurter  Gelehrten  Anzeigen  von 
1772.  Borna,  R.  Noske.  3  M. 

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Literaturen,  x.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  3  M.  40. 

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VOLUME  IX  JULY,  1914  NUMBER  3 


THE   MENTAL   SIDE   OF   METRICAL  FOKM. 

Theories  of  metre  are  notoriously  matters  of  heated  and  seemingly 
irreconcilable  debate.  One  reason  for  this  may  doubtless  be  found  in 
the  character  of  the  phenomena  concerned.  Metrical  form  is,,  based  on 
certain  relations  of  sounds ;  but  these  sounds  are  not  accurately  repre- 
sented by  the  symbols  used  in  the  printing  of  verse.  The  chief 
constituent  elements  of  rhythm  are  generally  considered  to  be  stress 
and  time,  and  neither  the  stress  nor  the  time  of  the  sounds  of  verse  is 
indicated  by  the  poet  when  he  publishes  his  product,  with  anything 
like  the  clearness  which  the  musician  attains  through  the  symbols 
available  for  his  art.  The  reader  of  verse  is  therefore  left,  within 
certain  limits,  to  interpret  the  rhythm  subjectively — we  know  with 
what  differences  both  of  theory  and  practice.  But,  more  than  this, 
verse  is  read  silently  quite  as  often  as  aloud,  and  the  rhythm  of  it  is 
perceived  mentally — that  is,  some  assumed  rhythm  is  perceived  for 
it — even  when  none  is  audibly  expressed.  Nor  can  we  be  easily  certain 
that  the  expressed  rhythm,  when  it  finds  vocal  utterance,  is  identical 
with  that  which  has  been  mentally  perceived  in  silent  reading  or  with 
that  which  is  mentally  conceived  at  the  moment  of  oral  expression. 
We  may  even  be  fairly  sure  that  to  some  extent  it  is -not  the  same. 

I  suppose  that  all  the  statements  made  in  the  foregoing  paragraph 
are  sufficiently  obvious  and  commonplace,  with  the  exception  of  the  last ; 
and  it  is  the  purpose  of  this  paper  to  explain  and  illustrate  that.  That 
the  fact  of  some  divergence  between  rhythmical  form  as  conceived  and 
as  expressed  is  not  altogether  obvious,  or  well  understood,  would  seem 
to  be  shown  by  such  considerations  as  these :  that  it  is  not  explained 
in  the  standard  works  on  metrics;  that  in  certain  discussions  of  the 
subject  it  appears  that  one  party  is  thinking  of  what  is  .heard,  the  other 
of  what  is  only  conceived ;  and  that  there  is  an  increasing  tendency  to 
use  physical  means  of  analysing  metrical  form  (as  by  phonographic 
records  and  the  like)  with  the  implied  assumption  that  these  must  tell 
us  the  whole  truth. 

M.   L.  R.   IX.  20 


298  The  Mental  Side  of  Metrical  Form 

I  shall  undertake,  in  discussing  this  obscured  mental  side  of  metrical 
form,  to  proceed  from  what  is  universally  admitted  to  what  is  not ; 
for  of  course  some  sorts  of  divergence  between  rhythmical  sound  as 
conceived  and  as  expressed  are  understood  by  everyone,  and  we  may 
profitably  pass  from  these  to  more  complex  and  uncertain  phenomena 
which  the  same  principle  may  help  us  to  analyse. 

To  begin,  then,  with  an  undisputed  principle,  it  has  been  observed 
that  the  rhythm  of  verse  may  be  dependent  on  silences  (that  is,  silent 
periods)  as  well  as  on  sounds.  This  is  the  phrasing  of  Sidney  Lanier, 
who  discussed  the  matter  fully  on  the  basis  of  analogies  between 
verse  and  music.  All  respectable  treatises  now  point  out  phenomena 
like  the  pauses  or  rests  in  such  lines  as  'Break,  break,  break'  and  'Auld 
lang  syne';  while  some  discuss  special  metres  in  which  such  intervals 
are  used  more  constantly, — like  that  of  Meredith's  '  Love  in  the  Valley,' 
the  opening  line  of  which, 

Under  yonder  beech-tree  single  on  the  greensward, 

cannot  be  understood  without  apprehending  that  certain  syllables  are 
omitted  from  the  rhythmical  type,  but  may  be  found  fully  expressed  in 
the  line 

When  at  dawn  she  sighs  and  like  an  infant  to  the  window. 

Now  it  is  evident  that  this  kind  of  variation  means  that  a  unit  of  time 
is  perceived  for  which  no  sound  is  heard.  But  we  may  go  a  step 
further,  and  be  reasonably  sure  that  the  pause  which  might  be  regis- 
tered phonetically  does  not  correspond  exactly  with  the  temporal  unit 
which  it  is  conceived  to  represent.  Even  in  music,  where  the  element 
of  speech-habit  is  not  present  to  complicate  the  situation,  it  is  often 
observed  that  the  full  time  is  not  given  to  a  rest  the  theoretical  value 
of  which  is  nevertheless  perceived.  I  am  not  saying  whether  this  ought 
to  be  true,  either  in  verse  or  music, — whether  it  is  good  reading  to  let 
the  natural  speech-impulse  hurry  over  a  metrical  pause  the  observance 
of  which  is  necessary  to  the  full  expression  of  the  rhythm.  I  remark 
only  that  it  very  often  happens,  and  that  here  we  have  a  relatively 
simple  example  of  the  possibility  of  divergence  between  rhythm  con- 
ceived and  rhythm  expressed. 

In  the  same  connection  it  has  been  noticed  that,  though  omitted 
syllables,  are  usually  the  unstressed  ones,  a  rest  may  even  fall — again  as 
in  music — on  the  stressed  place  in  the  measure.    It  is  disputed  whether 
this  is  the  sufficient  explanation  of  a  famous  line  of  Shakespeare's — 
Than  the  soft  myrtle.     But  man,  proud  man  ; — 


RAYMOND  MACDONALD  ALDEN  299 

but  this  is  only  because  one  hesitates  to  accept  a  verse  so  much  at 
variance  with  the  syllabic  structure  of  this  particular  metre.  No  one, 
I  suppose,  questions  the  possibility  of  passing  over  the  third  stress  in 
the  line,  thinking  it,  so  to  say,  in  silence.  And  this  prepares  us 
naturally  for  the  fact  that  syllables  which  are  present  and  pronounced 
may  be  thought  of  as  stressed  and  yet  be  uttered  without  stress.  The 
indubitable  examples  of  this  are  found  at  the  end  of  the  line,  and  are 
made  more  conspicuous  by  rhyme.  We  constantly  find  '  liberty,'  'wilder- 
ness,' 'messenger,'  'perishing,'  'reverent,'  ' inconsolably,'  and  the  like, 
in  the  final  position,  rhyming  either  with  similar  terminations  or — more 
commonly — with  fully  stressed  syllables  like  '  free,'  '  bless,'  and  '  sing.' 
That  the  mind  of  the  reader  conceives  of  them  as  stressed  is  clear  from 
the  fact  that  we  do  not  recognise  rhyme  as  existing,  at  any  rate  in  its 
function  as  an  organiser  of  the  stanza,  except  in  the  case  of  stressed 
syllables.  In  some  cases  of  this  sort  a  certain  number  of  readers 
pronounce  the  final  syllable  with  a  slight  secondary  accent, — readers 
who  always  give  metrical  form  the  benefit  of  the  doubt ;  but  these  are 
the  minority,  and  in  few  or  no  cases  does  the  pronunciation  indicate 
the  important  rhyming  stress  which  we  may  assume  is  associated  with 
the  syllable  mentally. 

From  this  it  is  scarcely  a  step  to  the  observation  that  the  same 
thing  is  constantly  occurring  in  other  positions,  where  it  attracts  even 
less  attention.  Lines  like  these — 

And  catch  the  manners  living  as  they  rise 
And  Enoch  was  abroad  on  wrathful  seas 
Her  hand  dwelt  lingeringly  on  the  latch 
Nor  ever  did  he  speak  nor  looked  at  me — 

are  variously  explained  by  various  critics,  when  it  comes  to  a  question 
of  terminology.  Professor  Mayor  indicates  a  '  pyrrhic  '  foot ;  Professor 
Bright  finds  a  compensating  'pitch  accent';  M.  Verrier  speaks  of 
'weakened  strong  syllables';  others  note  a  slight  'secondary  accent.' 
Doubtless  the  reading  of  such  lines  varies  almost  as  widely.  But  the  one 
thing  which  seems  to  me  to  be  indisputable  is  that  there  is  present  in 
all  cases  a  certain  conception  of  the  metrical  form,  naturally  assumed  by 
any  reader  familiar  with  the  general  rhythm  represented,  which  is 
either  wholly  discarded  or  only  partially  represented  in  actual  utterance. 
I  have  found  a  clear  account  of  this  matter  only  in  the  writings  of 
Mr  Omond ;  see  especially  his  letters  to  the  Academy  on  'Inverted 
Feet1,'  in  the  first  of  which  occurs  the  following  important  remark  : 

1  October  3  and  10,  1908. 

20—2 


300  The  Mental  Side  of  Metrical  Form 

'  Speech  stress  and  metrical  accent  are  two  different  things,  not  to  be 
confounded.  Half  the  mistakes  of  prosodic  theory  come  from  supposing 
that  a  mental  beat  must  needs  receive  physical  expression1.' 

So  much  for  the  perception  of  -stresses  not  actually  represented  in 
utterance.  Let  us  next  turn  to  the  still  more  difficult  matter  of  the 
time-intervals  which  are,  in  theory,  measured  by  the  stresses.  Here 
we  are  confronted  by  the  whole  warring  company  of  those  who  discuss 
'isochronous'  verse,  'alternating'  verse,  'equivalent'  feet,  musical 
measures,  and  the  rest.  I  shall  avoid  the  more  controverted  details, 
simply  observing  that  it  seems  to  have  been  abundantly  proved  that 
rhythm,  in  the  abstract,  is  dependent  on  equal  time-intervals  between 
stresses,  but  on  the  other  hand  we  all  know  reputable  readers  of  verse 
who  manage  to  get  on  without  them.  I  may  say  that  I  do  not  count 
myself  among  these  readers ;  for  me  the  stable  time-interval  is  always 
present  in  consciousness,  though  I  do  not  know  how  fully  experiment 
would  show  me  to  observe  it  in  practice.  It  seems  likely,  then,  when 
we  once  admit  diversity  of  habit,  as  well  as  of  theory,  among  readers 
who  may  claim  to  be  duly  appreciative  of  verse,  that  the  case  with  the 
intervals  between  the  stresses  is  like  that  with  the  stresses  themselves, 
namely,  the  idea  of  regularity  overtops  its  expression.  And  in  testi- 
mony of  this  I  can  quote  no  better  authority  than  M.  Verrier,  since  he 
is  one  of  the  ablest  defenders  of  '  isochronism,'  and  claims  to  have 
proved  its  actual  existence  in  the  tempo  of  properly  read  and  recorded 
verse.  '  Not  only,'  he  says,  '  is  absolute  equality  of  measures  and  feet 
impossible,  it  is  not  even  desirable;  to  express  the  variations  of  feeling, 
one  must  change  the  tempo  at  every  moment.  But  through  accidental 
irregularities  and  artistic  variations,  when  they  do  not  exceed  a  fairly 
high  percentage,  the  impression  of  rhythm  persists.  A  subjective 
reality,  isochronism  exists  only  as  a  tendency  and  an  illusion.  It  is  in 
this  sense  that  it  is  the  principle  of  rhythm2.' 

The  next  matter  to  which  I  shall  apply  our  principle  is  rather  less 
important  than  the  question  of  the  time-units  of  verse,  but  perhaps 

1  The  italics  are  mine.     The  same  idea  appears  in  the  interesting  unsigned  article  on 
'  English  Prosody '  found   in   the    Quarterly  Review   of   July,   1911 :    '  So   long   as   the 
structure  of  a  verse  shows  either  in  itself  or  in  its  context  the  number  of  accents  which 
it  ought  to  have  and  the  places  where  they  ought  to  fall,  so  long  as  the  mind  hears  the 
implied  accents  in  their  places,  the  number  and  position  of  the  accents  which  actually 
occur  is  of  no  consequence.'     (p.  93.     Again  the  italics  are  mine.) 

2  Questions  de  Metrique  Anglaise,  1912,  p.  7.     (This  pamphlet,  primarily  a  reply  to 
M.  Verrier's  critics,  will  be  found  a  convenient  summary  of  the  views  which  are  developed 
at  length  in  the  volumes  of  the  Essai  sur  les  principes  de  la  metrique  anglaise.)     But  why, 
if  this  is  true,  does  M.  Verrier  object  so  strenuously  to  the  remark  of  Mr  Eudmose-Brown 
that  'metrics  and  phonetics  do  not  necessarily  divide  speech  into  tbe  same  groups'? 
(Modern  Language  Review,  vol.  vn,  p.  527.) 


RAYMOND    MACDONALD    ALDEN  301 

even  more  disputable;  I  mean  the  matter  of  the  fundamental  character 
of  '  rising '  and  '  falling '  rhythm.  Is  this  distinction  a  real  one,  or  only 
a  matter  of  convenient  counting  ?  Does  it  inhere  in  the  movement  of 
an  entire  composition,  or  only  in  single  lines  ?  Is  it  based  on  verbal 
phrasing,  or  on  arbitrary  metrical  measurements  ?  The  answers  are 
almost  as  conflicting  as  can  be  conceived.  At  one  extreme  stand  those 
who  accept  musical  notation  as  adequate  for  the  representation  of 
English  metres,  and  who  therefore  make  no  distinction  between  iambic 
and  trochaic  verse,  except  that  the  former  involves  '  anacrusis '  and  the 
latter  does  not.  Of  this  position  the  most  noteworthy  representative, 
I  take  it,  is  Mr  William  Thomson1.  At  the  other  extreme  stands  so 
distinguished  and  penetrating  a  critic  of  verse  as  Professor  Saintsbury, 
who  finds  that  to  call  iambic  and  trochaic  scansion  identical  'is  as 
though  a  man  should  say  that  blue  is  the  same  as  orange.'  That  they 
are  '  utterly  different '  his  ear  informs  him,  'without  phrase  and  without 
appeal2.'  Between  these  stands  Mr  Omond,  who  believes  that  iambic 
and  trochaic  forms  are  '  really  subdivisions  of  the  same  metre/  yet 
deprecates  the  use  of  the  musical — or  any  similar — notation  for  purposes 
of  analysis,  since  it  seems  to  imply  that  our  most  common  metres  show 
an  incomplete  foot,  a  solitary  word,  at  both  the  beginning  and  the  end 
of  every  line3.  Quite  different,  again,  is  the  position  of  M.  Verrier,  who 
recognises  the  difference  between  rising  and  falling  rhythm,  but  makes 
it  depend  on  word  phrasing  and  so  on  the  character  of  each  line  taken 
independently4. 

Now  these  varying  opinions  seem  to  me  to  be  exceedingly  instructive, 
if  puzzling, — all  the  more,  I  may  add,  because  the  four  critics  in  ques- 
tion happen  to  be  the  four,  among  living  writers,  for  whose  judgments  on 
metrical  subjects  I  have  come  to  have  most  respect.  For  the  sake  of 
clearness  in  discussion,  and  not  for  argument's  sake,  I  shall  say  at  once 
that  my  own^  opinion  is  practically  identical  with  that  cited  from 
Mr  Omond.  When  I  listen  to  my  watch  I  hear  a  double  rhythm  con- 

1  The  Basis  of  English  Rhythm,  1904. 

2  History  of  English  Prosody,  vol.  in,  p.  530. 

3  A  Study  of  Metre,  p.  61. 

4  Thus  he  calls  'Heart  within  and  God  o'erhead'  rising  rhythm,  because  (if  I  understand 
aright)  the  phrases  terminate  with  the  accent,  and  '  Echoing  grottoes,  full  of  tumbling 
waves'  falling  rhythm,  conversely.     (Questions,  pp.  13,  14.)    And  he  finds  it  inconceivable 
that  these  two  lines — 

Gathering  up  from  all  the  lower  ground — 
Innocent  lambs !   they  thought  not  any  ill — 

should  be  treated,  the  one  as  in  falling  rhythm,  the  other  as  in  rising,  when  they  are  of 
almost  identical  metrical  form  and  phrasing.  '  To  pronounce  in  one  way  and  scan  in 
another,'  he  exclaims,  '  what  a  singular  analysis  !  ' 


302  The  Mental  Side  of  Metrical  Form 

stantly  persisting,  which  might  be  described  as  sounding  'chick-che- 
chick-che-chick-che,'  ad  infiniium.  One  of  the  two  sounds  is  clearly 
stressed,  in  comparison  with  the  other,  and  I  am  never  in  doubt  as  to 
which  it  is.  But  I  can  at  will  group  the  sounds  in  pairs  according  to 
either  of  these  schemes : 

Chick-che,  chick-che,  chick-che,  chick-che 
Che-chick,  che-chick,  che-chick,  che-chick. 

There  is  no  pause  between  any  two  of  'them ;  the  pause  I  postulate  in 
either  grouping  is  a  fiction  of  my  rnind.  If  I  knew  how  the  watch  had 
started  going  when  it  was  first  wound  up — whether  it  began  with  the 
•  chick '  or  the  '  che ' — I  should  have  a  certain  prejudice  in  favour  of  the 
grouping  beginning  with  that  sound ;  but  as  I  do  not  know,  I  have  no 
prejudice.  If  I  put  the  watch  to  my  ear  without  any  preconceived 
grouping  in  mind,  I  notice  that  I  am  likely  to  hear  what  I  may  call  the 
trochaic  form  (chick-che,  etc.),  which  I  take  to  be  due  to  the  fact  that 
I  hear  the  louder  sound  first,  and  it  seems  to  start  off  the  rhythm. 
But  if,  before  putting  the  watch  to  my  ear,  I  set  up  the  iambic  rhythm 
in  my  consciousness,  it  is  at  once  heard  and  maintained.  Now  in  the 
case  of  rising  and  falling  rhythm  in  verse,  I  find  myself  in  a  very  similar 
state,  with  the  exception  that  in  verse,  of  course,  there  are  several 
perceptible  causes  of  prejudice  in  one  direction  or  another.  Since  lines 
of  verse  are  always  printed  separately,  my  perception  that  a  given 
verse  starts  out  with  the  unaccented  syllable  leads  me  naturally  to 
think  of  its  rhythm  as  in  iambic  form, — unless  I  presently  discover 
that  the  greater  number  of  the  neighbouring  verses  begin  with  the 
accented  syllable,  in  which  case  I  change  my  conception  and  have  no 
difficulty  in  fitting  the  same  verse  to  the  trochaic  scheme.  Since  I  am 
unaccustomed  to  modern  poetry  in  which  initial  syllables  are  freely 
dropped  (as  in  Chaucer's  '  Twenty  bokes,  clad  in  blak  or  reed '),  I  find 
it  difficult  to  conceive  of  a  line  like  '  Waken,  lords  and  ladies  gay '  as 
iambic  metre  with  initial  truncation.  But  if  I  should  find  it  in  a 
connection  like  this  : 

At  length  upon  the  harp  with  glee 
A  lively  air  began  to  play  : 
'  Waken,  lords  and  ladies  gay  ! ' 

I  should  then  tit  it  to  the  iambic  scheme  at  once,  and,  so  far  as  I  can 
see,  with  no  difference  of  reading  from  that  adopted  in  the  first  instance. 
In  other  words,  while,  like  most  conventionally  trained  English  readers, 
I  have  the  contrasting  concepts  of  rising  and  falling  metre  firmly  fixed 


RAYMOND'  MACDONALD    ALDEN  303 

in  mind,  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  they  are  nothing  more  than 
concepts,  alterable  at  will  and  not  represented  in  utterance1. 

This  personal  account  of  my  attitude  toward  the  iamb-trochee  con- 
troversy has  not,  I  repeat,  been  offered  as  argument,  but  rather  in 
order  to  contrast  it  with  the  attitude  of  those  readers  of  verse  who  are 
represented  by  Mr  Saintsbury.  Mr  Saintsbury  tells  us,  it  will  be 
recalled,  that  his  ear  'at  once  informs'  him  that 

When    the  Brit-     ish  war-  |  rior  Queen 
is  an  entirely  different  metre  from 

When  the     British  |  warrior  |  Queen. 

And  I  am  far  from  thinking  that  the  pronouncement  of  his  ear  is  not 
to  be  respected.  Only  I  wish  to  know  just  what  it  means,  and  venture 
to  suspect  that  it  was  not  his  ear  that  really  made  the  pronouncement. 
It  does  not  mean,  I  suppose,  that  any  different  pauses — amounting 
even  to  '  the  division  of  the  twentieth  part  of  one  poor  scruple ' — are 
left  between  the  syllables  forming  the  iambic  feet  in  the  one  case  and 
the  trochaic  feet  in  the  other,  for  Mr  Saintsbury  does  not  conceive  his 
metrical  feet  as  having  any  connection  with  verbal  phrasing2.  Having 
read  all  that  he  has  written  on  the  subject,  so  far  as  I  know,  I  do  not 
observe  that  he  asserts  any  specific  difference  in  the  reading  of  a  line 
in  rising  rhythm  from  that  of  a  line  made  up  of  the  same  words  in 
falling  rhythm.  All  that  I  learn  is  that  '  the  base-rhythms  of  the  two 
plans  are  diametrically  opposed,'  and  that  the  '  poetical  effect '  is  of  two 
characters.  To  Mr  Omond,  on  the  other  hand,  who  has  equally  well 
demonstrated  his  competence  as  a  witness  in  this  case,  the  base- 
rhythms  are  not  opposed.  I  suspect,  then,  that  we  have  to  do  here, 
not  with  the  method  of  reading  verse  aloud,  nor  on  the  other  hand 
with  mere  terminology,  but  with  some  aspect  of  mental  rhythm,  so  to 
say,  which  has  not  yet  been  carefully  investigated. 

Before  leaving  this  topic  I  wish  to  return  for  a  moment  to  M.  Verrier. 
His  interpretation  of  rising  and  falling  rhythm,  it  will  be  recalled,  is 
based  on  verbal  phrasing,  and  for  this  reason  it  is  difficult  to  align  his 
discussion  of  the  subject  with  others.  For  myself,  I  find  his  analysis  of 
the  more  delicate  syllabic  groupings  of  verse-syllables  exceedingly  sug- 
gestive, as  I  do  the  corresponding  analyses  of  Mr  Saintsbury  in  the 

1  The  last  phrase  is  perhaps  not  wholly  accurate.     I  am  inclined  to  think  that,  other 
things  being  equal,  I  read  verse  opening  with  the  stressed  syllable  (trochaic)  somewhat 
more  rapidly  than  that  of  the  more  familiar  sort  (iambic).     See  in  Omond's  English 
Metrists,  page  231,  a  summary  of  experiments  made  by  certain  psychologists  concerning 
this  question, — with,  unfortunately,  conflicting  results. 

2  See  History  of  English  Prosody,  vol.  in,  p.  526  note. 


304  The  Mental  Side  of  Metrical  Form 

case  of  what  he  calls  the  '  fingering '  of  lines, — that  which  makes  the 
difference  between 

The  thunder    of  the  trumpets     of  the  night 
and 

The  sound     of  blaring  horns     upon  the  night. 

And  if  M.  Verrier  wishes  to  call  this  the  difference  between  falling  and 
rising  rhythm — which  may  obviously,  in  that  case,  change  in  every 
line — one  need  not  object,  provided  the  terms  are  understood.  It  would 
seem  safer,  however,  to  distinguish  the  lines  as  characterised  by 
'  feminine '  and  '  masculine '  phrasing.  But  this  is  not  at  all  the  same 
thing  as  our  problem  of  rising  and  falling  rhythm  as  generally  under- 
stood,— the  question  of  the  continuous  march  or  run  of  the  metre ;  and 
it  seems  to  me  that  in  confusing  the  two  things  M.  Verrier  has  given 
us  a  striking  example  of  the  need  for  considering  the  subject  of  this 
paper.  '  To  pronounce  in  one  way  and  scan  in  another,'  we  have  found 
him  saying,  is  absurd.  Again,  with  reference  to  the  practice  of  calling 
certain  long  syllables  '  dissyllabic  in  effect,'  and  of  regarding  others  as 
hypermetrical  or  *  not  counting  in  the  metre,'  he  exclaims :  '  To  count 
syllables  which  do  not  exist,  and  not  count  those  that  do  exist — an  odd 
analysis1.'  But  the  whole  trend  of  our  discussion  has  been  to  the  effect 
that  this  is  exactly  what  we  are  frequently  doing, — pronouncing  one 
thing  and  thinking  of  another ;  uttering  two  syllables  and  feeling  that 
they  have  the  value  of  one  or  of  three  ;  speaking  without  a  stress  but 
imagining  the  stress ;  keeping  the  mind  on  the  type  and  the  voice  on 
the  exception.  Hence  the  mere  physical  facts,  as  reported — for  instance 
—by  M.  Verrier's  records,  valuable  as  they  doubtless  are,  do  not  tell  us 
the  whole  truth.  They  do  not  tell  us  that  '  Gathering  up  from  all  the 
lower  ground '  follows  the  line,  '  Then  methought  I  heard  a  mellow 
sound,'  and  that  the  reader  is  therefore  likely  to  set  it  to  the  trochaic 
movement ;  while  '  Innocent  lambs !  they  thought  not  any  ill '  is  from 
a  blank- verse  drama  based  throughout  on  the  iambic  scheme,  so  that 

1  Questions,  p.  22.  I  may  say  that  I  am  far  from  sharing  the  easy  contempt  which  has 
been  shown  by  certain  English-speaking  reviewers  of  M.  Verrier's  investigations,  who  have 
not  hesitated  to  imply  that  his  acquaintance  with  our  language  is  not  above  suspicion. 
Having  myself  learned  with  certainty  that  his  English — including  his  ability  to  read 
English  verse— is  about  as  faultless  as  any  foreign  scholar's  could  possibly  be  desired  to 
be,  I  am  not  able  to  explain  my  dissent  from  some  of  his  opinions  so  cheaply.  Yet  it  may 
not  be  inconsistent  to  suggest  that  on  the  particular  matter  under  consideration  here, 
involving  not  so  much  accuracj'  of  ear  or  tongue,  as  understanding  of  racial  concepts  of 
metrical  form,  M.  Verrier  may  have  been  led  to  neglect  matters  which  seem  to  us  to  be 
vital  realities  but  which  could  not  well  appear  to  one  not  born  to  the  language.  The 
conception  of  a  continuous  rising  or  falling  rhythm,  apart  from  the  actual  phrasing  of 
syllables,  would  seem  to  be  a  matter  of  this  kind. 


RAYMOND    MACDONALD    ALDEN  305 

the  normal  English  reader  has  his  sense  of  rhythm  set  to  that.  Nothing, 
indeed,  could  be  more  fatal  to  the  right  reading  of  English  metres 
(whether  silent  or  audible)  than  to  fail  to  conceive  of  some  fundamental 
rhythm  as  flowing  ever  underneath  each  poem.  If  each  line  were  to  be 
analysed  by  itself  alone,  verse  would  almost  cease  to  be  verse.  For,  as 
Mr  Omond  puts  it,  '  The  very  same  words,  with  the  very  same  natural 
stresses,  may  be  prose  or  verse  according  as  we  treat  them.  The 
difference  is  in  ourselves,  in  the  mental  rhythm  to  which  we  uncon- 
sciously adjust  the  words1.'  Another  admirable  statement  which  bears 
on  our  whole  subject. 

In  the  last  place,  I  wish  to  apply  our  principle  to  one  more  mooted 
question,  the  problem  of  the  at  once  temporal  and  syllabic  character  of 
the  metrical  foot  in  iambic  pentameter.  In  the  general  literature  of 
English  metrics,  we  sometimes  find  the  foot  defined  as  a  time-interval, 
and  sometimes  as  a  group  of  two  or  three  syllables  unified  by  an  accent. 
The  latter  idea,  which  for  a  long  time  prevailed  because  it  is  so  easily 
handled  in  a  superficially  pedagogical  fashion,  has  had  its  weaknesses 
abundantly  revealed  by  recent  criticism.  It  has  been  shown  that  the 
time-interval  is  the  only  constant  unit  which  may  logically  be  postulated 
of  rhythm,  and  that  the  boundaries  of  these  time-intervals  do  not  by 
any  means  correspond  with  exactness  to  those  which  divide  syllables 
into  pairs2.  On  the  other  hand,  the  great  majority  of  metrists,  in- 
cluding such  skilled  expositors  as  Professor  Mayor  and  Professor 
Saintsbury,  continue  to  divide  double  or  dissyllabic  metres  into  pairs  of 
syllables,  treating  these  as  approximately  equivalent  to  metrical  '  feet.' 
What  is  even  more  important,  this  habit  of  thought  can  be  shown  to 
have  some  warrant  in  the  practice  of  the  poets  who  write  in  our 
standard  metre,  iambic  pentameter.  For  all  students  of  verse  learnj 
despite  what  they  are  told  of  the  liberty  of  'substitution'  or  'equiva- 
lence '  in  our  prosody,  that  in  this  metre  they  may  not  expect  to  find 
lines  of  fewer  than  the  normal  ten  syllables.  Why  is  this  ?  I  know  of 
but  one  possible  explanation :  that  the  poets  themselves  have  a  syllabic 
conception  of  at  least  this  metre,  and  its  constituent  units. 

In  this  connection  one  should  recall  an  important  remark  made  by 
Mr  Robert  Bridges  :  '  Of  every  line  [of  heroic  verse]  the  hearer  can  say 
at  once  of  how  many  syllables  it  is  composed,  whether  of  nine,  ten, 

1  The  Academy,  Oct.  10,  1908. 

2  See,  for  instance,  Mr  Omond's  discussion  of  the  matter  in  A  Study  of  Metre,  which 
might  be  summarised  in  the  remark  that  'time-spaces  exist  apart  from  the  syllables 
embedded  in  them '  (page  53),  and  M.  Verrier's  evidence  to  the  effect  that  he  found  fairly 
equal  intervals  between  stressed  vowel  and  stressed  vowel,  as  distinguished  from  measuring 
from  syllable  to  syllable. 


306  The  Mental  Side  of  Metrical  Form 

eleven,  or  twelve.  But  he  will  not  observe  a  variety  in  the  number  of 
stresses  in  the  same  way,... nor  will  the  hearer  be  able  to  say  readily  at 
the  close  of  any  line  how  many  true  stresses  it  contained.  This  is 
syllabic  verse.  Of  stressed  verse  exactly  the  contrary  is  true.... Hearer 
and  reader  alike  are  indifferent  as  to  the  number  of  syllables  which  go 
to  make  the  line ;  nor,  as  each  line  is  read,  can  they  say  how  many 
syllables  have  gone  to  make  it.  But  if  a  stress  be  omitted,  they  per- 
ceive the  rhythm  to  be  unsatisfactory1.'  Now  I  cannot  follow  Mr  Bridges 
in  the  inference  he  draws  from  these  statements,  nor  do  I  think  it 
accurate  to  say  (or  to  imply)  that  an  omitted  stress  is  necessarily 
unsatisfactory  in  lyrical  measures  but  a  matter  of  indifference  in  the 
pentameter.  In  both  cases  the  omitted  stress  may  occur,  and  in  either 
case  it  may  be  accounted  for  by  the  undisturbed  concept  of  regular 
stresses  which  has  already  been  discussed.  But  I  take  it  that  the  main 
fact  set  forth  by  Mr  Bridges,  the  peculiar  evidences  of  the  syllabic 
concept  of  metrical  form  which  appear  in  the  '  heroic '  metre,  is  un- 
deniable. On  the  other  hand  I  believe  it  has  been  abundantly  shown 
that  this  metre  does  not  lie  outside  the  general  scope  of  the  rhythmical 
laws  governing  our  poetry, — that  of  theoretically  equal  time-intervals 
included.  We  have  here,  then,  two  different  concepts  existing  simul- 
taneously, neither  of  which  is  perfectly  represented  in  the  phonetic 
actuality.  They  may  be  in  no  way  inconsistent  with  each  other,  but  at 
times  they  are.  In  the  line  '  The  one  remains,  the  many  change  and 
pass,'  it  might  be  said  that  the  syllabic  and  the  temporal  concepts  of 
the  first  four  syllables  (or  two  feet)  exactly  coincide ;  whereas  in  the 
case  of  the  next  four  syllables  they  are  somewhat  at  variance.  I  shall 
not  court  controversy  by  attempting  to  analyse  the  line  further2,  or  to 
indicate  just  how  it  should  be  uttered.  But  I  feel  sure  that  for  one 
group  of  readers  the  temporal  foot-concept  would  dominate,  and  tend 
to  influence  the  vocal  rendering ;  that  for  another  the  syllabic  concept 
would  dominate,  with  a  slighter  tendency  to  influence  the  actual 
reading ;  and  that  for  some  of  us,  who  have  interested  ourselves  in  the 
conflicting  cross-currents  of  metrical  theory  and  their  historical  develop- 
ment, both  concepts  are  present,  and  both,  in  a  sense,  are  justified. 
Moreover,  I  believe  that  we  cannot  understand  or  teach  the  nature  of 
this  extraordinary  '  heroic  '  metre,  and  its  place  in  the  poetry  of  the 
race,  until  we  notice  and  admit  the  existence  side  by  side  of  the  habit 
of  mental  syllabification  of  its  iambic  feet  (which  is  easy  to  account  for 

1  Milton's  Prosody,  pp.  111—112. 

2  Its  scansion  is  discussed  by  Mr  Omond  in  A  Study  of  Metre,  p.  79. 


RAYMOND    MACUONALD    ALDEN  307 

historically)  and  the  apprehension  of  their  temporal — or  more  purely 
rhythmical — character l. 

These  are  some  of  the  ways  in  which  we  may  trace  the  workings  of- 
the  general  principle  that  there  is  a  mental  side  to  metrical  ideas 
which  often  may,  and  sometimes  must,  be  distinguished  from  the 
physical  or  auditive  side.  Of  course  none  of  the  instances  I  have  noted 
are  discoveries  newly  announced,  but  I  have  brought  them  together 
because  it  seems  to  me  that  their  common  significance  has  been 
inadequately  recognised.  When  I  began  the  study  of  metrics,  some 
years  ago,  I  felt,  like  most  others  who  have  a  strong  interest  in  the 
rhythm  of  poetry,  that  I  perceived  the  real  metrical  forms  which  the 
poets  had  in  mind,  that  my  reading  of  their  lines  agreed  wi£h  my  per- 
ceptions, and  that  in  time  I  should  be  able  to  persuade  all  who  would 
listen  to  me  that  my  interpretations  were  right.  I  also  hoped,  before 
anything  of  the  kind  had  been  done,  or  at  any  rate  reported,  to  devise 
some  physical  apparatus  by  which  I  could  record  the  right  reading  of 
verse,  and  show  that  my  views  of  its  nature  were  supported  by  phonetics. 
Fortunately  or  unfortunately,  neither  my  mechanical  skill  nor  that  of 
the  friends  from  whom  I  sought  help  was  equal  to  the  creation  of  such 
devices  as  are  now  common  in  psychological  laboratories.  But  I  was 
gradually  consoled  by  becoming  conscious,  first,  that  even  if  I  made 
accurate  records  of  my  own  reading  of  verse,  nothing  would  be  proved 
for  the  reading  of  any  one  else ;  further,  that  if  I  obtained  records 
from  several  good  readers,  it  was  by  no  means  certain  that  they  would 
be  identical  in  effect ;  and  finally,  that  in  case  the  physical  facts  should 
go  contrary  to  the  theories  of  myself  and  others,  we  might  still  be 
unconvinced  that  our  theories  were  wrong.  All  these  suspicions  have 
been  abundantly  verified  by  the  reception  which  the  researches  of 
M.  Verrier  and  others  have  met  with.  I  must  repeat  that  I  am  far, 
from  scorning  such  researches ;  if  they  can  ever  be  accumulated  to  an 
extent  which  will  make  generalisation  at  all  safe,  and  enable  us  to 
discard  the  errors  of  the  personal  equation,  I  still  suppose  that  much 
will  have  been  gained.  But  in  the  meantime,  while  the  psychologists 
are. helping  us  to  study  metrics  on  the  physical  side,  shall  we  not  also 
have  to  call  on  them  for  aid  in  considering  its  more  purely  psychical 
aspects  ?  Perhaps  in  time  they  will  be  able  to  show  us  why  it  is  that 
Mr  Saintsbury  finds  iambic  and  trochaic  metres  as  different  as  blue  and 
orange,  while  Mr  Thomson  (breathing  the  same  northern  air)  perceives 

1  On  this  matter  I  may  refer  to  some  further  remarks  in  my  Introduction  to  Poetry 
(1909),  pp.  239  and  272  (notes). 


308  The  Mental  Side  of  Metrical  Form 

no  difference  save  what  may  be  expressed  by  indicating  an  anacrusis  or 
'  catch ' ;  why  I  persist  in  feeling  and  trying  to  express  equal  time- 
intervals,  even  when  reading  Milton  and  Shakespeare,  while  my 
neighbour  feels  them  in  lyrical  measures  but  abandons  them  in  blank 
verse.  In  some  cases  a  study  of  the  personal  equation  might  help ;  in 
some  cases  psychology  might  show  that  one  concept  is,  on  the  whole, 
normal  and  the  other  abnormal;  in  still  others  (as  I  have  tried  to 
suggest  in  the  case  of  the  last  topic  which  has  been  -considered  in  this 
paper),  it  might  show  that  both  concepts,  though  at  variance,  may  be 
held  in  consciousness  simultaneously. 

At  any  rate,  some  attention  to  this  aspect  of  metrics  may  further 
the  development  of  the  most  important  condition  of  progress  in  any 
science,  the  open  mind.  This,  it  is  to  be  feared,  has  not  been  the 
characteristic  grace  of  the  students  of  our  subject.  The  '  trochaisers,' 
says  Mr  Saintsbury  (meaning  all  who  can  read  iambic  verse  as  trochaic, 
on  a  pinch),  are  '  prosodically  rhythm-deaf.'  Those  who  scan  by  tra- 
ditional feet,  says  M.  Verrier  (including,  of  course,  Mr  Saintsbury), 
are  like  the  German  naturalist  who  retired  into  his  study  to  construct 
the  idea  of  a  camel  from  his  inner  consciousness.  M.  Verrier,  says 
Mr  Rudmose-Brown,  is  guilty  of  errors  which  '  work  havoc  with  all 
sanity,'  which  become  '  the  merest  and  most  pernicious  nonsense.' 
Mr  Bridges,  says  Mr  Thomson,  exhibits  misty  preconceptions  '  which 
would  be  at  once  dispelled  by  an  appeal  to  the  ear  and  to  ordinary 
observation.'  These  are  the  compliments  which  we  prosodists  exchange. 
But  it  is  not  by  their  aid  that  science  is  furthered  or  converts  made. 
Perhaps,  I  suggest  finally,  psychology  ^nay  help  us  to  recognise  that  any 
concept  of  rhythm  held  by  a  presumably  competent  reader  of  poetry  is 
in  itself  one  of  the  phenomena  on  which  the  whole  science  of  metrical 
form  must  be  based. 

RAYMOND  MACDONALD  ALDEN. 

URBANA,  ILLINOIS,  U.S.A. 


'PALAMON   AND  ARCITE'  AND  THE 
'KNIGHTES   TALE1.' 

III.    GENERAL  CHANGES. 

Very  common  and  characteristic  is  the  substitution  of  ornate 
synonyms  for  simple  names  or  words.  '  Due  Perotheus '  (K.  344)  becomes 
'this  young  Thessalian  Prince'  (P1.  368);  'Dyane'  (K.  824)  becomes 
'the  Goddess  of  the  Silver  Bow'  (P2.  232);  and  again,  'Dyane  of 
chastitee  '  (K.  1054)  is  paraphrased  as  '  Queen  of  Night,  Who  takes 
in  Sylvan  Sports  her  chaste  Delight '  (P2.  465 — 6).  Emily  has  various 
synonyms,  such  as  '  the  blameless  Maid '  (P3.  249),  '  the  Royal  Virgin  ' 
(P3.  283) ;  while  Theseus  appears  as  '  th'  Athenian  Chief  (P3.  484), '  the 
Royal  Judge '  (P3.  658),  and  '  he,  their  King  '  (P3.  893).  Palarnon  and 
Arcite  are  each  called  'the  Captive  Knight'  (P1.  371,  P2.  3);  while 
Arcite,  according  to  circumstances,  becomes  '  the  victor  Knight ' 
(P3.  687),  and  'the  Dead'  (P3.  895).  'The  hevene '  (K.  1703)  is 
changed  into  'the  vaulted  Firmament'  (P3.  524);  '  melodye  '  (K.  1707) 
becomes  'the  Warlike  Symphony'  (P3.  529);  'estward'  (K.  1727)  is 
'  the  Rising  Sun '  (P3.  563).  '  The  brest '  (K.  1941)  is  dignified  as  '  the 
Seat  of  Life  '  (P3.  838),  and  the  fauns  (K.  2070)  as  '  the  Woodland 
Train '  (P3.  967). 

Simple  and  natural  phrases  are  made  artificial  and  rhetorical.  '  To 
love'  becomes  'serve  the  Fair'  (P2.  150),  or  'aspiring  to  the  Bed  of 
(P2.  284).  '  A  brook  '  (K.  835)  is  '  the  Crystal  Flood  '  (P2.  240).  '  Sle  ' 
(K.  864)  is  conventionalised  into  '  sheath  the  Sword  of  Justice  on ' 
(P2.  271).  '  Ride  '  (K.  1301)  is  'bestride  the  Steed  '  (P3.  66),  and  '  go 
to  reste'  (K.  1632)  is  'compose  their  Bodies  in  Sleep'  (P3.  434). 
Yellow  hair  becomes  '  Amber-colour'd '  (P3.  72).  and  a  high  nose 
'  aquiline  '  (P3.  74).  '  Fyve  and  twenty  yeer '  (K.  1314)  is  paraphrased 
as  '  Nature's  youthful  Prime'  (P3.  82),  and  'gan  she  hye  '  (K.  1416)  as 

1  Concluded  from  p.  172. 


310       ' Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  'Knightes  Tale' 

'  address'd  her  early  Steps  '  (P3.  191).  The  direct  'I  wolde  have  fully 
possessioun  of  Emelye  '  (K.  1384)  is  conventionalised  into  'in  my  divine 
Emilia  make  me  blest '  (P3.  161).  '  And  ever  mo,  un-to  that  day  I  dye  ' 
(K.  1554)  is  expanded  into  a  couplet : 

And  while  these  Limbs  the  Vital  Spirit  feeds, 

While  Day  to  Night,  and  Night  to  Day  succeeds.         P3.  345 — 6. 

Passages  of  simple  beauty  and  pathos  are  often  made  artificial 
and  unnatural.  When  Palamon  from  his  dungeon  caught  sight  of 
Emily  walking  in  the  garden,  he  thought  she  was  the  goddess  Venus, 
and  fell  on  his  knees,  and  said  : 

Venus,  if  it  be  thy  wil 
Yow  in  this  gardyn  thus  to  transfigure 
Bifore  me,  sorweful,  wrecche  creature.  K.  246 — 8. 

The  pathetic  humility  and  melancholy  of  the  last  line  are  lost  in  the 
artificial 

If  thou  art  Venus,  (for  thy  Charms  confess 

That  Face  was  form'd  in  Heav'n)  nor  art  thou  less; 

Disguis'd  in  Habit,  undisguis'd  in  Shape.  P1.  262 — 4. 

Among  many  examples  of  the  vicious  taste  of  the  period  one  of  the 
worst  is  Dryden's  treatment  of  the  poignant  pathos  of  Arcite's  dying 
words  to  Emily : 

Alias,  the  wo!  alias,  the  peynes  stronge, 

That  I  for  yow  have  suffred,  and  so  longe ! 

Alias,  the  deeth  !  alias,  myn  Emelye ! 

Alias,  departynge  of  our  compaignye  !  K.  1913 — 16. 

This  heart-broken  sob  is  too  simple  for  eighteenth  century  rhetoric. 
It  masquerades  in  courtly  patches  and  brocade  as 

How  I  have  lov'd,  excuse  my  faltring  Tongue, 

My  Spirits  feeble,  and  my  Pains  are  strong: 

This  I  may  say,  I  only  grieve  to  die 

Because  I  lose  my  charming  Emily. 

To  die,  when  Heav'n  had  put  you  in  my  Pow'r, 

Fate  could  not  chuse  a  more  malicious  Hour!  P3.  786—91. 

Very  characteristic  of  Dryden's  method  is  the  embellishment  of 
passages  that  seemed  bare  and  unadorned.  Two  typical  instances  must 
suffice.  Theseus'  illustration  of  the  mutability  of  things  from  the  oak, 
as  Chaucer  writes  it,  is  impressive  in  its  simplicity : 

Loo  the  ook,  that  hath  so  long  a  norisshynge 

Fro  tyme  that  it  first  bigynneth  sprynge, 

And  hath  so  long  a  lif  as  we  may  see, 

Yet  at  the  laste  wasted  is  the  tree.  K.  2159-62. 


W.    H.    WILLIAMS  311 

This  appears  in  Dryden,  admirably  expressed,  but  with  an  effect 
of  a  totally  different  kind, 

The  Monarch  Oak,  the  Patriarch  of  the  Trees, 

Shoots  rising  up,  and  spreads  by  slow  Degrees: 

Three  Centuries  he  grows,  and  three  he  stays, 

Supreme  in  State;  and  in  three  more  decays.  P3.  1058—61. 

In  the  assembly  convened  at  Athens  after  the  death  of  Arcite,  when 
Theseus  had  sent  for  Palamon  and  Emily — 

Whan  they  were  set,  and  hust  was  al  the  place, 

And  Theseus  abiden  hadde  a  space 

Er  any  word  cam  from  his  wise  brest, 

His  eyen  sette  he  ther  as  was  his  lest, 

And  with  a  sad  visage  he  siked  stille, 

And  after  that  right  thus  he  seyde  his  wille.  K.  2123—8. 

Dryden  describes  the  scene  thus : 

And  first  soft  Whispers  through  th'  Assembly  went: 

With  silent  Wonder  then  they  watch'd  th'  Event: 

All  hush'd,  the  King  arose  with  awful  Grace, 

Deep  Thought  was  in  his  Breast,  and  Counsel  in  his  Face. 

At  length  he  sigh'd;  and  having  first  prepar'd 

Th'  attentive  Audience,  thus  his  Will  declar'd.          P3.  1018—23. 

Dryden  often  loses  the  racy  and  humorous  touches  of  the  original 
by  '  dignifying '  what  he  thought  low.  When  Theseus  found  Palamon 
and  Arcite  fighting,  he  said : 

But  this  is  yet  the  beste  game  of  alle, 

That  she,  for  whom  they  han  this  jolitee, 

Can  hem  ther-fore  as  muche  thank  as  me. 

She  woot  namore  of  al  this  hoote  fare, 

By  God,  than  woot  a  cokkow  or  an  hare.  K.  948 — 52. 

Dryden's  paraphrase  completely  loses  the  spirit  of  the  passage : 

This  is  not  all ;  the  Fair  for  whom  they  strove 

Nor  knew  before,  nor  could  suspect  their  Love, 

Nor  thought,  when  she  beheld  the  Fight  from  far, 

Her  Beauty  was  th'  Occasion  of  the  War.  P2.  374—7. 

Grandiloquent  or  hyperbolical  language  is  frequently  substituted 
for  the  simple  and  homely  vernacular  of  the  original.  In  K.  1710  the 
city  before  the  tournament  was  hanged  'nat  with  sarge.'  In  P3.  535 
this  is  changed  into  '  Horses  Hoofs,  for  Earth,  on  Silken  Tap'stry  tread.' 
After  the  victory  of  Arcite  the  heralds  'yolle  and  crie'  (K.  1814). 
Dryden  dignifies  this  into  'Arcite,  Arcite,  Heav'n  and  Earth  resound' 
(P3.  684).  The  racy  '  Farewel,  phisik !  go  ber  the  man  to  chirche ! ' 
becomes 

For  Physick  can  but  mend  our  crazie  State, 

Patch  an  old  Building,  not  a  new  create.  P3.  768 — 9. 


312       l  Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  lKnightes  Tale' 

Despite  the  precedent  of  Homeric  heroes  Palamon's  'howling'  at  the 
funeral  of  Arcite  (K.  1959)  is  too  undignified  for  the  taste  of  Dryden's 
time.  Not  only  the  language  but  the  fact  is  changed : 

In  Palamon  a  manly  Grief  appears ; 

Silent  he  wept,  asham'd  to  shew  his  Tears.  P3.  854—5. 

Expressions  or  incidents  displeasing  to  modern  taste  are  altered. 
Thus  in  the  frescoes  on  the  wall  of  the  temple  of  Mars  Chaucer  sees 
'The  sowe  freten  the  child  right  in  the  erode!'  (K.  1161).  Dryden 
changes  this  into  '  The  new-born  Babe  by  Nurses  overlaid '  (P2.  590). 
So  Actseon's  hounds  'freten  hym '  in  K.  1210,  but  'their  mistaken 
Master  slew '  in  P2.  630.  Emily's  vow  to  Diana,  '  Ne  nevere  wol  I  be  no 
love,  ne  wyf  (K.  1448),  takes  the  form  of  'Nor  know  the  Name  of 
Mother  or  of  Wife '  (P3.  224). 

A  '  pointed '  couplet  is  sometimes  substituted  for  a  simple  collo- 
quialism. So,  when  the  Knight  marks  the  transition  from  the 
preparations  for  the  tournament  to  the  prayers  of  Palamon  and  Arcite 
by  saying  to  his  audience  '  now  cometh  the  point,  and  herkneth  if  yow 
leste  '  (K.  1350),  Dryden  substitutes  this  : 

The  Rivals  call  my  Muse  another  Way, 

To  sing  their  Vigils  for  th'  ensuing  Day.  P3.  117 — 8. 

Dryden  is  especially  fond  of  filling  in  an  outline,  or  elaborating  a 
sketch  into  a  picture.  Thus,  '  the  smylere,  with  the  knyf  under  the 
cloke'  (K.  1141),  becomes 

Next  stood  Hypocrisie,  with  holy  Lear: 

Soft,  smiling,  and  demurely  looking  down, 

But  hid  the  Dagger  underneath  the  Gown.  P2.  564 — 6. 

'The  slaughtre  of  Julius'  (K.  1173)  is  developed  into  '  Mars  his  Ides, 
the  Capitol,  The  Seer  in  vain  foretelling  Caesars  fall'  (P2.  604—5). 
'Sampsoun  shakynge  the  piler'  (K.  1608)  is  enlarged  into  'when 
Pillar d  Hall  Fell  down,  and  crush 'd  the  Many  with  the  Fall'  (P3. 416—7). 
A  London  crowd  must  have  suggested  to  Dryden  this  expansion  of 
'Unto  the  seettes  preesseth  al  the  route'  (K.  1722): 

Scarce  were  they  seated,  when  with  Clamours  loud 

In  rush'd  at  once  a  rude  promiscuous  Crowd  : 

The  Guards,  and  then  each  other  overbare, 

And  in  a  Moment  throng  the  spacious  Theatre.  P3.  550 — 3. 

A  scene  or  picture  is  often  developed  from  a  single  word  or  phrase. 
Thus,  from  the  word  'huntyng'  in  K.  1197  Dryden  developes  the  full 
scene  in  detail : 


W.    H.    WILLIAMS  313 

A  Sylvan  Scene  with  various  Greens  was  drawn, 
Shades  on  the  Sides,  and  on  the  midst  a  Lawn: 
The  Silver  Cynthia,  with  her  Nymphs  around, 
Pursu'd  the  flying  Deer,  the  Woods  with  horns  resound. 

P2.  619—22. 

'  Yet  song  the  larke '  (K.  1354)  supplies  the  picture  (unfortunately  not 
true  to  nature) : 

The  tuneful  Lark  already  stretch'd  her  Wing, 

And  flick'ring  on  her  Nest,  made  short  Essays  to  sing. 

P3.  122—3. 

Perhaps  the  most  flagrant  instance  is  the  elaboration  of  the  simple  line, 
'tho  sente  Theseus  for  Emelye'  (K.  2122),  into  the  artificial  passage, 

The  Monarch  mounts  the  Throne,  and  plac'd  on  high,      ^ 

Commands  into  the  Court  the  beauteous  Emily : 

So  call'd,  she  came;  the  Senate  rose,  and  paid 

Becoming  Rev'rence  to  the  Royal  Maid.  P3.  1014—17. 

Occasionally  mythological  allusions  are  expanded  and  made  more 
explicit.  Thus,  in  K.  1224,  Diana  is  said  to  cast  her  eyes  down  '  ther 
Pluto  hath  his  derke  regioun.'  This  is  explained,  in  P2.  651,  'as  seeming 
to  survey  The  dark  Dominions,  her  alternate  Sway/ 

Some  changes  are  due  to  the  desire  for  symmetry,  parallelism,  or 
contrast.  After  describing  Lycurgus,  the  champion  of  Palamon,  Chaucer 
introduces  Emetreus  simply  as  coming  'with  Arcita'  (K.  1297),  but 
Dryden  adds  the  antithetical  phrase  '  to  match  this  Monarch '  (P3.  62). 
The  description  of  his  freckles,  'Bitwixen  yelow  and  somdel  blak 
y-rneynd'  (K.  1.312),  becomes  'Whose  Dusk  set  off  the  Whiteness  of 
the  Skin'  (P3.  77).  Saturn's  'drenchyng  in  the  see  so  wan,'  and  'prison 
in  the  derke  cote '  (K.  1598 — 9),  are  antithetically  expressed  as 


Mine  is  the  Shipwreck,  in  the  Wat'ry  Sign; 
And  in  an  Earthy,  the  dark  Dungeon  mine. 


ps.  401—2. 


Vague,  allusive,  or  obscure  expressions  are  made  more  explicit  and 
developed  into  circumstantial  detail.  'And  dide  with  al  the  contree  as 
hym  leste '  (K.  146),  said  of  Theseus  after  the  capture  of  Thebes,  is 
explained  as  'The  Country  wasted  and  the  Hamlets  burn'd'  (P1.  138). 
The  entry  to  the  temple  of  Mars  is  '  gastly  for  to  see '  (K.  1126).  This 
becomes  'blind  with  high  Walls;  and  Horrour  over  Head'  (P2.  549). 
Conquest,  '  sittynge  in  greet  honour'  (K.  1170),  is  developed  into 
'with  Shouts,  and  Soldiers  Acclamations  grac'd '  (P2.  601).  The 
allusive  'for  which  Dyane  wroghte  hym  care  and  wo'  (K.  1214), 
with  reference  to  Meleager's  mother  burning  the  brand  which  sym- 
bolised his  life,  is  expanded  into 


M.  L.  R.  IX, 


21 


314      'Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  'Knightes  Tale' 

Diana's  Vengeance  on  the  Victor  shown ; 

The  Murdress  Mother,  and  consuming  Son.  P2.  637 — 8. 

Similarly,  the  general  is  often  developed  into  the  explicit.  '  Wonder 
longe'  (K.  796)  becomes  'two  long  Hours'  (P2.  198).  'Hir  servyse' 
(K.  945)  is  defined  as,  '  for  seven  long  Years,  on  Duty  ev'ry  Day ' 
(P2.  368).  Arcite's  grief  at  losing  the  sight  of  Emily  when  he  escaped 
to  Thebes  is  expressed  in  general  terms : 

So  muche  sorwe  hadde  nevere  creature 

That  is,  or  shal,  whil  that  the  world  may  dure.  K.  501—2. 

This  loses  immeasurably  in  expressiveness,  and  becomes  melodramatic, 
when  particularised : 

He  rav'd  with  all  the  Madness  of  Despair, 

He  roar'd,  he  beat  his  Breast,  he  tore  his  Hair.  P1.  522 — 3. 

The  god  of  love  can  make  '  Of  everich  herte  as  that  hym  list  devyse ' 
(K.  932).  This  is  specialised  into 

He  blinds  the  Wise,  gives  Eye-sight  to  the  Blind; 

And  moulds  and  stamps  anew  the  Lover's  Mind.          P2.  354 — 5. 

Such  a  place  as  the  lists  constructed  by  Theseus  for  the  tournament 
'  was  noon  in  erthe '  (K.  1038),  but,  according  to  Dryden,  '  Rome  never 
saw'  (P2.  451). 

Sometimes  the  materials  are  re-arranged  in  an  order  more  regular 
and  logical,  or  more  pointed  and  rhetorical,  than  the  natural  and 
unaffected  style  of  the  original.  After  mentioning  Theseus'  banner 
(K.  108),  Chaucer  has  eight  lines  describing  his  journey,  and  in  the 
next  paragraph  (K.  117)  returns  to  the  banner,  which  is  then  described. 
Dryden  brings  the  mention  and  the  description  of  the  banner  together 
(P1.  108 — 14).  In  the  s'cenes  pourtrayed  on  the  walls  of  the  temple  of 
Diana  (K.  1193—1230)  the  story  of  Daphne  (P2.  631—2)  is  transposed 
so  as  to  bring  Actaeon  (P2.  625 — 30)  into  closer  connexion  with  Diana. 
In  P3.  403 — 7  Dryden  transposes  K.  1609  so  as  to  bring  'maladyes 
colde '  into  connexion  with  the  other  physical  manifestations.  In  the 
description  of  the  tournament  the  position  of  the  line  '  the  jelous  strokes 
on  hir  helmes  byte'  (K.  1776)  is  changed  to  follow  K.  1767,  to  finish 
the  account  of  the  contest  between  Palamon  and  Arcite  before  beginning 
the  simile  of  the  lion  and  the  tiger;  and  the  wounding  of  Emetreus 
(K.  1787 — 9)  is  placed  before  the  capture  of  Palamon  and  the  unhorsing 
of  Lycurgus  (K.  1780 — 6)  to  keep  together  the  account  of  Emetreus 
(P3.  640—7). 


W.    H.    WILLIAMS  315 

Sometimes  the  abstract  is  turned  into  the  concrete,  as  when  'the 
tresoun  of  the  mordrynge  in  the  bedde '  (K.  1143)  becomes 

Th'  assassinating  Wife,  the  Houshold  Fiend; 

And  for  the  blackest  there,  the  Traytor-Friend.  P2.  567—8. 

The  general  is  often  specialised,  and,  conversely,  the  special 
generalised.  As  examples  of  the  first  change  we  find  '  smale  houndes ' 
(K.  1218)  converted  into  'little  Beagles'  (P2.  644).  'Newe  gyse ' 
(K.  1267)  becomes 

This  on  his  Helmet  wore  a  Ladies  Glove, 

And  that  a  Sleeve  embroider'd  by  his  Love.  P3.  36 — 7. 

The  hundred  lords  who  accompanied  Arcite  armed  '  ful  richely  in  alle 
maner  thynges'  (K.  1323)  have  'Words  and  Devices  blaz'd  on  ev'ry 
Shield'  in  P3.  92.  The  'craftes  stronge'  of  Mars  (K.  1551)  appear  as 
'War,  and  stern  Debate,  and  Strife  Immortal'  (P3.  339);  and  the 
'maladyes  colde '  of  Saturn  as  'Cold  shivering  Agues,... throtling 
Quinsey,...Kheumatisms'  (P3.  403 — 7).  The  squires  in  Chaucer  were 
'  no  thyng  ydel '  in  preparing  for  the  tournament  (K.  1647).  Dryden 
specifies  their  occupations : 

another  held  the  Lance : 
A  third  the  shining  Buckler  did  advance.  P3.  455 — 6. 

When  the  Greeks  rode  thrice  round  the  fire  '  with  a  loud  shoutynge ' 
(K.  2095),  it  is  ' Arcite s  name  they  thrice  resound,'  in  P3.  993.  'Who 
that  baar  hym  best  in  euery  poinct '  at  the  funeral  games  (K.  2104),  in 
Dryden  'with  Gantlets  gave  or  took  the  Foil'  (P3.  1001). 

The  converse  substitution  of  the  general  for  the  special  is  also 
frequently  found.  The  statue  of  Mars  '  bigan  his  hauberk  rynge '  in 
K.  1573,  but  'clash'd  his  Arms'  in  P3.  370.  The  'stranglyng  and 
hangyng  by  the  throte '  (K.  1600),  which  Saturn  claims  as  one  of  his 
prerogatives,  is  weakened  into  '  wilful  Death,  resulting  from  Despair ' 
(P3.  405).  ' Al  that  Monday'  (K.  1628),  when  they  joust  and  dance 
before  the  tournament,  loses  some  of  its  realism  as  'all  the  Day'  in 
P3.  431.  In  K.  1656  groups  of  people  walk  up  and  down  in  the  palace^ 
'heere  thre,  ther  ten,'  but  in  P3.  470  'In  Knots  they  stand,  or  in  a 
Rank  they  walk.'  The  '  drynke  of  herbes '  (K.  1890)  that  foiled  to  help 
Arcite  becomes  'inward  Remedies'  (P3.  756);  just  as  the  cloth  of  gold 
spread  on  his  funeral  pyre  (K.  2078)  becomes  '  rich  Array '  (P3.  977). 

Diffuse  phrases  are  frequently  condensed.  So,  'the  mynstralcye, 
the  service  at  the  feaste...the  riche  array  of  Theseus  paleys'  (K.  1339— 

21—2 


316       ' Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  'Knightes  Tale' 

41),  is  abbreviated  into  '  The  Royal  Treat '  (P3.  111).  Palamon's  prayer 
to  Venus  that  he  may  win  Emily  though  he  lose  the  victory : 

I  recche  nat,  but  it  may  bettre  be, 

To  have  victorie  of  hem,  or  they  of  me, 

So  that  I  have  my  lady  in  myne  armes,  K.  1387 — 9. 

is  reduced  to  one  line,  '  Possession,  more  than  Conquest,  is  my  Care ' 
(P3.  164).  So,  when  Emily  prays  to  Diana  to  quench  'al  hire  hoote 
love  and  hir  desir,  And  al  hir  bisy  torment  and  hir  fir '  (K.  1461 — 2) 
the  effective  tautology  is  lost  in  '  their  not  Fire  '  (P3.  236).  A  striking 
instance  is  the  reduction  of  '  Pypes,  trompes,  nakers,  clariounes ' 
(K.  1653),  to  the  single  word  'Trumpets'  (P3.  464).  Sometimes  the 
condensation  may  be  regarded  as  an  improvement,  as  when  the  rather 
diffuse  and  tautological  sentence 

Considereth  eek  how  that  the  harde  stoon 

Under  oure  feet,  on  which  we  trede  and  goon, 

Yit  wasteth  it.  as  it  lyth  by  the  weye,  K.  2163—5. 

is  more  tersely  expressed  as  '  So  wears  the  paving  Pebble  in  the  Street ' 
(P3.  1062).  But  at  other  times  much  of  the  poetry  and  pathos 
evaporates  in  the  compression,  as  when 

That  gentle  Palamon,  thyn  owene  knyght, 
That  serveth  yow  with  wille,  herte,  and  myght, 
And  evere  hath  doon,  syn  that  ye  first  hym  kriewe, 

K.  2219—22. 
is  weakened  into 

Long  Love  to  her  has  born  the  faithful  Knight.  P3.  1123. 

Metaphor  latent  in  the  language  is  sometimes  developed.  When 
the  wrath  of  Theseus  was  appeased  by  the  supplication  of  the  women, 
'  aslaked  was  his  mood,  For  pitee  renneth  soone  in  gentil  herte ' 
(K.  902 — 3).  The  metaphor  implied  in  'aslaked'  is  expanded  into 
'For  yet  his  Rage  was  boiling  in  his  Blood'  (P2.  329);  and  'renneth' 

becomes 

As  softest  Metals  are  not  slow  to  melt, 

And  Pity  soonest  runs  in  gentle  Minds,  P2.  331 — 2. 

Before  the  tournament  Chaucer  says  the  palace  was  full  of  'peples  up 
and  doun'  (K.  1655).  Dryden  turns  this,  not  ineffectively,  into 

The  Palace-yard  is  filled  with  floating  Tides, 

And  the  last  Comers  bear  the  former  to  the  Sides.      P3.  466 — 7. 

Metaphor  is  sometimes  expanded  into  simile.  Theseus  asks,  why 
grudge  the  escape  of  Arcite  from  '  this  foule  prisoun  of  this  lyf '  ? 
(K.  2203).  This,  expressed  as  a  simile,  appears  in  P3.  1105 — 6  as: 

With  Grief  as  just,  a  Friend  may  be  deplor'd, 
From  a  foul  Prison  to  free  Air  restor'd. 


W.    H.    WILLIAMS  317 

The  simile  latent  in  '  I  rede  that  we  make  of  sorwes  two  0  par-fit  loye ' 
(K.  2213 — 4),  is  thus  poetically  developed  : 

Ordain  we  then  two  Sorrows  to  combine, 

And  in  one  Point  th'  Extremes  of  Grief  to  join; 

That  thence  resulting  Joy  may  be  renew'd, 

As  jarring  Notes  in  Harmony  conclude.  P3.  1115 — 8. 

The  allusive  is  sometimes  expanded  into  the  circumstantial.  Mercury 
appears  to  Arcite  in  a  dream  arrayed  '  As  he  was  wrhan  that  Argus  took 
his  sleep '  (K.  532).  The  allusion  is  explained  in  detail  in  P1.  551 — 2 
as  '  when,  at  his  Sire's  command,  On  Argm  Head  he  laid  the  Snaky 
Wand.' 

Passages  are  often  expanded  to  make  the  meaning  more  explicit. 
When  Saturn  endeavoured  to  stay  the  strife  between  Mars  .and  Venus, 
'  Al  be  it  that  it  is  agayn  his  kynde '  (K.  1593),  the  clause  is  para- 
phrased thus: 

Though  sparing  of  his  Grace,  to  Mischief  bent, 

He  seldom  does  a  Good  with  good  Intent.  P3.  383—4. 

Arcite's  '  baner  reed '  (K.  1725)  becomes 

Red  was  his  Banner,  and  display'd  abroad, 

The  bloody  Colours  of  his  Patron  God.  P3.  560—1. 

After  the  tournament  Theseus  '  Conforteth  and  honoureth  every  man ' 
(K.  1858).     This  appears  in  P3.  730—1  as  follows : 

Comforts  the  Sick,  congratulates  the  Sound; 
Honours  the  Princely  Chiefs,  rewards  the  rest. 

The  divine  ordinance  that  the  type  shall  endure  '  by  successiouris,  And 
nat  eterne'  (K.  2156)  is  with  advantage  to  clearness  developed  into  this : 

That  Individuals  die,  his  Will  ordains  ; 

The  propagated  Species  still  remains.  P3.  1056 — 7. 

One  of  the  most  characteristic  features  of  Dryden's  version  is  the 
expansion  and  elaboration  of  simple  expressions.  '  That  hast  the  sighte 
of  hire'  (K.  381)  is  paraphrased  as  'Thou  on  that  Angels  Face  maist 
feed  thy  Eyes'  (P1.  401),  and  'Thou  daily  seest  that  Sun  of  Beauty 
shhie  '  (P1.  403).  When  Chaucer  simply  says  (K.  891—2)  that  Emily 
and  all  the  ladies  in  the  company  began  to  weep,  Dryden  elaborates  the 
passage  into 

Through  the  bright  Quire  th'  infectious  Vertue  ran; 

All  dropp'd  their  Tears,  ev'n  the  contended  Maid.         P2.  313—4. 

'  This  day  fifty  wykes '  (K.  992)  becomes,  with  some  advantage  to  the 

meaning, 

the  Day  when  this  returning  Sun 
To  the  same  Point  through  ev'ry  Sign  has  run.  P2.  407 — 8. 


318       ' Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  'Knightes  Tale' 

1  Sonday  nyght,  er  day  bigan  to  sprynge '  (K.  1351)  is  embellished 
into  : 

'Twas  ebbing  Darkness,  past  the  Noon  of  Night ; 

And  Phospher  on  the  Confines  of  the  Light, 

Promis'd  the  Sun.  P3.  119—21. 

A  remarkable  instance  is  P3.  129 — 44,  where  Dryden  developes  the  line, 
'Faireste  of  faire,  o  lady  myn,  Venus/  into  an  elaborate  apostrophe 
to  the  love-goddess,  consisting  of  sixteen  lines.  When  Palamon 
promises  Venus  that  he  will  her  'trewe  servant  be'  (K.  1377),  Dryden 
makes  him  vow 

In  Love  to  be  thy  Champion,  and  thy  Knight ; 

A  Servant  to  thy  Sex,  a  Slave  to  thee.  P3.  156—7. 

And,  after  praying  Venus  to  let  him  have  his  lady  in  his  arms,  his 
simple  '  and  if  ye  wol  nat  so '  (K.  1396),  is  exaggerated  into 

But  if  you  this  ambitious  Pray'r  deny, 

A  Wish,  I  grant,  beyond  Mortality,  P3.  175—6. 

When  Arcite  pleads  that  he  is  '  yong  and  unkonnynge '  (K.  1535), 
Diyden  cannot  resist  the  temptation  of  translating  the  homely  phrase 
into  the  conventional  language  of  Restoration  gallantry: 

For  I  am  young,  a  Novice  in  the  Trade, 

The  Fool  of  Love,  unpractis'd  to  persuade ; 

And  want  the  soothing  Arts  that  catch  the  Fair.         P3.  325—7. 

Instances  are  almost  innumerable,  but  this,  from  Theseus'  address  to 
Emily,  is  typical  of  Dryden's  method  of '  giving  Beauties '  not  found  in 
the  original.  '  Lat  se  now  of  youre  wommanly  pitee  '  (K.  2225)  is 
embellished  into 

Pity  is  Heav'ns  and  yours:  nor  can  she  find 

A  Throne  so  soft  as  in  a  Woman's  Mind.  P3.  1133—4. 

Vigorous  lines  are  sometimes  diluted  into  couplets  by  weak  additions. 
Thus,  in  the  description  of  the  combatants  in  the  lists,  *  With  myghty 
maces  the  bones  they  to-breste  '  (K.  1753)  is  expanded  into 

The  mighty  Maces  with  such  haste  descend, 

They  break  the  Bones,  and  make  the  solid  Armour  bend. 

P3.  605—6. 

Perhaps  the  worst  example  is  the  change  of  Arcite's  pathetic  wail, 
'  Allone,  withouten  any  compaignye  '  (K.  1921),  into  : 

Never,  O  never  more  to  see  the  Sun ! 

Still  dark,  in  a  damp  Vault,  and  still  alone!  P3.  796—7. 

Archaic  words  and  phrases  are  modernised.  Thus, '  Blast  and  hollow 
Rore '  (P2.  550)  is  substituted  for  '  rage  and  veze '  (K.  1127).  Lycurgus 


W.    H.    WILLIAMS 


319 


looks  like  a  lion  (P3.  43),  instead  of  '  lik  a  griffon'  (K.  1275),  and  his 
'  brawns  '  are  converted  into  sinews  (P3.  45).  Sometimes  the  modernis- 
ing causes  anachronism,  as  when  Dryden  mentions  among  the  frescoes 
on  the  walls  of  the  temple  of  Venus  '  Balls  by  Night '  (P2.  493). 

The  archaic  terms  are  often  paraphrased.  The  day  of  the  tournament 
which  was  'the  bataille  to  dareyne'  (K.  1239)  is  explained  as  the  day 
'  when  Fortune  shou'd  decide  Th'  important  Enterprize,  and  give  the 
Bride '  (P3.  1,  2).  The  '  sparth '  of  one  of  the  combatants  becomes 
a  '  double-biting  Ax,  and  beamy  Spear '  (P3.  480).  The  '  Oo  ! '  of  the 
herald  (K.  1675)  is  explained  as  '  Silence  is  thrice  enjoin'd '  (P3.  496). 

Occasionally  a  more  familiar  instance  is  substituted  for  one  less 
known.  In  the  temple  of  Mars 


Depeynted  was  the  slaughtre  of  Julius, 
Of  grete  Nero,  and  of  Antonius. 


K.  1173—4. 


For  Nero  Dryden  substitutes  '  the  last  Triumvirs,  and  the  Wars  they 
move '  (P2.  606),  perhaps  as  being  more  in  keeping  with  Antony. 

Or  a  modern  analogue  takes  the  place  of  the  original  expression. 
When  the  names  of  the  combatants  were  read  before  the  tournament, 
'That  in  hir  nombre  gyle  were  ther  noon '  (K.  1738),  Dryden,  writing 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  eighteenth  century,  changes  the  expression 
into  this : 

to  shun  with  Care, 
The  Fraud  of  Musters  false,  the  common  Bane  of  War. 

pa.  574—5. 

The  na'ive  exaggerations  of  the  primitive  story  are  often  modified. 
Thus,  the  wreath  of  gold  on  the  head  of  Lycurgus,  '  arm-greet,  of  huge 
wighte  '  (K.  1287),  becomes  merely  '  ample  '  (P3.  53),  and  the  epithet  is 
transferred  to  his  forehead.  So,  his  '  sparth  of  twenty  pound  of  wighte  ' 
(K.  1662),  asks  '  Gygantick  Force  to  rear  '  (P3.  481).  For  the  '  arms  '  of 
the  funeral  pyre  which  stretched  twenty  fathoms  (K.  2058)  is  substituted 
'  the  Bottom '  (P3.  955). 

Similarly,  unusual  characteristics  are  sometimes  normalised.  The 
'  bright  citryn  '  eyes  of  Emetreus  (K.  1309)  become  '  blue '  (P3.  74). 

Technical  terms  are  sometimes  substituted  for  general.  The  'tame' 
eagle,  which  Emetreus  bore  upon  his  '  hand '  in  K.  1319,  becomes 
'  reclaim'd,'  and  is  carried  on  his  '  Fist '  in  P3.  88 — 9.  Chaucer  makes 
Palamon  say  to  Venus  '  Youre  vertu  is  so  greet  in  hevene  above  ' 
(K.  1391);  but  Dryden  translates  this  into  the  jargon  of  astrology  : 


With  smiling  Aspect  you  serenely  move 

In  your  fifth  Orb,  and  rule  the  Realm  of  Love. 


P3.  167—8. 


320       'Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  '  Knightes  Tale' 

Similarly,  '  the  nexte  houre  of  Mars '  (K.  1509)  is  changed  into 

The  next  returning  Planetary  Hour 

Of  Mars,  who  shar'd  the  Heptarchy  of  Pow'r.  P3.  290—1. 

Conversely,  technical  language  is  occasionally  converted  into  con- 
ventional poetic  diction.  The  '  thridde  houre  in-equal '  (K.  1413),  when 
Palamon  went  to  the  temple  of  Venus,  becomes  '  Now  Morn  with  Rosie 
Light  had  streak'd  the  Sky'  (P3.  189). 

Some  changes  are  caused  by  rationalising  or  christianising  the  old 
mythology.  Thus,  in  K.  1441,  Diana  is  called  'Queene  of  the  regne 
of  Pluto,'  being  identified  with  Proserpine.  Dryden  changes  this  to  : 

Queen  of  the  nether  Skies,  where  half  the  Year 

My  silver  Beams  descend,  and  light  the  gloomy  Sphere, 

P3.  217—8, 

with  reference  to  the  moon.     When  Arcite  died,  '  ther  Mars  his  soule 
gye  '  (K.  1957)  becomes  : 

The  Soul  of  Arcite  went,  where  Heathens  go, 

Who  better  live  than  we,  though  less  they  know.          P3.  852 — 3. 

Diffuse  language  is  condensed  and  modernised.  When  the  spectators 
were  walking  up  and  down  before  the  tournament,  discussing  the 
chances  of  the  combatants,  '  some  seyden  thus,  somme  seyde  it  shal  be 
so  '  (K.  1658).  Dryden  renders  this,  '  their  Wagers  back  their  Wishes ' 
(P3.  474).  The  heralds  '  lefte  her  prikyng  up  and  doun '  in  K.  1741,  but 
'  retir'd  '  in  P3.  578.  The  condensation  is  sometimes  apparently  for  the 
sake  of  antithesis,  as  when  '  No  maner  shot,  ne  polax,  ne  short  knyf ' 
(K.  1686)  is  changed  into  'Slings  afar,  and  Ponyards  Hand  to  Hand' 
(P3.  507). 

Details  are  sometimes  changed  to  conform  to  modern  customs.  In 
the  description  of  Arcite's  funeral  Theseus  '  leet  forth  thre  steedes 
brynge '  (K.  2031).  Dryden  changes  this  to  '  the  Steed  that  bore  him 
living  to  the  Fight '  (P3.  930).  Instead  of  being  covered  with  his  arms 
(K.  2033),  it  was  '  cover'd  with  th'  Achievements  of  the  Knight ' 
(P3.  930). 

Some  changes  seem  due  to  misunderstanding  of  the  original.  'Boars' 
is  substituted  (P2.  589)  for  '  bears '  in  the  line  '  The  hunte  strangled 
with  the  wilde  beres '  (K.  1160);  and  'on  his  styth '  (K.  1168)  is 
changed  into  'or  the  Scythe'  (P2.  599).  'A  paire  plates'  (K.  1263) 
is  wrongly  applied  to  the  legs  instead  of  to  the  breast  (P3.  35). 
'  Alauntz '  [i.e.  wolf-hounds]  is  rendered  '  Greyhounds '  in  P3.  55  ;  and 
'  emforth  '  (K.  1377),  a  preposition  meaning  '  according  to,'  suggests 


W.    H.    WILLIAMS 


321 


the  verb  'enforce'  in  P3.  155.  'Men  may  the  olde  at-renne  and  noght 
at-rede  '  (K.  1591)  is  mistranslated  thus : 

For  this  Advantage  Age  from  Youth  has  won, 

As  not  to  be  outridden,  though  outrun.  P3.  387 — 8. 

When  Saturn  swears  to  Venus  '  by  myn  heed '  (K.  1812),  Dryden, 
not  noticing  that  heed  means  '  head/  turns  the  phrase  '  mine  the  Care 
shall  be'  (P3.  681).  In  K.  1831  Arcite's  horse  '  pighte  hym  on  the 
pomel  of  his  heed.'  Dryden,  misunderstanding  pomel  as  the  pommel  of 
a  saddle,  paraphrases  '  o'er  the  Pummel  cast  the  Knight '  (P3.  702). 
After  the  tournament  Theseus  proclaimed  '  the  gre,'  i.e.  the  superiority 
of  one  side  as  well  as  of  the  other  (K.  1875).  In  rendering  this  '  with 
ease  were  reconciled  the  diff'ring  Parts  '  (P3.  745),  Dryden  seems  to  have 
thought  that  the  gre  meant  '  they  agree.' 

Occasionally  the  exigencies  of  the  metre  seem  responsible  for  the 
change,  as  when  the  company  'of  oon  and  oother '  (K.  1715)  proceeds 
'  by  Three  and  Three/  to  rhyme  with  '  Degree '  in  the  next  line 
(ps  540—1). 

One  change  at  least  is  due  to  the  disregard  of  punctuation.  Even 
in  the  text  used  by  Dryden,  and  printed  at  the  end  of  the  '  Fables ' 
(1700),  we  find  the  following  passage  thus  punctuated : 

All  stinten  is  the  m  urn  ing  and  the  teres 

Of  Grekes,   by  one  generall  assent.  K.  2110 — 1. 

But  Dryden  connects  the  last  line  with  the  following  paragraph  thus : 

When,  by  the  Grecians  general  Consent, 

At  Athens  Theseus  held  his  Parliament.  P3.  1006—7. 

Some  changes  are  consequential  on  other  changes.      Arcite,  after 

his  fall, 

was  yet  in  memorie  and  alyve, 
And  alwey  criynge  after  Emelye.  K.  1840 — 1. 

To  be  consistent  with  the  addition  that  they  had  '  lanc'd  a  Vein,  and 
watch'd  returning  Breath '  (P3.  709),  this  is  changed  into 

At  length  he  wak'd,  arid  with  a  feeble  Cry, 

The  Word  he  first  pronounc'd  was  Emily.  P3.  715 — 6. 

'  Al  that  is  engendred  in  this  place'  (K.  2139)  becomes  'those  perish- 
able Forms '  (P3.  1033)  to  agree  with  the  addition  '  though  the  Forms 
decay '  (P3.  1030). 

Some  changes  are  made  to  avoid  repetition.  In  Emily's  prayer 
Niobe  is  substituted  for  Actseon  as  an  example  of  Diana's  vengeance 
(P3.  221),  apparently  because  Actseon  was  similarly  mentioned  before 
in  the  description  of  the  temple  (K.  1207).  The  '  hondred  of  his  parte  ' 
who  entered  the  lists  with  Arcite  (K.  1724)  become  'his  Train' 


322       ' Palamon  and  Arcite'  and  the  'Knightes  Tale' 

(P3.  558)  because  the  number  had  been  mentioned  before  in  '  that 
everich  sholde  an  hundred  knyghtes  brynge '  (K.  1238).  So,  'the 
Women  mix  their  Cries '  (P3.  997)  is  substituted  for  '  And  thries  how 
the  ladyes  gonne  crye '  (K.  2097),  to  avoid  the  repetition  of  '  thrice/ 
already  used  five  times  in  four  lines  (P3.  992 — 5). 

Similarly,  two  phrases  are  sometimes  contracted  into  one  to  avoid 
apparent  repetition.  In  the  preparation  for  the  tournament,  'helmes 
bokelynge...with  layneres  lacynge '  (K.  1645 — 6)  becomes  'one  lac'd 
the  Helm  '  (P3.  455).  In  the  death  scene  of  Arcite,  the  two  lines,  '  Ne 
may  the  venym  voyden  ne  expelle '  (K.  1893),  and  '  Is  shent  with 
venym  and  corrupcioun'  (K.  1896),  are  combined  and  condensed  into 
4 Nor  can  the  Good  receive,  nor  Bad  expel'  (P3.  761).  In  K.  2147 
Chaucer  uses  the  phrase,  '  may  men  wel  discerne,'  and,  in  the  next  line 
but  one,  '  wel  may  men  knoWe.'  Dryden  condenses  both  into  one  word, 
'sure'  (P3.  1041).  So,  'partie,  ne  cantel'  (K.  2150)  becomes  'a  Part' 
(P3.  1044);  and  'duetee  and  honour'  (K.  2202)  becomes  'Honour' 
(P3.  1102). 

Native  words  are  sometimes  superseded  by  latinisms,  especially  by 
Virgilian  phrases.  Thus,  Palamon  addresses  Venus  as  'doughter  of 
Jove '  in  K.  1364,  but  as  '  Increase  of  Jove '  \Iouis  increment  urn]  in 
P3.  146.  Emily's  maidens  have  'the  homes  fulle  of  meeth  '  in  K.  1421. 
In  P3.  195,  'The  plenteous  Horns  with  pleasant  Mead  they  crown* 
[uina  coronant]. 

In  the  foregoing  quotations  it  will  be  seen  that  Dryden  has  sometimes 
the  advantage  over  his  original,  as  might  have  been  expected,  in  logical 
connexion  or  in  force  of  expression :  and  further  examples  of  this  might 
easily  be  cited,  e.g.  the  exclamation  of  Palamon,  P2.  270  f., 

Me  first,  0  kill  me  first,  and  cure  my  woe 
Then  sheath  the  sword  of  justice  on  my  foe  ; 

or  the  reflection  of  Theseus,  P2.  366  f, 

See  how  the  madmen  bleed  !   behold  the  gains 
With  which  their  Master,  Love,  rewards  their  pains  ! 

As  regards  poetical  treatment,  a  good  example  of  his  more  successful 
method  may  be  seen  in  his  description  of  the  temple  of  Venus.  As  it 
stands  in  Chaucer  the  passage  reads  thus : 

Nat  was  foryeten  the  porter  Fdelnesse, 

Ne  Narcisus  the  faire  of  yore  agon, 

Ne  yet  the  folye  of  Kyng  Salamon, 

Ne  yet  the  grete  strengthe  of  Ercules, 

Thenchauntementz  of  Medea  and  Circes, 

Ne  of  Turnus,  with  the  hardy  fiers  corage, 

The  riche  Cresus,  kaytyf  in  servage.  K.  1082—8. 


W.    H.    WILLIAMS 


323 


This  appears  heightened  and  embellished  in  Dryden  as : 

Before  the  Palace-gate,  in  careless  Dress, 

And  loose  Array,  sat  Portress  Idleness : 

There,  by  the  Fount,  Narcissus  pin'd  alone ; 

There  Samson  was ;  with  wiser  Solomon, 

And  all  the  mighty  Names  by  Love  undone : 

Medea's  Charms  were  there,  Circean  Feasts, 

With  Bowls  that  turn'd  inamour'd  Youth  to  Beasts. 


P2.  500-' 


Here  we  may  notice  the  picturesque  addition  of  the  phrase,  '  in  careless 
Dress  and  loose  Array/  to  the  bare  '  porter  Ydelnesse,'  and  the  change 
to  the  feminine  in  '  Portress  Idleness ' ;  the  legend  of  Narcissus 
sufficiently  suggested  by  the  touches  'by  the  Fount,'  and  'pin'd 
alone ' ;  the  substitution  of  Samson  for  Hercules,  partly  to  pair  with 
Solomon,  partly  as  a  better  example  of  the  power  of  love ;  tne  explana- 
tion of  'thenchaunternentz  of  Circes '  by  adding  '  With  Bowls  that  turn'd 
inamour'd  Youth  to  Beasts ' ;  and  lastly,  the  j  udicious  omission  of  Turnus 
and  Croesus  as  inappropriate  instances.  But  the  place  where  Dryden 
has  most  decisively  risen  to  the  height  of  the  occasion  is  in  the 
philosophical  reflections  of  the  final  speech  of  Theseus,  P3.  1024  ff., 
where  he  has  rendered  his  fine  original  with  an  added  vigour  and 
eloquence  which  fully  justify  the  expansions  that  he  has  admitted. 
It  is  in  this  kind  of  exposition  that  Dryden  finds  himself  most  at 
home  and  displays  the  surest  touch ;  and  for  the  sake  of  this  passage 
we  may  well  pardon  many  of  the  faults  in  his  version  to  which  we  have 
called  attention. 

W.  H.  WILLIAMS. 
HOBART,  TASMANIA. 


THE   'ANCREN   RIWLE1.' 

THE  ENGLISH  TEXT  (Continued). 

I  complete  now  my  comparison  of  the  Corpus  MS.  with  Morton's  text. 

p.  210,  1.  19  bemeres  deft  •  makieft  BG  (Makiefl)  bemere  deft  •  makeS  C  bemere 
de$  •  Maken  T  22  o  fowr  half  B  on  four  half  C  afour  half  G  o  fowir  half  T. 

212,  4  ff.  bihalde$  o  luffc  sef  }>er  is  eawt  to  edwiten  •  ofter  ladliche  biderward 
schuleft  mid  eifter  •  Hwen  ha  ihereft  B  bi  halt  o  luft  •  sef  ber  is  eawet  to  edwiten 
ofter  •  ladlic{ie  biderwart  schuletf  wi$  eifter  •  hwen  ha  ihereft  C  bihalded  aluft  gif 
ber  is  out  to  et  wite  ober,  laftliche  biderward  shuleS  mid  eiber  •  Hwen  ha  ihereft  G 
bihaldeft  o  luf  sif  ber  is  ewt  to  edwiten  •  ofter  loken  laftliche  biderward  •  sculeft  mid 
ei$er  Hwen  ha  iheren  T  6  skleatteft  B  scletteft  C  skletteS  G  sclattes  T 
22  asneasen  B  asnesen  G  sneseri  C  sneasin  T  25  tutel  BCGTN  eare  BT 

earen  G  arm  C  27  f.  Idel  7  semeles  is  bes  deofles  bearnes  slep  B  Idel  7  gemeles  is 
bes  deoueles  bernes  slep  G  idel  7  semeles  is  wel  be  deofles  bearnes  slep  C  (semeles  by 
early  correction  from  scheomeles)  Idel  7  semles  is  tis  deueles  barm  slep  T  (oediuesce 
7  negligence  est  le  dormir  al  filz  del  diable  7  a  la  fille  Fr.). 

214,  2  echeliche  BGT  ateliche  C  4  eskibah2  B  eskebah  G  eskebach  C 
askebaSe  T  7  IrS  euer  i$en  asken  om.  BGCT  6  peaftereft  B  paftereS  CG 

PuSeres  T  12  ine  ham]  burh  ham  BCGT  16  hwitel  BCT  bwitel  (altered 
from  witel)  G  21  crohhe  BGT  crochse  C  22  bismuddet  7  bismulret  BT 
(bismurlet)  bi  smuiSeled  7  bi  smeored  C  bi  smudded  7  bi  smured  G  23  MeaSeleft 
mis  wordes  BGC  (Ma«ele$)T  (mafleles). 

216,  1  feondes  fode]  feoile3  B  feondes  fode  CGT  (la  pouture  del  enemy  Fr.) 
3f.  kealche  cuppe  B  kelche  cuppe  GT  keache  cuppe  C  6  druncwile  BCG 

drunkensume  T  19  put  BCGT  26  fule]  feor  B  om.  CGT. 

218,  11  be  om.  BT  hire  C  chere  BCT  16  went  te  grimme  to«  to 

BTC(be)  he]  ha  CT  he  B. 

220,  22  falsi-S  a  treowe  BC  falseS  be  treowe  T  31  breasten  B  bresten  C 
brastin  T. 

222,  8  Osee  BCT4  15  ne  mei  ich  BC  ne  mai  i  T  17  dreaieS  B 
dreieS  C  draheS  T  30  halle  BC  helle  T  (sale  Fr.)  30  f.  makeS  sum 
bore5  BC  makieft  monie  hore  T  32  flatrrS  B  flattered  C  faltreS  T  selpeiS 

of]  heoueiS  up  B  heueS  up  CT. 

1  Continued  from  p.  160. 

2  Whatever  the  second  element  '  -bah '  or  '  -bach  '  may  be,  it  can  hardly  have  anything 
to  do  with  '  bathe.'     The  French  has  '  enfant  qest  touz  iours  entour  le  ceindre.' 

3  This  reading  can  hardly  have  arisen  from  '  feondes  fode.'     I  suspect  'feondes  fouaile' 
(or  '  fewaile '),  in  the  sense  in  which  '  fowayle '  is  used  in  Goer  de  Lion,  and  '  fwaill '  in 
Barbour's  Bruce  :  see  N.E.D.  under  '  fuel.' 

4  B  omits  the  second  quotation,  '  et  alibi — nescivit ' ;  T  reverses  the  order,  attributing 
'  Traxerunt '  etc.  to  Solomon,  and  '  Alieni '  etc.  to  Hosea.     C  gives  both  to  Hosea. 

5  The  Latin  version  has  '  meretrix,'  but  the  French  has  nothing  corresponding  to  this, 
and  I  am  inclined  to  suggest  that  it  may  be  equivalent  to  'heora  sum,'  'a  certain  one  of 
them,'  though  'hare'  is  the  regular   form   for  B.     In  the   Genesis   and  Exodus   such 
expressions  as  '  ilc  here,'  '  here  non,'  frequently  occur.  * 


G.    C.    MAC A UL AY  325 

224,  12    igan  o  dweole  BT     igan  adweolefl  C         17   chetel]  feh  BT     fech  C 

21  wiltes,  •£  he  ow  ne  bichearre  B     wiltes  •  •£  he  ow  ne  biwrenche  C     wiles  ^  he  ow 
ne  biwrenche  T         30   seac1  B     set  CT. 

226,  17    bet  om.  EOT. 

228,  1   anred  luue  BT  (anrad)    (lif  of)  ancre  luue  C        5  lowse  BT    lousse  C. 
230,  11   he  stone  B  he  stanc  T  he  stong  C         12   him... him  BCT         13  hire  B 
his  CT         17    sting  BCT. 

234,  12    wodeliche  BC     wodliche  T         16    icorene  BT     corne  C     (esluz  Fr.) 

22  Beo  BT     beo  C. 

236,  17  unbone  hise  te$  i  be  temptatiun  BT     unbone  hise  te$  ibe  fondunge  C. 

238,  11  i  wreastlunge  B  inwrestlunge  C  iwrestlinge  T  rSe  wrastlunge2  N 
17  meadluker  BC  meaftluker  T  wrinnrS  B  wrinneft  C  wrSereS  T  18  f. 
anewile  heorte  B  an  wille  heorte  C  anwille  of  herte  T  26  swete  ane  hwule] 
a  pine  B  apine  T  of  win  C. 

240,  2  gluccheS  B  glucheS  C  glucches  T  24  of  heorte  om.  BCT  25  ff.  ec 
and  7  om.  throughout  BCT  26  of  godes  deaft  o  rode  BT  (o  godes)  of  godes  deft 
on  ro'de  C  27  be  grimme  dom  of  dornesdei,  munneft  ofte  ofte  i  mode  B  be 
grimme  dom  of  domes  dai,  nim  ofte  i  mofte  T  be  grimme  dom  of  dornqgdei  nim  ofte 
in  heorte  C  28  his]  hire  BCT. 

242,  3  segge  •  Efter  ower  sunnen  •  hwen  se  BC  (sunnen  hwen)  seie  after  owre 
sunnes  •  hwen  se  T  7  for  na  lickre  ne  beo^S  ha  to  be  wunne  of  heonene  •  Ne  to 
be  wa  of  helle  ben  is  schadewe  to  ~p  bing  £  hit  is  of  schadewe  B  for  nan  sikere  ne 
beoft  heo  C  for  na  lickere  neren  ho  T  11  To  childene  ha  beo$  be  flectf  a 
peinture  B  To  childene  ha  beo"S  •  ^  fleo~S  an  peintinge  C  To  childene  ho  is  •£  fleos 
adepeinture  T  24  beoues]  burgurs3  B  beoues  T  om.  C. 

244,  17   heteueste  BC     hetefaste  T. 

246,  9  he  beo  BCT  31  Nule  ich...namare  BC  (Nulle)  Nuli...na  mare  T 
nullich...nam  more  N. 

250, 1  Hwa  halt  wrea'Sfte  be  bihalt  BC  (wra&te)  Hwase  haldes  wraftSe  •  Bihalde  T 
7  beo  schulen  beo  best  edhalden  B  beo  beod  best  athalden  G  he  wule  t  beon  best 
ed  halden  C  wiln  best  beo  wr$  halden  T  19  ontfule  ofter  feol  iheortet  B 
ondfule  •  ober  feol  iheorte  G  ondfule  •  ofter  feolle  iheorted  C  ondfule  •  ofter  fel 
iherted  T. 

252,  2  tweamen  BC  twinnen  GT  10  slubbri  B  slubri  G  slibbri  C 
slibri  T  13  euchan  halt  him  bi  ober  B  euchan  wreofte'S  him  bi  ofter  C  uch  an 
wreoded  him  bi  obere  G  euchan  leones  him  to  o$er  T  21  we  witen  BCGT 
22  slubbri  BG  slibbri  C  slibrinesse  T  25  f.  Wa  eauer  be  ane  B  wa  is  eauer 
be  ane  C  wa  is  eawer  ben  ane  G  wa  eauer  i>  is  ane  T  30  hwon]  for  BCGT. 

254,  4  f.  fallen,  undersete  hit  B  fallen  me  underset  hit  C  fallen  •  me  underfesteft 
hit  G  fallen  •  Vnderset  hit  T  5  f .  tweam  ham,  7  ba  failed  B  twem  ham  atwa  7 
ba  ha  failed  C  Totwin  ham,  7  ba  failed  G  To  twinne  ham,  7  ba«e  fallen  T 
6  f.  i  binges  utewrS  neome'S  BG  of  binges  utewrS  mmeS  nu  C  ibinges  utewiiS 
nimes  T  25  Al  bis  is  iseid  mine  leoue  sustren  •  •£  BG  (trend)  Al  bis  is  iseid  t  C 
Al  bis  is  iseid  mine  leue  childre  t  T  26  wr$  luueful  semblant  BGT  (semblaunt) 
mia  luueful  semblant  C  29  After  anima  una  about  twenty-seven  lines  added  B 
om.  CGTP. 

256,  7  After  tunge  about  six  lines  added  in  B  om.  CGTVT  12  pece  B 
peche  GT  mantel  C4  24  nawt  ane  to  neomen  BGC(naut)T(nimen)  25  (After 
witleas)  ah  set  j>  is  leasse  t  ha  eanes  ne  bihalde  beron  B  ach  t  eanes  ne  bihalde  ber 
on  C  bat  he  eanes  bi  halde  ber  on  G  ^  ha  eanes  bihalde  bron  T. 

258,  16  wr$  uten  be  ebren  capitale  BC  (edren)  wrSuten  be  eddren  capitale  G 
wrS  be  eddre  capitale  T  18  scurgunge  BG  schurgen  C  schurginges  T. 

1  Apparently  representing  the  strong  preterite  of  O.E.  '  sican.'   Elsewhere  (p.  330,  1.  6) 
this  MS.  gives  'seac'  representing  the  preterite  of  O.E.  'siican.' 

2  '  winstlunge '  in  Morton's  text  is  a  misreading  of  the  MS. 

3  The  N.E.D.  has  no  example  of  any  form  of  'burglar'  in  English  earlier  than  the 
sixteenth  century,  though  '  burgator '  and  '  burglator '  are  cited  from  the  Anglo-Latin  of 
the  thirteenth. 

4  The  French  has,  '  kar  vn  petit  cloutet  •  puit  mult  en  ledir  vne  grand  piece  entiere. ' 


326  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

260, 1  biwrabbet  B  biwrabbed  C  bi  wrabbed  G  iwarbbet  T  16  gnuddeden 
\>e  curnles  ut  BTG  (curneles)  gnudden  ]>e  cornes  C  18  steort  naked  BT  (naket) 
steortnaked  C  stertnaked  G. 

262,  3  heron  mistrum  mel  of  B  her  on  of  mistrume  mel  •  of  C  her  on  of 
mistrume  mel  •  of  G  |>er  on  •  of  mistime  meal  of  T  4  After  pitaunce  nearly 
twenty -three  lines  added  B  om.  CGTVP  8  f.  God  wot — uihtefl]  hwa  se  inward- 
liche  bihalt  ham,  fehteft  BG(?io  stop)  god  wat  hwase  inwardliche  bihalt  ham 
fechteft  C  hwa  se  inwardliche  bihaldes  ham  fehten  T  23  biwrixlet  BCT 
Biturnd  G  lite  B  liche  CGT  24  heouwe]  furme  BCGT  25  And]  Ah  BGT 

ach  C  27  Hwerto  neodeft  ow  BGC  (hwerto)  Hwer  to  nedes  ow  T. 

264,  1  f.  no  wunder  nisj  wunder  is  BCT  om.  G  (merueille  est  Fr.)  5  israel 
godes  folc  BGT  israel  godes  floe  C  10  fluht  BT  flucht  CG  23  we  mahen  B 
we  muse  C  we  muhen  T  mei  G. 

266,  1  luddre  7  meadlesluker  BC(medlasluker)G(medlesluker)T(mea'Sleslukere) 
17  wenden  anon  ouer  awei]  wenden  ouer  BCTG(ower)  22  Do  he  serS  |>is  en- 
chearre  BC(anchere)G(eancherre)  Do  he  seis  J?is  anchere  T  23  schec  me  wr3 
schrift  adun  B  sleft  me  wift  schrifte  adun  C  schech  me  adun  wiS  shrift  G  Schet 
me  wift  schrift  T  28  fealh  swa  i  uuel  wune1  B  falch  swa  iful  wune  C  felh 
swa  i  ful  wune  G  fel  swa  in  ful  wune  T. 

268,  9  deft  •  red  •  oj?er  singed  B  deft  red  ofter  singed  C  deft  •  ret  o}>er  singed  G 
deft  •  Bed  o«er  singeS  T  12  wiltfule  BG  widfule  C  wilfule  T  13  sulunges  BC 
bulunges  G  siscinges  T  19  f.  J?ine  gost]  \>i  chast  BTC(j?in)  J>i  castiernent  G 

27  wis  liste  BCGT. 

270,  3  f.  he  de^ — heuinesse]  clauses  transposed  BCGT  6  ne  dest  tu  hit  i 
nowSer  time  B  ne  dest  hit  noufter  time  C  nedestu  hit  nowfter  time  G  ne  dos  tu 
hit  itime  T  26  J>et  om.  BCGT  26  f.  ah  to  windwin  B  ach  to  windwe  C 
ah  to  windwe  T  ahte  windwin  G. 

272,  1  )>e  deofles  chef  BCG  (deoueles)  J  deoueles  chaf  T  24  fele«  wrS  hire  i 
speche  BG  (aspeche)  feoleft  anan  wrS  hire  ispeche  C  feoles  wift  hire  ispeche  T. 

274,  8  f.   nes...nes...wes  B     nis..,nis...is  GC2        25,27   swealm  B     swalrn  CG 

28  Dreori  of  longurig  B     dreori  of  longunge  G     dreorischipe  of  longunge  C     dreori 
uor  longinge  N        29   7  al  •£  of  ham  Howe's  •  7  seoueft  BC  (no  stop)     7  alle  )>at  of 
ham  flowed  •  7  geowefl  G. 

276,  9  Ne  kimeft  BG  ne  kimeS  C  11  Deale  drue  spritlen  beorefl  win  berien  • 
Breres,  rose  blostmen  B  Dele  •  druse  spritlen  beoreft  win  berien  •  breres  rose  blosmen  C 
Deale  drue  sprutelen  beoreiS  wine  berien  •  Breres  Rose  blosmen  G  17  nart  tu 
fulfte  fette  •  ne  bist  tu  B  Nart  }m  nu  ful$e  vette  •  Ne  bist  J?u  C  Nartu  furSe  fette  • 
Ne  bistu  G. 

278,  7  f .  t  tu  wenest  godd  B  ]?at  }>u  wenest  god  G  t  tu  wenes  God  T  t  }>u 
wenest  good  C  30  lutel]  sutil  BCG  sutel  T  7  swa  gentilliche  smeal  7  se 

smuhel3  B  7  swa  smuwel  ^(altered  later  to  smuhel)  7  swa  smuhel  GT. 

280,  7  J>e  Jmrs  BT  \>Q  Jmrse  CG  13  swong  ham  BC  swuong  ham  G  swang 
ham  T  18  bilurd  B  bi  lurd  C  bilurt  GT  23  smiten  •  Hwa  se4  BGT 
smiten  hwase  C. 

282,  10  deope]  halwende  B     halwinde  G     halewinde  CT. 

284,16  uileJlimeC  file  BT  }>ile  G  After  misdeft  J>e  add  lime  is  J>e  frensch 

of  file  B  lime  is  \>e  [frencs  of  file]  C 6  Lime  is  }>e  frenhs  of  tile  G  om.  T  iren] 

or  BCT  ore  G  After  1.  17  add  ant  rusted  \>e  swiftere  ^  me  hit  scureft  hearde  'i 

Gold  •  seluer  •  Stel  •  Irn  •  al  is  or  B  Arusted  ]?e  swiftere  •  J>at  me  hit  scured  harde  1 

1  'fealh'  ('falch,'  'felh')  here  must  be  from  O.E.  'feolan,'  which  seems  not  to  have 
been  recorded  hitherto  in  M.E.    The  French  is  'deuint  en  eel  orde  coustuine.'    Cp.  p.  272, 
1.  24. 

2  T  is  defective  from  272,  26  to  276,  25. 

3  Cp.  O.E.  '  smiigan,'  '  smygel. ' 

4  This,  with  a  comma  instead  of  a  full  stop  after  'eor5e,'  1.  24,  is  evidently  the  true 
reading  and  punctuation. 

5  After  this  C  has  iu  the  original  text  '  )>e  file  fret  of  }>eiren  •  Nis  hit  acurset  •  or  •  }?et 
iwurfteft  swartf  re '  etc.    By  a  somewhat  later  hand  '  ]>eiren '  is  cut  out  and  there  is  written 
above  the  Hue  'J?e  irn  \>e  rust  7  tet  ragget  7  makeS  hit  uwit  7  smefle.' 


327 

Gold  •  seoluer  •  Stel  •  iren  •  al  is  or  G  7  rustes  te  swrSftre  •£  mon  hit  scures  harde, 
Gold  •  Sillier  •  Irn  •  stel  al  is  or  T1  21  godes  nep2  BG  godes  nap  TV  godes  neb  C. 

286,  16  uri  leasse  B  wrin  lasse  G  uri  lesse  C  (altered  later  apparently  to  prein 
be  lesse)  ure  lesse  T  preyen  lesse  V  19  wur$  BCT  burh  G  29  A  new 
paragraph  begins  Galnesse  BCGT  (BO  in  the  French,  Lecherie). 

2138,  9  bispottift  BG  bispoteft  C  bispotten  T  10  spotle]  speckes  BGT 
speches  C  14f.  as  wes  spot  ear  BCG  (er)  as  was  spotte  ear  T  "  19  bu  reade 
boht  BGTC(bocht)  (vous  rouge  pensee  Fr.)  21  ter  nere  BT  ber  nere  G  ber 
nis  C  22  draheft  to  hire  unlust  BG  draseft  to  hire  unlust  C  drahes  to  him 
unlust  T  (se  treit  a  son  mal  desir  Fr.)  23  amainet  B  amained  G  amaset  CT 
(tresvasee  Fr.)  26  eruh]  curre  BGTV  cuard  C  (altered  from  curre)  (couard  Fr.). 

290,  2  vlien]  flehen  BG  flesen  C  flehes  T  (musches  Fr.)  16  halsinde  BCG 
halsande  T  23  spuse]  bune  BG  bugging  CT. 

292,  9,  14  dulle  BCT  dulte  G  19  holes]  hudles  BCGT  29  dragse  B 
drase  C  drah  G  drahe  T. 

294,  11  gure  blod  BCT  red  blod  G  17  stinkinde  BCGT  28  f.  sunge 
foxes  he  serS  ure  lauerd  ]>e  strueS  be  win  sardes  •  -p  beoft  be  earste  procunges  be 
strueft  ure  sawlen  B  seunge  foxes  he  serS  ure  lauerd  be  struck  be  winssardes  .  t  beoS 
ure  saulen  C  gunge  foxes  •  bat  beod  be  eareste  preocunges  •  he  seid  ure  lauerd  •  be 
destruet  be  win  garges  G  sunge  foxes  •  be  earst  prokinges  He  seis  ure  lauerd  •£ 
struien  be  winseardes  •  ^  arn  ure  sawles  T. 

296,  10  to  eani  bing  eawt  ouer  mete  B  to  ariimon  •  ewicht  oner  mete  C  to 
animon  awiht  ouer  mete  T  to  ani  fleshlich  Lime  •  owhtt  owermete  G  12  outende 
alle  hire  wanes  BG  (tende)  tende  al  hire  eastres  C  brohte  o  brune  alle  hire  wanes  T 
17  mutlefl  B  mudleft  C  inucheleft  G  muccles  T  19  on  elpi]  anlepi  B  an 
lepi  C  an  anleapi  G  lepi  T. 

298,  1  feorSe  BCT  3  is  schrift  be  beheueste  •  Of  hit  schal  BC  (schrifte...of) 
T  (schrifte...biheouest)  15  selt  B  gelt  G  seldes  T  (C  omits  the  sentence). 

300,  5   Judit  om.  BCGT        16  bihat  BCG  bihet  T        26  bet]  ba  BGT    boa  C. 

302,  9  sunegede  BCG     (bifore  be  sunehinge  T). 

304,  6  is  ipaied]  let  of  BCG  letes  of  T        32  }>rote  BCT    breote  GN. 

306,  3  swart  lei  up  in  to  be  ski  wes  BT(leie  -)G(into  be  skues)C(into  be  skies 
altered  from  skiwes)  8  monne  dom  B  monnes  dom  C  mine  dom  G  (forhohe- 
den)mi  dom  T. 

308,  7  7  te  ful  J>e  is  icnawen,  Biuore  godd  is  oberweis  B  7  be  ful  bifore  god  is 
ofterweis  icnawen  C  (altered  later  to  7  be  ful  be  is  icnawen  before  god  is  ofterweis) 
7  be  ful  bat  is  icnawen,  biuoren  god  is  oberneis  G  7  ful  •£  is  icnawen  •  Bifore  godd  is 
o]?er  weis  T  9  unwreien]  werie  BCG  were  T  19  After  neuer  add  ludas 
streonede  of  thamar,  phares  7  zaram  •  Phares,  diuisio  •  zaram,  oriens  interpretatur  • 
\>e  gasteliche  bitacnrS  tweamunge  from  sunne  •  7  i  be  heorte  brefter  arisinde  grace  B 
om.  CTGP. 

312,  9  unseli  B  unseinede  C  unsegene  G  vnsehene  T  (inaluois  Fr.)  20  hu 
me  seddeft3  BCG  (gedded)  hwat  mon  seddes  T. 

314,  10  f.  nawiht  for  hwon  he  beo  BG  nawicht  barfore  he  beo  C  na  bing  for 
hwi  he  beos  T  20  ropunge  t  he  BT  (ropinge)  ropunge,  bat  he  G  roping  t  C 
(altered  later  to  bidding  •£). 

316,  1    rungi  BG     rungge  C     rungen  T         25   unwreo  BCG     Vnwreoh  T. 

318,  7  Eede  o  Ring  i  chirch  sard  B  eode  on  ring  C  Eode  o  ringe  ichireward  G 
Eode  in  Ring  i  chirche  seard  T  11  stude,  o$er  me  seoluen  •  I  chirche  B  stude  • 
ofter  me  seoluen  ichirche  C  stude  •  ober  me  seolf  •  Ichirche  G  stude  o'Ser  me 
seluen  •  I  chirche  T  26  seggen  al  be  wise  BCGT  (segge). 

320,  1  tellen  al— 9,  sixte  totagge  om.  B  (ins.  GCT)  3  forseme  C  for  seme  T 
forgemen  G. 

322,  2  scheome4  BCG    scheme  T. 

1  C  has  added  in  the  margin,  '  Golt  •  seluer  •  stel  •  irn  •  coper  •  Mestling  •  breas  •  al  is 
iclfeopet  or.' 

2  Obviously  the  true  reading.     The  French  is  'hanap  dieu.' 

3  That  is,  '  what  is  commonly  said.' 

4  This  adjectival  use  occurs  several  times  in  our  texts  :  e.g.  390,  9. 


328  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

324,  19  ff.  Circumdederunt— beatunge  (326,  7)  inserted  after  longe  (328,  4)  BG 
as  text  T  om.  C. 

326,  26  f.  7  risede  7  mengde  him  seoluen '  •  7  seide  BG(geiede)  7  risede  •  7 
mende  him  seluen  7  seisede  C  7  resede  7  mengde  him  seluen  7  seide  T. 

328,  8  ff.   So  me  deoppre— up  follows  beatunge  (326,  7)  BG     ins.  here  CT. 

330,  2  truandise  •  hudeS  BG  truandise  •  hut  C  truandise  •  Hudes  T  4  derue 
BGT  deore  C  8  f.  wiiS  bus  anewil  ropunge  halseft  efter  B  wift  bus  anwil  halsunge  • 
ropeS  efter  CG  wift  bus  anwil  hailsinge  Ropes  after  T  31  is  a  sacrement  •  7  euch 
sacrament  haueft  BG  is  ansacrament  •  7  euch  sacrement  haueS  C  is  a  sacrament  • 
And  euch  sacrament  haues  T. 

332,  4  bla  BCG     blac  T        9  totagges  BCGT. 

334,  1  heare  B  hare  CT  best  G  .  tilde«...him  BCG  tildes... him  T 
6  wrS  hope  wrS  ute  dred,  j»et  is  wiS  ouertrust  BG  (uten...ouer  trust)  wi$  hope 
wift  uten  dred  •  ^  is  wift  oner  trust  CT  7  be  seift  BCT  bat  seift  G  15  beoft 
to  grimme  robberes  ieuenet  B  beo$  to  grim  me  robberes  CG(grime)  arn  euenet 
to  grimme  robberes  T  25  were  7  wif  7  wenchel  BCGT  27  nis  inne  BCGT. 

"338,  6  forgneaieft  B  for  gneieft  CG  for  gneies  T  14  unfreinet  BGT 
vnfreined  C  21  f.  were  his,  as  he  bere  hire  in  his  purs  •  to  neomen  up  o  grace 
brin  B  were  his  to  neomen  up  grace  brin  C  were  his  to  neomen  uppen  grace 
wrien  G  were  his  •  to  nimen  up  o  grace  brin  T. 

340,  1   betere  is  o  bene  no2  BG  (his)    betere  is  o  benne  no  T    betere  is  •  oa  •  benne 
noa  C         12  herbearhe  B     erber  C    herberhe  T     herebere  G        27   Inoh  is  t  tu 
BC(inoch)G  (bat  bu)T(seie  •)• 

8  7  trude  BG  7  trudde  CT  19  f.  ouer  gold  or,  7  simmes  B  ofer  golt 
hort  7  simmes  C  ouer  gold  hord  7  simmes  TG  (gimmes)  24  ende  •  of  alle  BG 
ende-'OfalleCT. 

344,  3  schorn]  ischakeBCG(yschake)  inschakeT  25  beafunge  B  bafunge  C 
bauunge  G. 

346,  4  After  abuten  add  Ant  set  of  bis  inohreafte  him  walde  bunche  wunder  B 
om.  CGT  5  f.  culle  al  be  pot  ut  BTG  (cul)  culle  as  be  pot  ut  C  20  on  iunne] 
engoini  B  an  geonni  C  en  gunne  G  eniunse  T  enioyne  V  (euiong  Fr.) 

22  sum  lutlesihweat  B    sum  lutles  hwet  C     sumlutles  wet  G     surn  litles  hwat  T 

23  as  a  salm  ofter  twa  •  Pater  nostres  BC  (ansalm...pater)G(a  psalm  •)T(asalme). 
348,  5   derf  BCT     (G  omits  348,  3—9). 

350,  21   edstuteS  B     stutteff  C     at  stondet  G     atstonden  T. 

354,  10  ordre  •  be  habbeS  B  o^Sre  be  habbe^  C  obre  be  habbet  G  oflre  ^ 
hauen  T  11  auh  om.  BCGT  14  ah  beou  itald  unwurS,  ne  scheome  B  Ach 
beon  itald  unwurS  ne  scheome  C  7  beon  itald  unwurS  •  ah  scheome  G  ah  beo 
itald  for  unwurS  ne  schome  T. 

356,  11  wel  mei  duhen3  B  wel  mei  don  C  wel  mai  buhien  G  wel  mai  dohen  T 
27  ich  telle — her]  ich  cleopie  eauer  her  •  beon  BC  (her,  beon)  ich  cleopie  eauer 
her  beon  G  i  clepie  eauer  to  beo  T  31  truke'S  ow  nawt  •  I  beos  BC  truke  eou 
nawt  •  I  beos  G  trukes  ow  nawt  •  I  beose  T. 

358,  1  is  in,  blissiS  B  is  in  •  blissrS  C  is  inne,  blissed  G  is  in  blisses  T 
27  boleden  BCT  bolie-S  G. 

360,  12  f.   acemin  BC     acemen  T     acemeien  G. 

362,  8  bune  BCGT  21,  23  tolaimet  B  to  laimet  C  to  limet...to  limed  T 
to  limeiS...to  limed  G. 

364, 13  forded  B  forbed  G  fordes  T  ...ded  C  (erasure]  17  buten  om.  BCGT 
27  nede  sune]  nefde  sunne  BCG  nauede  sunne  T. 

1  i.e.  'trembled  and  was  disturbed.' 

2  '  Better  is  ever  than  never,'  i.e.  '  any  time  than  no  time.' 

3  Cp.  418, 15.   These  passages  support  what  the  N.E.D.  calls  'the  unfortunate  conjecture 
of  Latham '  that  in  such  phrases  as  '  that  will  do  very  well '  there  has  been  a  confusion 
between  '  do  '  and  '  dow. '     The  French  is  here  illegible,  but  in  418,  15  we  have  '  ne  puit 
chaler  de  voz  draps,'  and  here  too  the  word  '  chaler '  seems  to  be  visible.     Probably  here 
the  meaning  is  'but  that  does  not  matter.'     So  also  in  the  passage  added  in  B  at  p.  64, 
1.  8  (f.  15,  1.  19)  '  berof  wel  mei  duhen '  means  « that  does  not  matter.' 


G.    C.    MACAULAY  329 

366,  4  After  berof  add  swa  him  agras  ber  asein  t  B  om.  CGT  20  bultefc  BOG 
bultes  T  (with  corresponding  forms  in  11.  22  f.). 

368,  2  vuele  iheowed]  elheowet1  B  el  iheowet  G  el  iheowed  C  helhewet  T 
bauh]  t  BT  bat  G  . .  C  (erased]  11  pinsunge  BCG  pinsinge  T  (so  also  370,  1) 
20  ber]  bredde  BCT  brede  G. 

370,  11)  ff.  auh  forto — religiun]  ah  beon  brefter  se  ancreful  nomeliche  religius  B 
Ach  beo  berefter  se  angerful  nomeliche  religius  C  Ah  beon  ber  after  se  estfvil 
nomeliche  religiuse  G  Ah  beo  brefter  se  angerful  T  23  deciples]  lechecreft  BC 
lechecraft  GT. 

372,  12  f.  igast,  t  he  forseme  BC  (no  stop}  igast  •  t  he  forseome  T  agast  •  bat 
he  forgeme  G  19  bohten2  B  brohten  GT  brochten  C  29  ifeiet  BT  iveiet  C 
iueied  G. 

374,  15   sker  BC     siker  GT. 

376,  24  And]  ah  B  7  G  (C  omits  this  sentence  and  T  omits  Aromaz — thuris, 
24—26). 

378,  2  He]  be  BG  beo  C  t  T  9  ff.  beonne— wowes]  Beo  se  ibunden  iriwrS 
fowr  large  wahes  BT  (be  fowr)  beo  se  ibunden  inwrS  four  large  wases  C. 

380,  2  scharpschipe  BCT  6  After  surine  add  £  is  •  bing  swa  iseid  ofter  idon, 
•£  me  mei  rihtliche  turiien  hit  to  uuele  •  7  sunegin  brefter  ber  burn,  wr$  mis  boht  • 
wift  uuel  word  •  on  hire  •  on  obre  •  7  sungin  ec  wr$  dede  B  om.  CT  19  hire  seolf, 
he  ouerleape'S  •  ne  trust  nawt  se  wel  B  hire  leof  ouerleape'S  Ne  trust  naut  se  wel  C 
hire  self  •  ouer  leapes  •  ne  trustes  him  nawt  T  21  ant  he  leaped  oner  ham  BC  (7) 
T  (7  he  leapes). 

382,  7  f.  heard,  soft  luue  lihteS  hit  7  softeS  7  sweteft  B  hart  luue  lichteS  hit  7 
softe'S  7  sweteft  C  hard  t  luue  ne  lihtes  hit  *  7  softes  7  swetes  T  11  f.  luue  of 
sunne  B  luue  summe  C  luue  sunne  T  13  middel  •  beh  •  7  earmes  B  middel  • 
b.eh  7  armes  TC(bech)  18  wiuene  BT  monne  C  25  beof  inume  B  beof 
inumen  CT. 

384,  2  pinsunges  BC  pinsiriges  T  16  spade]  spitelsteaf  B  spitel  stef  C 
spitel  staf  T. 

386,  26  freolec  BC    freolaic  T. 

390,  6  buften  BC  buftin  T  9  scheome  dea$  efter  al  bi  weane  B  scheome 
dea$  C  schome  dea«  T  11  be  bi  dea«  seche«  BC  t  ti  dea«  sechen  T  29  efter 
monies  wene  set  B  efter  monies  wene,  set  C  after  monnes  wene  iset  T. 

392,  9  After  wille  add  bu  hauest  us  icrunet  •  scheld  he  serS  of  god  wil  BC 
(icruned  •  Scheld)  bu  haues  us  icrunet  •  Scheld  he  seis  of  god  wil  T  17  f.  litunge 
BCG  litinge  T. 

394,  12  kumen  ham  B  cumen  ham  CT  cume-n  horn  G  13  leten  B  lete  C 
leoten  G  leaten  T  16  seiseS  B  serS  CG  seis  T. 

396,  15   gurdel  BCG    girdel  T. 

398,  9  After  hire  add  Ah  ha  is  breouald  •  i  widewe  had  •  i  spus  had  •  i  meidenhad  • 
be  heste  B  om.  CGT  10  •£  me  bugge  hire,  buggen  hire  1  ofter  wi«  B  t  nie  bugge 
hire  •  hu  ?  ofter  wi^S  C  bet  me  bugge  hire  •  buggen  hire,  hu,  ober  wi8  G  •£  mon 
buggen  hire  •  Hu  ofter  wi^S  T  26  Creasuse  wule,  be  wes  kinge  richest  B  creisuse 
weole  C  cresoles  weole  G  cressuse  weole  T. 

400,  1    bodi  BCGT. 

402,  21    herde]  earre  B     arre  C     om.  T. 

404,  12   makeden]  duden  B     diden  T     bude  C. 

406,  11  After  onswerien  add  alle  wa  ha  duden  me  •  ne  na  luue  ne  ahte  ich 
ham  •  B  om.  CT  7  siggen  om.  BCT  12  hit... hit  BCT. 

408,  9  streche  BC  strech  T  15  of  his  luue  leaskeS  B  his  luue  trukefl.C 
his  luue  manges  T  (samour  guerpist  Fr.)  19  se  witerliche  ich  bi  his  ahne  B 
se  witerliche  ich  •  bi  his  achne  C  sea  witerliche  Ich  bi  hise  ahne  T. 

412, 10  Tweofte  dei  •  Condelmeasse  dei  •  B3  ii,  twelfte  dai  •  iii,  Condelme»se  dai  T 
13  witsunne  dei  •  Midsumerdei  •  B  viii,  witsunen  dai  •  ix,  Mid  sumer  dai  •  T 

1  I  take  this  to  mean  '  discoloured  '  ('  strangely  coloured') :  cp.  O.E.  elbeodig,  etc. 

2  Cp.  p.  376,  1.  1. 

:'  Roman  numerals  are  written  above  the  line  throughout  this  list  in  B. 

M.  L.  R.  IX.  22 


330  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

Hwitesunedei  •  Midsumeresdei  •  N l  19  se  muwen — nexte]  beoft  hit  be  neste  BC 
beos  hit  te  neste  T  22  f.  and  umbridawes  and  soing  dawes,  and  uigiles.  I  beos 
dawes  om.  B  24  [eten]  nout  hwit]  nawt  eoten  hwit  B  eote  nan  hwit  C  ete  na 
hwit  T  25  After  sunendawes  one  add  hwen  se  beoiS  in  heale  7  i  ful  strengfle  •  ah 
riwle  ne  tweast  nawt  seke  ne  blodletene  B  om.  CT  26  ouer  feble  •  Potage  eoteft 
BC  (ouerfeble)T  (eotes). 

414,  7  hare  meadlese  nurS  B  hare  medlaseschipe  C  hore  meadlese  nowse  T 
24,  26  mea$fulliche...meaftfulliche  B  gnedeliche...naruliche  C  (altered  later  to 
me$fulliche...me8fulliche)  gnedeliche...narewlich  T. 

416,  4  f.  riche — tilien]  chirch  ancres  be  tilie^  B  riche  ancres  \>e  tilie~S  C  riche 
ancres  £  tilien  T  6  Ne  wilni  ha  nawt  B  Ne  wilni  naut  C  Ne  wilne  nan  T 
7  gnedure  B  gredure  C  gredire  T  8  for  hwon  •£  gredihesse  beo  rote  of  t 
gederunge  of  hire  bitternesse  •  al  beoft2  B  beo  gredinesse  rote,  of  hire  bitternesse  • 
Alle  beo$  C  Beo  gredinesse  rote  of  hire  bitternesse,  alle  beon  T  9  spruteft  BC 
spruten  T  12—  ]  9  Wummen — gingiure]  The  text  of  B  will  be  given  later.  T  agrees 
essentially  with  N,  and  so  also  the  original  text  of  C  and  the  French.  C  has  been 
corrected  later  so  as  to  agree  in  the  main  with  B  12  f.  bah  se  spearien  hit  on  ow  B 
J?ach  se  sparien  hit  on  ow  C  bah  se  sparen  hit  on  ow  self  T. 

418,  1  hwen  he  punt  hire  BCT(pundes)  4  ku...heo]  hit...  hit  BCT 
7  chepilt  •  •£  is  buS  forte  sullen  efter  bisete  B  chepilt  C  (be  bu8  etc.  added  later] 
chapmon  T  8  After  helle  add  bing  bah  •£  ha  wurcheft  ha  mei  burh  hire  meistres 
read,  for  hire  neode  sullen  •  Hali  men  sumhwile  liueden  bi  hare  honden  •  B  ping 
bah  t  ha  wurcheft,  ha  mei  wel  burch  hire  meistres  read  for  hire  neod  sullen  •  bah 
swa  dernliche  as  ha  mei  for  misliche  monne  wordes  C  (by  later  addition}  om.  T 
9  f.  cla'Ses  •  ne  boistes  •  ne  chartres  ••  Scoren  ne  cyrograffes  •  ne  be  chirch  uestemenz 
•  ne  be  calices  B  cla'Ses  Nawt  te  chirche  uestemenz  ne  be  chaliz  T  om.  C  22  After 
i-gurd  add  swa  leofteliche  bah  •£  se  mahen  honden  putten  ber  under  •  Nest  lich  nan 
ne  gurde  hire  wi$  na  cunne  gurdles,  bate  burh  schriftes  leaue  B  om.  CT 
ilespiles  B  ylespiles  CT  23  ou]  hire  BCT  24  breres  •  ne  biblodgi  B  breres 
ne  bibloftgi  C  breres  ne  blodeke  T. 

420,  1    After  leaue  about  five  lines  added  B     om.  CT  Ower  schou  i  winter 

beon  meoke  •  greate  7  warme  B  Ower  scheon  beon  greate  7  warme  CT  (Owre  schon) 
3  After  baruot  add  j  lihte  scheos  werien  B  om.  CT  4  After  likeS  add  Ischeoed 
ne  slepe  se  nawt  •  ne  nowher  bute  i  bedde  B  om.  CT  5  After  ueste  add  ah 
eauer  is  best  be  swete  7  te  swote  heorte  •  Me  is  leouere  ^  se  bolien  wel  an  heard 
word,  ben  an  heard  here  B  om.  CT  6  After  wimpel-leas  add  7  se  wel  wullen  B 
added  later  C  om.  T3  7  hwite  ofter  blake  B  blake  C  (altered  later  to  o'Ser 
hwite  o'Ser  blake)  om.  T  After  ueiles  nineteen  lines  added  in  BV4  om.  T 

added  later  in  the  margin  C  11  After  habben  add  A  meoke  surpliz  se  mahen  in 
hat  sumer  werien  B  om.  CT  13  After  seolke  add  ne  laz  buten  leaue  B  added 
later  C  (T  omits  12 — 14,  Ne  makie — chirche  clones)  15  na  swuch  bing  B  Nan 
[swuc]  bing  C5  Na  bing  T  16  After  leaue  about  fourteen  lines  added  B  om.  CT. 

422,  1  After  suluen  add  7  feden  sef  neod  is  B  om.  CT  (added  later  in  C) 
11  mei,  bauh,  techen]  mei  learen  BC  (T  om.  11 — 13  Hiremeiden — one)  12  pliht 
of  B  dute  of  C  among  wepmen  •  ofter  bimong  gromes  B  biniong  gromes  C 

13  After  one  add  bah  bi  hire  meistres  read  ha  mei  sum  rihten  7  helpen  to  learen  B 
om.  CT  (added  later  in  C)  15  After  idodded  add  ofter  sef  se  wulleft  ischauen  B 
om,  CT  (added  later  in  C)  16  After  heaued  add  beo  bi  be  her  ieueset,  hwa  se  swa 

1  C  is  here  defective,  having  lost  a  leaf  between  ff.  189  and  190,  with  text  corresponding 
to  Morton,  p.  410,  7  to  412,  14.     A  part  of  this,  down  to  the  end  of  Part  vii,  is  supplied 
by  a  later  hand  on  f .  198. 

2  That  is  '  If  greediness  be  the  root  of  this  collecting,  that  is  of  its  bitterness,  all  the 
boughs  are  bitter '  etc.     The  French  has  '  Si  couoitise  est  racine  de  sa  amertume  toutes 
sunt  les  branches  ameres'  etc.     The  text  of  B  is  apparently  a  development  by  way  of 
explanation. 

3  T  omits  all  mention  of  wimples  and  veils  here,  and  says  only  'Habbes  warme  cappes. 

4  V  Las  only  a  part  of  this  passage :  about  two  lines  are  missing  at  the  beginning  of  it 
owing  to  loss  of  a  leaf,  and  about  eight  are  omitted  at  the  end. 

5  'swuc'  added  later. 


0.    C.    MACAULAY  331 

is  leouere  B  om.  CT  (hwa  se  wule  ieveset  •  ah  ha  mot  oftere  weschen  7  kemben 
hire  holuet  added  later  in  C). 

424,  2  After  wulleS  eight  lines  added  B  om.  TO1  5  ful  uriorne  wrS  uten 
euch  tiffunge  •  ofter  a  lutel  Jmftene,  o$er  of  feier  ealde  B  ful  unorne  ofter  of  feiger 
ealde  C  (o$er  a  lute  jmhten  added  later]  ful  unorne  •  offer  feir  ealde  T  24  Hare 
cop  beo  hehe  isticchet  •  7  bute  broche  B  hare  cop  beo  hechge  isticched  wr$  ute 
broche  C  (T  om.  23 — 25  hore  heued — open  heaued)  25  unleppet  B  unlepped  C 
26  na  mon  •  rie  cuS  mon  ne  cunnes  mon  •  ne  for  na  cuSSe  cluppen  BC  (nan...cunes 
...nan)T(ni  for). 

426, 14  Sahtnesse  BT  sachtnesse  C  15  wre««e]  leatfSe  B  laflSe  CT  17  de« 
hond  j?  ilke  B  de$  j>  ilke  C  dos  hond  to  ^  ilke  T. 

428,  4  gruchesi  B  (ch  written  later  over  erasure,  probably  of  one  letter)  gruuesi  C 
gruse  T  8  uort  mid-morwen]  aftet  prime  BT  oftet  prime  C  10  bute  mete 
7  hure  •>  ha  mei  flutte  bi  B  bute  mete  7  claft  t  ha  mei  flutte  bi  CT  (ho  mai) 
11  godd,  hwet  se  tide  of  \>e  ancre2  BC(god)  godd  hwat  se  tide  of  J>e  anker  T 
14  ehe  of  hope  BT  ege  of  hope  C  (oil  desperance  Fr.)  16  ne  bu$  me  nawt 
blisse  BC  (naut)T  (bue$  mon)  20  f.  iwurset  •  On  ofter  half  }>urh3  J?et  ha  sungi«  B 
iwurset  •  On  oiSer  half  sef  ha  sunge-S  C  wursnet  •  On  ofter  half  sif  ho  sunehefl  T. 

430,  10  After  Amen  about  sixteen  lines  added  B  om.  CT  14  mi  muchele 
hwile  B  muche  hwile  CT  21  drehe$  7  dreaieft  B  dreheiS  7  dreise-S  C  drehen 
ofter  drehden  T  25  f.  wift  an  aue,  for  him  £  swonc  her  abuten  BC  (\>e  swong) 
T  (t  swanc)  26  Inouh— Intel,  added  later  C  om.  T  27  After  lutel  add  Ex- 
plicit •  Ijjench  o  |>i  writere  i  )>ine  beoden  sumchearre,  ne  beo  hit  ne  se  lutel  •  Hit 
turned  J?e  to  gode,  •£  tu  bidest  for  o)>re  B  om.  CT. 

(To  be  concluded.) 

G.  C.  MACAULAY. 

CAMBRIDGE. 

1  This  passage,  except  the  first  sixteen  words,  is  added  in  the  margin  of  C  after  the 
note  on  wimples,  p.  420. 

2  The  meaning  is  'Let  no  one  mistrust  God,  whatever  may  happen  to  the  anchoress, 
or  think  that  he  will  fail  her.'     The  French  is,  '  Nule  ne  mescroie  dieu  qeiqe  auienge  de 
la  recluse  qil  lui  faille. ' 

3  Altered  later  to  'sef.' 


22—2 


THE  S.  PANTALEO  ITALIAN  TRANSLATION  OF 
DANTE'S  LETTER  TO  THE  EMPEROR 
HENRY  VII  (EPIST.  VII). 

There  exist  two  early  Italian  translations  of  Dante's  letter  to  the 
Emperor  Henry  VII  (Epist  vn).  The  first,  which  was  undoubtedly 
executed  in  the  fourteenth  century,  has,  so  far  as  is  known,  been  pre- 
served in  one  MS.  only  (of  Cent,  xiv),  namely  Cod.  S.  Pantaleo  8  in 
the  Biblioteca  Vittorio  Emanuele  at  Rome.  This  translation  has  not 
hitherto  been  printed.  The  second,  which  at  one  time  was  attributed 
to  Marsilio  Ficino  (1433 — 1499),  but  which  probably  dates  from  towards 
the  end  of  the  fourteenth  century,  has  been  preserved  in  at  least  ten 
MSS.  (two  of  which  have  been  assigned  to  Cent,  xiv,  while  the 
remainder  belong  to  Cent,  xv)1,  and  has  many  times  been  printed2. 

That  these  two  translations  are  the  work  of  different  hands,  a  com- 
parison of  the  text  of  the  former  (now  printed  for  the  first  time)  with 
the  renderings  of  the  later  version  (where  they  differ),  as  given  below 
in  the  apparatus  criticus,  will  prove  beyond  question3. 

The  same  MS.  (Cod.  S.  Pantaleo  8)  which  contains  the  earlier 
translation,  contains  also,  following  immediately  after  it,  but  transcribed 
by  a  different  copyist,  the  Latin  text  of  the  letter  (a  transcript  of  which 
was  printed  in  a  previous  number  of  this  Review41).  How  far  this  trans- 
lation was  made  direct  from  the  Latin  text  in  the  same  MS.  (which  is 
the  earliest  of  the  three  MSS.  in  which  Epist.  VII  has  been  preserved), 
and  how  far,  consequently,  it  can  be  regarded  as  an  independent 
authority,  is  an  interesting  question.  On  the  one  hand,  there  are 
several  remarkable  coincidences,  three  of  them  involving  the  same 
blunder,  which  seem  to  point  to  a  close  relation  between  the  two.  On 

1  See  P.  Wagner,  Die  Echtheit  der  drei  Kaiserbriefe  Dantes  im  Lichte  der  Kritik 
(Koln,  1907),  pp.  10—11. 

2  See  Fraticelli,  Opere  minori  di  Dante  (Firenze,  1892),  Vol.  in,  pp.  462—3;  see  also 
Mod.  Lang.  Eev.  vn,  4 — 5. 

3  It  will  be  noted  at  the  same  time  that  the  earlier  version  is,  as  a  rule,  far  more 
correct  than  the  later  one. 

Vol.  vii,  pp.  208—14. 


PAGET    TOYNBEE  333 

the  other  hand,  there  is  the  no  less  striking  fact  that  in  a  large  number 
of  instances  the  translation  is  markedly  at  variance  with  the  accompany- 
ing Latin  text ;  from  which  it  is  evident  that  the  translator  cannot 
have  been  dependent  upon  the  S.  Pantaleo  Latin  text  alone  for  his 
version,  but  must  have  had  before  him  some  other  textual  authority. 
It  follows,  therefore,  that  the  Italian  translation  contained  in  this  MS., 
which  in  one  instance1  offers  a  more  correct  reading  than  any  of  the 
extant  MSS.  of  the  Latin  text,  has  a  certain  independent  value  of  its 
own,  as  representing  a  text  of  the  original  which  has  since  disappeared. 
The  chief  coincidences  between  the  Italian  translation  and  the  Latin 
text  in  the  S.  Pantaleo  MS.  are  the  following  : 

In  the  title,  al  gloriosissimo  etfelicissimo  triunf actor  e2  =  gl&riosissi  mo 
atque  felicissimo  triumphatori  (where  the  Venetian  MS.3  reads  sanctis- 
simo  triumphatori,  while  in  the  Vatican  MS.4  the  title  is  wanting). 
In  §  1,  crudelmente5  =  impie  (Vat.  impios  ;  Ven.  impie). 

sole  innangi  desiato6  =  Titan  preoptatus  (so  Vat. ;  Ven.  preci- 

pitatus). 
In  1 4,  la  voce  discesa  del  cielo1  —  vox  a  nubibus  (Vat.  a  nubis  ;  Ven. 

Annubis). 

In  §  7,  li  suoi  custumi  anchor  a  intorbeano  li  cor  si  del  fiume  d'arno* ; 
=  sarni  fluenta  torrentis  adhuc  ritus  inficiunt  (Vat.,  Ven. 
rictus}. 

nello    amore   del  padre9  =  in   amore  patris  (Vat.  in  Ginare 
patris ;   Ven.  in  Cinere  posita). 

It  will  be  noted  that  in  each  of  these  last  three  passages,  the  blunder 
of  the  S.  Pantaleo  Latin  text  (a  nubibus  for  Anubis ;  ritus  for  rictus ; 
and  in  amore  patris  for  in  Ginyrae  patris)  is  faithfully  reproduced  in  the 
translation. 

The  principal  divergences,  on  the  other  hand,  which  are  far  more 
numerous  than  the  coincidences,  are  as  follows  : 

1  Namely  in  §  3,  where  all  three  MSS.  of  the  Latin  text  read  Augustum,  the  translation 
lias  strectecqa,  representing  angustum,  which  is  undoubtedly  the  correct  reading. 

2  Here  the  later  translation  is  in  agreement. 

3  Cod.  Marc.  Lat.  XIV.    For  a  transcript  of  this  text,  see  Mod.  Lang.  Rev.  Vol.  vn, 
pp.  433—40. 

4  Cod.  Vat.  Palat.  Lat.  1729.    For  a  transcript  of  this  text,  see  Mod.  Lang.  Rev. 
Yol.  vn.  pp.  6 — 12, 

5  Here  again  the  two  translations  are  in  agreement. 

6  Here  the  later  translation  has  sole  molto  desiderato,  the  translator  having  evidently 
read  peroptatus. 

7  So  the  later  translation. 

8  The  later  translation  has  li  suoi  inganni  avvelenenano. 

9  The  later  translation  has  nelfuoco  degli  abbracciamenti  del  padre. 


334     S.  Pantaleo  Ital.   Trans,  of  Dante's  Epist.    VII 

In  §  1,  soperbo  inimico1  =  inplacabilis  hostis  (so  Vat.,  Ven.). 

spollio  =  denudare  (a  blunder  for  denudavit,  the  reading  of 

Vat.,  Ven.). 

piangeremo2  =  deflevimus  (so  Vat,  Ven.). 
In  §  3,  le  rasione  (i.e.  le  ragionis)  —  vita  (a  blunder  for  jura,  the 

reading  of  Vat.,  Ven.). 
Lombardia4  =  liginerani  (a  blunder  for  ligurum,  the  reading 

of  Vat.,  Ven.). 
strectecga  =  Augastum  (a  blunder,  which  is  common  also  to 

Vat.,  Ven.,  for  angustum). 

In  §  4,  confortando  =  coartando  (a  blunder  for  cohortando,  the  read- 
ing of  Vat. ;  Ven.  cohartando). 
i  regni  deli  romani  =  Romanaque  tellus  (Vat.  Ven.  Romanaque 

regna). 

In  §  5,  gli  altri5  —  Latinos  (so  Vat. ;  Ven.  Latino). 
antiguardiamo6  =  precaveant  (so  Vat.,  Ven.). 
altri  consigli1  =  alta  consiglia  (so  Vat.,  Ven.). 
In  §  6,solicitamente8  =  instanter  (so  Vat.,  Ven.). 

vergeando9  =  virulente  (Vat.  virulenter',  Ven.  via  terre). 
In  §  7,  rabbia10  =  sanie  (so  Vat. ;  Ven.  fumo). 

con  malvagio  vageiamento11  =  improba  pro  capacitate  (Vat.  Ven. 

improba  procacitate). 
adrende  (for  adtende)  =  adtendat  (so  Vat. ;  Ven.  accendit,  for 

attendit). 
convengono12  =  non  conveniunt  (so  Vat. ;  Ven.  etiam  c.). 

Here  we  have  no  less  than  seventeen  passages  where  the  translation 
exhibits  a  marked  divergence  from  the  S.  Pantaleo  Latin  text ;  in  five 
of  which,  moreover,  blunders  (denudare  for  denudavit ;  vita  for  jura ; 
Augustum  for  angustum',  coartando  for  cohortando',  pro  capacitate  for 
procacitate)  in  the  latter  are  corrected  in  the  translation. 

As  in  the  case  of  the  previous  transcripts,  contractions  have  been 
expanded,  the  expansions  being  printed  in  italics.  The  punctuation  of 
the  MS.  has  been  preserved.  The  folios  of  the  MS.  [137 ro— 140ro]  are 
indicated  in  the  transcript;  as  are  the  lines  (numbered  in  round  brackets) 

I  So  the  later  translation.  2  The  later  translation  has  piangemo. 
3  So  the  later  translation.  4  So  the  later  translation. 

5  The  later  translation  has  i  Latini.          6  The  later  translation  has  guardino  avanti. 
7  The  later  translation  has  alti  c.  8  The  later  translation  has  instantemente. 

9  The  later  translation  has  essendo  verdi.  10  So  the  later  translation. 

II  The  later  translation  has  con  malvagia  sollecitudine. 
12  The  later  translation  has  non  c. 


PAGET   TOYNBEE  335 

of  each  separate  folio.  For  convenience  of  reference,  the  text  has  been 
broken  up  into  paragraphs,  numbered  [in  square  brackets]  to  correspond 
with  the  numbering  of  the  sections  of  the  Latin  text  as  printed  in  the 
Oxford  Dante  ;  and  the  title,  which  follows  on  continuously  with  the 
text  in  the  MS.,  has  been  detached  and  printed  as  a  separate  paragraph. 
The  Italian  text  is  accompanied  in  the  MS.  by  a  certain  number  of 
marginal  glosses.  These  have  been  disregarded,  partly  because  many 
of  them  are  more  or  less  undecipherable,  and  partly  because  such  as  are 
decipherable  are  useless  for  the  purposes  of  the  present  article1. 

The  five  principal  printed  texts  of  the  later  Italian  translation  of 
this  letter  are  referred  to  in  the  apparatus  criticus  as  follows : 

D1.  =  Doni  (1547)2;  D2.  =  Doni  (1552)3;  B.  =  Biscioni  (1723)4;  M.  =  Mou- 
tier  (1823)5;  W.  =  Witte  (1827)6. 

[fol.  137ro].  Episfola  missa  ad  Regera  romanorww  per  dantem 
allegherij  florentinum7. 

(2)  Al  gloriosissimo  /  et  felicissimo  trmnfactore  et  singulare  (3)  signore 
Messere8  Henricho9  /  per  la  diuina  prouidentia  Re  (4)  de  romanj  /  et 
sempre  acrescetore10  /  I  soi  deuotissimi  Daw-(5)-te  aleghieri  fiorentino  / 
et  exbandito  non  meriteuole-(6)-me?ite11  /  et  Vniuersalmente  tucti  I 
toscanj 12  che  pace  desidera-(7)-no  /  ala  terra  denarasi  ai  pedi  /  basci 
mawdano13. 

[  §  1.]  Sicchome  (8)  testimona  lo  smisurato  amore  deuino14  /  ad  noi  fo 
lassa-(9)-to  hereditagio  di  pace15  /  ad  cio  che  nela  sua  merauil-(lO) 
-liosa16  dolcec9a  /  lasprecce  dela  nostra  milicia  /  sahu-(ll)-miliassero 

1  The  childish  nature  of  these  glosses  may  be  gathered  from  the  following  specimens — 
'  militia,     cioe  cauallaria,  le  nostre  operetioni  sono  una  caualeria  in  questo  mondo '  (§  1, 
1.  10);    'Absentia,     cioe  non  presentia'  (§  1,  1.  15);    '  inuiti.     cioe  cholui  che  non  uole ' 
(§  1,  1.  15). 

2  Prose  Antiche  di  Dante,  Petrarcha,  et  Boccaccio,  Fiorenza,  1547  (pp.  9—12). 

3  La  Zucca  del  Doni,  Vinegia,  1551 — 2  ('  I  Frutti,'  pp.  69—73). 

4  Prose  di  Dante  Alighieri  e  di  Messer  Gio.  Boccacci,  Fireuze,  1723  (pp.  211 — 15). 

5  La  Cronica  di  Giovanni  Villani,  Firenze,  1823  (Vol.  vm,  pp.  Ixv — Ixxi). 

6  Dantis  Allighieri  Epistolae  quae  extant,  Patavii,  1827  (Kpist.  vi,  pp.  31—47). 

7  Dl.D2.B.W.  Pixtola  di  Dante  Alighieri  Poeta  Fiorentino  all'  Imperator'  Arrigo  di 
Luzimborgo  (Da.  Lucimborgo;  B.W.  Luzimburgo). 

8  M.  omits  Messere. 

9  D^.B.M.W.  Arrigo. 

10  D2.  accrescitore  di  tutti  i  beni. 

11  D^D^B.M.  e  non  meritevolmente  sbandito',  W.  e  non  meritame.nte  s. 

12  D^D^B.M.W.  e  tutti  i  Toscani  universalmente.. 

13  Dl.D2.B.M.  W.  mandano  bad  alia  terra  dinanzi  a  (B.M.W.  a')  vostri  piedi. 

14  D^B.M.W.  Testificando  laprofondissima  dilettione  di  Dio;  D2.  T.  lap.  elettione  di  D. 
fatta  in  voi. 

15  Di.B.M.W.  a  noi  e  lasciata  la  heredita  (B.  redita)  della  pace;  D2.  a  n.  e  I.  per  la  h. 
d.p. 

16  D^D2.  omit  maravialiosa. 


336     S.  Pantaleo  Ital.   Trans,  of  Dante  s  Epist.    VII 

et  in  quello  uso  meritassimo  lalegrecge  (12)  dela  trmnfante  patria1.  Ma 
la  inuidia  de  lo  antico  et  so-(13)-perbo  Inimico2  sempre  mai  /  et 
occultamente  adguatando  /  (14)  la  prosper! tade  humana  /  alquawti 
uolenti  deseredando3  per  (15)  labenscentia4  del  defendetore5  /  Nui  altri 
Inuiti  spollio  (16)  crudelmmte6.  Quinci  e  che  nui  longamente  sopra  i 
fiumi  /  (17)  dela  confusione  piangeremo7  et  li  aiutorij  del  iusto  Re  pre- 
(18)-gauamo8  che9  despergesse  la  tiraraiia  del  crudele10  tiranno  /  (19) 
et  nui11  nela  nostra  iustitia  reformasse.  .Comimque  tu  (20)  successore  de 
cesare  et  daugusto12  passando  y  gic^hi  da-(21)-ppenino  /  recasti  le 
honoriuili13  ensengne  tarpie14  /  incoft-(22)-teneftte15  li  luonghi  sospiri 
sostarono  /  et  li  deluuij  de  le  (23)  lagrime  mawcarono.  Et  si  come  sole 
iwnai^i  desiato16  /  (24)  leuaralosi  noua17  speran9a  de  melgliore  seculo  a  ita- 
(25)-lia  resplendeo  /  allora  molti  antiuegendo  alloro  de-(26)-siderij 18  /  In 
canto19  con  uergilio  cantauano  /  Chosi  i  re-(27)-gni  de  Saturno  chome 
la  uergene  retornawdo20. 

[  §  2.]  Ma  (28)  per  qhel21  nostro  sole22  /  o  per  che  lo  sbollientameftto 
del  disi-(29)-derio  /  o  la  uerita  apspera23  questo  admowischa24  /  gia  se 
crede  (30)  stare  fermo  o  tornare  in  dietro25  /  ne  piu  de  meno  [fol.  137 vo] 

1  D1.  mitighiamo  V  asprezza  della  vittoriosa  patria  del  delo;  D2.  mitighiamo  V  asprezza 
et  acquistiamo   la  palma   vittoriosa   del  cielo ;    B.    la  speranza  della  nostra  cavalleria 
s'  aumiliasse:  neW  uso  d'  essa  meritassimo  V.  allegrezze  della  vittoriosa  patria  del  cielo; 
M.W.  V  asprezze  d.  n.  c.  s'  aumiliassero,  nell'  uso  (W.  e  nelV  u.)  d>  essa  m.  I'  a.  d.  v.  p.  d.  c. 

2  D^D-.B.M.W.  ma  la  sagacitade  e  la  persecutione  delV  antico  superbo  (B.  e  superbo) 
nimico. 

3  D1.  il  quale  sempre  e  nascosamente  perseguita  la  prosperita  de  disiderando  morti  coloro 
i  quali  consentiro  et  vollero;  D2.  il  q.  sempre  nascosamente  p.  la  prosperitade  d.  m.  c.  i  q.  c. 
et  v. ;  B.M.W.  il  q.  sempre  e  nascosamente  agguata  la  prosperitade  umana  (M.  omits  umana) 
disertando  molti,  i  quali  consentirono  e  vollero  (M.  vollono). 

4  Sic ;  in  the  marginal  gloss,  absentia. 

5  Di.D2.  del  tuo  valore ;  B.M.W.  del  tutore. 

6  D*.Df.B.M.W.  noi  altri  non  volenti  crudelmente  spoglio. 

7  D^D^B.M.  piangemo',  W.  piangemmo. 

8  T)l.D2.]&.M..  continuamente  addomandiamo ;  W.  c.  addomandammo. 

9  D^D^M.  lo  quale  ;  B.W.  il  quale.  10  B.  superbo. 

11  D1.D2.B.M.W.  et  che  noi. 

12  D^D2.  di  Cesare  Augusto ;  B.W.  di  C.  e  di  A ;  M.  di  C.  ed  A.  13  Sic. 

14  D^D^B.M.W.  glihonorevoli  segni  Eomani  di  (D^D2.  da]  monte  Tarpeo  recasti. 

15  D^.B.M.W.  alpostutto.  w  D^D2. B.M.W.  il  sole  molto  desiderato. 

17  Di.D2. B.M.W.  cosl  la  nuova. 

18  D^D2.  veggiendo  i  loro  desiderii;    M.  veggendo  il  loro  desiderio;    B.W.  vegnendo 
innanzi  a1  loro  desideri. 

19  D1.D8.B.M.W.  ingioia. 

20  D1.   con   Vergilio :    ecco   i  regni  di  Saturno  con  la  vergene  ritornano,   cantavano ; 
D2.  cantavano  con  V.;  Ecco  i.  e.  di  S.  c.  la  v.  ritornano;  B.M.W.  con  V.  cosl  i  r.  di  S., 
come  la  v.  ritornando,  cantavano. 

21  So  apparently  MS.;  D1.D2.B.M,W.  Ma  ora  che. 

_.22  D^D^M.  la  nostra  speranza,  doe  che  (M.  omits  doe)  vorremmo  che  gia  fosse;  B.W.  la 
nostra  speranza  (omitting  doe... gia  fosse). 

23  So  apparently  MS. 

24  D^D'-'.B.M.W.  o  V  effetto  del  desiderio,  o  lafaccia  della  veritd  ammonisca  (M.  monisca) 
questo. 

25  DJ.D2. B.M.W.  gia  si  crede  che  tu  dirnori  costl,  o  pensasi  che  tu  torni  indietro. 


PAGET    TOYNBEE 


337 


chome  se  yosue  /  o  el  figliolo  damos1  el  comandasse.  Sia-(2)-mo 
corcstructi  nela  certec£a  dubitare2  /  et  in  rompere  ne-(3)-la  uoce  del 
batista  /  cosi3  se  tu  collui  loquale  die4  uemre  (4)  o  aspectamo  vn  altro5  ? 
Et  auenga  che  la  longa  sete  /  si  (5)  chome  ella  furiosa6  sole  fare  /  pieghi 
in  dubio  le  cose  (6)  certe7  /  per  che  so/mo  dapresso8  /  niente  meno  In  te 
credia-(7)-mo  et  speramo9  /  affermando10  te  essere  ministro  de  deo  /  (8) 
figliolo  dela  chiesia  et  promoruitore11  dela  romana  glona12.  (9)  Impero 
che  io13  che  scriuo  /  cosi  per  me  chome  per  li  altri  /  (10)  si  chome  se 
comiene  alaraperiale  magestate  /  Vidi  te  be-(ll)-negnissimo  /  et  odi14 
te  pietosissimo15  /  quando  le  mei  mano  (12)  tocaro16  li  tuoi  pedi  /  et  li 
mie  labij17  pagaro  el  debito18  /  quart-(13)-do  sessulto  et  in  nelo19  spirto 
meo20  /  quando  infra  me  dissci  /  (14)  con  mecho  stesso21  /  Eccho  langelo22 
de  dio  loquale  tolle  le  pec-(15)-cata  del  mo^do23. 

[§3.]  Ma  noi  ce  merauigliamo  /  che  si  tarda  (16)  pigreca  facia 
dimoro24  /  quando  tu  gia  longamewte  nella  (17)  ualle  del  po25  no26  altra- 
menie  abandoni  oblij  /  et  lassci  tos-(18)-cana27  /  che  se  tu  arbitrassi28  / 
che  lerasione  delo  impmo  (19)  da  defendere  ritornare  /  con  li  confimj 
de  lombardia29  /  non  (20)  pensando  alpostucto  si  come  arbitramo  nuy30  / 


.  come  (B.M.  come  se)  Josue  ilfigliuolo  di  Amos;  W.  come  se  J.  o  ilf.  di  A. 

2  DaJ)2.M.   dubitare  nella  certitudine  ;  B.  a  dubbiare  nella  c.  ;   W.  a  dubbiare  nella 
incertudine. 

3  D^D^M.W.  e  rompere  (M.  irrompere)  nella  voce  del  Battista  cosi;  B.  e  rompere  nella 
voce  coal. 

4  D^D^.B.W.  dovevi;  M.  doveva.  5  D1.  noi  altro. 

6  D^D2.  B.M.W.  la  furiosa. 

7  D'.D2.  quelle  cose  le  quali  sono  certe;  B.M.W.  quelle  c.  le  q.  erano  c. 

8  D^D-.  B.M.W.  pero  ch'  elle  erano  presso.  9  D^D^B.  speriamo  e  crediamo. 
10  D^D2.  fennando.  n  Sic,  for  promovitore. 

12  D^D^B.W.  ef.  d.  c.  e  p.  d.  r.  g.;  M  e  f.  e  p.  della  romana  chiesa. 

13  D1.  I.  e  io;  D2.B.M.W.  I  io.  14  D1.  vidi. 

15  D2.  viddi  la  tuafaccia  benignissima  et  pietosissima. 

16  The  a  of  this  word,  which  had  been  accidentally  omitted,  is  inserted  above  the  line 
in  MS. 

17  D^D2.  e  gli  altri  miei  sensi  ;  B.M.W.  e  le  labbra  mie. 

1S  DW.B.M.W.  il  loro  debito.  19  Sic. 

ao  Dl.D2.B.M.W.  quando  si  esulto  in  me  Io  spirito  mio. 

21  D^D2.  quando  iofra  me  dissi  meco  stesso  ;  M.W.  quando  io  infra  me  dissi  meco. 

22  Sic. 

23  D^D2.  ecce  agnus  Dei,  ecce  qui  tollit  peccata  mundi  ;  M.W.  ecce  agnus  Dei  qui  t.  p.  m.  ; 
B.  omits  quando...  mundi. 

24  D1.D2.B.M.W.  Ma  che  con  si  (D^D2.  cosi)  tarda  pigrezza  dimori,  noi  ci  maravigliamo. 
26  D^D2.  quando  tu  molto  tempo  gia  vincitore  nella  voile  dimori  (D2.  nella  valle  ti  posi)  ; 

B.  quando  gia  molto  tu  vincitore  nella  valle  del  Po  dimori;  M.W.  quando  tu,  molto  tempo 
gia,  v.  n.  v.  d.  P.  d. 

26  Sic. 

27  D^B.M.W.  non  lungi  Toscana  abbandoni,  lascila,  et  dimentichila  ;  D2.  et  T.  abbandoni  ; 
lasciala  et  dimenticala. 

«  Di.D2.  B.M.W.  arbitri. 

29  D^D2.  che  i  confini  di  Lombardia  siano  atti  a  difendere  le  ragioni  dello  Imperio  ; 
B.M.W.  che  intorno  a1  confini  di  L.  siano  (M.  sieno)  intorniate  le  regioni  da  difendere 
V  imperio  (B.  d.  Imperio). 


confini  di  L,.  siano  (M.  sieno} 
. B.M.W.  non  e  cosi  al  postutto  siccome  (B.  come)  noi  pensiamo. 


338     S.  Pantaleo  Ital   Trans,  of  Dante  s  Epist.    VII 

pero  che1  (21)  la  gloriosa  signoria  de  li  romanj  non  se  restrigne2  con  li 
(22)  terminj  ditalia  /  ne  co3  li  fimj  de  Vropia  /  la  quale  ae  tre  (23)  corni4 
certo  auengna  chessa  sofferendo  forc.a  abia  /  (24)  ritiritti5  li  suoi  terminj 
in  strectecga  /  ora  puoi  toccano6  (25)  dentera  rasione  da  ongni  parte  el 
mare  occeano7  ape^a  (26)  se  dengnerei  dessere  centa  /  co  la  sua  desutile 
unda8  (27)  Impercio  chele  sc^'pto  a  noi9  /  Nascera  el  troiano  Cesare 
[fol.  138 ro]  dela  bella  schiacta  /  elquale  coftfinera10  lompmo  col  mare  (2) 
oceano  /  et  la  fama  cole  stelle.  Et  corzcio  sie  cosa  che  Oc-(3)-tauiano 
augusto  comawdasse  vniuersalmmte  /  il  mondo  (4)  fosse  scHpto11  /  si 
come  el  nostro  hue  acceso  con  la  fiamma  (5)  dello  eterno  foco  /  euaw- 
geli9ando  mughiasse32  /  Octauiano  (6)  now  nauesse  deuulgato  el  comada- 
mento13  del  corte  del  uistissi-(7)-mo  prmcipato  lunigenito  figliolo  de 
deo  /  facto  homo.  (8)  no?i  nauebre  allora  uoluto  nasscere  dela  uergene  / 
ad  (9)  confessare  essere  sobto  posto  aquella  lege  /  secundo  che  (10)  la 
natura  che  li  auea  presa14  /  Certo  el  figliolo  de  dio  /  al  (11)  quale  se 
conuenea  adempire  ongni  iustitia  /  non  nauere-(12)-be  confortato  fare 
cosa  iniustitia15. 

[§  4.]  Vesgongnnesi  dunqua  (13)  stare16  Impedicato17  si  longamente  in 
una  stretissima  Aia18  (14)  del  morido  /  collui  loquale19  tucto  el  mondo 

1  D^M.  imperciocche ;  D2.  imperoche]  B.W.  perdocche. 

2  D1.D2.B.M.W.  non  si  strigne.  3  Sic. 

4  DXJ)2.B.M.W.  ne  con  lo  spazio  d'  Eurova  in  tre  parti  divisa. 

6  Sic.  6  sic. 

7  DKD2.  Et  certo  s'  ella,  la  quale  do  ha  sq/erto,  forza  contrahera,  doe  raccogliera 
insieme,  quello  che  ella  regge  da  ogni  parte  di  ragione  non  corrotta,  aggiungendo  V  onde  del 
Mare  Ampjiitrito  il  quale  e  in  Greda;  B.  E  s'  ella,  la  quale  ha  sofferta  forza  contradia, 
raccogliera   da  ogni  parte  quello,   che   la  regge  a  ragione  non  c.,  a.   V  o.   del  M.   A.; 
M.  E  certo,  se  essa  Roma,  la  quale  do  ha  sofferto,  forza  contraera,  doe  raccogliera  insieme 
quello  cK  ella  regge  da  ogni  parte  di  ragione  non  c.,  a.  V  o.  del  m.  A.,  il  quale  e  in  Greda; 
W.  E  s'  ella,  la  quale  ha  sofferta  forza,  contraera  quello  ch'  ella  regge  da  ogni  parte,  di 
ragione  non  c.,  a.  V  o.  del  m.  A. 

8  D1.D2.B.M.W.   appena   degnera    d'   esser    cinta    con    la    non  utile   onda  del  Hare 
Oceano. 

9  DJ.D2.  E  in  verita  egli  e  scritto  ch'  egli  •  B.W.  E  in  v.  egli  e  s.',  M.  E  in  v.es. 
ch'  egli. 

10  D1.D2.B.M.W.  terminera. 

11  D^D^.B.M.W.  comandasse  che'l  mondo  universalmente  fosse  scritto  (B.M.W.  descritto). 

12  DX.D2.  siccome  il  n.  bue  (D2.  omits  bue)  San  Luca  evangelizante,  doe  lo  Spirito  santo 
con  la  fiamma  dello  eterno  fuoco  mughia  (D2.  »crive) ;  B.  s.  il  n.  b.  santo  L.  Evangelisto, 
acceso  della  f.  d.  e.  f.  m. ;  M.  s.  il  n.  b.  S.  L.  evangeJizzante,  doe  lo  Spirito  santo,  acceso 
delta  f.  d.  e.  f.  m.',  W.  s.  il  n.  b.  evangelizzante,  acceso  della  f.  d.  e.  f.  m. 

13  Sic. 

14  D^D^B.M.W.  s'  egli  non  avesse  aperto  il  comandamento  della  corte  del  giustissimo 
prindpato  V  unigenito  figliuolo  di  Dio  fatto  uomo  a  confessare  s2  esser  suddito  secondo  la 
natura  ch1  egli  avea  presa  all'  ordinamento  d'  Ottaviano,  non  avrebbe  allora  voluto  nascere 
della  Vergine. 

15  Sic-,  IXD^B.M.W.  In  verita  egli  non  avrebbe  confortato  V  uom  giusto  (B.  il  giusto; 
W.  I'  ingiusto),  al  quale  si  conviene  (W.  convenne)  adempiere  ogni  giustizia. 

16  D».D8.B.M.W.  di  stare.  v  DJ.Da.M.  implicate. 

18  D1.B.M.W.  in  una  aia  strettissima;  D2.  in  una  anima  strettissima. 

19  B.  al  quale. 


PAGET    TOYNBEE 


339 


aspecta  /  et  non  (15)  descorra  dal  sguardo  doctauiano1  /  pero  che2  toscana 
tira-(16)-nescha/nela  fidanga  delo  indusio  se  conforta.  Et  con-(l7) 
-tinuame/ite  confortando  la  soperbia  de  malingnj.  Noiie  forge  (18) 
raunano3  adiongendo  presontione  ad-4  presontione.  Into-(19)-ni  un- 
altra  uolta  quella  uoce5  de  curio  In6  cesare  /  in  (20)  fino  che  le  parte 
non  fermate  dalcuna  fortecga  /  anno  (21)  paura  /  toglie  uia  ongnj  demo- 
ranga  /  londugio  sempre  (22)  noque  ale  cose  aparechiate  /  pare  fatiga  et 
paura  /  (23)  co??  magiore  percco7  se  demarcdano8.  Intoni  anchora9  la  uo- 
(24)-ce10  descesa  del  cielo11  increpando  contra  enea12  /  se  neuna  gloria 
(25)  de  tante  chose  de  moue  /  ne  tifforci  daffatigarti  per  (26)  toi  lodi  / 
guata  Ascanio  loquale  cresce  /  et  la  speranca  (27)  de  lulio  tuo  herrede  / 
al  quale  el  rengno  ditalia  [fol.  138 vo]  I  regni  deli  rornani  debbero  essere 
dati13/ 

[§  5.]  Certe  gioa?mj  (2)  reale14  tuo  primo  genito  /  et  Re  elquale  dietro 
el  tramotare15  (3)  del  sole  che  se  leua16  /  la  seguewte  suceesskwe  del 
mo/ido17  aspecta  (4)  ad  nui  e18  un  altro  Ascanio  /  elquale  seguendo  lorme 
del  (5)  grande  padre  /  contra  quelli  de  turno19  In  ongni  logo  cho-(6)-me 
lione  Incrudilerae  /  et  uerso  agli  altri20  chomo21  Angnolo  (7)  sa  humiliarae22 
anti  guardiamo23  li  altri24  consigli  del  sa-(8)-cratissimo  Re  che25  el 
celestiale  inditio  per  quelle  parole  de  (9)  samuel  now  renasprt'sca26  /  quando 
tu  eri  picciolo  denangi  (10)  ad  gli  occhi  toi27  /  non  fusti  tu  facto  capo  ne 
y  tribi  disra-(ll)-el  /  et  te  el  segnore  vnse  in  Re28  /  et  misete  In  uia29  / 

1  D^D^B.M.  d'  Ottaviano  Atigusto  ;  W.  d'  Augusto. 

2  Di.DS.B.M.W.  che. 

3  D'.D^B.M.W.  raguna.  4  Sic. 

5  D^D^B.M.W.  I.  dunque  (M.  adunque)  in  te  ancora  (T>l.D2M.  omit  ancora)  q.  v. 

6  Di.D2.B.M.W..a.  7  Sic. 

8  D^D^B.M.  give  this  quotation  in  the  original  Latin ;    D1.  omits  the  last  line ; 
W.  leaves  the  quotation  blank. 

9  D1.Da.B.M.W.  a.  in  te.  10  DUP.B.M.W.  quella  v. 
11  Di.Da.M.  da  c. ;  B.W.  dal  c.  12  DW.M.  contra  d'  E. 

13  D^D^B.M.  give  this  quotation  in  the  original  Latin ;  W.  leaves  it  blank. 

14  D^D^B.M.W.  Giovanni  reale  in  verita.  15  Sic. 

16  D^D2.  il  quale  ha  seco  i  freni  della  luce,  c'hora  si  lieva;  B.M.W.  II  q.  dietro  alia 
fine  della  1.  ch'  ora  si  I. 

17  D^D2.  la  successione  del  mondo  ;  B.M.W.  la  s.  d.  m.  che  segue. 

18  Di.D2.  e;  B.M.W.  e. 

19  D^D2.  contra  quello  Turno;  B.  contra  a  quelli  di  Turno,  contra  i  nemici;  M.W.  c.  a 
q.  di  T. 

20  D^D2.  come  I.  incrudelito  verso  i  Latini;  B.  c.  I.  incrudelira ;  e  verso  i  Latini  nelli 
fedeli  amid ;  M.  c.  I.  incrudelira,  verso  i  L.;  W.  c.  I.  incrudelira,  e  v.  i  L. 

21  D1.D2.B.M.W.  siccome. 

22  Sic-,  Di.D2.  s'  humiliara;  B.  s'  aumiliara;  M.W.  s'  umiliera. 

23  Di.Ds.B.M.W.  Guardino  avanti.  24  D^Ds.B.M.W.  alti. 

25  Di.D.M.  re,  doe  di  te,  che',  B.  re,  doe  a  dire,  che;  W.  re,  che. 

26  D^D^B.M.W.  si  rinasprisca. 

27  D1.Da.B.M.W.  d.  allafaccia  tua. 

28  Di.D2.  et  il  Signore  unse  il  re;  B.  e  te  il  S.  u.  in  re ;  M.W.  e  il  S.  u.  te  re. 

29  Di.D2.  e  miseti  (D2.  misseti)  in  signoria  in  via  ;  B.M.W.  e  m.  il  Signore  in  v. 


340     S.  Pantaleo  Ital.   Trans,  of  Dante  s  Epist.    VII 

et  disse  (12)  uaoccidi  li  peccatori  damalech1  et  dagay  non  perdonare2  / 
et  (13)  uendica3  collui  che4  ti  mawdo  dela  gente  bestiale  /  et  dela  sua  (14) 
afrectata  solennitate5  /  liquali  In  ueritade  /  cio  Amalech  et  (15)  Agay 
sonno  decte  chosi  resonare6  /. 

[§6.]  Tu  cosi  uernegiando  (16)  chome  faciendo  la  pn'mauera7  /  a 
milano  te  stai8  /  et  pensi  ex-(l7)-pegnere9  per  lo  tagliamento  deli 
capi  /  lauenenosissima10  Idra  /  (18)  Ma  secte11  recordase  /  dele12  magnifiche 
cose  gloriosamente  facte13  (19)  da  hercule14  /  tu  conoseereste  te  essere15 
cosi  inganato  /  chome  (20)  fue  elli  /  alquale16  per  dampno  crescea  el 
pestilentioso  animale  /  (21)  reppululando  con  molte  teste17  /  In  fino 
atanto  /  che  quello  ma??-(22)-gnammo  solicitanie?ite18  /  taglio  el  capo 
dela  uita  /  Certo  non  (23)  uale19  addiradicare  li  albori  /  li  tagliamenti20  de 
rami  /  Angi  (24)  allora  moZlto  piu  uergeando  ramiscono21  Infino  che22 
lara-(25)-dice  sono  intere  danno  alime?ito23.  O  prmcepe  solo  del 
mondo  /  (26)  che  anuntiarae  tu  auere  facto24  /  qua?ido  tu  adurai  pie- 
(27)-gato  el  collo  dala  contumace25  Cremona26  non  serefara  allora 
[fol.  139ro]  una  non  pensata  rabbia27  ad  Brescia  /  o  ad  Pauia28  /  si  fara 
cer-(2)-to  /  et  quando  quella  altresi  resedara  flagellata29  /  incontenente 

(3)  unaltra  rabbia  /  reenfiara30  ad   uergelli  /  o  a  b^rgamo31  /  o  altroue. 

(4)  Infino  atanto  /  che  fie  tolta  uia32  la  radiceuole33  cagione  di  quesfco 

1  B.W.  insert  here  imperciocche  tu  se'  sacrato  in  re,  acciocche  tu  percuota  il  popolo 
d1  Amalech. 

2  D'.D2.  e  altre  d*  agagi  non  perdoni;  B.  e  al popolo  d'  A.  n.  p.  ;  M.W.  e  al  re  d'  Agag 
n.  p. 

3  W.  vendichi.  *  D^D2.  B.M.W.  il  quale. 

5  Di.D^.B.M.W.  solennitade  affrettata. 

6  B.  le  quali  cittadi  Amalec  ed  Agagi  dicono  sanarsi  (sic) ;  D1.D2.M.W.  oniit. 

7  D^D'IB.M.W.  Tu  (D>.D2.  omit  tu)  cosi  vernando  come  tardando. 

8  Di.D2^.)!^.^.  a  M.  dimori.  9  D^D^B.M.W.  spegnere. 

10  The  ne  of  this  word,  which  had  been  accidentally  omitted,  is  inserted  above  the  line 
in  MS. 

11  Sic.  12  DW.B.M.W.  Ma  se  tu  ti  ricordassi  le. 

13  Di.DS.B.M.W./atte  gloriosamente .  14  D^D^.B.M.W.  Alcide. 

15  D^D^B.M.W.  tu  cowsceresti  che  tu  se'.  16  D^D^B.M.W.  come  colui  al  quale. 

17  D1^2^.^!^.  il  pestilentioso  animale  ripolando  (D2.  ripollulando ;  M.  rampollando  ; 
W.  ripollolando)  con  molte  teste  per  danno  cresceva. 

18  D^D2.  constantemente;  B.M.W.  instantemente. 

19  Di.D^B.M.W.  In  verita.egli  non  vale.  20  D1.D2.B.M.W.  lo  tagliamento. 

21  D1^'2.!^.  anzi  ancora  moltiplicano,  essendo  verdi  rami  (M.   v.   i.  r.);    B.W.    a.   a. 
moltiplicando,  essendo  verdi,  rifanno  rami. 

22  D^D'^M.  insino  a  tanto  che ;  B.W.  infino  a  t.  che. 

23  D1.D2.B.M.W.  le  radici  sono  (W.  sieno)  sane  acciocch'  elle  dieno  alimento. 

24  D1^2.  che  te  principe  solo  del  mondo  chiameranno ;  B.M.W.  che,  o  Principe  s.  d.  m., 
annunzierai  tu  averfatto  (M.  che  avraif.). 

25  Di.D2.  contumacia.  ™  D2.  In  C. 

27  D^D^B.M.W.  non  si  rivolgera  (B.  volgera)  la  subita  rabbia. 

28  D*.D2.B.W.  o  in  B.  o  in  P. ;  M.  in  B.  o  in  P. 

29  DM^.B.M.W.  la  quale  altresi  quando  ella  sara  stata  flagellata  (D1.  stara  /.). 

30  D1.D2.B.M.W.  si  rivolgera.  3i  Di.D^B.M.W.  o  in  V.  o  in  B. 

32  Da.D2.B.M.W.  et  infino  a  tanto  (B.  infinattanto)  andrd  facendo  cosi  che  sia  tolta  via. 

33  M.W.  radicale. 


PAGET    TOYNBEE 


341 


(5)  pk^ighore.  /     Et  che  diuelta1  la  radice2  di  tanto  errore  /  li   pun- 
(6)-genti  rami  col  troncho  Inardiscano3. 

[§7.]  O  excellentissimo  prm-(7)-cipe  del  principe4  /  Ingnori  tu& 
e  non  comprendi  /  dela  uiduta6  de-(8)-la  summa  alte9a  /  done  /  cio  e 
Firenge  la  uolpicella7  de"  questo  (9)  poc9o  serraguacta  /  secura  dali 
caciatori8?  Certo  questa  pie-(10)-na  de  peccati/non  bee  nel  corente 
po  /  /me  nel  to  teuere9  /  (11)  ma  li  suoi  custumi  anchora  Intorbeano  /  li 
corsi  del  fiume  /  (12)  darno10  /  Et  forsi  tu  nola11  sai  /  Firen^e  crudele 
pistilentia  (13)  e  chiamata12  /  Questa  e  la  uipera  /  uolta  nel  uewtre  dela 
madre  /  (14)  questa  e  la  pecora  inferma/  laquale  co/itamina  col  suo  (15) 
tocchamercto13  la  gregge14  del  suo  signore  /  Questa  e  Mirra  sce-(16)-lerata 
et  Impia  laquale  senfiamo15  nello  amore  del  pa-(l7)-dre16  Questa  e  quella 
amata  impaciewte  /  laquale  caciando17  (18)  el  fatato  matHmomo  /  no18 
timeo  de  cowsentire  /  in  quello  generoly  /  (19)  elquale  y  fati  negauano  / 
Ma  furiosamewte20  a  bactaglie  /  el  (20)  chiamoe  et  ala  perfine21  male 
ardita  soffacendo  /  con  un  laccio  (21)  sem  picchoe22  /  Veramewte  Firen9e 
seffor9a  desqua?-ciare  (22) la  madre  /con  ferita  di  uipera23/infino  chella24 
aguc9a  le  /  (23)  corna  /  del  rebbelamercto  /  contra  ad  Roma25  /  laquale  la 
fece  ala  (24)  sua26  Imagine  /  et  similitudine.  /  Veramente  cacia  fore  (25) 
uitiosi27  furni28  /  e  suaporando  la  rabbia29  /  et  quindi30  le  uicir?e  (26)  pechore 
/  et  rum  sapeuoli  infermano31  /  ment?e  che  alacciawdo  (27)  con  false 
losinghe,  et  cone/fignimewti  /  rauna  con  secho  /  [fol.  139 vo]  li  suoi 


Tebro)  questa 


I  D^D-.B.M.W.  e  divelta.  2  D2.  la  barba. 

3  Sic;  D^B.W.  col  tronco  i  p.  r.  inaridiscano  (D^B.  inaridiscono)  ;  D2.  et  tronco  i  p.  r.y 
ch1  ancora  non  inaridiscono  ;  M.  che  'I  tronco  e1  p.  r.  inaridiscano. 

4  Sic.  5  D^D^B.M.W.  Signore  tu  e.  p.  d.  p.  sei. 

6  D^D'^B.  nello  sguardo;  M.W.  dallo  s. 

7  D1.D2.B.M.W.  ove  la  v. 

8  D^D'^.B.M.W.  sicura  da'  cacciatori  rigiaccia  (D2.  r.  o  si  riposi). 

9  D^D2^.!^^.  in  verita  non  nel  corrente  Po,  ne  nel  tuo  Tevere  (D 
frodolente  bee. 

10  D^B.M.W.  ma  V  acqua  (M.W.  V  acque)  del  fiume  a'  Arno  ancora  li  suoi  inganni 
avvelenano;  D2.  ma  de  V  acqua  d.  /.  d'  A.  et  quella  anchora  con  li  suoi  i.  avvelena. 

II  D^.B.M.W.  nol. 

12  DT.B.M.W.  F.  questa  crudel  morte  e  c.  ;  D2.  che  F.  chiama  questa  c.  m. 

13  D^D'^B.M.W.  col  suo  appressamcnto  contamina. 

14  Di.D2.  le  glorie;  B.M.  le  gregge.  «  Di.D2.B.M.W.  s'  infiamma. 

16  D^D2^.!^^.  nelfuoco  degli  abbracciamenti  del  padre. 

17  D^.B.M.W.  rifiatato.  18  Sic. 
19  Da.D2.B.M.W.  non  teme  di  prendere  q.  g. 

ao  D^D^B.M.W.  furialmente. 

21  D^D^B.M.W.  alia  fine. 

22  D1.D2.B.M.W.  pagdndo  il  debito  con  un  laccio  s'  impicco. 

23  D1^2^^^.  Veramente  con  ferita  di  vipera  si  sforza  di  squarciar  la  madre. 

24  B.W.  infino  a  tanto  ch'  ella.  25  D^D-.B.M.  contra  R.;  W.  contro  R. 
26  D1.Da.B.M.W.  di  sua.                       27  D^D^B.W.  i  viziosi;  M.  i  velenosi. 

-8  D2.B.W.  fummi;  M.fiumi.  .         29  D^D^B.M.W.  accendendosi  la  r. 

30  B.  quivi. 

31  D1^2.  le  pecore  vicine  e  simplici  s'  infermano  ;  B.M.W.  le  p.  v.  e  strane  s'  i. 


342     S.  Pantaleo  Ital   Trans,  of  Dante's  Epist.   VII 

uicini  /  et  quelli  raunati  fa  impagire1.  Veramente  (2)  ella  arde  neli 
carnalj  desiderij  del  padre2  /  mentre  che  con3  /  (3)  maluagio  uageia- 
mettto4  /  sefforga5  de  corompere  contra  te6  (4)  el  cowsentimento  del 
sommo  powtifice  elquale  e  padre  del  (5)  padri.  uerameftte  contmria  al 
ordenamento  de  deo7  /  adorando  li-(6)-dole  dela  sua  propriti  uohwtade 
infino  che8  la  pac9a  aduendendo9  (7)  despregato  /  el  so  legitimo  Re  /  non 
se  uergongna  de  patto-(8)-ire  con  non  so  Re  /  ragione  no  sue  per 
potentia  de  male-(9)-fare  10.  Ma  la  femina  furiosa  adrende11  el12  laccio 
con  loqua-(10)-le  ella  se  lega  /  pero  clie  spesse  uolte  /  alcuno13  e  dato14 
(11)  in  maluagio  sewno  /  ad  cio  che  poi  che  elli  uedato  facia15  (12)  quelle 
cose  che  se  conuegnono16  /  lequali  opere  /  adue?*gna  (13)  chesse  siano 
non  iuste17  /  le  pene  desse  so/mo  cognosciute  /  (14)  essere18  dengne. 

[§8.]  Addunqua  rompi  le  demorarcge  /  e  secondo  (15)  disay19  prendi20 
fidan9a  degli  ochi  del  tuo  sengnore  Ideo  (16)  sabaot'/  denangi  alquale  tu 
adopm  /  et  questo  golia  con  (17)  la  rombola21  dela  tua  sapientia  /  et  cole 
pietre22  dele23  tue  (18)  forge  abacti24  pero  che  la25  sua  caduta  /  la  nocte 
colorabra26  (19)  dela  paura27  coprira  /  loste28  deli  filistei  /  fugiranno  li 
filistei  /  (20)  et  sera29  libero  Israel  allora  la  heredita  nostra  /  laqwale  / 
(21)  noi  piagnemo  senga  riposo30  essere  ci  tolta  /  Interamente31  (22)  ci 
serra  restituita  /  Et  sichome  noi32  ricordandoci  essere  /  (23)  in  esilio  dela 
santa  lerusalem  /  piangnemo  in  babe-(24)-llorcia33  /  Chosi  allora34  citadinj 

1  D^D2.  mentre  che  allacciando  con  false  ragunate  fa  impazzare  ;  B.M.W.  m.  c.  a.  con 
false  lusinghe,  e  con  fingimenti  raguna  con  seco  i  suoi  vicini,  e  quelli  ragunati  fa  i. 

2  D^D.s.B.M.W.  ella  incende  (B.  se  encende;  W.  «'  incende)  e  arde  ne'  diletti  (D^D2. 
letti)  carnali  del  p. 

3  D^D2.  omit  con.  4  Dl.D2.B.M.W.  malvagia  sollecitudine. 
5  D1.Da.B.M.W.  si  sforza.  6  D2.  omits  contra  te. 

7  DT.D2.M.  Veramente  contraria  di  Dio. 

8  M.W.  infino  a  tanto  che.  9  Sic. 

10  DJ.D2.  ella  avendo  spregiato  il  signore  legitimo;  et  la  pazza  non  si  vergogna  a  pattovire 
ragioni  non  sue,  et  potentia  di  malfare]  B.M.W.  ella  a.  s.  (M.  dispregiato)  il  suo  re  (M.  il 
signore)  L,  la  p.  (M.  e  la  p.)  n.  si  v.  a  p.  con  non  suo  re  r.  n.  s.  per  p.  di  m.  f. 

11  Sic  •  D^D^B.M.W.  attende.  12  D1.D2.B.M.W.  al. 

13  DJD2.  che  uno.  14  D^D2^^.  mosso  ;  W.  messo. 

15  D^D^M.  acciocche  mosso  vifaccia  ;  B.  a.  in  esso  vif.;  W.  a  messovi  f. 

16  D^D2.  q.  c.  le  quali  si  c.  ;  B.W.  q.  c.  che  non  si  c.  ;  M.  q.  c.  le  quali  non  si  c. 

17  D1.D*.B.M.W.  avvegnache  sieno  ingiuste.  18  W.  d1  esser. 

19  Di.D^B.M.W.  d.,  alta  schiatta  d'  Isaia  (W.  Isai). 

20  T>l.prendici;  M.W.  prenditi. 

21  B.M.W.  frombola.  22  B.M.W.  colla  pietra. 

23  D^D2.  omit  dinanzi  al  quale  ..  .pietra  della. 

24  D1.  Tuaforza  a.  ;  B.M.W.  tua  fortezza  a.  ;  D2.  Tua  forza  talforza  a. 

25  D1.D2.B.M.W.  nclla.  26  D^D^B.M.W.  caduta,  V  ombra. 
27  B.  della  tua  p.                                           28  D^D^.B.M.W.  V  esercito. 

29  D^D^/ami. 

30  Dl.D2.B.M.W.  la  quale  noi  (B.W.  omit  noi)  senza  intervallo  (M.  intervalli)  piangiamo. 


31  D^D2^^^.  incontanente. 

32  D1^2^^.  Et  come  noi  ora  ;  B.  Siccome  noi  ora. 

33  D^D'^.B.M.W.  r.  che  noi  siamo  di  Oerusalemme  santa  in  esilio  in  Babilonia  piangiamo. 

34  Di.D2.  hora. 


PAGET    TOYNBEE 


343 


dessa  /  exispirando  im  pace  (25)  releueremo  in  allegrecga  /  le  miserie 
dela  confusione1. 

[fol.  140 ro]  Scripta  in  toscana  sobto  la  fonte  darno  /  a  die  xvj2  (2) 
daprile3  nellawno  primo  del  corrimeftto  ad  italia4  del  de-(3)-uino  Henrigo 
felicissimo5. 

PAGET  TOYNBEE. 

FlVEWAYS,    BURNHAM,    BUCKS. 


1  D1.D2.B.M.W.  cittadini  e  respiranti  (D^D2.  ?.  c.  r.)  in  pace  ed  in  allegrezza  (D^D2. 
allegrezze)  le  miserie  delle  confusioni  rivolgeremo. 

2  M.  16.  3  Di.D^B.M.W.  del  mese  d1  Aprile  MCCCXI  (M.  1311). 
*  D^D^B.M.  del  coronamento  d'  Italia. 

5  Dl.D2.B.M.   dello  splendidissimo  ed  onoratissimo  Arrigo ;   W.   del  divino  e  felicis- 
simo  A. 


LESSING  IN  ENGLAND. 

IP! 

THE  INFLUENCE  OF  LESSING  IN  ENGLAND. 
(a)  Aesthetic  Influence. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  influence  of  Lessing  on 
the  science  of  aesthetics  in  England  has  been  profound:  and  there  can 
be  no  doubt  in  the  mind  of  any  who  have  made  the  attempt  that  it  is 
very  difficult  to  trace.  Mere  references  to  the  name  are  not  infrequent 
from  about  1820  on :  but  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases  they  betray  no 
significant  acquaintance  with  Lessing,  still  less  any  desire  to  show  how 
great  things  he  has  done  for  us. 

Sir  Robert  Phillimore  (pace  the  able  but  uncharitable  New 
Englander)  met  a  real  need  in  his  Laocoon,  or  rather  in  the  preface 
thereto :  for  he  devotes  Section  ill  to  a  discussion  of  the  influence  of 
the  Laokoon  in  England.  He  says  (and  personal  research  confirms  the 
view)  that  Reynolds,  in  his  Discourses  (1769 — 90),  makes  no  reference 
to  Lessing :  but  that  passages  almost  identical  in  spirit  may  be  found 
in  Laokoon  and  the  Discourses.  Of  such  passages  Phillimore  quotes 
eight ;  the  first  is  :  '  A  painter  must  compensate  the  natural  deficiencies 
of  art.  He  has  but  one  sentence  to  utter,  but  one  moment  to  exhibit ' 
(  Works,  I,  p.  348,  4th  Discourse),  and  another  is :  '  Invention  in  painting 
does  not  imply  the  invention  of  the  subject,  for  that  is  commonly 
supplied  by  the  poet  or  historian.  With  respect  to  the  choice,  no 
subject  can  be  proper  that  is  not  generally  interesting.  It  ought  to  be 
either  some  eminent  instance  of  heroic  action  or  heroic  suffering. 
There  must  be  something  either  in  the  action,  or  in  the  object,  in  which 
men  are  universally  concerned,  and  which  powerfully  strikes  upon  the 
public,  sympathy .'  The  opposition  of  the  German  and  the  Englishman 
on  the  subject  of  allegorical  painting  only  serves  to  render  more  con- 
spicuous their  marked  agreement  on  other  points. 

1  Continued  from  Modern  Language  Review,  vol.  ix,  p.  212. 


SYDNEY    H.    KENWOOD  345 

John  Opie  lectured  at  the  Royal  Academy  in  1807.  He  makes  no 
reference  to  Lessing,  but  he  also  has  a  similar  passage  on  the  choice  of 
the  critical  moment1.  In  Copleston's  lectures,  too,  much  the  same  ground 
is  covered  as  in  the  Laokoon.  Phillimore  believed  that  Copleston  was 
not  acquainted  with  Lessing's  work,  though  the  points  of  resemblance 
in  matter  and  manner  are  striking.  Phillimore  calls  special  attention 
to  the  appeal  to  Homer  as  authority2. 

It  seems  impossible  to  decide  whether  these  and  similar  parallelisms 
of  thought  were  the  writers'  own,  borrowed  from  earlier  critics,  or  echoes 
of  the  Laokoon.  Nothing  is  easier  than  to  see  what  one  wishes  to  see  : 
but  in  the  case  of  the  Laokoon  at  least  it  behoves  one  to  remember  that 
the  work  deals  with  the  fundamentals  of  the  art  of  expression,  and  that 
clear-headed  thinkers  of  any  age  or  nation  may  reasonably  be  expected 
to  have  essentially  the  same  ideas  on  first  principles.  With  regard  to 
Reynolds,  I  have  been  unable  to  find,  in  his  own  works  or  in  those  of 
contemporaries,  the  smallest  indication  that  he  was  able  to  read 
German,  which  in  the  case  of  the  Laokoon  was  in  his  day  a  necessity. 
Even  Maty  can  only  say :  '  I  am  informed  that  the  Laocoon  is  extremely 
good,'  and  Maty  was  a  professed  linguist.  As  for  Opie  and  Copleston, 
I  am  inclined  to  think  that  they  were  not  indebted,  at  least  directly,  to 
the  Laokoon. 

1  Henry  Fuseli,'  says  Phillimore,  '  first  of  all  English  Professors  of 
Painting ...  did  full  justice  by  name3  to  Lessing's  Laocoon,  upon  the 
principles  of  which  his  third  lecture  "On  Invention"  is  in  great  measure 
founded.'  That  Fuseli,  a  Swiss,  should  thus  be  the  first  is  not  surpris- 
ing under  the  circumstances.  Careful  research  has  given  me  no  reason 
to  doubt  the  truth  of  Phillimore's  statement.  He  gives  one  extract 
from  Fuseli4  which  is  a  mere  re-statement  of  Lessing's  theory  of 
successive  and  momentary  action  as  the  proper  subjects  respectively  of 
poetry  and  the  plastic  arts. 

Phillimore  next  (p.  xxxvi)  refers  to  Philips,  who  succeeded  Fuseli  in 
1824,  as  showing  himself 'in  one  of  his  very  eloquent  lectures ...  imbued 
with  the  principles  of  the  Laocoon.' 

Phillimore  deals  only  with  the  works  of  painters.  As  far  as  I  have 
been  able  to  discover  no  one  has  hitherto  attempted  to  trace  the 
influence  of  the  Laokoon  on  English  sculptors.  I  had  hoped  to  find 

1  Lectures  on  Painting,  London,  1809,  Lecture  n,  read  at  the  Eoyal  Academy,  Feb.  23, 
1807,  pp.  61—3. 

2  Praelectiones  Academiae,  London,  1813,  n,  p.  17. 

3  In  a  footnote  to  the  first  page  of  the  lecture  cited. 

4  Life  and  Writings  of  Henry  Fuseli,  ed.  by  Knowles,  1831,  in,  pp.  133  f. 

M.  L.  R.  IX.  23 


346  Lessing  in  England 

some  indications  of  their  indebtedness  through  Thorwaldsen  and 
possibly  through  Canova :  but  careful  examination  of  the  works  of 
and  literature  relating  to  Gibson,  Westmacott,  Chantrey  and  Wyatt 
remained  quite  fruitless.  Only  in  the  lectures  of  Flaxman  could  I 
find  any  reference  which  might  possibly  indicate  acquaintance  with 
the  work  of  Lessing :  and  even  in  this  single  case  it  would  be  bold  to 
state  as  a  certainty  that  Flaxman  had  the  Laokoon  in  his  mind's  eye. 
Yet  the  passage  is  very  interesting :  and  it  is  exceedingly  likely  that 
Ross'  translation  of  1836  was  known  to  the  English  sculptor.  It  is 
from  Lecture  vi,  p.  148  x : 

First,  a  poet  speaks  by  words, 
The  painter  and  sculptor  by  action. 

Action  singly,  or  in  series : — the  subject  of  composition  being  comprised  in  the 
arts  of  design  ;  thus  the  story  of  Laocoon  is  told  by  the  agony  of  the  father  and 
sons,  inextricably  wound  about  in  the  folds  of  serpents. 

This  one  example  of  Flaxman's  styleless  English  is  the  only  passage 
in  which  he  gives  reasonable  evidence  of  knowing  Lessing  even  by 
name. 

Macaulay  knew  Ross'  translation,  and  read  it  repeatedly.  It  filled 
him,  he  said,  with  wonder  and  despair,  so  far  did  it  seem  beyond  his  own 
power  of  accomplishment2.  He  told  G.  H.  Lewes  that  the  reading  of  it 
formed  an  epoch  in  his  mental  history,  and  that  he  learned  more  from 
it  than  he  had  ever  learned  anywhere.  It  is  interesting  to  compare  a 
passage  from  the  essay  on  Moore's  Life  of  Lord  Byron3,  in  which  he 
shows  that  doctrines  of  Lessing  had  taken  firm  possession  of  his  mind. 

De  Quincey's  partial  translation  has  already  been  noticed  :  it  is  the 
noblest  English  prose  in  which  Lessing's  thoughts  have  ever  been 
clothed.  He  says  elsewhere4 :  '  Lessing  was  the  first  German  who  wrote 
prose  with  elegance.'  De  Quincey  was  certainly  the  first  and  last  genius 
to  translate  it. 

Later  critics  have  sometimes  been  more  concerned  to  point  out  the 
defects  of  the  Laokoon  than  to  show  wherein  its  greatness  lies.  Tucker5 
says :  '  it  has  perhaps  influenced  more  minds  than  any  other  work  on 
aesthetics  ever  written  except  those  of  Aristotle  and  Longinus.  To 
countless  others  besides  Macaulay  it  has  been  their  first  illumination  of 

1  Lectures  on  Sculpture,  2nd  Edition,  London,  1838. 

2  Life  and  Works  of  Goethe,  1855,  in  footnote  to  p.  56.     Cp.  also  Phillimore,  p.  xxxvi 
but  he  spells  the  name  wrongly  and  gives  a  false  reference  to  page. 

3  Works,  London,  1875,  v,  p.  403. 

4  Essay  on  Rhetoric. 

»  T.  G.  Tucker,  The  Foreign  Debt  of  English  Literature,  London,  1907,  pp.  240  f. 


SYDNEY    H.    KENWOOD  347 

the  everlasting  principles  of  beauty.'  But  Upcott1,  Perry2  and  Mitchell3 
have  faults  to  find.  The  latest  and  most  violent  attack  on  Lessing  is 
that  by  Babbitt4  of  Harvard.  In  his  Preface  (p.  viii)  he  accuses  Germans, 
and  with  them  Hugo  Bliimner,  whose  edition  he  used,  of  '  conventional 
admiration.'  Bliimner  says  that  the  Laokoon  killed  descriptive  poetry, 
and  Babbitt  denies  it  even  for  Germany.  He  adds  (p.  ix)  that  Lessing 
made  no  attempt  to  reduce  to  order  the  true  confusion  of  the  arts,  a 
pseudo-classical  or  'romantic'  confusion  seen  already  in  Rousseau  and 
Diderot ;  showing  itself,  for  example,  in  attempts  to  get  with  words  the 
effects  of  music  and  painting.  At  p.  35  is  Babbitt's  own  estimate  of 
Lessing.  The  more  we  study  the  Renaissance,  says  he,  and  'the 
remoter  classical  background,'  '  the  more  we  shall  agree  with  Lessing 
himself  that  in  him  was  no  living  fountain.'  '  If  the  Germans  are  to 
justify  the  high  claims  they  make  for  Lessing  as  a  critic,  they  must  rest 
them  on  other  grounds  than  his  intellectual  originality  or  the  fineness 
of  his  taste.'  But,  as  Goethe  said,  it  was  not  his  intelligence,  but  his 
masculine  character  that  told  :  and  here  Babbitt  advances  the  aged  and 
hackneyed  analogy  of  Lessing  and  Luther,  both  protesting  pollution  of 
clear  springs.  '  If  we  approach  his  critical  writings  without  precon- 
ceived notions  or  conventional  admiration,  we  shall  admit  that  there  is 
something  about  them  that ...  is  foreign,  remote  and  disconcerting.  He 
usually  judges  not  from  the  immediate  impression,  but  by  certain  fixed 
laws  and  principles  which  he  proceeds  to  found  upon  Aristotle '  (p.  40). 

In  an  admirable  essay  Rolleston5  remarks :  '  Travel  back  to  the 
close  of  the  eighteenth  century ...  by  what  road  we  will,  and  again  and 
again  we  shall  find  Lessing  as  a  pioneer  at  the  head  of  it.  He  who 
reads  Modern  Painters  reads  Lessing:  he  who  reads  Essays  and 
Reviews  reads  Lessing.'  This  is  quite  true,  but  the  absence  of  acknow- 
ledgment6 in  both  the  above  and  many  other  cases  renders  the  task  of 
tracing  influence  very  difficult.  In  the  case  of  Coleridge  it  is  easier, 
and  to  him  we  shall  devote  a  special  section. 

Sully7  says  that  by  deducing  the  distinction  between  poetry  and ' 
painting  from  the  nature  of  their  respective   media,  he  undoubtedly 
pioneers  the  true  road  of  modern  aesthetics.     Bosanquet8  makes  this 

1  L.  E.  Upcott,  An  Introduction  to  Greek  Sculpture,  Oxford,  1899,  p.  119. 

2  W.  C.  Perry,  Greek  and  Roman  Sculpture,  London,  1882,  pp.  525  f. 

a  L.  M.  Mitchell,  A  History  of  Ancient  Sculpture,  London,  1883,  pp.  601,  605. 

4  Irving  Babbitt,  The  New  Laokoon,  London,  1910. 

5  Lessing  and  his  Place  in  German  Literature,  in  the  Contemporary  Review,  LXIV  (1893), 
pp.  237  f.     Eeprinted  in  Studies  in  European  Literature,  Oxford,  1900. 

6  I  have  been  unable  to  find  any  reference  to  Lessing  in  the  works  of  Euskin. 

7  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  9th  ed.,  article  'Aesthetic.' 

8  History  of  Aesthetics,  London,  1892. 

23—2 


348  Lessing  in  England 

clear  (pp.  223  £).  He  gives  a  good  translation  of  the  first  six  paragraphs 
of  Section  xvi  of  the  Laokoon.  At  p.  230,  speaking  of  Wie  die  Alien 
etc.,  he  calls  the  manner  of  treatment  '  perhaps  the  first  simple  and 
popular  rapprochement  between  genuine  Greek  feeling  and  the  profound 
convictions  of  modern  life  ;  and  in  this  respect  [he]  anticipated  the  dawn 
of  a  new  era  in  which  Greek  art  and  intelligence  were  felt  to  possess  a 
real  message  for  humanity.'  After  a  masterly  exposition  of  Lessing's 
view  of  Katharsis  he  says  that  though  his  doctrines,  partially  failed  of 
practical  effect,  'yet  in  the  preparation  of  data  for  modern  aesthetic 
science  there  has  been  no  much  more  potent  influence  than  this 
co-ordination  of  the  more  comparable  poetic  forms  of  the  antique  and 
modern  world1.' 

Saintsbury  (A  History  of  Criticism,  Edinburgh,  1904)  has  an 
interesting  passage  in  which  he  says  that  Pater's  deliberate  blending 
of  different  arts  in  method  and  process  '...has  been  set  on  foot  by 
Lessing,  in  the  very  act  of  depreciating  and  exposing  clumsy  and  blind 
anticipations  of  it.' 

The  Quarterly  Review2  has  an  able  article  on  Sophocles  and  the 
Greek  Genius,  in  which  great  regret  is  expressed  that  Lessing  never 
completed  his  work  on  the  subject.  '  Even  now,  after  the  lapse  of 
nearly  a  century  and  a  half,  we  must  regret  that  Lessing  did  not 
achieve  what  he  projected,  for  he  combined  what  are  so  rarely  combined 
in  adequate  measure,  passion  and  erudition.  He  was  not  a  poet  who 
had  failed,  but  rather  a  critic  who  had  succeeded  in  creative  literature 
...he  would  have  treated  a  great  poet  as  only  a  great  poet  can.'  The 
reviewer  translates,  as  the  best  indication  of  Lessing's  attitude,  '  his 
own  noble  words '  from  the  Preface  to  Sophokles  ['  Man  gewinne  aber 
einen  alten  Schriftsteller  nur  erst  lieb...keine  Grammatiker,  keine 
Literatoren ']. 

(6)  Coleridge. 

Coleridge's  first  acquaintance  with  Lessing  was  gained  through  the 
Fragmente  eines  Ungenannten.  In  a  letter  to  Benjamin  Flower,  dated 
April  1, 17963,  he  thus  refers  to  the  work  :  'The  most  formidable  Infidel 
is  Lessing,  the  author  of  Emilia  Galotti :  I  ought  to  have  written  was, 
for  he  is  dead.  His  book  is  not  yet  translated,  and  is  entitled,  in 

1  Page  239.     He  refers,  of  course,  to  the  Dramaturgic. 

2  cxcvm  (1903),  pp.  319  f. 

3  Biograpiiia  Literaria,  London,  1847,  n,  p.  359. 


SYDNEY    H.    KENWOOD  349 

German,  "  Fragments  of  an  Anonymous  Author."  It  unites  the  wit  of 
Voltaire  with  the  subtlety  of  Hume  and  the  profound  erudition  of  our 
Lardner.  I  had  some  thoughts  of  translating  it,  with  an  Answer, 
but  gave  it  up  lest  men  whose  tempers  and  hearts  incline  them 
to  disbelief,  should  get  hold  of  it:  and  though  the  answers  are 
satisfactory  to  my  own  mind,  they  may  not  be  equally  so  to  the 
minds  of  others.' 

Soon  after  landing  in  Germany  in  1798,  Coleridge,  in  company  with 
Wordsworth,  visited  Klopstock.  At  that  time,  he  says,  he  was  ignorant 
of  Lessing  save  by  name.  Wordsworth  showed  nearer  information  by 
complaining  of  Nathan  as  tedious.  The  second  of  Satyrane's  Letters 
has  an  account  of  Lessing's  portrait.  At  the  beginning  of  September 
he  could  write  to  his  wife  that  Lessing  was  the  chief  object  of  his 
admiration.  Brandl  says  (p.  248) :  '  Mit  dem  Bilde  des  Mannes  vor 
Augen  warf  er  sich  auf  dessen  Schriffcen,  vor  allem  wohl  auf  die 
Dramaturgic  ...  Sie  leitete  ihn  an,  die  englische  Kunstkritik  zu 
reformiren . . .  Was  Coleridge  jetzt  von  Lessing  gewann,  hat  er  mit 
unverbltimter  Offenheit  selbst  bekannt,'  and  proceeds  to  quote  the 
passage  from  the  Biographia  Literaria,  xxni:  '  I  should  not  perhaps  go 
too  far'  etc.  Shawcross1  rightly  remarks  that  Coleridge  is  in  this  passage 
hardly  fair  to  his  own  countrymen  ;  but  it  is  an  excellent  appreciation  of 
Lessing  as  Shakespeare  critic  and  creative  artist.  In  the  Canterbury 
Magazine  (i,  p.  121)  is  the  famous  protest  against  Wordsworth's  state- 
ment (in  the  preface  to  the  second  edition  of  Lyrical  Ballads)  that 
Germans  had  in  some  respects  forestalled  Englishmen  in  a  right  under- 
standing of  Shakespeare.  '  Mr  Wordsworth . . .  has  affirmed  in  print 
that  a  German  critic  first  taught  us  to  think  correctly  concerning 
Shakespeare.'  Coleridge  seems  to  have  thought  that  the  '  German  critic ' 
to  whom  Wordsworth  did  not  refer  was  A.  W.  Schlegel.  Shawcross 
points  out  that  his  own  tribute  to  Lessing  (Biographia  Literaria,  xxin) 
was  much  more  of  a  concession  than  Wordsworth's  :  and  that  it  is  not 
necessary  to  regard  the  tribute  as  an  acknowledgment  of  his  own  debt. 
Yet  Brandl  would  seem  here  to  be  on  the  right  track.  Parallelisms  of 
thought  in  the  lectures,  etc.,  are  too  frequent  to  be  accidental2.  But 
Brandl  goes  too  far  in  supposing  that  Lessing  was  the  opener  of  a  sealed 
book.  It  is  more  reasonable  to  think  that  Coleridge  was  confirmed  in 
opinions,  already  acquired  from  others  or  privately  formed,  by  the 

1  Biographia  Literaria,  edited  by  J.  Shawcross,  Oxford,  1907. 

2  Cp.  Biographia  Literaria,  1817,  i,  p.  23;  n,  pp.  256  f.,  Lecture,  May  14,  1818,  also 
Bohn  389,  with  Hamburgische  Dramaturgic. 


350  Lessing  in  England 

authority  of  the  German  critic1.  His  real  debt  to  Lessing  consisted  in 
the  discipline  of  critical  method.  He  does  not  admit  as  much :  but  he 
calls  him  the  '  most  acute  of  critics '  (Biographia  Literaria,  x)  and  takes 
the  trouble  to  translate  in  his  own  defence  (Ibid,  xxi)  part  of  Anti- 
quarische  Briefe,  LVII. 

That  restrained  and  able  critic,  J.  L.  Haney,  in  his  short  work,  The 
German  Influence  on  S.  T.  Coleridge  (Philadelphia,  1902),  advances  a 
very  sane  view.  He  says  (p.  40) :  '  in  developing  the  general  ideas 
indicated  by  Lessing,  both  critics  [Coleridge  and  Schlegel]  would 
naturally  coincide  in  certain  utterances,  with  no  more  interdependence 
than  their  common  obligation  to  Lessing2... It  is  not  a  difficult  task  to 
read  a  great  amount  of  German  influence  into  Coleridge's  work  by 
insisting  on  the  misleading  doctrine  that  general  similarity  of  thought 
necessarily  implies  direct  connection3.  The  success  of  a  study  in  com- 
parative literature  on  that  basis  is  limited  only  by  the  critic's  store  of 
reading  and  his  memory.'  Haney 's  object  of  attack  here  is  almost 
certainly  Brandl4. 

It  is  greatly  to  be  regretted  that  Coleridge  never  wrote  his  pro- 
jected Life  of  Lessing,  and  still  more  that  he  never  produced  a  complete 
translation,  as  he  promised  Cottle  (Cottle,  p.  289).  He  stated  his 
intention  to  write  the  'Life  '  in  a  letter  to  Josiah  Wedgwood,  May  21, 
1799  (Cottle,  pp.  425  f.),  and  seems  to  have  been  really  in  earnest  if  we 
may  judge  from  the  very  frequent  references  he  makes  to  it.  Earlier 
than  to  Wedgwood  he  wrote  on  January  4,  1799,  to  Thomas  Poole  on 
the  same  subject ;  and  again  on  December  24,  1799,  this  time  to 
Southey.  But  on  January  25,  1800,  he  wrote  (to  the  same)  :  'As  to 
myself,  Lessing  is  out  of  the  question,'  though  to  Sir  Humphry  Davy 
on  October  9  of  the  same  year  he  again  proposed  '  to  attack '  the  work, 
albeit  the  'Essay  on  Poetry'  was  'still  more  at  his  heart5.'  Southey 

1  See  Shawcross,  note  to  Biographia  Literaria,  xxm :    also  Saintsbury,  History  of 
Criticism,  iv,  p.  223.     As  affording  some  small  support  for  the  theory  ventured  above 
(that  Lessing  mainly  refreshed  Coleridge's  memory)  it  is  interesting  to  note  the  mention 
in  Biographia  Literaria,  xxn,  of  Davenant's  forestalment  of  Lessing's  '  Dramatiker  kern 
Geschichtsschreiber '  in  Hamburgische  Dramaturgic,  xix. 

2  But  see  Satyrane's  Letters,  n  (pp.  261  f.,  in  Bohn's  edition)  for  some  fairly  advanced 
Shakespeare  criticism,  and  for  Coleridge's  remark :  '  this  last  sheet  [which  contains  the 
passage]  I  might  have  written  without  having  gone  to  Germany.' 

3  Coleridge  himself  warned  his  readers  in  similar  terms  anent  his  relation  to  Schelling 
(Biographia  Literaria). 

4  Who,  for  instance  (p.  281),  is  able  to  trace  great  part  of  Lamb's  view  of  Shakespeare 
back  to  Lessing  through  Coleridge.     Brandl  is,  however,  always  interesting,  if  sometimes 
too  suggestive.     He  would  appear,  for  example,  to  be  quite  justified  in  tracing  Coleridge's 
'  Selbstkritik '  of  Osorio  (Carlyon,  Early  Years  and  Later  Reflections,  i,  p.  143)  to  the 
influence  of  Hamburgische  Dramaturgic,  i. 

5  All  these  letters  are  included  in  Letters  of  S.  T.  Coleridge,  ed.  by  E.  H.  Coleridge, 
2  vols.  1895. 


SYDNEY    H.    KENWOOD 


351 


enquired  in  March  1801  :  '  Must  Lessing  wait  for  the  Resurrection 
before  he  receives  a  new  life  ? ?1  Sou  they,  writing  to  William  Taylor 
September  1,  1799  (Robberds,  I,  p.  294),  announces  the  work;  Taylor 
on  October  18  of  the  same  year  tells  Sou  they  it  '  may  well  be  made  as 
interesting  as  Warton  on  the  Genius  and  Writings  of  Pope  '  (Robberds, 
I,  p.  296).  Southey  again  refers  to  it  in  a  letter  to  Taylor  from  Lisbon, 
November  26,  1800  (Robberds,  I,  p.  363) :  but  in  1805  he  informed 
Taylor  that  although  Coleridge  had  made  ample  collection  for  the  work 
nothing  was  ever  written  (Robberds,  II,  pp.  75  f.).  Brandl  says  (p.  300) 
that  he  gave  up  the  idea  in  1803  on  the  appearance  of  Godwin's  work  on 
Chaucer,  which  fired  him  with  a  desire  to  criticize  that  poet  by  com- 
parison with  his  contemporaries,  predecessors  and  followers:  and 
Shawcross,  in  his  edition  of  the  Biographia  Liter  aria  (Oxford,  1907), 
remarks :  'But  all  that  Coleridge  had  to  learn  from  Lessing  was  quickly 
learnt :  and  the  abandonment  of  the  projected  Life  was  probably  not 
more  due  to  vacillation  of  purpose  than  to  his  loss  of  interest  in  the 
subject  itself.' 

No  other  work  of  Coleridge's  shows  the  impress  of  Lessing's 
influence  so  unmistakeably  as  the  Confessions.  Brandl  (p.  412)  gives 
an  excellent  sketch  of  the  Englishman's  indebtedness  in  this  book,  and 
Cairns2  observes  (p.  209) :  '  Coleridge  in  his  Confessions  of  an  Inquiring 
Spirit  has  taken  substantially  the  same  ground  with  Lessing.' 


(c)  Theological  Influence. 

Lessing's  religious  views,  possibly  because  of  their  largely  negative 
character,  were  never  gathered  up  by  himself  into  a  dogmatic  system  ; 
whence  it  comes  that  his  ideas  on  the  subject,  valuable  as  they  are, 
have  really  influenced  those  only  who  could  make  a  worthy  acquaintance 
with  his  works.  Even  to-day,  among  cultured  Englishmen,  the  religion 
of  Lessing  stands  often  for  a  vague  Theism  on  the  strength  of  a  super- 
ficial acquaintance  with  Nathan  der  Weise.  Save  on  the  ground  of  his 
Unitarian  prejudices  it  is  difficult  to  account  for  the  somewhat  similar 
attitude  of  William  Taylor,  who,  for  example,  mentions  Lessing's  name 
as  one  of  those  authors  who  strengthened  the  convictions  of  Dr  Frank 
Sayers,  a  prominent  member  of  Taylor's  sect3.  He  tell  us  in  his  Survey 

1  Life  and  Correspondence  of  E.  Southey,  1849,  n,  p.  139. 

a  J.'Cairns,  Unbelief  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  Edinburgh,  1881,  pp.  184—217. 

3  Collective  Works  of  the  late  Dr  Sayers,  to  which  have  been  prefixed  some  Biographic 
Particulars,  by  W.  Taylor  of  Norwich.  Norwich,  1823,  Vol.  i,  p.  xxi.  See  also  Quarterly 
Revieiv,  LXXIII  (1844),  p.  65. 


352  Lessing  in  England 

that  his  own  translation  of  Nathan  'was  undertaken  in  March  1790, 
when  questions  of  toleration  were  much  afloat,'  being  intended,  pre- 
sumably, to  help  that  cause.  He  further  states  that  Cumberland's 
comedy  The  Jew,  which  promoted  toleration  of  the  race  in  England, 
drew  inspiration  from  German  sources :  but  whether  from  Lessing  or  no 
I  have  been  unable  to  determine1.  The  Observer  of  Cumberland  also 
has  an  attractive  Jew :  and  there  is  of  course  Joshua  too  in  Smollett's 
Count  Fathom*.  In  fact,  there  was  a  wave  of  toleration  at  the  end  of 
the  eighteenth  century.  It  produced  '  philanthropic  Jews,  virtuous 
courtezans,  tender-hearted  braziers,  sentimental  rat-catchers3 ' ;  and  it 
would  be  bold  indeed  even  to  suggest  that  Lessing  had  anything  to  do 
with  it. 

That  extraordinary  person,  Herbert  Marsh,  Bishop  of  Peterborough, 
seems  to  have  been  the  first  to  recognize  Lessing's  theological  im- 
portance. He  published  his  annotated  edition  of  Michaelis'  Einleitung 
in  1793 — 1801.  He  quotes,  without  acknowledgment,  in  a  note  to 
Vol.  I,  p.  72 :  '  The  truth  of  Christianity  might  subsist  without  a  single 
record :  for  who  would  undertake  to  demonstrate,  that,  if  the  New 
Testament  were  annihilated,  our  religion  would  therefore  cease  to  be 
true  ? '  But  he  mentions  Lessing  in  a  note  to  Vol.  I,  p.  76,  where  he 
says :  '  The  Wolfenbiittel  Fragments,  though  published,  were  not 
written  by  Lessing.'  Further  references  by  name  are  in  Vol.  ill, 
pp.  5,  31.  In  a  Dissertation  of  1801  Marsh  gives  an  account  (pp.  21 — 5) 
of  Lessing's  theory  of  the  origin  of  the  Gospels,  which  forms  part  of  the 
Theologischer  Nachlass  published  in  1784.  Marsh  adopted  the  theory 
in  company  with  Niemeyer,  Michaelis,  'Halfeld  and  Paulus. 

Pusey  published  in  1828  his  great  Historical  Enquiry.  The 
apparent  rarity  of  the  book,  its  importance  for  our  subject,  and  its  lack 
of  index,  must  excuse  my  lengthy  excerpts.  Pusey,  who  even  now  is 
blamed  for  '  narrowness,'  was  the  first  Englishman  to  do  full  and  under- 
standing justice  to  Lessing  the  theologian.  At  p.  51,  Part  I,  he  says  : 
'  There  are  few  probably  who  would  not  have  been  confirmed  in  their 
difficulties  by  such  an  antagonist  as  Goze,  who  seems  to  have  sought  a 
triumph  over,  rather  than  the  conviction  of  his  sceptical,  but  probably 
more  Christian  opponent.'  In  a  footnote  he  adds :  '  I  know  not  any 
man  whose  scepticism  gives  one  more  pain,  excites  more  regret,  than 

1  The  play  was  certainly  very  popular,  as  a  glance  at  the  '  Theatrical  Eegisters '  of  the 
Gentleman's  Magazine  (1794)  will  show.    See  William  Mudford's  Life  of  Cumberland  (1812), 
pp.  549—52. 

2  See  also  Maria  Edgeworth's  Harrington. 

3  Satyrane's  Letters,  n  (p.  261  of  Bonn's  edition). 


SYDNEY    H.    KENWOOD 


353 


that  of  Lessing —  He  first  pointed  out  the  impregnable  bulwark  of 
religion  against  all  scientific  objections,  which  has  since  been  philo- 
sophically justified,  that  the  foundation,  the  original  seat  of  religion  is 
in  the  feeling,  not  in  the  understanding.'  He  then  proceeds  to  translate 
passages  of  Lessing,  collected  in  Twesten's  Dogmatik,  in  support  of  his 
view.  At  p.  155,  Part  I,  he  further  remarks :  '  It  is  difficult  to 
appreciate  how  far  Lessing  stood  within  Christianity  :  how  far  his  high 
value  for  it  went  beyond  an  objective  esteem  for  its  contents :  how  far 
his  conception  of  "  its  internal  holy  truth  "  enabled  him  to  overcome 
his  historical  and  doctrinal  difficulties  and  his  inclination  to  Pantheism, 
and  to  appropriate  it  to  himself  independently  of  its  historical  basis. 
A  too  predominant  indulgence  of  the  taste  for  elegant  literature  and  the 
arts,  in  which  he  was  so  great  a  master,  seem  [sic]  to  have  enervated  in 
him  the  moral  earnestness,  and  precluded  him  from  the  self-knowledge, 
necessary  for  a  thorough  and  satisfactory  examination ;  and  though  he 
perhaps  rightly  preferred  Pantheism  to  the  then  existing  systems,  he 
had  neither  boldness  to  take  the  saltum  mortalem,  by  which  Jacobi 
escaped  it,  nor  a  philosophy  sufficiently  deep  to  see  the  deficiencies  of 
Pantheism  itself.'  In  a  footnote  Pusey  observes  that  in  Uber  die 
naturliche  Religion  Lessing  explains  Christianity  by  means  of  Pantheism. 
'  Yet  whatever  place  he  may  himself  have  occupied,  he  rendered  con- 
siderable services  to  Christianity... he  restored  the  key  to  the  right 
understanding  of  the  Old  Testament  as  the  preliminary  education  of 
the  human  race,  and  removed  the  superficial  objections  against  the 
particularism  of  the  earlier  revelation,  and  the  omission  of  a  future 
state ;  and  which  was  yet  more  important,  the  change  which  he  mainly 
produced  in  the  too  abstract  systems  of  the  then  Apologists,  and  his 
referring  to  the  Bible  itself  as  its  own  best,  or,  as  he  held,  its  only 
advocate.  He  further... pointed  out  the  limits  of  the  empire  of  reason 
by  admitting  that  though  reason  must  decide  whether  a  given  system 
be  a  revelation  or  no,  yet  if  it  find  in  that  revelation  things  it  cannot 
explain,  this  should  rather  determine  it  for  it  than  against  it.  . ..the  ser- 
vices... which  he  rendered  were,  it  seems,  rather  external  to  Christianity, 
in  preparing  the  way  for  a  higher  order  of  Christian  apologetic  authors, 
than  any  direct  illustrations  of  its  truths.'  In  a  footnote- Pusey  adds, 
anent  the  Erziehung,  that  '  his  concise  but  deep  and  much-containing 
essay...  has...  much  that  is  valuable,'  though  'A  Christian  would  indeed 
defend  some  things  differently,  and  the  Pantheistic  scheme  lies  as  the 
basis.'  In  another  footnote  (pp.  149  f.)  he  refers  also  to  Lessing's  figure 
of  the  wall  between  religion  and  philosophy,  etc. :  while  in  yet  another 


354  Lessing  in  England 

(p.  136)  he  quotes  the  insistent  claim  that  '  the  inward  holy  truth  ' 
must  precede  historical  and  doctrinal  understanding.  There  is  further 
reference  to  Lessing  (in  answer  to  Rose's  attack)  in  Part  II,  p.  53. 

Rose's  attack  is  unimportant  for  us :  his  knowledge  of  Lessing  was 
apparently  at  second-hand.  The  next  person  who  calls  for  notice  is 
Bishop  Connop  Thirlwall,  the  able  translator  of  Schleiermacher.  In 
his  Eighth  Charge  (1863  ;  Vol.  II,  p.  78)  we  find :  '  An  eminent  writer 
of  the  last  century;  who  may  be  called  the  father  of  German  rationalism, 
startled  his  contemporaries  by  the  assertion,  that  as  religion  was  before 
the  Bible,  so  it  might  continue  to  subsist  though  the  Bible  should  be 
lost.'  Thirlwall  proceeds  to  say  that  if  the  religion  meant  were 
Christianity,  the  proposition  is  '  an  idle  surmise,  impossible  to  verify ' ; 
if  Natural  Religion,  it  is  treating  Christianity  as  only  a  form  of  that. 
In  a  footnote  he  complains  that  neither  Gurlitt1  nor  Farrar2  accurately 
reports  Lessing,  and  gives  a  translation  of  Axiomata,  v,  vi  and  vm. 

In  Home's  Introduction,  IV  (London,  1856),  p.  646,  is  the  extra- 
ordinary statement  that  Lessing  'asserted  in  1784'  his  Gospel  hypothesis. 
The  edition  referred  to  (the  tenth)  is  that  of  Samuel  Davidson,  the 
liberal  N.onconformist,  who  ought  to  have  known  better. 

Next  in  order  comes  Temple's  essay  in  Essays  and  Reviews,  1861. 
The  Erziehung  had  already  appeared  in  Robertson's  translation  (1858), 
and  there  is  little  doubt  that  Temple  drew  his  inspiration  thence, 
though  the  Contemporary  Review  for  1862,  pp.  445  £,  and  the  Quarterly 
Review,  1862,  p.  472,  give  parallel  passages  from  Hegel's  Philosophie 
der  Geschichte.  Sandford 3  admits  '  acquaintance '  with  Hegel,  but 
ascribes  chief  influence  to  Kant  and  Coleridge.  In  any  case  Lessing 
would  seem  to  be  the  ultimate  source,  for  Hegel  makes  no  secret  of  his 
obligations.  No.  1  of  Replies  to  Essays  and  Reviews,  by  Goulburn,  is 
a  direct  charge  of  indebtedness  to  Lessing.  I  have  been  unable  to  find 
in  Goulburn's  other  works  the  least  evidence  that  he  could  read  German. 
He  quotes  in  full  Sections  72 — 75  from  the  translation  of  Robertson,  and 
faintly  praises  Lessing,  though  he  finds  him  sometimes  '  extravagant ' 
and  '  flagrantly  unsound.'  He  admits  his  own  '  narrow  acquaintance ' 
with  German  theology. 

W.  E.  H.  Lecky  in  his  History  of  Rationalism  says  that  Lessing, 
with  Kant,  did  most  to  supply  the  principles  of  Biblical  criticism. 
Appreciations  of  and  references  to  Lessing's  theological  position  will 

1  Theologische  Studien,  1863,  p.  763. 

2  Bampton  Lectures,  1862,  p.  319. 

3  E.  G.  Sandford,  Frederick  Temple;  an  Appreciation,  London,  1907,  p.  232.    Memoirs 
of  Frederick  Temple,  by  seven  friends,  ed.  by  E.  G.  Sandford,  London,  1906,  vol.  n,  p.  607. 


SYDNEY   H.    KENWOOD  355 

be  found  in  rich  number  in  English  theological  literature  since  the  days 
of  Marsh  and  Pusey. 

Modern  acquiescence  in  Lessing's  doctrine  of  the  uselessness  of 
history  as  a  foundation  for  religious  belief  is  seen  perhaps  in  its 
extreme  form  in  the  opinions  of  the  Abbe  Loisy  and  his  school1. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY. 
TRANSLATIONS  AND  NOTICES. 

1.  Fables  from  the  German.     Translated  by  J.  Richardson.     York,  1-773.     8vo. 
[See  Monthly  Review,  xxxvi  (1767),  p.  575;  LII  (1775),  p.  444.] 

2.  Nathan  the    Wise.     A  philosophical  drama.     Translated  by  R,   E.   Raspe. 
London,  1781.     8vo.     [See    Westminster  Magazine,  1781,  p.   549;    Critical  Review, 
LII  (1781),  p.  236;  Monthly  Review,  LXVI  (1782),  pp.  307  f.] 

3.  A  Critical  Essay  on  Oil-Painting.     Translated  by  R.  E.  Raspe.     London, 
1781.     4to.     [See  Monthly  Review,  LII  (1775),  p.  444  ;  Critical  Review,  LI.] 

4.  The  Disbanded  Officer,  or  the  Baroness  of  Bruchsal.     A  comedy.     London, 
1786.     8vo.     [Monthly  Review,   LXXV   (1786),  pp.    139—42;    Critical  Review,  LXII 
(1786),  pp.  203  f.;    English  Review,  vm  (1786),  pp.   348—55;    Theatrical  Register 
(York),  i,  p.  30;   European  Magazine  (1786),  p.  61.] 

5.  Emilia  Galotti.     [Partially  translated,  with  a  connecting  narrative  by  Henry 
Maty,  in  A  New  Review,  ix  (1786),  pp.  38—49,  122—5.] 

6.  Lucy  Sampson,   or    the    Unhappy   Heyress.      Translated   by  a  Citizen   of 
Philadelphia.     Philadelphia,  1789.     8vo.     [See  Todt,  Lessing  in  England,  p.  60, 
Anm.  33.] 

7.  A  Dissertation  on  the  Dramatic  Art.     [In  The  Literary  Magazine  and  British 
Review,  n  (1789),  pp.  340—4.] 

8.  Nathan  the   Wise.     A  dramatic  Poem,  written  originally  in  German.     [By- 
William  Taylor  of  Norwich.]     Norwich,   1791.     8vo.     Reprinted  (a)  in  Historic 
Survey  ;   (6)  London,  1805 ;   (c)  Tauchnitz  Collection  of  German  Authors,  Leipzig, 
1868 ;    (d)  Cassell's  National  Library,  No.  38,  London,  1886.     [Annual  Review,  vi, 
p.  634;  Poetical  Register  (1805),  p.  501;  Edinburgh  Review,  vm  (1806),  pp.  149  f. ; 
British   Critic,  xxvn    (1806),  p.  549;    Monthly  Review,  XLIX  (1806),  pp.  243—8; 
Retrospective  Review,  x  (1824),  pp.  265—85.     Cp.  also  Robberds'  Memoir,  n,  pp.  129, 
135.] 

9.  The  Fatal  Elopement.    A  Tragedy.     [In  The  Lady's  Magazine,  1799—1800.] 

10.  Emilia  Galotti.     [Translated  by  Berrington,  and  in  all  probability  never 
printed.]     London,  1794. 

11.  The  School  for  Honour,  or  the  Chance  of  War.     A  Comedy  in  five  acts. 
Translated  from  the  German  of  Lessing.     London,  1799.     8vo.     [Monthly  Review 
(1799),  xxx,  p.  211 ;  Critical  Review  (1799),  xxvn,  p.  114 ;  British  Critic,  xvn  (1801), 
p.  314.] 

1  See  the  American  Journal  of  Theology,  October,  1911,  p.  587.  For  a  succinct 
statement  of  the  same  position  see  also  Dr  G.  Salmon,  Evolution  and  Other  Papers, 
London,  1906,  p.  42. 


356  Lessing  in  England 

12.  Emilia    Galotti.      A   Tragedy  in    five    Acts.      Translated    by    Benjamin 
Thompson.      London,    1801.      8vo.      [In   Vol.   vi   of  The   German    Theatre.      See 
Poetical  Register,  I,  p.  458.] 

13.  Emilia  Galotti.     A  Tragedy  in  five  Acts.     Translated  by  Fanny  Holcroft. 
London,  1805.    [In  Vol.  I  of  The  Theatrical  Recorder,  by  Thomas  Holcroft.    Eeprinted 
January,  1810,  as  supplement  to  The  Mirror  of  Taste  and  Dramatic  Censor  (Phila- 
delphia), Vol.  i.    See  also  ibid,  n,  pp.  95  f.  and  pp.  204  f.,  for  T.  Holcroft's  Remarks.} 

14.  Minna  von  Barnhelm.     A  Comedy  in  five  Acts.     Translated  by  Fanny 
Holcroft.     London,  1806.     [In  Theatrical  Recorder,  n,  pp.  213—60.] 

15.  The  Education  of  the  Human  Race.     [Translated  by  Crabb  Robinson  in 
The  Monthly  Repository  of  Theology  and  General  Literature,  I  (1806),  pp.  412  f. 
The  same  volume  (pp.  183—5)  contains  also  Robinson's  version  of  Eine  ParabeL 
Another  translation  of  this  is  The  Palace  on  Fire  in  The  German  Museum,  in, 
p.  345.] 

16.  Faust.     [Translated  in  Lord  F.  Leveson-Gower's  version  of  Goethe's  Faust. 
London,   1823.]     [Edinburgh   Review,   XL   (July,    1824),   by   Hazlitt ;    Macmillan's 
Magazine,  LXII  (1890),  pp.  180—8,  by  T.  B.  Saunders.] 

17.  Fables  and  Epigrams;    with   Essays  on  Fable  and  Epigram.     From  the 
German  of  Lessing.     London,  1825.     8vo. 

18.  Laocoon.    [Incompletely  translated  by  De  Quincey  in  Blackwood's  Magazine, 
xx  (1826),  xxi  (1827).     See  also  xvi  (1824),  pp.  312—6.] 

19.  G.  E.  Lessing 's  Fables.     In  three  Books.     London,  1829.     8vo.     [German 
and  English.     See  Athenaeum  (1828),  p.  691.] 

20.  Laocoon,   or   the    Limits   of  Poetry  and  Painting.     Translated   from   the 
German  of  G.  E.  Lessing  by  W.  Ross.     London,  1836.     8vo.     [See  American  Whig 
Review,  xni  (1851),  p.  17.] 

21.  Three  Comedies.     Translated  from  the  German  of  G.  E.  Lessing.     By  the 
Rev.  J.  J.  Holroyd.     Colchester,  1838.     8vo.     [Freygeist,  Schatz  and  Minna.} 

22.  Fables  and  Parables.     From  the  German  of  Lessing,  etc.     London  [1845]. 
12mo. 

23.  Emilia  Galotti.     [Democratic  Review  (New  York),  xxn  (1848),  pp.  511  f. : 
Act  i;  xxin  (1848),  pp.  237  f.,  348  f. :  Acts  ii  and  in  ;  pp.  421  f.,  525  f. :  Acts  iv 
and  v.] 

24.  Minna  von  Barnhelm.     [Democratic  Review,  xxiv  (1849),  pp.  176,  225,  345, 
436,  535  f. :  Acts  i— iv ;  xxv  (1849),  pp.  56  f. :  Act  v.] 

25.  Emilia  Galotti.    A  Tragedy.     Translated  by  R.  D.  Boylan  and  H.  G.  Bohn. 
London,  1852.     8vo.     [Re-issued  in  the  collection  of  1878.] 

26.  Laocoon :  an  Essay  on  the  Limits  of  Painting  and  Poetry.     Translated  from 
the  German  by  E.  C.  Beasley.     With  an  Introduction  by  T.  Burbridge.     London, 
1853.     8vo.     [Re-issued  in  the  collection  of  1879,  and  in  Bonn's  Shilling  Library, 
1888.     See  New  Englander,  xxxiv  (1875),  p.  555.] 

27.  The  Education  of  the  Human  Race.     From  the  German  of  G.  E.  Lessing. 
[By  F.  W.  Robertson  of  Brighton.]     London,  1858.     8vo.     [3rd  Ed.,  London,  1872. 
16mo.     4th  Ed.,  revised  by  C.  B.  Robertson,  London,  1896.     16mo.] 

28.  Minna  von  Barnhelm;  or  a  Soldier's  Fortune.    A  Comedy  in  five  Acts,  from 
the  German.     Translated  into  English,  together  with  notes  in  German,  by  W.  E. 
Wrankmore.     Leipzig,  1858.     8vo. 

29.  Lessing' s  German  Fables  in  prose  and  verse.   With  a  close  English  Translation 
and  brief  Notes.     London,  1860.     8vo. 


SYDNEY    H.    KENWOOD  357 

30.  Nathan  the    Wise;    a  Dramatic  Poem  in  Jive  Acts.     Translated  from  the 
German  with  a  Biography  of  Lessing  and  a  Critical  Survey  of  his  Position  by 
Dr  A.  Reich.     London,  1860.     12mo. 

31.  Cambridge   Free   Thoughts  and  Letters   on  Bibliolatry.     Translated  from 
G.    E.    Lessing   by  H.   H.   Bernard,   edited  by  I.   Bernard.     London,  1862.     8vo. 
[Contains  Eine  Parabel,  Axiomata,  and  Anti-Goeze.] 

32.  Nathan  the   Wise.     Translated  by  E.  Frothingham.     Preceded  by  a  brief 
Account  of  the  Poet  and  his  Works  [signed  H.  H.  ?  Herman  HagerJ  and  followed  by 
K.  Fischer's  Essay  on  the  Poem.     New  York,  1868.     12mo. 

33.  Nathan  the  Wise :  a  Dramatic  Poem.     From  the  German.     With  an  Intro- 
duction on  Lessing  and  the  Nathan,  its  antecedents  and  influence,  by  R[obert] 
W[illis],  M.D.     London,  1868.     8vo.     [See  London  Society,  LVIII  (1890),  pp.  577  f. 
Lessing  by  Joseph  Forster,  with  quotations  in  Willis's  translation.] 

34.  Emilia   Galotti.     Translated   by  C.   L.   Lewis.     Leipzig,   1868.     8vo.     [In 
Vol.  ix  of  Tauchnitz's  Collection  of  German  Authors.] 

35.  Laocoon,  an  Essay  upon  the  Limits  of  Painting  and  Poetry.     Translated  by 
E.   Frothingham.     Boston,  1874.     8vo.     [London,  1874.     Reprinted,  Boston,  1880 
and  1887.] 

36.  Laocoon.     Translated  from  the  Text  of  Lessing,  with  Preface  and  Notes 
by  Sir  Robert  Phillimore.     With   Illustrations.     London,  1874.     8vo.     [See  New 
Englander,  xxxiv  (1875),  pp.  555  f.,  an  able  and  damaging  criticism  by  F.  Carter.] 

37.  Nathan  the  Wise:  a  Drama  in  five  Acts.    Abridged  and  translated  from  the 
German  by  E.  S.  H.     London,  1874.     4to.     [In  prose.    The  publishers  are  unaware 
of  the  identity  of  the  translator,  all  concerned  in  the  publication  being  long  since 
dead.] 

38.  Nathan  the   Wise :  a  Dramatic  Poem.     Translated  into  English  verse  by 
Andrew  Wood.     London,  1877.     8vo. 

39.  The  Dramatic   Works  of  G.   E.  .Lessing.     Translated  from  the   German  : 
edited  by  Ernest  Bell.    With  a  short  Memoir  by  Helen  Zimmern.    2  vols.    London, 
1878.     8vo.     [A  complete  collection,  save  for  fragments.     Nation,  xxvin  (1878), 
p.  154.] 

40.  Selected  Prose  Works  of  G.  E.  Lessing.     Translated  from  the  German  by 
E.  C.  Beasley  and  Helen  Zimmern.     Edited  by  Edward  Bell.     London,  1879.     8vo. 
[Contains  Wie  die  Alien  den  Tod  gebildet  (Beasley)  and  Hamburgische  Dramaturgic 
(Zimmern).     See  Nation,  xxix,  p.  390.] 

41.  Fragments  from  Reimarus,  consisting  of  brief  Critical  Remarks  on  the  Object 
of  Jesus  and  His  disciples,  as  seen  in  the  New   Testament.     Translated  from  Jthe 
German  of  G.  E.  Lessing.     London,  1879.     8vo.     [Edited,  but  not  translated,  by 
the  Rev.  C.  Voysey.] 

42.  Lessing' 's  Nathan  the  Wise.    Translated  into  English  Verse  by  E.  K.  Corbett, 
with  Introduction  and  Notes.     London,  1883.     8vo. 

43.  Nathan  the  Wise.     Translated  by  William  Jacks.     Introduction  by  F.  W. 
Farrar.     Edinburgh,  1894.     8vo. 

44.  The  Laocoon  and  other  Prose   Writings.     Translated  and  edited  by  W.  B. 
Ronnfeldt.     London,  1895.     8vo. 

45.  Nathan  the   Wise,  Translated  with  an  Introduction  and  Notes  by  Major- 
General  Patrick  Maxwell.     London,  1896.     8vo. 

46.  Minna  von  Barnhelm,  or  a  Soldier's  Luck.     Translated  with  Introduction 
and  Notes  by  Patrick  Maxwell.     London,  1899.     8vo. 


358  Lessing  in  England 

The  fragmentary  translations  indicated  in  the  following  works  are  also  of  some 
small  importance  on  account  of  their  comparatively  early  date. 

German  Poetical  Anthology.  By  A.  Bernays.  London,  1829.  8vo.  [pp.  46  f. : 
'The  Three  Kings';  notice  of  Lessing,  pp.  xix,  xx;  Taylor's  Nathan  and  Survey 
referred  to,  p.  xlviii.] 

Fragments  from  German  Prose  Writers.  Translated  by  Sarah  Austin.  London, 
1841.  8vo.  [Extracts,  pp.  20,  22,  30,  40,  all  admirably  translated.  Notice  of 
Lessing,  p.  295.  See  also  Mrs  Austin's  Characteristics  of  Goethe,  London,  1834,  n, 
p.  140,  and  an  important  article  (signed  '  S.  A.,'  in  all  probability  from  her  pen)  in 
Blackwood's  Magazine,  xvm  (1825),  pp.  286  f.  Mrs  Austin  was  one  of  the  Taylors 
of  Norwich.] 

SYDNEY  H.  KENWOOD. 

GlGGLESWICK. 


<VON   DEM  BLUMLIN   VERGISSMEINNIT.' 

A   MIDDLE-HIGH-GERMAN    POEM. 

Vom  dem  blumlin  Vergissmeinnit  is  the  title  of  a  hitherto  unpub- 
lished poem  contained  in  the  Add.  MS.  24,946  of  the  British  Museum 
(fol.  53  f.).  This  manuscript,  which  belongs  to  the  fourteenth  or  early 
fifteenth  century,  has  been  sufficiently  described  by  Baechtold,  Deutsche 
Hcmdschriften  aus  dem  Brit.  Museum,  and  R.  Priebsch,  Deutsche  Hand- 
schriften  in  England,  II  (1901),  p.  215  f.1  The  poem  itself  is  immediately 
preceded  in  the  MS.  by  37  poems  of  the  Teichner — an  Austrian  poet 
of  the  fourteenth  century  and  author  of  a  number  of  didactic  poems — 
and  is  entered  by  the  same  hand  as  these.  The  same  MS.  also  contains 
two  of  Peter  Suchenwirt's  poems,  viz.  di  schon  abenteuer  (fol.  8)  and 
der  widertail  (fol.  148),  both  of  which  are  similar  in  nature  to  our  poem 
and  open  in  almost  exactly  the  same  way,  i.e.,  with  a  description  of 
the  'maienzeit.'  Such  openings  are  however  characteristic  of  this 
period2. 

Vom  dem  blumlin  Vergissmeinnit  belongs  to  the  class  of  poems 
generally  known  as  Spruche  or  Spruchgedichte,  very  common  in  Germany 
at  that  epoch.  It  bears  a  strong  resemblance  both  in  form  and  contents 
to  a  poem  contained  in  the  collection  known  as  the  Liederbuch  der 
Clara  Hdtzlerin  entitled  Von  manigerlay  plumlin  which  treats  of  the 
symbolic  meanings  of  flowers.  But  this  similarity  was  almost  inevitable 
in  two  poems  of  this  type  which  treat  of  the  same  subject.  The  method 
of  treatment  varied  little  in  the  allegorical  love  poetry  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  and  the  descriptions  had  become  so  stereotyped  that  we  meet 
on  all  hands  such  lines  as : 

gruenes  gras  was  sin  obdach. 
gen  der  liechten  sunnen  prehen. 
die  vogel  sungen  in  den  esten.     etc. 

1  Professor  Priebsch  first  drew  my  attention  to  the  poem  and  has  also  aided  with  his 
advice,  especially  in  respect  of  the  metre  of  the  poem. 

2  Of.  K.  Matthaei,  Das  weltliche  Klosterlein  (Dissert.),  Marburg,  1907,  p.  30. 


360  '  Von  dem  blwnlin   Veryissmeinnit ' 

Moreover,  the  subject  treated  was  a  favourite  one  and  did  not  lend 
itself  to  great  originality.  From  the  earliest  times  flowers  have  been 
endowed  by  popular  tradition  with  certain  qualities,  and  during  the 
middle  ages  it  became  a  favourite  practice  to  symbolize  the  quality  by 
means  of  the  flower.  The  same  sort  of  symbolism  was  much  in  vogue 
with  regard  to  colours,  and  it  is  difficult  to  say  whether  the  colours1  lent 
their  symbolic  qualities  to  the  flowers  or  the  flowers  to  the  colours. 
There  is  a  good  deal  to  be  said  for  the  former  of  these  two  possibilities, 
as  the  poems  which  are  earlier  in  date  seem  to  refer  more  exclusively 
to  the  colour,  whereas  the  later  poems  merely  endow  the  flowers  with 
the  virtues  of  their  respective  colours.  Thus  '  rot  brynnt  in  der  lieb  y 
and  '  plan  bedeutet  stattikeit '  were  common  traditions  before  the  rose 
had  become  the  symbol  of  passionate  love  or  the  forget-me-not  that  of 
constancy. 

As  regards  this  latter  flower  and  its  suggestive  name,  there  are 
many  legends  current  in  Germany  which  purport  to  account  for  its 
peculiar  significance2. 

It  is  impossible  to  say  with  certainty  when  or  where  the  name 
originated,  but  at  all  events  it  scon  became  very  popular  with  the 
poets,  and  opinion  was  unanimous  as  to  the  qualities  of  the  flower. 
These  are  summed  up  in  a  short  prose  treatise  of  the  fifteenth  century 
(cf.  Grimm,  Altdeutsche  W alder,  i.  151)  which  runs  as  follows:  'ein 
blumelin  heisset  Vergissmeinnit,  dem  das  enpholen  wirt,  der  magk  woel 
frohlichs  muts  sin ;  der  iss  von  ime  selbe  dregt,  der  wiele  [=wolle]  sins 
liebs  nit  vergessen  zu  keiner  zit.'  The  flower  itself  cannot  be  identified 
with  any  degree  of  certainty.  The  early  botanical  dictionaries  are  not 
always  in  accord  with  each  other  and  are  far  from  being  trustworthy. 
Grimm  has  identified  the  forget-me-not  with  the  '  Wunderblume '  or 
'  Schliisselblume,'  but  this  does  not  seem  to  have  been  the  view  of  the 
older  botanists.  Lyte  (Histoire  des  Plantes,  1557)  gives  '  Schliissel- 
blume '  as  the  German  equivalent  for  the  '  petit-bouillon,'  an  entirely 
different  flower.  For  '1'herbe  au  scorpion'  he  gives  the  German 
'  hasenoore '  (='  aureille  de  lieure ')  which  corresponds  to  the  early  Eng- 

1  Matthaei,  op.  clt.,  pp.  27  f. 

2  Cf.  Warnke,  Pflanzen  in  Sitte,  Sage  und  Geschichte;  also  Folkard,  Plantlore,  Legend 
and  Lyric,  which  contain  most  of  the  ordinary  legends.     A  less  known  one  is  to  be  found 
in  Hoffmann  von  Fallersleben,  Horae  Belgicae,  xn,  p.  49,  where,  quoting  from  Frisch, 
Worterbuch,  i,  p.  346,  he  says :   '  1st  eigentlich  ein  Kraut,  dessen  Blumenstengel  oben  in 
einem  Schnecken  King  liegt,  und  viel  Bliitknopflein  hat,  von  denen  alle  Tage  einige 
aufbliihen,  bis  auch  die  Spit/e  gerade  wird.     Von  welcher  Blume  einige  in  Scherz  erne 
Application  auf  das  Andenken  der  Freundschaft  und  der  Liebe  gemacht,  welche  immer 
neu  aufbliihen  soil  und  deswegen  einander  diese  Blume  gezeigt,  wovon   ihr  der  Name 
Yergissmeinnicht  geblieben  ist.' 


JESSIE    CROSLAND  361 

lish  name  '  mouse-ear  scorpion  grass '  often  applied  to  the  ordinary 
forget-me-not  (Myosotis  palustris).  Hieronymus  Bock  (1560)  classifies 
the  forget-me-not  under  '  gamander,'  and  gives  as  variants  the  names 
'  blomenderlin,'  '  gamanderlin,'  '  Weiberhelfft,'  '  Frauenbiss,'. . .'  darumb 
dass  das  Krautlein  in  der  mitten  seines  Herzn  beraubt  ist  |  bluet  auf 
beden  seitten  mit  bloen  blumlin  |  wie  gauchheil...u.s.w/ (cf.  Krduter- 
buch,  LXXV).  Lonicerus  (Krduterbuch,  1560)  informs  us  concerning  the 
'  Vergissmeinnicht  (item  frauenbiss,  helfft),'  that  'die  Wurzel  angehenckt 
soil  die  Biiler  holdselig  und  werdt  machen.' 

But  it  was  a  more  scientific  age  which  transferred  the  virtues  of  the 
flower  to  the  root  and,  in  order  to  take  account  of  the  poetical  signi- 
ficance of  the  flower,  we  must  go  back  a  century  and  a  half,  to  a  time 
when  it  formed  one  of  the  conventional  themes  of  amorous  conversation. 
For  instance,  in  the  German  adaptation  of  an  Italian  work  entitled 
Pluemen  der  Tugend,  and  composed  in  1411  by  Hans  Vintler,  we  read 

(1.  8554  f.) : 

und  mit  frauen  minnigleich 
soil  man  reden  von  claiden  reich 
und  von  pluemen  vergissmeinnitt 
und  von  hiibschen  minne  sitt,  etc. 

It  is  noticeable  that  no  mention  is  made  of  the  flower  in  the  Italian 
original  of  this  poem1,  and  here  let  it  be  remarked  that  the  forget-me- 
not  plays  but  a  slight  rdle  in  the  popular  poetry  of  either  France  or 
England  compared  with  that  of  Germany,  where  it  seems  to  have  laid 
hold  of  the  popular  imagination.  In  France,  for  instance,  there  is  little 
proof  of  its  popularity  beyond  an  occasional  reference2.  The  same  is 
true  of  England  as  may  be  seen  from  the  fact  that  Coleridge,  when 
he  wrote  'the  gentle  gem,  the  sweet  forget-me-not,'  was  obliged  to 
add  an  explanatory  note  in  his  first  edition  as  to  what  flower  he 
referred  to  under  this  name — and  this,  although  as  early  as  1532  the 
name  appears  in .  Palsgrave's  Dictionary,  where  '  une  fleur  de  ne 
m'oubliez-mie '  is  translated  literally  by  '  a  flour  of  forget-me-nat ' 
(cf.  Dewes,  Introduction  to  Palsgrave,  '  Eclaircissement  de  la  langue 
frangaise'  1582). 

1  '  Con  donne  si  dei  contare  di  cose  di  cortesia  e  di  alegrezza  e  d'amore,  e  di  belle  gioje 
e  di  vestimenta,  e  di  cose  di  masserizie.' 

2  Cf.  for  instance  Charles  d'Orleans,  Rondeau -LI: 

Et  a  elle  presenteray 

Des  fleurs  de  ne  nroubliez-mie. 

Cf.  also  Bibl.  de  Vficole  des  Chartes,  6ifeme  Serie,  i,  p.  473  (16th  c.) :  'Ung  autre  dyamant 
taille  en  fleur  de  ne  m'oubliez  mie.'  The  French  name  occurs  also  in  a  poem  formerly 
attributed  to  Chaucer  but  which  is  of  later  date,  viz.  The  Assembly  of  Ladies,  59  f. :  'And 
how  they  were  acompanyed  with  mo  |  Ne  m'oublie-mies  and  sovenez  also '  (cf.  Skeat's 
Ed.  of  Chaucer,  vn,  p.  69).  But  such  examples  are  mere  isolated  ones  and  are  far 
from  being  'popular.' 

M.  L.  R.  IX.  24 


362  '  Von  dem  blumlin   Vergissmeinnit ' 

In  Germany,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  hardly  a  collection  of 
popular  songs  but  contains  some  evidence  of  its  widespread  popularity. 
Here,  as  mentioned  above,  it  seems  to  have  been  the  symbolic  inter- 
pretation of  the  colour  blue  which  first  led  to  the  adoption  of  this 
flower  as  a  token  of  constancy.  Instances  abound  of  the  veneration 
in  which  the  colour  blue  was  held1 — so  much  so  that  'blautragen' 
(cf.  Lassberg,  Liedersaal,  II,  p.  178)  became  a  synonym  for  being 
constant  in  love2.  Hence  the  importance  of  the  '  blue  flower/  so  well 
suited  for  wreaths  and  garlands  and  much  beloved  of  the  poets3. 
Thus  the  way  was  paved  for  the  advent  of  the  '  Vergissmeinnicht,' 
and  we  find  a  mention  of  it  already  in  a  poem  attributed  to  Hermann 
von  Sachsenheim  (cf.  K.  Geuter,  Studien  zum  Liederbuch  der  Klara 
Hditzlerin)  and  entitled  Von  einem  Wurtzgarten  (11.  78f.): 

Ich  fand  auch  da  in  liechtem  schein 
Vergissmennit  das  blumlein 
Des  farb  je  scheint  in  statikait 
Verschwunden  was  all  mein  laid. 

Henceforward  one  has  only  to  study  the  different  collections  of 
German  Volkslieder  to  have  ample  evidence  of  the  popularity  of  this 
flower  in  poem  and  song.  We  find  it  in  a  Lower  Rhenish  MS.  of  the 
fifteenth  century  as  one  of  the  seven  'roeselein'  which  go  to  make 
up  a  symbolic  wreath4,  and  again  in  the  Munchener  Liederbuch5  with 
a  play  on  the  words: 

Ein  plumlein  heist  vergissnichtmein 
das  ist  mir  durre  worden 
min  lip  das  hat  gedencknitmein 
geflanczt  yn  yre  hercze  u.s.w. 

It  figures  considerably  in  the  poems  contained  in  the  Ambraser  Lieder- 

1  Cf .  '  Nun  sag  mir  darnach  was  ist  blaw  |  Ich  sprach  das  ist  stattigkait  |  der  hertzen- 
lieb  gen  lieb  treitt!'  (Liederbuch  der  Klara  Hdtzlerin,  No.  21);   'Plau  bedeutet  stattigkait' 
(Ib.,  No.  19) ;  '  di  ain  trug  bla  in  staetigkait '  (Suchensinn,  Der  Widertail),  also  Ein  Red 
von  der  Minne  by  the  same  author  where  Frau  Minne  complains :  '  das  maniger  plab  durch 
staete  trait  |  da  von  so  went  er  staete  sein,'  and  many  others.   For  the  symbolic  meanings 
of  the  various  colours  cf.  W.  Gloth,  Das  Spiel  von  den  sieben  Farben.    Teuionia,  Heft  i,  1902. 

2  The  idea  of  wearing  colours  probably  originated  in  France.     Cf.  Christine  de  Pisan, 
(Euvres  poetiques,  3,  298,  'bleu  porter.'    Cf.  G.  Paris,  Chansons  du  XVe  siecle,  No.  XLII  :  'Et 
blanche  livr^e  porter  Chascun  un  blanc  chapperon. '  Cf . '  II  te  fauldra  de  vert  vestir  |  C'est 
la  livre"e  aux  amoulreux,'  Ib.  XLIX,  etc.     Cf.  also  Kaynaud,  Rondeaux  et  autres  poesies  du 
xve  siecle,  Paris,  1889,  Nos.  2,  37,  etc. 

3  Cf.,  for  instance,  a  short  poem  of  the  fifteenth  century  preserved  in  a  Karlsruher 
Handschrift  (see  Mones,  Anzeiger,  v,  p.  334): 

und  wend  ir  horen,  was  mir  daz  liebste  si, 

daz  plawe  pliimlin  das  stat  gar  nach  da  bi, 

daz  plawe  tiitet  stat, 

der  kule  wind  hat  mir  den  weg  verwat,  u.s.w. 

Cf.  Liederbuch  der  Klara  Hatzlerin,  n,  pp.  96  f. :    'ain  plawe  plumen  sy  abprach,'  and 
many  others. 

4  Euphorion,  vm  (1901),  p.  52. 

5  Published  in  the  Zeitschriftfttr  deutsche  Phil.,  xv,  p.  113. 


JESSIE    CROSLAND  363 

buck  (1582)1  and  amongst  the  sixteenth  century  poems  contained  in  the 
Deutscher  Liederhort2.  It  finds  a  place  in  the  allegorical  poems  dealing 
with  love3 ;  it  is  reckoned  among  the  '  geistlichen  Blumen '  in  a  poem 
of  the  sixteenth  century4,  and  in  a  Middle  German  paraphrase  of  the 
book  of  Job5  where,  although  the  name  is  not  mentioned,  yet  it  is 
obvious  that  a  reference  is  made  to  this  flower. 

But  it  is  unnecessary  to  multiply  examples6.  Enough  has  been  said 
to  indicate  the  place  which  the  '  Vergissmeinnicht'  occupied  in  German 
lyric  poetry  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries,  and  we  now  proceed 
to  examine  more  in  detail  the  poem  of  which  the  text  is  published  below. 

The  metre  of  the  poem  is  that  of  the  majority  of  Spruchgedichte 
in  the  fifteenth  century,  viz.  rhyme-pairs  with  regular  alternation  of 
dip  and  lift.  The  majority  of  lines  present  the  customary  four  feet 
and,  in  the  effort  to  obtain  these,  the  natural  accent  has  sometimes 
been  violated ;  cf.  lieblich,  1.  18,  billich,  1.  100,  cf.  also  11s.  21,  30,  72,  88, 
120,  155.  Several  lines  which  appear  at  first  sight  to  contain  only 
three  lifts  in  spite  of  their  masculine  ending  can  be  brought  into 
conformity  with  the  rest  by  means  of  a  very  slight  alteration  in 
the  text  (cf.  rhyme-pairs  41-42,  73-74,  133-134). 

The  question  of  the  extent  to  which  '  mehrsilbige  Senkung '  is 
allowed,  is  rendered  difficult  by  the  unreliability  of  the  only  text  we 
possess  of  the  poem.  In  many  cases  it  can  be  avoided  by  the  syncope 
of  an  e,  more  often  than  not  in  the  prefix  ge-. 

44.     Ich  gdacht  in  meinem  mut  :    nu  schweig. 
75.     Gotwilkum  gsell  was  schafstu  hie  ?  etc. 

Infinitives  such  as  singn,  wanckn,  etc.,  are  treated  as  monosyllabic,  as 
is  proved  by  the  rhyme  paum  :  anschawn,  71-72. 

On  the  other  hand  omission  of  the  dip  between  two  lifts  is  not 
uncommon  and  may  be  due  to  a  predilection  of  the  poet  for  '  beschwerte 
Betommg,' 

cf.  32.     Mft  der  hannd  wds  ich  snell. 
35.     Niemand  mich  des  erwe*nt. 
77.     Und  zuckt  meinen  hiit  ab. 

cf.  alsoil44  (or  read  ferte  ?)  and  145  (hinefur  ?). 

1  Ed.  J.  Bergman,  cc,  2;  ccvin,  4;  ccxxvn,  18. 

2  Eck  und  Bohme,  Deutscher  Liederhort,  pp.  38,  381,  397,  etc. 

3  Cf.  Mittelhochdeutsche  Minnereden,  i,  herausg.  von  K.  Matthaei  (Deutsche  Texte  des 
Mittelalters,  xxiv),  12,  9  and  13,  317. 

4  Cf.  Wackernagel,  Kirchenlieder,  in,  p.  288. 

5  Die  mitteldeutsche  poetische  Paraphrase  des  Buches  Hiob.   T.  E.Karsten  (same  series, 
xxi),  p.  27,  11.  1693-7. 

6  Further  reference  might  be  made  to  Ditfurth,  Yolks-  und  Gesellschaftslieder  aus  dem 
16.  und  17.  Jahrh.,  e.g.,  No.  39,  Ade;  Uhland's  Volkslieder,  54,  55,  57,  58;  Des  Knaben 
Wunderhorn,  i,  239,  etc. 

24—2 


364  '  Von  dem  blumlin   Vergissmeinnit ' 

Another  tendency  of  the  poet  may  be  noticed,  viz.  the  frequency 
with  which  he  accentuates  the  personal  pronoun  immediately  preceding 
the  verb,  especially  at  the  beginning  of  a  line. 

1.     I6h  kam  in  des  mayenzeit 
11.     I6h  mocht[es]  nit  lennger  Ian 

I6h  muest  in  den  anger  gan 
131.     Ich  stuend  aiif  mid  wollt  von  dann,  etc. 

On  the  other  hand  in  many  lines  we  find  an  'Auftakt'  of  two 
syllables;  cf.  11s.  30,  46,  68,  94,  154;  157. 

The  rhymes  are  in  general  pure,  and  those  which  do  not  appear  so 
can  be  accounted  for  by  the  dialect  in  which  the  poem  is  written,  viz. 
that  of  Bavarian  Austria.  Characteristic  also  of  this  dialect  is  the 
strong  tendency  to  apocope  and  syncope  which  marks  many  of  the 
rhymes.  Cf.  erblickt  (pret.)  :  geschickt  (p.p.) ;  trawret  :  mawret  (63— 
64);  pawm  (dat.)  :  anschawn  (71-72) ;  ticht  :  nicht  (123-4);  erwent 
(=erwendet) :  end  (35-36),  etc. 

To  the  same  dialect  we  may  ascribe  the  following  peculiarities 
in  the  rhymes : 

(1)  Vowels  a  :  a,  cf.  dann  :  han  131-2 ;  gach  :  sach  13-14 ;  statt  : 

gat  157-81. 

e  :  e  (before  r),  cf.  her  :  mehr  79-80;  er  :  her  135-62. 
ei  (>i)  :  ei  (>ei),  cf.  schein  :  rein  9-10;  rubein  :  rein 

29-303. 
ai  (  >ei)  :  ai  (  >age),  cf.  lait  :  gesait  125-64. 

(2)  Consonants  m  :  n,  cf.  pawm  :  schawn  71-2. 

z  :  s,  cf.  baz  :  gras  43-4. 

w  :  b,  cf.  tau  :  laub  57-85. 

Difference  of  final  t,  cf.  tall  :  manigfalt  3-4. 

Other  characteristic  forms  are :  '  west,'  1.  84 6 ;  in  the  inner  part  of 
the  line,  the  preterite  '  hiet '  (from  han),  1.  29,  and  the  construction  of 
'vor'  with  the  genitive,  11.  66,  100  and  1457.  These  forms,  together 
with  those  noticed  under  the  vowels  and  consonants,  are  sufficient  to 
indicate  the  home  of  the  original. 

It  only  remains  to  say  that  a  complete  reconstruction  of  the  text 
is  impossible  as  the  '  Uberlieferung '  of  the  poem  is  far  from  perfect. 

1  Cf.  Weinhold,  Bairische  Grammatik,  §  36.  2  16.  §  48. 

3  Cf.  Zwierzina,  Z.  f.  d.  A.,  XLIV,  p.  393.  4  Ib.  p.  363. 

5  For  m  :  n  and  w :  b,  cf.  Weinhold,  loc,  cit.,  §§  125  and  169. 
«  Weinhold,  Mhd.  Grammatik,  §  419. 
7  Cf.  Zwierzina,  loc.  cit.,  p.  27. 


JESSIE    CROSLAND  365 

Several  of  the  lines  appear  to  me  to  be  clearly  interpolations  and  they 
have  therefore  been  relegated  to  the  notes.  Smaller  interpolations 
consisting  of  a  word  or  syllable  have  been  enclosed  in  round  brackets. 
Additions  made  to  the  text  are  denoted  throughout  by  square 
brackets. 

VON   DEM   BLUMLEIN   VERGISSMEINNICHT. 

Ich  kam  in  des  mayenzeit 

auf  ainen  gruenen  anger  weit, 

der  stund  in  ainem  tiefen  tall : 

da  sach  ich  pluemen  manigfalt 

gegen  der  liechten  sunnefn]  prehen.  5 

Ich  gedacht :    '  ich  mu.es  (die)  ansehen, 

wie  der  may  sey  getziert 

und  jeglichs  bluem[e]lein  formiert.' 

gegen  des  liechten  mayen  schein 

die  blumlein  waren  liecht  und  rein.  10 

Ich  mocht[es]  nit  lennger  Ian, 

ich  muest  in  den  anger  gan: 

(und)  zu  den  plumen  was  mir  gach ; 

manigs  hubsch  plumlem  ich  da  sach 

sich  auftun  gen  der  sunnen  15 

in  frewden  und  in  wunnen. 

Doch  sunderlich  ich  ains  erblickt, 

das  was  gar  lieblich  geschickt; 

darauf  lag  ain  trop[e]flein 

von  tau  als  war  es  rein  perlein1,  20 

es2  het  sich  lieblich  geschmuckt3 

und  zartlich  auf  seiri  kraut  getruckt 

und  pflag  da  senfter  morgenrue, 

ich  trat  ain  wenig  bas  hintzue. 

Da  ich  das  [bluemlein]  ansach  25 

gruenes  gras  was  sein  ob(e)dach, 

es4  was  plab  als  der  safier  rein, 

1  The  MS.  has  not  been  strictly  adhered  to  in  this  passage,  as  the  sense  rendered  a 
transposition  of  the  lines  necessary.     Lines  21  and  22  in  the  MS.  have  become  11.  25  and 
26  in  the  printed  text.     The  two  following  lines  which  follow  1.  26  in  the  MS.  seem  to  me 
to  be  an  interpolation  : 

Da  sach  ich  pluemen  manigfalt 

Sunder  merkt  ich  aines  bluemlein  gestalt. 

2  MS.  das  bluemlein.  3  MS.  gesclmuckt.  4  MS.  das. 


366  '  Von  dem  blumlin   Veryissmeinnit ' 

teuf  darin  stuend  ain  rubein1, 

den  man  lieblich  hiet  paliert: 

also  was  das  bluemlein  geformiert.  30 

Mitten  ain  das  was  rein  gell. 

Mit  der  hannd  was  ich  snell, 

ich  naigt  mich  dar  und  prach  es  ab; 

ich  gedacht:    'seit  ich[s]  nun  hab, 

niemand  mich  des  erwent,  35 

Ich  will  sein  komen  an  ain  end, 

ob  mir  jemand  [kumt]  entgagen, 

der  mir  kund[e]...sagen, 

wie  das  pluemlein  sey  genant, 

das  ich  da  hab  in  meiner  hand.'  40 

Ich  ging  [ain  wenig]2  fur  mich  bas 

durch  feyel  und[e]  gruenes  gras, 

und  kam  auf  ainen  smalen  steig. 

Ich  gedacht  in  meinem  mut :    '  nu  schweig ! 

Nu  will  ich  gen  als  lanng  und  vil,  45 

ob  ich  kom  des  angers  an  ain  ziel, 

ob  mir  jemand  tat  bekant, 

wie  das  bluemlein  war  genant. 

Der  steig  mich  trug  durch  ain  wild(es)  hag, 

vor  dem  ain  schoner  gart[e]  lag,  50 

da  sach  ich  erst  den  mayenglantz3. 

Die  pawme4  waren  voll5  blued[e]  gantz, 

die  fogel  sungen  in  den  (gruenen)  esten 

gen  der  liechten  su[n]nen  glesten; 

keines  ward  nie  nas  von  tau,  55 

si  sassen  in  dem  gruenen  laub 

und  wurden  also  lustlich  singn 

und  mit  suessem  sang[e]  klingen, 

das  ich  es  nit  verloben  kan. 

Jeglicher  vogel  der  hueb  an  60 

mit  seinem  besundern  gesanck, 

das  es  under  ainander  klanck. 

Ich  horte  niemand,  der  da  trawret. 

Der  gart[e]  was  schon  umb[e]mawret ; 

1  MS.  das  stuend  tief  in  ainem  rubein 

das  was  plab  als  der  saner  rein. 

2  Of.  1.  65.  3  mayengantz. 
4  pawn.                                                               5  von. 


JESSIE    CROSLAND 


367 


ich  ging  ein  wenig  bas  hinfur  65 

da  sach  ich  vor  mein  aine  thur1 ; 

die  was  offen,  ich  gie  hinein, 

da  ersach  ich  aine  frawen  rein  : 

da  ich  sie  erst  anblickt[e] 

von  herzen  ich  erschrickt[e]  70 

und  naigt  mich  hinder  ainem  pawm, 

ich  wollt  ihr  schon  haimlich  anschavvn. 

Da  sie  mich  [erst]  ersach, 

sie  ging  zu  mir  und[e]  sprach  : 

'  Gotwilkum  gesell  was  schafstu  hie  ? '  75 

Ich  naigt  mich  nider  auf  ain  knie 

und  zuckt  meinen  hiit  ab. 

Sie  sprach :    '  setz  auf,  lieber  knab, 

was  schafst  hie  oder  wannen  kumst  her, 

warm  ich  in  manig  zeit  nie  mehr  80 

kainen  alls  gern  hab  gesehen, 

das  muess  ich  in  warheit  jehn.' 

Ich  sprach :]   '  frau,  ich  gen  irr  und  han  geprest, 

genad,  frau,  wann  ich  gern[e]  west, 

wie  das  bluemlein  war  genant,  85 

das  ich  hie  hab  in  meiner  hant; 

wist  ir  nit  des  bluemleins  kraft  ? 

durch2  aller  frauen  gesellschaft 

und  durch  ewr  er  und  tugend 

erfreu[e]t  mir  mein  herz  und  jugend,  90 

und  tttet  mir  das  bluemlein  nennen 

oder  was  ich  dabey  sull  erkennen.' 

Sy  sprach  gar  tugendlich :   '  das  soil  sein3. 

setz  dich  nyder,  auf  die  trewe  mein 

so  will  ich  dir  es  thun  bekantt.'  95 

Sy  graif  mir  her  nach  mein[er]  hant 

und  zoch  mich  zu  ir  sitzen  nider; 

ich  wischt  balld  auf  von  ir  wider: 

'Nam  frau,  ich  will  tugendlich4 

sten  vor  ewr  als  ist  billich.'  100 

Sy  sprach :    '  du  sollt  sitzen  zu  mir, 

1  ain  thor.  2  tuet  es  durch.  3  gesell  das  soil  sein. 

4  MS.  -  Nain  frau  tugendlich. 

Ich  will  sten  vor  ewr  als  billich  ist. 


368  *  Von  dem  blumlin   Vergissmeinnit ' 

so  will  ich  das  beschaiden  dir, 

des  du  hast  gefrag[e]t  mich; 

nu  wol  her  und  setz[e]  dich.' 

Also  setz[t]  ich  mich  zu  derselben  stund,  105 

da  sprach  sy  aus  irem  rotten  mund : 

'  Vergissmeinnit  ist  es  genant 

und  ist  frawen  (und  mannen)  wol  erkannt, 

die  da  tragen  statikait. 

Vergissmeinnit  bringt  '(oft)  lieb  und  laid.  110 

Wann  lebt  yender  ain  fraw  so  gut, 

die  da  tregt  vessten  statten  mutt, 

hallt  sy  das  bluemlein  in  ir(e)m  hertzn, 

Ir  tut  senen  haimlich(en)  schmertzn, 

und  pfligt  sy  das  bluemlein  eben  und  schon  115 

so  hat  sy  (oft)  frewd  widerumb  zu  Ion, 

und  gutten  niut  in  haimlichait; 

Vergissmeinnit  bringt  (oft)  lieb  und  laid, 

Vergissmeinnit  die  edel(e)1  frucht, 

wer  ir  newst,  der  hat  (die)  sehnsucht  120 

und  hat  haimlich  wol  und  ach 

und  gramlichen2  ungemach. 

Was  man  auch  syngt  oder  ticht, 

dabei  mues  sein  vergissmeinnicht  : 

also  bringt  es  lieb  und  laid.  125 

Von  dem  bluemlein  hab  ich  dir  nu  gesait.' 

Ich  sprach :    '  gnad,  frau,  ich  hab  zu  danck(e)n 

mit  gantzen  trewen  on  alles  wanckn, 

das  ir  mir  trewlich  habt  gesagt 

was  ich  ew. ..hab  gefragt.'  130 

Ich  stuend  auf  und  wollt  von  dann  : 

'Genad,  fraw,  lat  mich  urlaub  han.' 

Sy  sprach :   '  gesell  nu  beit, 

du  kumst  noch  [zue]  gutter  zeit.' 

Ich  sprach  :    '  nein  [frau],  zeit  hat  er.'  135 

Sy  graif  mich  nach  dem  arm[e]  her. 

'Gesell3,  merck,  was  ich  dir  ratn  will: 

gib  alien  frewden  ein  schnelles  ziel, 

gedenck,  ein  widerkern  tut  gar  woll. 

1  ist  ain  edele.  2  gamlichen. 

3  und  sprach  :  gesell,  etc. 


JESSIE    CROSLAND 


369 


140 


Bis  fest,  stat  und  sprich  frawen  wol, 

bis  verschwigen  trau  niemand  zu  vil.' 

'Genad  frau,  gern  ich  es  tun  will.' 

'Nun  will  ich  dich  nit  lennger  halten1, 

Gott  mues  deiner  fart  walltn.' 

Sy  gie  vor  mein  hinfur  145 

und  wartet  meiner  bei  der  thur2. 

Also  schied  ich  von  der  zarten, 

sy  tett  mir  selbst  auf  den  garten 

und  gab  mir  lieblich  disen  segen  : 

'Gott  mues  dein[er]  ymer  pflegen  150 

und[e]  haben  in  seiner  pflicht. 

Mein  hort,  halt  dich  des  (bluemlein)  vergissmeinnicht.' 

Ich  sprach  :    '  furwar,  fraw,  das  soil  sein 

unvergessen  (ewicklich)  in  dem  herzen  mein.' 

Sy  sprach :]    *  Vergissmeinnit,  das  edel  pluemlein,     155 

pflanz  (mir)  in  den  garten  des  hertzen  dein, 

und  der  zawn,  der  umb  den  garten  gatt, 

soil  sein  3nitliebers  an  aller  statt.' 

JESSIE  CROSLAND. 


LONDON. 


1  aufhalten. 

2  After  1.  146  in  the  MS.  stand  the  following  lines  which  seem  to  me  to  be  an  inter- 
polation : 

Ich  gund  hinder  der  thur  still  stan 

Sy  sprach  willtu  nit  furbas  gan 

Nain  fraw  ir  muest  belieben  hie 

Sy  sprach  sag  mir  allswie 

Gee  fur  dich  es  ist  dir  umsunst 

Ich  tue  in  meinem  gartn  wes  mich  verlust. 

3  nitliebers  und  vergissmeinnit. 


MISCELLANEOUS   NOTES. 


A  NOTE  ON  THE  TEXT  OF  'As  You  LIKE  IT/  II,  i,  5. 

Some  of  the  earlier  critics'  emendations  of  the  text  of  Shakespeare 
have  been  accepted  with  such  unanimity  that  many  editions  print  them 
without  comment,  and  it  is  with  a  feeling  of  surprise  that  one  realises 
sometimes  how  much  there  is  to  say  for  the  displaced  text  of  the  Folio. 
Such  an  instance  occurs  in  the  well-known  speech  of  the  Duke  in  As 
You  Like  It,  n,  i,  of  which  the  following  are  the  opening  lines : 

Now  my  Coe-mates,  and  brothers  in  exile  : 
Hath  not  old  custome  made  this  life  more  sweete 
Then  that  of  painted  pompe  ?     Are  not  these  woods 
More  free  from  perill  then  the  enuious  Court  ? 
Heere  feele  we  not  the  penal  tie  of  Adam, 
The  seasons  difference,  as  the  Icie  phange 
And  churlish  chiding  of  the  winters  winde, 
Which  when  it  bites  and  blowes  vpon  my  body 
Euen  till  I  shrinke  with  cold,  I  smile,  and  say 
This  is  no  flattery:  these  are  counsellors 
That  feelingly  perswade  me  what  I  am : 
Sweet  are  the  vses  of  aduersitie,  etc. 

In  the  fifth  of  these  lines  Theobald's  correction  of  '  but '  for  '  not ' 
has  been  universally  accepted,  so  much  so  that  Professor  Herford  and  the 
editor  of  the  play  in  the  '  Caxton  Shakespeare '  print  '  but '  without  a 
word  of  comment.  Yet  '  but '  is  quite  certainly  wrong,  and  the  text  of 
the  Folio  right.  The  long  discussion  of  the  passage  which  the  Variorum 
Edition  reproduces  from  the  different  editors  is  vitiated  throughout  by 
the  assumption  that  '  Here  feel  we  not '  is  an  assertion.  For  the  printer 
of  the  Folio  has  made  one  mistake :  he  has  omitted  the  mark  of 
interrogation.  Anyone  acquainted  with  older  punctuation  will  recognise 
how  this  has  happened.  To-day  a  printer  would  place  the  mark  of 
interrogation  at  the  end  of  1.  11  of  the  above  extract.  But  the  older 
printers  quite  naturally  disliked  reserving  the  indication  of  a  question 
to  the  end  of  a  sentence,  when  the  interrogative  aspect  of  the  sentence 
had  become  overshadowed  by  a  statement.  They  often  inserted  it  once 
or  twice  in  the  course  of  the  same  sentence.  The  natural  place  for  the 


Miscellaneous  Notes  371 

interrogative  in  the  case  in  question  would  be  after  the  seventh  line, 
or  perhaps  after  both  the  fifth  and  the  seventh.  This  tended,  on  the 
other  hand,  to  obscure  the  continuous  flow  of  the  sentence.  In  the 
present  case,  what  began  as  a  question  passed  into  a  statement  and 
the  question  mark  was  lost. 

That  the  Duke  is  asking  a  question,  and  that  '  not '  is  the  correct 
reading,  is  clear  at  once  from  the  rhetorical  parallelism  and  from  the 
sense.  Note  the  parallelism  '  Hath  not  old  custome... ' ;  '  Are  not  these 
woods...';  '  Heere  feele  we  not '  But  the  sense  is  still  more  con- 
vincing evidence.  The  point  of  the  Duke's  argument,  the  text  on 
which  he  bases  his  discourse 

Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adversity, 

is  obscured  by  changing  'not'  to  'but.'  He  asks  three  questions 
regarding  their  life  in  the  forest  compared  with  their  former  life  at 
Court :  (1)  Has  custom  not  made  it  sweeter  (because  it  is  more  simple) 
than  the  pomp  of  Court  ?  (2)  Is  it  not  a  safer  life  than  that  of  the 
Court,  where  everyone  who  prospers  is  the  object  of  others'  envy? 
(3)  Is  it  not  a  sincerer  life,  teaching  us  what  we  really  are,  than  the 
Jife  of  the  Court  where  we  were  surrounded  by  flatterers  ? 

Instead  of  complaining  that  he  has  to  bear  the  penalty  of  Adam 
(though  'but  the  penalty'  and  nothing  more)  he  reckons  the  fact  that 
we  do  feel  this  penalty  as  the  greatest  of  the  boons  which  their  sylvan 
life  has  conferred  upon  them.  It  is  because  we  have  learned  to  smile 
and  say : 

This  is  no  flattery:  these  are  counsellors 
That  feelingly  persuade  me  what  I  am, 

it  is  because  of  this  that  we  are  able  to  say  from  the  heart : 
Sweet. are  the  uses  of  adversitie... 

One  might  press  the  argument  farther  and  ask  what  '  but '  really 
means.  The  '  seasons  difference '  is  (according  to  tradition)  one  of  the 
penalties  of  Adam's  sin,  but  so  are  the  other  evils  the  Duke  has  men- 
tioned, with  every  other  consequence  of  sin.  He  is  not  contrasting  the 
'  seasons  difference '  with  the  '  pomp '  and  '  envy '  of  the  life  at  Court. 
He  is  contrasting  the  sincerity  of  the  icy  wind,  which  knows  no  diffe- 
rences of  rank,  with  the  flattery  of  courtiers  and  counsellors.  The 
thought  is  akin  to  Lear's 

Take  physic,  pomp ; 
Expose  thyself  to  feel  what  wretches  feel... 

and  the  boatswain's  '  Hence  !  What  care  these  roarers  for  the  name  of 
king  ? '  and  Canute's  lesson  to  his  flatterers. 


372  Miscellaneous  Notes 

I  have  noticed  since  this  obvious  error  struck  me,  that  an 
anonymous  correspondent  of  the  Gentleman  s.  Magazine  in  1784  made 
this  emendation,  inserting  a  mark  of  interrogation  after  '  winde.' 
No  editor  discussed  it,  and  though  the  Cambridge  editors  record  the 
fact,  it  is  not  referred  to  in  Aldis  Wright's  Clarendon  Press  edition. 

H.  J.  C.  GRIEKSON. 
ABERDEEN. 


SHAKESPEARE,  '  SONNETS  '  LI,  11.  10  f. 

Therefore  desire,  of  perfect'st  love  being  made, 
Shall  neigh — no  dull  flesh — in  his  fiery  race. 

It  is  a  risky  thing  to  propose  an  emendation  of  the  text  of  Shake- 
speare. One  feels  that  there  if  there  is  anything  in  it,  others  would 
have  proposed  it  before— or,  in  fact,  have  done  so. 

I  cannot  think  however  that  the  above  lines  as  given  by  the  Cam- 
bridge editors  are  Shakespeare's.  Nor  am  I  satisfied  with  the  emenda- 
tions mentioned  in  the  editors'  note. 

The  original  text  has  '  naigh  noe  dull  flesh/  Malone  reads  '  neigh 
(no  dull  flesh)'  and  conjectured  'neigh  to  dull  flesh.'  '  Staunton  con- 
jectures that  neigh  is  corrupt,  wait  no  dull  flesh,  Bulloch  conj.  neigh, 
no  dull  flesh,  Dowden.  need  no  dull  flesh,  Kinnear  conj.'  (Cambridge 
Editors.) 

I  suggest  '  weigh  no  dull  flesh.' 

In  the  preceding  sonnet  the  poet  tells  us  that  when  he  is  riding 
away  from  his  friend, 

The  beast  that  bears  me,  tired  with  my  woe, 
Plods  dully  on,  to  bear  that  weight  in  me, 
As  if  by  some  instinct  the  wretch  did  know 
His  rider  loved  not  speed,  being  made  from  thee. 

In  the  present  sonnet  the  situation  is  reversed.  The  poet  imagines 
that  he  is  returning  to  his  friend : 

Then  can  no  horse  with  rny  desire  keep  pace  ; 

Therefore  desire,  of  perfect'st  love  being  made, 

Shall  weigh  no  dull  flesh  in  his  fiery  race ; 

But  love,  for  love,  thus  shall  excuse  my  jade  ; 
Since  from  thee  going  he  went  wilful-slow, 
Towards  thee  I'll  run  and  give  him  leave  to  go. 

Desire,  which  is  identified  with  love,  refuses  to  keep  the  slow  pace 
of  the  horse.     It  will  be  no  burden  to   his  back.     But  as  the  horse, 


Miscellaneous  Notes 


373 


seemingly  out  of  sympathy  with  the  poet,  wilfully  went  slow  on  the 
outward  journey,  he  shall  not  now  be  spurred  to  a  speed  beyond  his 
powers.  Love  or  desire  will  fly  ahead,  and  leave  the  beast  to  walk. 


G.  C.  MOORE  SMITH. 


SHEFFIELD. 


HERRICK'S  '  HESPERIDES.' 

What  is  the  meaning  of  this  title  ? 

We  know  that  Herrick  published  his  poems  in  1648  when  he  came 
up  to  London  at  the  age  of  fifty-seven,  after  being  ejected  -from  his 
Devonshire  living.  Professor  Moorman  in  his  admirable  book  on 
Herrick  would  therefore  understand  '  Hesperides '  to  mean  '  Children 
of  the  West  Country,'  and  we  cannot  deny  that  this  explanation  is 
both  possible  and  attractive. 

Another  explanation  is  however  suggested  by  Herrick's  dedicatory 
lines  to  Charles,  Prince  of  Wales,  which  it  is  worth  while  to  quote  in 
full: 

Well  may  my  Book  come  forth  like  Publique  Day, 

When  such  a. Light  as  You  are  leads  the  way: 

Who  are  my  Works  Creator,  and  alone 

The  Flame  of  it,  and  the  Expansion. 

And  look  how  all  those  heavenly  Lamps  acquire 

Light  from  the  Sun,  that  inexhausted  Fire : 

So  all  my  Morne,  and  Evening  Stars  from  You 

Have  their  Existence,  and  their  -Influence  too. 

Full  is  my  Book  of  Glories;  but  all  These 

By  You  become  Immortall  Substances. 

Herrick  calls  his  poems  '  my  Morne,  and  Evening  Stars.'  This 
suggests  that  he  meant  by  '  Hesperides ' — '  Daughters  of  the  Evening 
Star,'  i.e. '  Poems  of  Later  Life,'  or,  if  he  remembered  that  Hesperus  was 
also  Phosphorus,  the  Morning  Star  (cp.  In  Memoriam,  cxxi),  '  Poems  of 
youth  and  of  old  age.' 

So  much  of  this  note  was  written  when  Mr  Macaulay  suggested  to 
me  a  third  explanation  of  '  Hesperides.'  He  points  out  that  the  word 
was  often  used  by  our  poets  to  mean  not  the  nymphs,  but  the  gardens 
in  which  they  dwelt  (see  N.E.D.  where,  however,  the  examples  are 
badly  classified).  Thus  Greene  writes:  'The  fearful  dragon....  That 
watched  the  garden  called  Hesperides '  (Friar  Bacon,  IX  82)  ;  Shake- 
speare, '  a  Hercules,  Still  climbing  trees  in  the  Hesperides '  (Loves 
Labours  Lost,  IV,  3.  341)  ;  '  Before  thee  stands  this  fair  Hesperides  With 


374  Miscellaneous  Notes 

golden  fruit '  (Pericles,  i  .  1.  27) ;  Milton,  '  ladies  of  the  Hesperides ' 
(Par.  Regained,  II  357). 

Mr  Macaulay  would  even  see  this  meaning  in  Herrick's  poem  '  To 
Virgins '  (ed.  Grosart  II  27) : 

Rosamond  was  in  a  Bower 
Kept,  as  Danae  in  a  Tower:... 
Be  ye  lockt  up  like  to  these, 
Or  the  rich  Hesperides  : . . . 
Notwithstanding  Love  will  win,    . 
Or  else  force  a  passage  in. 

Here  however  the  Virgins  are  compared  first  to  Rosamond  and 
Danae,  and  then  to  the  Hesperides,  and  it  seems  more  natural  to 
consider  that  the  Hesperides  are  here  the  nymphs. 

However,  even  putting  this  passage  aside,  we  have  abundant 
evidence  of  the  use  of  '  Hesperides '  to  mean  '  the  islands  or  gardens 
of  the  west/  and  so  we  get  a  third  possible  explanation  of  Herrick's 
title. 

G.  C.  MOORE  SMITH. 

SHEFFIELD. 


'  EPITHALAMIUM  UPON  LADY  MARY  CROMWELL'S  MARRIAGE.' 

Relative  to  Miss  Edith  S.  Hooper's  important  contribution  in  Modern 
Language  Review,  VIII,  540,  perhaps  I  may  draw  attention  to  the  pro- 
bability that  the  '  Epithalamium  upon  the  Marriage  of  the  Lady  Mary, 
Daughter  to  his  Highness,  with  the  Lord  Viscount  ffalconbridge,  to  bee 
sung  in  Recitative  Musick,'  entered  at  Stationers'  Hall  by  Henry 
Herringman,  in  association  with  D'Avenant's  'Poems  on  Several 
Occasions,'  on  December  7,  1657,  was  the  work  of  Andrew  Marvell. 
In  Marvell's  Works,  ed.  Grosart,  1873,  I,  139  if.,  are  to  be  found  two 
lyrical  dialogues  entitled  '  Two  Songs  at  the  Marriage  of  the  Lord 
Fauconberg  and  the  Lady  Mary  Cromwell,'  the  first  between  Endymion 
and  Cynthia,  with  a  chorus,  and  the  second  sung  by  Hobbinal,  Phillis 
and  Tomalin.  I  think  it  is  to  these,  and  not  to  any  second  Epithala- 
mium, that  Sir  Henry  Herbert  mistakenly  refers.  His  blunder  was 
probably  due  to  the  circumstance  that  D'Avenant  had  Marvell's  two 
songs  suitably  rendered  at  his  '  New  Theatre/  otherwise  the  small  and 
inconvenient  room  in  Rutland  House,  Charterhouse  Yard,  turned  by 
him  into  a  temporary  playhouse  in  1656.  The  new  theatre  (opera- 
house  would  have  been  the  better  term)  was  opened  in  May  with  '  The 


Miscellaneous  Notes  375 

First  Dayes  Entertainment  by  Declamation  and  Musick  after  the 
Manner  of  .the  Ancients,'  an  oratorical-cum-lyrical  performance  which 
was  published  in  the  same  year.  A  contemporary  account  says  '  the 
music  was  in  a  covered  place  and  concerted,  ending  with  new  songs 
relating  to  the  victor,  etc.'  (State  Papers,  Dom.  Ser.,  Interregnum 
1656,  Vol.  cxxvin,  No.  108).  Since  the  scene  of  the  entertainment 
was  Athens,  and  the  songs  to  the  victor,  otherwise  Cromwell,  were  not 
included  in  the  book,  I  am  inclined  to  identify  them  with  the  '  Essay 
for  the  New  Theatre  representing  the  Preparacon  of  the  Athenians  for 
the  Reception  of  Phocion  after  hee  had  gained  a  victory.'  But  in  the 
absence  of  the  poems  the  point  is  difficult  to  settle. 

Miss  Hooper's  discovery  is  valuable  in  two  respects.  It  shows  that 
Rutland  House  was  still  being  used  for  entertainments  in  1657 ;  and  it 
also  shows  the  methods  whereby  D'Avenant  succeeded  in  obtaining  per- 
mission to  give  musical  representations  in  spite  of  puritanical  opposition. 
There  was  a  potent  reason  for  this  lavish  adulation  of  Cromwell  and 
his  family.  By  throwing  repeated  sops  to  Cerberus  D'Avenant  was 
enabled  in  1658  to  open  the  old  Cockpit  Theatre  in  Drury  Lane  with 
his  operas. 

W.  J.  LAWRENCE. 

DUBLIN. 


SOMAIZE   AND   SOREL. 

In  three  ingenious  articles1  Mr  Warshaw  endeavours  (1)  to  establish 
the  '  non-entity  of  Somaize  as  an  actual  person,'  and  (2)  to  identify  him 
with  Charles  Sorel.  the  author  of  Francion  and  the  Berger  extravagant. 
As  Mr  Warshaw  expresses  his  '  desire  to  open  that  subject  for  discussion/ 
I  proceed  to  examine  his  more  important  evidence. 

I.  With  Larroumet,  Mr  Warshaw  places  Somaize's  literary  activity 
in  the  years  1657 — 1661 2.  M.  E.  Roy,  in  an  article  on  Les  premiers 
cercles  du  XVIIe  siecle*,  quotes  several  other  works  which  Somaize  is 
supposed  to  have  written  after  1661 : 

1663  :  He  contributes  to  Les  Delices  de  la  Poesie  Galante  de  plusieurs 
celebres  auteurs  de  ce  temps,  Paris,  Jean  Ribou ; 

1666  :  Le  Secret  d'etre  toujours  belle,  Paris,  Billaine4 : 

1  Of.  The  case  of  Somaize,  The  Identity  of  Somaize  I  and  II,  in  Modern  Language  Notes, 
Feb.  1913,  Feb.  and  March  1914. 

2  Larroumet,  Etudes  de  Litterature,  p.  4,  and  Case  of  Somaize,  p.  33. 

3  In  Revue  d'Hist.  litt.  de  la  France,  vol.  iv,  1897,  p.  13  ff. 

4  Also  quoted  by  Mr  Warshaw,  without  date ;  see  Case  of  Somaize,  p.  36. 


376  Miscellaneous  Notes 

1667 :  La  PTiilis  de  Scire,  Pastorale  du  comte  Bonarelli,  traduite  en 
vers  libres,  Paris,  Ribou1. 

II.  The  Songe  du  Resveur  (1663),  a  reply  to  Somaize's  Pompe 
funebre  de  Scarron,  Mr  Warshaw  considers  to  be  an  attack  by  Somaize 
on  himself — an  attack  written  for  the  sake  of  notoriety2.    But  the  whole 
tone   of  this  work,  despite    its  wretched  verses,  is   one  of   righteous 
indignation;  the  references  to  Somaize  are  couched  in  terms  of  deep 
contempt ;  his  punishment,  after  his  humble  excuses  to  Moliere,  is  most 
humiliating:   stripped  of  his  clothes,  the  author  is  tossed  in  a  horse 
blanket.     Throughout  he  appears  as  a  poor  wretch,  who  sells  Moliere's 
Precieuses  Ridicules  to  a  publisher  [Jean  Ribou]  for  a  paltry  hundred 
francs3,  and  obtains  money  enough  to  buy  clothes  by  stealing  the  Cocu 
Imaginaire4.     The  anecdote  which  relates  that  in  a  certain  salon  he 
tried  to  pass  off  Du  Ryer's  Cleomedon  as  his  own  work  (ib.  p.  18)  like- 
wise bears  the  stamp  of  truth.     The  following  is  Apollo's  opinion  of 
this  '  archigredin '  (ib.  p.  20)  : 

Quoi  !   cet  escrivain  du  Pont  Neuf, 
Qui  n'a  pas  pour  avoir  un  oauf, 
Dit  Apollon,  tout  plein  de  rage, 
Est  cause  de  tout  ce  ravage? 
Ce  singe  qui  ne  feroit  rien, 
S'il  ne  pilloit  les  gens  de  bien, 
Ce  fils  aisne  de  1'ignorance, 
Peut  done  avoir  cette  impudence  ? 

These  traits  render  Mr  Warshaw's  hypothesis  improbable,  and  the 
Songe  du  Resveur  may  safely  be  considered  as  the  work  of  a  friend  of 
Moliere's.  Furthermore,  while  in  1660  Somaize  was  thus  both  slandering 
and  plagiarizing  Moliere  to  earn  a  few  pence,  Sorel  was  still  '  premier 
historiographe  de  France/  making  an  honourable  living  by  his  pen5. 
Had  he  wished  to  belittle  Moliere,  Sorel  could  have  struck  effectively  by 
pointing  out  how  Moliere  had  borrowe'd  from  him.  Ignorant  of  the 
facts,  Somaize  contents  himself  with  accusing  Moliere  of  plagiarising 
the  Abbe  de  Pure's  Precieuse,  a  groundless  charge,  as  shown  by  M.  Roy 
(ib.  p.  268). 

III.  Somaize's  boast  that  the  French  Academy  met  two  or  three 
times  on  his  account6  is  satisfactorily  explained  by  the  twenty-third 
prediction  of  the  Grand  Dictionnaire  (ed.  Livet,  p.  190):  The  Pompe 

1  Privilege  granted  to  A.  B.  D.  S.  =  Antoine  Baudeau  de  Somaize. 

2  Case  of  Somaize,  p.  35. 

3  Le  Songe  du  Resveur,  reprinted  by  P.  L.  Jacob,  Geneva,  1867,  p.  17. 

4  Ib.,  p.  16.     The  Cocu  Imaginaire,  however,  is  not  attributed  to  Somaize,  but  to 
another  'sot ... inf ame. ' 

5  E.  Hoy,  La  Vie  et  les  (Euvres  de  Charles  Sorel,  p.  343. 

6  Identity  of  Somaize  I  and  II,  point  14. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  377 

Funebre  de  Scarron  will  cause  the  '  forty  barons '  to  assemble.     This 
explanation  is  also  accepted  by  Larroumet  (op.  cit.,  p.  27). 

IV.  The  three  passages  in  which  Sorel  refers  to  the  Dictionnaire 
des  Precieuses  deserve  special  attention.  The  first  mention  is  made  in 
his  Bibliotheque  Fran^oise,  Paris,  1664,  p.  171  :  '  II  y  a  aussi  le  Diction- 
naire du  Langage  des  Pretieuses  &  leur  Dictionnaire  Historique,  auec 
leur  Comedie  en  Prose.'  Mr  Warshaw1  finds  it  strange  that  Sorel 
should  have  listed  these  works  here,  'when  dealing  with  the  romans 
comiques!  However,  he  is  not  exactly  dealing  with  this  genre,  since  the 
passage  is  taken  from  a  paragraph  in  which,  by  way  of  digression,  he 
considers  'quantite  de  petites  Pieces  particulieres  qui  paraissent  sous 
diuerses  formes '  (ib.  p.  170). 

The  second  passage,  also  quoted  by  Mr  Warshaw  (ib.  p.  81),  is  found 
in  the  same  Bibliotheque  Francoise,  p.  360,  in  Sorel's  own  list  of  works 
attributed  to  himself:  'II  y  a  en  quelques  autres  lieux  plusieurs  Pieces 
faites  a  1'imitation  des  premieres.  On  a  fait  vne  Lotterie  d Amour,  on 
a  fait  vn  Dictionnaire  du  Langage  precieux,  &  I'inueiition  de  cela  est 
dans  vn  certain  Catalogue  de  Liures  plaisans  pour  les  Benefices  de 
la  Lotterie.'  This  passage  may  seem  to  tell  in  favour  of  Mr  Warshaw's 
contention  :  the  Lotterie  d' Amour  is  '  generally  conceded  to  be  Sorel's ' : 
why  should  he  mention  the  Dictionnaire  together  with  this  Lotterie  if 
the  Dictionnaire  were  not  also  his  ?  Another  explanation  is  possible. 
The  content  of  the  entire  paragraph  is  Sorel's  very  broad-minded 
attitude  toward  plagiarism  ;  he  continues  :  c  II  y  a  beaucoup  d'ouurages 
encore,  soit  Romans  ou  Comedies,  qui  ont  tire  quelques  sujets  des 
Liures  precedens.  Mais  les  larcins  qu'on  fait  aux  Autheurs,  ou 
les  honnestes  imitations  leur  sont  a  honneur2.'  Sorel's  Lotterie 
d  Amour  is  therefore  not  the  one  italicized,  but  rather  the  work 
which  contains  the  '  Catalogue  de  Liures  plaisans '  in  question,  and,, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  Dictionnaire,  Sorel  maintains  his  priority. 
Some  such  explanation  is  also  advocated  by  M.  Roy  (Ch.  Sorel,. 
p.  281). 

The  crucial  passage,  however,  is  contained  in  Sorel's  Connoissance 
des  bons  livres,  chapter  IV,  Du  nouveau  langage  franpois3.  He  first 
quotes  extensively  from  his  own  Discours  sur  VAcademie  Francoise 
(1654)  and  his  Loix  de  la  Galanterie  (second  edition,  1658) — carefully 

1  Identity  of  Somaize  II,  p.  81. 

2  This  passage  also  explains  Sorel's  silence  concerning  Moliere's  borrowings  from  his 
works. 

3  Amsterdam,    1672,    pp.   409 — 410,  partially  quoted  by  Mr  Warshaw,    Identity   of 
Somaize  II,  p.  81. 


M.   L.  R.   IX. 


25 


378  Miscellaneous  Notes 

noting  date  and  editions,  but  naturally  omitting  the  name  of  the  author. 
Then  he  continues  : 

Vers  ces  temps-la  on  fit  imprimer  quatre  Volumes  d'un  Livre  intitule,  La 
Precieuse,  ou  le  Mystere  des  Ruelles.  De  certaines  personnes  y  estoient  introduites, 
lesquelles  parloient  &  agissoient  autrement  que  les  autres.  Ce  Livre  donna  sujet 
a  une  Comedie  Italienne  de  ce  nom,  laquelle  fut  imitee  en  Frangois,  sous  le  titre  des 
Fausses  Precieuses1.  Celles-cy  tenoient  quelque  chose  du  nouveau  langage,  ou  d'un 
langage  choisi.  II  y  eut  aussi  le  Dictionnaire  Historique,  Poetique,  &  Geographique 
des  Precieuses,  Livre  d'une  invention  tres-galante,  mais  tres-mal  executee  parce  que 
ceux  qui  ont  compose  cet  Ouvrage,  ayans  travaille'  sur  de  faux  Memoires,  ont  donne 
plus  ou  moins  d'&ge  aux  Dames  qu'elles  n'avoient.  Us  leur  ont  attribue  des  qualitez 
qui  ne  leur  convenoient  pas,  &  ont  racontd  leurs  avantures  au  plus  loin  de  ce  qui 
en  est  arrive".  Outre  cecy,  1'insolence  estoit  horrible,  d'aller  faire  imprimer  des 
Clefs  qui  expliquoient  tous  les  noms  empruntez,  pour  plusieurs  personnes  connues. 
Nous  n'alleguons  ce  Livre  que  parce  qu'il  est  remply  de  plusieurs  fagons  de  parler 
tout  extraordinaires.  On  a  imprime  a  part,  Le  Dictionnaire  du  Langage  des  Pre- 
cieuses^ ou  1'on  trouve  de  semblables  termes,  qui  sont  fort  pleins  d'emphaze  &  de 
periphrazes  qu'on  peut  estimer  ridicules.  Aussi  croit-on  qu'on  a  enchery  sur  la 
verite,  &  que  s'il  y  a  la  quelques  mots  dont  se  servent  de  certaines  personnes,  les 
autres  ont  este  invente  a  leur  imitation. 

Mr  Warshaw  is  probably  right  in  warning  us  not  to  take  Sorel's 
indignation  too  seriously.  On  the  other  hand,  we  believe  that  this 
passage  gives  the  clue  to  the  real  authorship  of  the  Dictionnaire.  It 
was  evidently  compiled  in  collaboration2,  and  Somaize  was  (so  to  say) 
the  editor  in  chief. 

But  since  Sorel  so  persistently  refers  to  the  Dictionnaire,  we  propose 
the  following  hypothesis  as  an  alternative  to  Mr  Warshaw's  thesis  : 
Sorel  had  been  one  of  the  most  zealous  and  scientific  contributors. 
Others,  however,  like  the  uncritical  Somaize,  had  grossly  exaggerated 
things,  and  Sorel  finally  discontinued  his  collaboration.  Nevertheless 
he  considered  the  Dictionnaire  as  a  valuable  contribution  to  the  study 
of  the  precieux  movement.  This  is  especially  shown  by  the  fact  that 
he  quotes  from  it  extensively  in  a  later  passage  of  the  Gonnoissance  des 
bons  livres*.  Out  of  the  twenty-three  precieux  expressions  mentioned, 
twenty-two  are  taken  from  the  Dictionnaire  des  Precieuses4. 

WALTHER  FISCHER. 
PHILADELPHIA,  PENN.  U.S.A. 

1  Sorel  evidently  refers  neither  to  Moliere's  nor  to  Somaize's  Precieuses,  but  to  Gabriel 
Gilbert's  Vraie  et  Fausse^Precieuse,  played  by  Moliere's  troup  in  1660.     This  play  is  not 
usually  connected  with  the  Abb£  de  Pure's  novel.     Cf.  V.  Fournel,  Les  Contemporains  de 
Moliere,  vol.  n,  p.  5. 

2  Larroumet,  op.  cit.,  p.  34,  points  out  differences  in  style  which  betray  such  a  collabo- 
ration. 

3  Pp.  469—470.    .See  Roy,  Ch.  Sorel,  p.  287  and  Identity  of  Somaize  II,  p.  81. 

4  The  only  expression  which  we  cannot  find  in  the  Dictionnaire  is  the  paraphrase 
for  marriage :  L'amour  ftny  &  VAbysme  de  la  Liberte. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  379 


UNE  SOURCE  POSSIBLE  DE  'SALAMMBO.' 

Lorsque  Salammbd,  allongeant  son  bras  nu,  lance  centre  Matho,  tout 
rayonnant  du  zaimph  qui  1'enveloppe,  ses  imprecations  vengeresses,  elle 
s'ecrie : 

...Que  Gurzil,  dieu  des  batailles,  te  dechire  !  que  Mastiman,  dieu  des  morts 
t'etoufte1!... 

Mastiman  inquieta  M.  Froehner  qui  mit  en  doute  son  existence  et 
ecrivit  dans  la  Revue  Gontemporaine?  : 

...la  plupart  des  autres  dieux  invoques  dans  Salammbo  sont  de  pure  invention. 
Qui  a  jamais  entendu  parler  d'un  Aptouknos,  d'un  Schaoul  ou  d'un  Mastiman  ? 

A  quoi  Flaubert  repliqua  en  indiquant  ses  sources: 

...vous  affirmez  avec  la  m£me...candeur  que  'la  plupart  des  autres  dieux  in- 
voques dans  Salammbo  sont  de  pure  invention ,'  et  vous  ajoutez  :  '  Qui  a  entendu 
parler. .  .d'un  Mastimann  1 '  II  est  mentionne  comme  Dieu  par  Corippus  (V.  Johanneis 
et  Mem.  de  V Academic  des  Inscriptions,  t.  xn,  p.  18 13). 

Voila  qui  est  precis.  Trop  precis  meme :  car,  si  Ton  fait  les  verifica- 
tions sollicitees  par  Flaubert,  on  trouve  que  Corippus  mentionne  en 
effet  Mastiman  en  sa  Johannide*,  sans  indiquer  toutefois  tres  nettement 
que  c'est  un  'dieu  des  morts';  au  t.  XII,  p.  181  des  Memoires  de 
I'Academie  des  Inscriptions  (ancienne  serie)  commence  un  article  de 
M.  Saint-Martin,  intitule  Observations  sur  un  passage  de  Salluste  relatif 
a  V  origine  persane  des  Maures  et  de  plusieurs  autres  peuples  de  I' Europe 
septentrionale,  article  ou  il  n'est  question  ni  de  Gurzil  ni  de  Mastiman. 

Y  a-t-il  la  une  erreur  comme  il  y  en  a  tant  dans  les  renvois  qu'a 
faits  Flaubert  a  ses  sources  ?  Ce  n'est  pas  impossible ;  il  est  pourtant 
difficile  de  1'admettre,  puisque  nous  savons  a  n'en  pas  douter  que 
Flaubert  a  lu  et  la  Johannide5  et  le  memoire  de  Saint-Martin6. 

La  solution  de  ce  petit  probleme  est  sans  doute  la  suivante: 
Flaubert  aura  pris  ses  notes  dans  un  ouvrage  de  seconde  main  ou  il 
trouvait  cote  a  cote  'Gurzil,  dieu  des  batailles,  Mastiman,  dieu  des 
morts '  et  le  renvoi  exact  au  memoire  de  Saint-Martin ;  mais  il  n'aura 

1  Salammbo,  edition  originale,  p.  124 ;  ed.  Conard,  p.  107  (les  autres  renvois  seront 
faits  &  cette  edition). 

2  31  decembre  1862,  t.  LXV,  pp.  859—860. 

3  Revue  contemporaine,  t.  LXVI,  p.  416.     Cf.  Correspondance,  in,  p.  354. 

4  Ed.  I.  Bekker,  Bonn,  1836,  iv,  69  (Mastiman  ferum)  et  vn,  307-309  (v.  infra)  :  en 
ces  deux  passages  Mastiman  est  cite  en  compagnie  de  Gurzil. 

5  Cf.   Salammbo,  p.  447 :   '  Corippus :  Johannis  m'a  e"te"  fort  utile  pour  les  anciennes 
peuplades  africaines.' 

6  Cf.  Salammbo,  p.  446:   Flaubert  a  analyse"   fort  exactement  ce  memoire:    '...Un 
passage  de  Salluste  (Jugurtha)  peu  remarque  parle  d'une  invasion  assyrienne  conduite 
par  Hercule   sur  les  cotes  d'Afrique . . . '  et  a  renvoye  aux  Mem.  Acad.   Inscr.,   t.  xn, 
ancienne  serie. 

25—2 


380  Miscellaneous  Notes 

pas  remarque,  en  repondant  a  M.  Froehner,  que  le  memoire  de  Saint- 
Martin  etait  cite  a  propos  d'autre  chose  que  de  Mastiman.  Get  ouvrage 
existe  :  c'est  la  traduction  du  livre  de  Creuzer  que,  de  1825  a  1852, 
Guigniaut  publia  avec  eclaircissements  et  notes  sous  le  titre  Religions 
de  Uantiquite  ;  on  y  lit  * : 

...Les  peuples  de  la  Marmarique  adoraient  encore,  au  vie  siecle,  ime  divinite 
qu'ils  appelaient  Gurzil,  et  a  laquelle  ils  associaient  le  culte  d'Ammon,  emprunte 
aux  Egyptiens.  Nous  ignorons  quelle  etait  la  nature  de  ce  Gurzila,  dont  Corippe 
qualifie  les  simulacres  dhorrida11.  II  parait  avoir  ete  le  Mars  de  cette  peuplade. 

Les  Maures  ou  Numides,  peuple  d'origine  medique,  suivant  Salluste,  et  ainsi  qu'a 
cherche  &  le  demontrer  Saint-Martin0,  adoraient  un  dieu  infernal  qu'ils  riommaient 
Mastimand... Corippe  donne  &  Mastiman  1'epithete  deferus,  parce  que  les  Maures  lui 
sacrifiaient  des  victimes  humaines.     C'est  ce  qui  fait  dire  a  ce  poete  : 
Mastiman  alii :    Maurorum  hoc  nomine  gentes 
Tsenarium  dixere  Jovem,  qui  sanguine  multo 
Huinani  generis  mactatur  victima  pesti. 

Job.  vii,  307-9. 

"  Corippi  Johannidos  vm,  303,  ed.  Bekker,  p.  152. 
&  Johann.  n,  109,  p.  47. 

c  S.  Martin,  Mem.  de  VAcad.  des  Inscript.  et  Belles-lettres,  t.  xn,  p.  181  sq. 
d  Coripp.,  iv,  682. 

De  ce  texte  Flaubert  pouvait  tirer,  beaucoup  plus  aisement  que 
de  Corippus,  ses  indications  sur  la  nature  des  dieux  Gurzil  et  Mastirnan, 
et  cette  page,  lue — ou  relue — sans  doute  un  peu  vite  a  1'occasion  d'une 
polemique  de  presse,  lui  fournissait  en  outre  son  renvoi  '  precis.' 

Cette  me'prise  n'est  qu'une  amusante  ve"tille,  qui  a  son  importance, 
s'il  est  etabli  ainsi  que  Flaubert  a  utilise  la  traduction  de  Creuzer  en 
preparant  Salammbo.  Des  1848  au  plus  tard  il  la  pratiquait2,  et  nous 
savons  qu'il  s'en  servit  pour  La  Tentation  de  Saint  Antoine  de  18743 ; 
mais  on  n'en  decouvre  nulle  mention  dans  les  lettres  et  les  notes  jus- 
qu'ici  publiees  et  qui  se  rapportent  a  la  preparation  du  roman  carthagi- 
nois.  C'est  par  pur  hasard,  selon  toute  vraisemblance ;  quoi  qu'il  en 
soit,  il  vaudrait  peut-etre  la  peine  de  rechercher  si  Flaubert  ne  doit  pas 
plus  au  fran9ais  de  Guigniaut  qu'au  latin  de  Corippus,  de  Selden  et  de 
Braunius,  ou  a  1'allemand  de  Movers. 

A.  TERRACHER. 
LIVERPOOL. 

1  T.  ii,  3e  partie,  Paris,  1849,  pp.  1035-1036  (note  13— de  A.  M[aury]— sur  la  religion 
des  Carthaginois). 

2  Maury  aurait  pu  la  lui  signaler;  cf.  Correspondance,  i,  298  (lettre  a  Du  Camp,  3  avril 
1848) :  '  je  lisais  les  religions  de  Vantiquite  de  Kreutzer '  (on  sait  que  le  titre  de  1'ouvrage 
allemand  est  Symbolik...). 

3  V.  La  Premiere  Tentation  de  Saint  Antoine  publie"e  par  Louis  Bertrand,  Paris,  1908, 
p.  299. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  381 


A  NOTE  ON  AN  ALLUSION  TO  ROME  IN  THE  'DiviNA  COMMEDIA.' 

As  Dante  visited  Rome  in  the  year  of  Jubilee,  A.D.  1300,  allusions 
to  the  city  are  naturally  to  be  found  in  the  pages  of  the  Divina  Corn- 
media.  The  word  '  Rome  '  occurs  seventeen  times,  mostly  in  relation 
to  historical  events.  There  are  also  allusions  to  the  Tiber  and  the 
Castle  of  St  Angelo :  and  the  Vatican  and  the  old  basilica  of  St  Peter 
have  furnished  Dante  with  illustrations  to  his  poem. 

Among  these  allusions  is  one  upon  which  it  seemed  possible  that 
more  light  might  be  thrown  by  a  further  examination  of  the  topo- 
graphy of  the  city.  This  is  in  Inf.  xvm,  lines  28 — 33  : 

* 

Come  i  Roman,  per  1'  esercito  molto 

L'  anno  del  Giubbileo,  su  per  lo  ponte 

Hanno  a  passar  la  .gente  modo  tolto  : 
Che  dall'  un  lato  tutti  hanno  la  fronte 

Verso  il  castello,  e  vanno  a  Santo  Pietro, 

Dall'  altera  sponda  vanno  verso  il  monte.... 

Here  'lo  ponte'  refers  of  course  to  the  Ponte  di  Sant'  Angelo,  then  the 
only  bridge  over  the  Tiber  at  that  part  of  the  city.  'II  monte'  has  been 
variously  conjectured  to  be  the  Janiculum,  or  Monte  Giordano.  The 
first  solution  to  be  proposed,  viz.  the  Janiculum,  has  been  repeated  by 
nearly  all  commentators.  When,  however,  it  was  observed  that  the 
Janiculum  was  on  the  same  side  of  the  river  as  St  Peter's,  some 
explained  the  difficulty  by  remarking  that  the  bend  in  the  Tiber  would 
bring  the  Janiculum  into  sight  on  crossing  the  bridge,  although  it 
could  not  be  reached  except  by  returning  to  the  Vatican  side :  others 
suggested  Monte  Giordano,  an  elevation  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river 
to  the  Vatican,  but  some  distance  away  from  it,  and  unassociated  with 
pilgrims.  In  fact,  this  hill  was  of  late  mediaeval  formation :  of  small 
importance,  it  was  reached  by  a  narrow  and  inconvenient  road.  This 
later  explanation,  then,  is  not  generally  accepted1.  Would  it  be 
possible  to  admit  as  an  alternative  Monte  Brianzo  ?  This  was  an 
ancient  hill,  marked  in  maps  representing  Rome  of  the  fourth  century. 
It  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  from  St  Peter's,  and  thus  fulfils 
the  requirements  of  the  text.  The  Via  di  Monte  Brianzo  which  led 
from  the  hill  to  the  Ponte  di  Sant'  Angelo  was  part  of  the  great 
pilgrimage  road  to  the  Basilica.  It  was  originally  a  road  of  consider 
able  width,  but  the  recent  embankment  of  the  Tiber,  which,  by 

1  See  Dr  Paget  Toynbee's  Dante  Dictionary  and  Dr  Butler's  edition  of  the  Inferno 


382  Miscellaneous  Notes 

necessitating  the  removal  of  houses  on  the  bank,  has  exposed  the 
opening  of  the  Via  di  Monte  Brianzo,  has  also  narrowed  the  road  itself 
and  disguised  its  historical  importance.  At  the  junction  of  the  bridge 
and  of  the  road  still  stands  the  ancient  Albergo  dell'  Orso,  where  Dante 
is  said  to  have  stayed.  One  ancient  window  remains  on  the  outside 
wall  of  the  building,  and  the  interior  is  said  to  be  practically  as  it  was 
in  Dante's  time.  Along  the  road  to  Monte  Brianzo  were  the  shops  of 
the  Florentine  bankers  and  goldsmiths,  where  the  Florentine  pilgrims 
congregated1.  It  would  therefore  be  reasonable  to  suppose  that  to  a 
Florentine  Monte  Brianzo  would  be  '  II  Monte.'  The  hill  was  levelled 
about  1870  when  many  new  buildings  were  erected  there. 

E.    F.    JOURDAIN. 

J.  EVANS. 
OXFORD. 


GOETHE'S  '  TASSO  '  IN  ENGLAND. 

On  page  225,  note  1,  of  the  present  volume  of  the  Modern  Language 
Review,  I  printed  a  letter  from  William  Taylor  to  Henry  Crabb 
Robinson  concerning  Goethe's  Iphigenie.  By  an  unfortunate  oversight 
on  my  part,  this  letter  was  there  described  as  unpublished ;  whereas  it 
was  actually  edited  by  J.  M.  Carre*  in  his  article  in  the  Revue  Germanique, 
vol.  vin,  no.  1,  p.  36. 

In  this  same  article  M.  Carre  refers  to  a  fragmentary  translation  of 
Goethe's  Tasso  made  by  Crabb  Robinson  during  his  first  stay  in 
Germany,  and  to  which  allusion  is.  made  in  the  published  Diary. 
M.  Carre  was  fortunate  enough  to  discover  this  translation  in  a  bundle 
of  loose  papers  amongst  the  Crabb  Robinson  documents  in  the 
Dr  Williams'  Library.  I  take  the  opportunity  of  giving  a  more  detailed 
account  of  the  fragment  in  question. 

The  allusion  in  the  printed  friary*,  which  is  taken  from  a  letter  to 
his  brother,  Thomas,  dated  November  14,  1802,  is  as  follows :  '  After,, 
perhaps,  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  pen  a  few  English  iambics  in  a 

,  x  See  Eodolfo  Lanciani,  The  Golden  Days  of  the  Renaissance  in  Rome,  where  he  says 
that  the  year  1800  is  '  usually  called  the  Giubileo  di  Dante,  because  the  divine  poet  is  said 
to  have  visited  Eome  on  that  occasion,  and  to  have  met  there  Immanuel  ben  Salomo, 
from  whom  he  learned  the  few  Hebrew  words  which  appear  in  the  "Divina  Commedia"/ 
Lanciani  also  favours  the  tradition  that  Dante  lodged  in  the  Albergo  dell'  Orso. 

2  Diary,   Reminiscences,    and   Correspondence  of  Henry    Crabb   Robinson,    edited   by 
T.  Sadler,  1872,  vol.  i,  p.  64. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  383 

translation  of  Goethe's  Tasso,  I  shall  read  in  bed  some  fairy  tale,  poem, 
or  other  light  work.' 

The  translation  did  not  apparently  progress  very  far.  All  that  has 
been  preserved  are  Act  I,  Scene  1,  in  its  entirety,  and  eighteen  lines  of 
Scene  2,  and  it  appears  probable  that  this  is  all  that  was  ever  com- 
pleted. At  least  the  MS.  in  the  Dr  Williams'  Library  is  the  original 
sketch,  as  is  shown  by  the  numerous  variants  and  corrections.  Further 
it  breaks  off  suddenly,  although  there  are  still  several  blank  sheets 
available.  One  can  only  conclude  that,  as  in  the  case  of  his  trans- 
lation of  the  Die  Piccolomini,  he  grew  weary  of  the  magnitude  of 
the  task  he  had  set  himself.  He  may  easily  have  been  discouraged  by 
the  ill-success  of  his  translation  of  Anton  Wall's  Amatonda1,  which,  in 
spite  of  the  good  wishes  of  Coleridge  and  Lamb,  '  fell  dead  from  the 
press.'  Robinson  goes  on  to  tell  us  how  the  failure  of  this  literary 
venture  '  made  me  willing  to  devote  myself  honestly  to  the  Law,  and  so 
saved  me  from  the  mortification  that  follows  a  little  literary  success2.' 
Henceforth  he  restricted  his  endeavours  to  encouraging  others  to 
attempt  what  he  felt  was  beyond  his  powers.  And  again,  the  appear- 
ance of  Des  Voeux'  Tasso  in  1827  rendered  superfluous  his  own  under- 
taking. 

On  the  whole,  it  cannot  be  said  that  the  discontinuation  of  Robinson's 
Tasso  translation  is  much  to  be  deplored.  Keen  as  was  his  appreciation 
of  literature,  his  poetic  abilities  were  not  of  a  very  high  order.  The 
chief,  perhaps  the  only  merit  of  his  version,  is  its  fidelity  to  the  original 
text.  The  deviations  from  the  actual  letter  of  the  original  are  so  few, 
that  in  the  245  lines  of  the  translation  I  can  only  point  out  three 
insignificant  examples3.  This  fidelity  is  such  as  to  impair  the  value 
of  the  translation ;  it  reads  occasionally  very  wooden,  almost  un-English. 
The  following  quotation  will  sufficiently  illustrate  this  tendency  and 
must  also  serve  as  a  sample  of  the  translation : 

1.  58.     Sehr  leicht  zerstreut  der  Zufall,  was  er  sammelt. 
Bin  edler  Mensch  zieht  edle  Menschen  an 
Und  weifi  sie  fest  zuhalten,  wie  ihr  tut. 
What  Chance  unites,  Chance  can  destroy  again. 
A  noble  Soul  draws  noble  Souls  to  it 
And  binds  them  fast,  as  you  have  ever  done. 

1  Amatonda.     A  Tale  from  the  German  of  Anton  Wall.     London  :  Longman,  Hurst, 
Eees,  Orme  and  Brown,  1811. 

2  Diary,  1872  ed.  i,  p.  187. 

3  L.   7    'We    here    resemble    happy   village    girls'    (' Wir   scheinen   recht    begliickte 
Schaferinnen ') ;   1.  21  'At  times  like  these,  to  come  to  our  retreat'  ('In  diesen  Tagen 
schon  aufs  Land  gebracht ') ;  1.  42  '  Do  not,  Princess,  /  In  an  hour  of  Bliss  remind  me 
that  that  /  Bliss  so  soon  will  end '  ('  Erinnere  mich  in  diesen  holden  Stunden,  /  0  Fiirstin, 
nicht,  wie  bald  ich  scheiden  soil '). 


384  Miscellaneous  Notes 

To  you  and  to  your  Brother,  Minds  are  bound 

Worthy  of  your's.     And  you  still  emulate 

Your  glorious  Ancestors.     Here  first  the  light 

Of  Science  and  free  thinking1  spread  abroad, 

Whilst  the  thick  night  of  Barbarism  hung 

Over  the  world  besides.     When  but  a  Child, 

The  Names  Hippolitus  and  Hercules 

Of  Esta  rung2  full  in  my  Ear.     I  heard 

My  father  often  speak  of  Ferrara 

With  Rome  and  Florence :  I  have  often  longed 

To  be  there,  and  my  wish  is  here  fulfill'd.    . 

Petrarch  was  welcom'd  and  was  honour'd  here, 

And  Ariosto  found  his  Modells  here. 

There  is  not  a  great  Name  in  Italy 

Which  has  not  been  a  guest  here  in  this  house. 

And  it  is  advantageous  to  receive 

A  Genius  as  guest,  for  he  returns 

Your  hospitable  gift  by  one  more  rich. 

The  spot  in  which  a  good  man  has  reposed, 

Is  sanctified  to  Ages  far  remote, 

And  after  Centuries  past  his  Word,  his  Deeds, 

For  his  Descendants  all  resound  again3. 

Robinson's  Tasso  translation,  although  easily  on  a  level,  if  not 
superior  to  that  of  Des  Voeux,  cannot  for  a  moment  compare  with  that 
of  the  accomplished  translator  Miss  A.  Swanwick4.  The  latter  so  fulfils 
the  ideals  of  a  translation,  that  it  faithfully  reproduces  the  text  of  the 
original,  and  yet  reads  like  an  original.  Robinson's  translation  was 
successful  only  on  the  former  count.  Its  interest  to  us  to-day  is  purely 
historical.  It  is  yet  a  further  testimony  of  Robinson's  untiring  activity  in 
the  cause  of  German  literature  in  England5  and  for  that  reason  deserves 
a  place,  however  humble,  in  any  history  of  Anglo-German  literary 
relations  in  the  early  nineteenth  century. 

L.   A.    WlLLOUGHBY. 
OXFORD. 

1  Variant:  of  lib'ral  thought  ('Der  Wissenschaft,  des  freien  Denkens'). 
a  MS.  wrung. 

3  Variant :  revive. 

4  I  have  in  mind  the  revised  edition  of  1875.     ( The  Dramatic  Works  of  Goethe,  vol.  viu, 
Bonn's  Library.) 

5  Crabb  Kobinson  was  indefatigable  in  this  respect.     J.  M.  Carre  in  the  Archiv  fur 
neuere  Sprachen  1913-14,  p.  425  publishes  evidence  of  Kobinson's  interest  in  Whewell's 
translation   of  Hermann  and  Dorothea.      Intending  translators  turned  for  information, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  to  Eobinson,  as  the  chief  English  authority  on  Germany  and 
the  Germans. 


DISCUSSIONS. 

ENGLISH  AND  FRENCH  METRIC. 
See  Modern  Language  Review,  vol.  vin,  pp.  104 — 108. 

In  the  conclusion  of  my  preceding  article,  I  declared  that  I  did  not 
wish  to  discuss  any  further  with  my  reviewer.  As  he  has  changed  his 
tone,  may  I  not  change  my  mind  ?  After  debating  the  question  with 
myself  for  a  long  time,  I  think  I  may — and  ought :  principles  are  at 
stake,  and  it  is  every  one's  duty  to  stand  and  fight  for  his  own  as  best 
he  can.  I  therefore  salute  my  adversary  with  my  sword,  in  acknow- 
ledgment of  the  courteous  style  of  his  last  attack — and  I  parry. 

Metric  is  certainly  a  science  of  observation  :  we  metrists  neither 
make  the  lines  we  study  nor  have  any  right  to  rebuild  them.  Must  a 
countryman  of  Bacon  and  Locke  be  reminded  that  the  first  principle  in 
a  science  of  observation  is  merely  and  simply  to  observe  ?  This  is  what 
I  do.  When  classing  and  explaining  what  we  have  observed,  we  should 
of  course  conform  to  the  laws  of  logic.  This  also  I  try  to  do.  At  any 
rate  I  have  never  denied  the  'law  of  causation,'  or  the  fact  (not  law !) 
'that  twice  two  is  four,'  or  the  like.  When  I  meet  the  word  'merrily' 
in  a  line,  for  instance,  I  always  count  three  syllables, — Professor  Rudmose- 
Brown  sometimes  three  and  sometimes  two.  That  is,  I  profess  that 
1  +  1  +  1  is  always  three, — Professor  Rudmose-Brown  that  it  may  be 
either  three  or  two,  in  adjustment  'to  a  fixed  and  definite  metrical 
scheme.'  When  a  line  is  divided  in  everybody's  pronunciation  into 
falling  rhythmic  groups,  I  cannot  but  regard  the  rhythm  as  falling, 
though  Professor  Rudmose-Brown  maintains  that  it  must  be  now  falling 
and  now  rising,  in  accordance  with  'what  is  fundamental  in  all  metrical 
investigation.'  I  wonder  what  'physicists'  and  'mathematicians'  would 
think  of  his  'science.' 

My  'polemic'  about  rising  and  falling  rhythm  is  said  to  'prove 
nothing.'  Why  ?  Because  my  division  into  rhythmic  groups,  on  which 
it  rests,  differs  from  my  scansion  into  bars.  Of  course  it  does.  And  so 
do  musical  phrases  from  musical  bars.  A  bar,  i.e.  the  interval  between 
two  beats,  is  neither  falling  nor  rising  (though  it  rather  reminds  of  the 
falling  scansion,  as  it  begins  with  the  strong  syllable).  A  rhythmic 
group,  i.e.  a  group  consisting  of  a  strong  syllable  and  the  weak  ones 
connected  with  it,  can  be  rising,  falling,  rising- falling,  or,  if  a  compound 
one,  falling-rising. 

In  the  following  lines  the  scansion  into  bars  is  indicated  by  the 


386  Discussions 

position  of  the  beats  (italics),  the  division  into  rhythmic  groups  by  the 
grouping  of  the  symbols  V  (strong)  and  'w'  (weak)  as  well  as  by  different 
blanks : 

To  pass  his  days  in  peace  among  his  own 
ws       ws       ws  ws       ws 

Beautiful  Paris,  evil-hearted  Paris 
sw\v     sw  sw     sw     sw 

Strong  with  the  strength  of  the  race  to  command,  to  obey,  to  endure 
s          wws       wws  wws  wws  wws  (w) 

It  is  easy  to  see  that  both  bars  and  rhythmic  groups  exist  together 
in  the  poetical  reading  of  these  and  any  other  lines. 

But  the  'feet'  and  the  'rising'  or  'falling'  rhythm  of  traditional 
metric  often  exist  on  paper  only,  i.e.  in  mere  theoretical  'schemes.'  No 
pouring  of  the  'phonetical  liquid  . . .  into  metrical  bottles/  as  Professor 
Rudmose-Brown  puts  it,  or  any  other  metrical  hocus-pocus  whatever, 
can  allow  us  to  chop  the  last  two  lines  in  actual  pronunciation  into 
orthodox 'iambs'  or  'dactyls': 

Beauti        ful  Par        is,  e        vil-heart        ed  Par        is. 
Strong  with  the        strength  of  t.he        race  to  com        mand,  to  o        bey, 
to  en        dure. 

Professor  Rudmose-Brown  appeals  to  the  authority  of  MM.  Rousselot, 
Passy,  de  Souza,  Landry  and  Legouis,  in  order  to  teach  me  the  position 
of  stress  and  beat  in  the  French  Alexandrine.  This,  of  course,  'part 
d'un  bon  naturel,'  as  La  Fontaine  has  it.  But  it  sounds  to  me — by  his 
leave — rather  amusing:  all  these  gentlemen,  except  M.  de  Souza,  are 
personal  acquaintances  of  mine,  some  of  them  very  intimate  ones,  and  I 
know  that  we  fully  agree  in  this  respect.  I  have  repeated  over  and 
over  again,  even  in  my  preceding  article,  what  we  all  think  and  pro- 
claim :  (1)  our  stress  always  rests  in  'dictionary  pronunciation'  on  the 
last  full  syllable  of  isolated  words,  but  it  often  shifts  in  sentences  and 
even  separate  word-groups  ;  (2)  our  normal  Alexandrine  contains 
four  beats,  but  the  weak  syllables,  as  well  as  in  English  and  German 
verse,  are  not  all  of  them  equally  weak.  This  is  exactly  what  my 
colleague  and  friend  Professor  Legouis  says  and  illustrates  in  the 
passage  quoted  against  me.  I  certainly  admit  his  competence,  but 
not  a  confessed  misrepresentation  of  a  very  clear  statement  of  his. 
None  of  us  either  pronounces  or  scans 

Le  soleil  le  revet  d'eclatantes  coulewrs. 

I  assure  Professor  Rudmose-Brown  that  no  'French  ear  is  satisfied 
with  the  adjustment.' 

He  urges,  as  a  sort  of  proof,  that  I  myself  scan  a  French  Alexandrine 
— quite  a  different  one  ! — 'iambically' : 

Le  grand  |  feuilla  j  ge  vert  j  autour  |  de  moi  |  chantait. 


Discussions  387 

The  'iambic  scansion/  though  adduced  in  my  book  by  way  of  com- 
parison, is  not  mine.  This  appears  from  the  accompanying  foot-note:  'Je 
divise  en  pieds  d'apres  le  procede  qu'on  applique  aux  vers  anglais  et 
j'imprime  en  gras  les  syllabes  accentuees'  (Vol.  i,  p.  iv).  Any  reader  of 
my  Metriqiie  knows  that  I  neither  approve  of  the  traditional  scansion 
of  English  verse  nor  identify  'beat'  with  'stress.'  My  scansion  is  the 
following  (the  durations  are  indicated  by  figures,  1  =  a  quaver,  and  the 
beat  by  italics) : 

Le  grand  feuillage  vert  autour  de  moi  chantait. 
x        2         f    f    i    *       f    }    i    ..-*         2      * 

Neither  do  I  admit  that  the  scansion  of  French  lines  can  be  deduced 
from  that  of  English  lines,  or  conversely.  Here,  though  charged  by 
him  with  suggesting  the  contrary,  I  fully  agree  with  Professor  Saints- 
bury.  I  certainly  applied  the  traditional  English  scansion  to  a  few 
French  lines,  but  only  in  order  to  show  its  want  of  logic.  I  might  as 
well  have  chosen,  say,  a  row  of  houses. 

A  Frenchman's  first  impression  of  English  verse  illustrates  the 
difference  between  our  rhythms,  especially  with  regard  to  our  respective 
Alexandrines.  Even  though  an  English  regular  'tumbling  verse'  or 
'anapaestic  dimeter'  at  once  sounds  to  French  ears  like  verse,  by  reason 
of  its  four  beats  and  twelve  syllables,  both  of  which  remind  of  our 
Alexandrine,  the  two  metres  differ  greatly.  Not  only  is  the  beat  much 
stronger  in  the  English  than  in  the  French  verse — and  this  constitutes 
an  essential,  characteristic  feature — but  the  time  is  on  the  whole  triple 
in  the  former  and  duple  in  the  latter : 

The  Assyrian  came  down  like  the  wolf  on  the  fold1. 
11X1         1         1         \11113 
Le  soleil  le  revet  d'eclatowtes  coulewrs. 
112112       1121       12 

Discussion  is  not  always  palatable.  But  it  is  a  real  pleasure,  a  real 
profit  too,  when  you  meet  solid  reasons,  founded  on  facts.  One  of  the 
best  English  metrists  has  raised  an  objection  of  this  sort,  in  our  private 
correspondence,  against  applying  the  same  scansion  to  'iambic'  and 
'trochaic'  verse,  i.e.  against  regarding  every  initial  weak  syllable  as  an 
anacrusis  :  'Find  me  in  Shakespeare's  sonnets,  in  Paradise  Lost,  in  the 
Idylls  of  the  King,  a  line  which  distinctly  contains  only  nine  syllables, 
and  I  will  reconsider  the  question.' 

I  answered,  thinking  of  the  only  verse  he  mentioned:  'Why  should 
the  anacrusis  be  suppressed  without  syllabic  compensation  of  some  sort 
any  more  than  any  other  weak  syllable  ?' 

He  replied:  'The  singular  thing  is  that  it  is  habitually  so  sup- 
pressed in  octosyllabic  verse,  but  not  in  decasyllabic,  and  I  have  never 
seen  any  satisfactory  reason  assigned  for  this  difference.' 

1  I  need  hardly  remark  that  the  quavers  (1)  are  not  exactly  equal  in  practice,  which  is 
also  the  case  in  song.  When  the  variations  are  pretty  constant,  we  had  better  note  them. 
In  the  present  instance  Mr  William  Thomson  reads  thus:  1,  1,  1,  1,  1, 1\,  1,  i.  1%,  f » I,  3. 
According  to  him  two  lines  only  in  the  poem  are  purely  '  triple,'  viz. :  The  lances 
unlifted,  the  trumpet  unblown, — And  the  idols  are  broke  in  the  temple  of  Baal. 


388  Discussions 

The  reason,  to  me,  is  obvious. 

There  are  in  English  poetry  two  great  classes  of  metres :  beat- verse 
and  syllabic  verse.  In  both,  of  course,  the  rhythm  is  accentual,  i.e.  rests 
on  the  isochronous  recurrence  of  a  beat  marked  by  intensity  according 
to  the  natural  accentuation  of  the  language. 

In  beat-verse,  which  is  genuinely  native,  weak  syllables  may  be 
suppressed  or  doubled  without  any  compensation  whatever.  Such  is 
the  metre  of  Christabel — not  an  octosyllabic,  but  a  four-beat  verse.  In 
syllabic  verse,  which  is  mostly  borrowed  from  the  French,  no  syllable 
may  be  suppressed  or  doubled  without  a  compensating  addition  or 
omission  in  another  bar.  Such  is  the  metre  of  the  real  octosyllabic,  as 
in  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  and  of  heroic  verse.  Contamination  is  not 
rare :  beat-verse  often  tends  to  be  syllabic,  syllabic  verse  to  freedom  in 
the  treatment  of  weak  syllables. 

These  two  classes  of  metres,  beat-verse  and  syllabic  verse,  also 
existed  in  Greek  poetry,  almost  for  the  same  reasons, — though,  of  course, 
on  a  quantitative  basis.  I  am  writing  a  paper  on  the  subject. 

As  the  above-mentioned  correspondence  bears  on  the  two  methods 
at  issue,  viz.  iambic  scansion  versus  anacrusis,  I  have  thought  it  right 
to  discuss  it  here. 

To  return  to  Professor  Rudmose-Brown.  De  minimis  non  curat 
praetor :  'As  long  as  we  are  at  variance  on  first  principles,'  he  will 
ignore  'minor  matters  of  divergence,  however  important.'  Our  principles 
are  certainly  not  the  same.  Let  us  sum  up  the  discussion.  (1)  When 
a  word  undoubtedly  consists  of  three  syllables,  like  '  merrily,'  I  count  it 
for  three  syllables  in  any  line  whatever,  he  for  three  in  some  and  for  two 
in  others,  so  that  it  may  fit  into  his  'metrical  bottles.'  (2)  When  verse 
undoubtedly  consists  of  falling  rhythmic  groups,  I  regard  the  rhythm  as 
falling,  he  as  falling  or  rising  out  of  consideration  for  the  aforesaid 
'metrical  bottles.'  (3)  When  a  French  authority  asserts  that  the 
French  Alexandrine  contains  four  beats,  I  take  the  statement  for  what 
it  says  and  means,  he  as  a  proof  that  the  French  Alexandrine  contains 
six  beats.  'On  one  point  and  on  one  point  only'  does  he  accept  my 
'correction.'  I  must  therefore  assume  that  he  still  deems  it  a  'want  of 
common  sense'  on  my  part  when  I  try  two  hats  on  one  head  in  order  to 
see  which  fits.  This,  too,  much  more  than  my  joke  on  L.  Reinach,  is  a 
question  of  principles. 

PAUL  VERRIER. 

PARIS. 


REVIEWS. 

Lei  Literature:  Creation,  Succes,  Duree.  Par  FERNAND  BALDEN- 
8PERGER  (Bibliotheque  de  Philosophic  scientifique}.  Paris :  Flam- 
marion.  1913.  8vo.  330  pp. 

This  original,  rather  tough  little  book  explores,  and^  that  with 
skilled  woodcraft,  a  region  only  half-cleared  in  the  jungle  of  Poetic.  Its 
aim  is  described  (p.  3)  as : 

...&  philosopher  sur  la  vie  des  formes  litteraires  et  k  offrir,  a  distance  egale  de 
1'esthetique,  de  1'histoire  et  de  la  sociologie,  quelques  considerations  generates... 

The  life  of  forms :  both  the  terms  need  explaining  in  this  context. 
The  second  of  them  receives  the  widest  possible  range.  It  covers  the 
literary  mould,  species,  or  genre ;  and  every  element  in  the  structure  of 
a  given  species ;  and  also  every  constituent  of  style,  language,  or  rhythm. 
As  for  the  word  '  life/  its  import  is  partly  denned  by  the  sub-title,  which 
indicates  first  of  all  the  creative  process,  or  inner  laboratory,  of  art ; 
then  the  connexion  between  the  work  of  art  and  the  society,  or  public, 
in  which  it  arises :  and,  lastly,  its  relationship  with  posterity.  The 
third  of  these  aspects  is  clearly  an  extension  of  the  second ;  and 
M.  Baldensperger's  inquiry  really  circles,  sometimes  a  trifle  confusedly, 
round  two  foci,  or  points  in  which  many  pathways  meet.  One  of  these 
foci  is"  the  artistic  process  itself,  as  it  is  shaped  by  the  artist's  personal 
vision,  by  the  appeal  of  the  past  of  art,  or  by  the  art  of  other  lands  and 
languages.  In  M.  Baldensperger's  hands,  this  is  not  quite  the  same  as 
the  field,  so  much  and  often  so  crudely  tilled  already,  of  '  comparative 
literature ' ;  though  it  supplies  many  shrewd  cautions  and  reserves  as 
to  the  method  of  cultivating  that  field. 

There  is  not  much  about  sources  and  origins;  the  weight  is  duly 
laid  on  what  the  artist  does,  rather  than  on  what  he  receives ;  and  the 
chapter  on  the  '  effort  towards  expression,'  an  essay  in  the  psychology  of 
creation  (pp.  15 — 53),  touches  with  tact  and  wide  knowledge  on  themes 
like  'le  point  genetique,'  or  the  flash  in  which  Montesquieu  or  Gibbon 
saw  in  advance  the  shape  and  purport  of  a  great  work  (a  similar 
Promethean  divination  is,  I  believe,  assigned  to  the  inventor  of  the 
steam-hammer) ;  the  starting-point  offered  to  a  poet  by  a  single  word, 
phrase,  or  line ;  the  stages  of  '  half-creation '  at  which  the  work  often 
stops — '  1'art  qui  demontre,  la  piece  a  these,  et  la  musique  a  programme ' ; 
and  the  final  achievement,  now  brought  to  birth  and  '  a  being 


390  Reviews 

distinct  from  its  author.'  Some  wise  cautions  follow  (which  Dr  Brandes 
and  Mr  Frank  Harris  might  equally  take  to  heart)  against  the  wrong 
way  of  '  finding  the  author  in  his  work/  or  '  1'indiscret  souci  des  equiva- 
lences.' But,  though  the  work  of  art  has  become  '  distinct/  it  is  none 
the  less  individual;  and,  above  all,  it  has  arisen,  like  all  individual 
things,  out  of  a  certain  resistance  to  the  world  around  it.  This  brings 
us  to  the  second  '  focus '  of  M.  Baldensperger's  reflections  and  to  the 
most  suggestive  part  of  his  work.  Suggestive,  tentacular,  wary  : — that 
is  his  method,  rather  than  dogmatic  or  conclusive.  His  style  tends  to 
be  abstract  and  densely-packed ;  his  material  is  very  rich  ;  and  here  I 
can  only  pick  out  one  of  his  guiding  clues. 

The  two  chapters  called  '  L'initiative  des  inadapte's '  and  '  La 
litterature,  expression  de  la  societe'  furnish  one  of  these  clues,  and 
well  show  the  writer's  habit  of  mind.  We  are  all  familiar  equally  with 
the  notion  of  the  artist  as  a  rebel,  breaking  away  alike  from  the  social 
and  the  artistic  formulae  around  him ;  and  with  the  other  notion  that 
his  work  is  an  f  expression/  product,  or  index  of  the  life  and  temper  of 
his  age.  Plainly  there  is  truth  in  both  ideas ;  and,  as  plainly,  they 
take  some  reconciling,  and  have  to  be  so  denned  as  to  accord.  The 
artist — in  this  case  the  writer — is  reared  in  a  world  not  only  of  code 
and  custom  but  of  forms — a  stock  of  moulds,  technique,  phrases, 
words,  rhythms,  which  are  part  of  the  matter  that  is  given  him.  These, 
in  themselves,  are  paralysing.  If  he  is  merely  in  a  state  of  complacent 
harmony  with  them,  he  becomes  an  expounder  and  repeater,  and  he 
does  nothing.  He  must  therefore  be,  essentially,  '  inadapte/  and  defy 
them,  just  as  he  must  react  against,  and  upon,  the  prevalent  moral  or 
emotional  atmosphere,  if  he  is  ever  to  do  anything.  But  then  he  also 
depends  upon  these  same  conditions  for  his  nourishment ;  he  must  have 
'  de  qui  tenir.'  The  solutions  of  this  problem,  or  antinomy,  are  of  course 
infinite.  The  '  initiative/  or  reaction,  as  M.  Baldensperger  points  out, 
may  take  quite  opposite  shapes. 

Faut-il  rappeler  tant  de  nevroses  dont  la  litterature  a  recueilli  le  benefice,  tant 
de  degenerescences  converties  en  originalites,  et  la  these  qui,  en  consequence, 
a  confondu  la  superiority  intellectuelle  avec  1'exaltation  nevropathique... !  (pp. 
116—7). 

Rousseau,  Heine,  Leopardi  are  examples,  of  differing  kind.  England 
has  been  rich  in  such  children,  but  Anglo-Saxon  opinion  has  always 
censured,  or  deprecated,  or  apologised  for  them.  They  usually  imply, 
as  in  the  case  of  Swift,  some  revulsion  on  the  part  of  Nature  against 
an  excess  of  the  prosaic,  or  conventional,  or  purely  rational  element 
around  them.  But  the  revulsion  may  equally  well  be  in  the  other 
direction.  There  are  those  who  are  '  inadapt6s  par  trop  de  robustesse 
d'esprit/  in  a  flabby  or  sentimental  age.  M.  Baldensperger  cites  the 
authors  of  Hermann  and  Dorothea  and  of  La  Princesse  de  Cleves ;  and 
we  might  name  Jane  Austen,  keeping  her  head  among  the  sensation- 
mongers  of  her  youth.  But,  with  all  this,  in  what  sense  does  literature 
'  express  '  the  society  in  which  it  was  born  ?  Here,  again,  there  is  only 
room  to  point  to  some  of  M.  Baldensperger's  pages,  leaving  wholly  un- 


Reviews  391 

described  his  instructive  chapters  on  '  L'appel  a  1'etranger,'  '  Le  recours 
au  passe  national/  '  Le  succes,'  '  La  renomme'e.' 

Some  capital  fallacies  are  pinned  out  in  the  chapter  on  '  La  trans- 
formation des  idees  directrices.'  The  greatest  of  social  and  political 
changes  need  not  at  once  bring  about  a  corresponding  revolution  in 
letters.  Sometimes  those  changes  have  been  already  registered  (p.  85) 
in  art,  and  also  in  the  world  of  ideas,  and  this  very  registration  has 
propelled  a  material  upheaval,  as  in  the  leading  case  of  the  French 
Revolution.  But  often,  as  in  that  very  instance,  or  as  in  Germany  after 
1870,  or  in  Italy  about  1800,  literature,  instead  of  at  once  responding 
to  outward  changes,  has  gone  on  for  a  while  living  on  the  capital  of 
forms  and  feelings  bequeathed  from  the  age  before.  Yet  only  for  a  time ; 
for  the  '  idees  directrices '  tell  presently,  or  in  the  long  run ;  and  some 
striking  pages  (103 — 7)  trace,  in  large  outline,  the  ways  in  which  the 
complexion  of  literature  has  altered  in  obedience  to  successive  phases  of 
thought — Cartesian,  deistic,  revolutionary,  pantheistic,  and  pessimistic. 
Lastly,  the  chapter  on  '  Les  synthetismes  nationaux '  is  a  first-rate 
antidote  to  rash  theorising  about  racial  or  national  '  characteristics  '- 
the  most  fruitful  error  ever  exploited  by  politicians  or  literary  his- 
torians. '  Qui  est  I'Anglais  absolu  ? '  (p.  305).  All  the  definitions  either 
destroy  one  another,  or  overlook  the  destructive  exceptions.  It  would 
be  agreeable  to  enlarge  on  the  point,  or  to  canvass  at  length  some  of 
M.  Baldensperger's  theses,  but  to  do  so  would  require  a  whole  number 
of  this  Review.  His  book,  to  say  no  more,  has  remarkable  antiseptic 
qualities. 

OLIVER  ELTON. 

LIVERPOOL. 


Elizabethan  Rogues  and  Vagabonds.  By  FRANK  AYDELOTTE.  (Oxford 
Historical  and  Literary  Studies,  Vol.  I.)  Oxford :  Clarendon  Press. 
1913.  8vo.  xii  +  188pp. 

Mankind  has  always  taken  a  surreptitious  interest  in  the  ways  of  its 
rogues  and  vagabonds.  The  romance  of  their  lives  and  the  dexterity  of 
their  trades  have  compelled  our  attention  if  they  have  not  won  our 
admiration.  In  these  circumstances  it  is  the  more  remarkable  that  no 
one  before  Mr  Aydelotte  has  given  a  complete  history  of  their  habits 
and  devices  during  the  last  century  in  which  they  may  be  said  to  have 
practised  the  profession  in  the  'grand  style.'  C.  J.  Ribton-Turner 
published  in  1887  a  History  of  Vagrants  and  Vagrancy,  but  the  width 
of  his  scheme  only  enabled  him  to  devote  a  few  pages  to  the  rogue  of 
the  sixteenth  century.  Similarly  the  Elizabethan  rogue-pamphlets  have 
received  no  adequate  treatment,  though  Professor  F.  W.  Chandler 
mentions  most  of  them  in  his  Literature  of  Roguery.  We  are  in  need 
of  a  book  which  while  concentrating  upon  the  roguery  of  the  sixteenth 
century  will  combine  the  historical  aspect  with  the  literary,  and  so  give 
us  the  complete  picture.  This  need  Mr  Aydelotte's  book  meets,  for  it 


392  Reviews 

shows  us  the  rogue  not  only  as  he  appeared  to  Harman,  Greene  and 
Dekker,  but  also  as  he  appeared  to  the  Lord  Mayor,  Aldermen  and 
Councillors  of  London,  to  the  Privy  Council,  to  the  Justices  of  the  Peace 
throughout  the  country,  and  to  Parliament. 

Mr  Aydelotte's  admirable  account  of  the  Elizabethan  Rogues  and 
Vagabonds  is  based  on  much  reading  and  original  research.  The  mass 
of  available  material  is  enormous,  and  in  his  selection  of  the  material 
the  author  has  exercised  a  wise  discrimination.  There  are  one  or  two 
points  which  might  perhaps  have  received  some  development,  and  others 
which  need  some  qualification,  but  this  is  not  to-  subtract  from  the 
substantial  value  and  accuracy  of  his  work  as  a  whole. 

In  his  introductory  chapter  on  'The  Origins  of  Roguery'  Mr  Aydelotte 
attributes  the  great  increase  of  the  vagrant  class  in  the  sixteenth  century 
to  enclosures  and  the  conversion  of  arable  land  into  pasture.  In  so 
doing  he  agrees  with  most  modern  economists,  but  his  treatment  of  the 
subject  shows  no  acquaintance  with  the  more  recent  works  of  such 
writers  as  Leadam1,  Gay2,  and  Tawney3,  and  the  question  of  what 
exactly  '  enclosures '  were,  by  whom  and  in  what  counties  they  were 
chiefly  made,  or  of  the  credibility  of  the  contemporary  satires  of  such 
writers  as  Brink  low,  Crowley  and  Fish  receives  no  adequate  treatment. 
This  question  of  enclosures  is  as  important  in  a  study  of  the  origins  of 
cony-catching  as  of  begging.  Many  of  the  unfortunate  people  who  were 
turned  adrift  from  the  plough  sought  shelter  in  towns,  infesting  and 
enlarging  the  slums,  fostering  the  plague,  and  forming  a  section  of  the 
cony-catching  crew  who  lived  by  means  of  their  wits4.  This  latter 
aspect  Mr  Aydelotte  ignores,  but  it  is  an  important  one.  Hedged  in 
on  the  one  hand  by  Statutes  against  vagrancy,  on  the  other  by  Statutes 
against  overcrowding,  the  poor,  it  will  be  seen,  fell  between  two  stools, 
'  for  if  the  poor  being  thrust  out  of  their  houses  go  to  dwell  with  others, 
straight  we  catch  them  with  the  Statute  of  Inmates ;  if  they  wander 
abroad,  they  are  in  danger  of  the  Statute  of  the  poor  to  be 
whipped5.' 

Mr  Aydelotte  is  on  safer  ground  in  dealing  with  the  Arts  of  Begging 
and  Cony-Catching  and  with  the  Rogue-Pamphlets.  The  distinction 
between  a  beggar  and  a  cony-catcher  was  very  real  in  the  sixteenth  century. 
The  former  class  was  represented  by  the  wandering  beggar,  the  latter  by 
the  sharpers  who  haunt  all  large  towns  and  trade  upon  the  folly  of 
ignorant  people.  Roughly  speaking  the  great  representative  of  the 
former  class  is  Autolycus,  of  the  latter  Falstaif.  The  characteristic  which 
they  held  in  common  is  that  both  despised  honest  labour  and  preferred  to 
live  by  their  wits.  Their  motto  was  that  of  the  profligate  apprentice  in 

1  The  Domesday  of  Enclosures  (2  vols.,  1897). 

2  Trans.  Eoyal  Hist.  Soc.,  New  Series,  vol.  xiv  (1900).    Quarterly  Journal  of  Economics, 
vol.  xvn  (August,  1903). 

3  The  Agrarian  Problem  in  The  Sixteenth  Century  (1912). 

4  It  was  against  such  people  that  the  long  series  of  Statutes  and  Proclamations  against 
Inmates,  beginning  with  Elizabeth's  First  Housing  Act  in  1589  (31  Eliz.  c.  7),  were 
directed. 

5  D'Eices  Journal.     Speech  of  Cecil,  1597  (quoted  by  Tawney,  op.  cit.,  p.  279). 


Reviews  393 

Eastward  Ho  (n,  i) :  'he  that  has  wit,  let  him  live  by  his  wit ;  he  that 
has  none,  let  him  be  a  tradesman.' 

We  could  have  wished  that  Mr  Aydelotte  had  devoted  more  space 
to  a  consideration  of  the  Sanctuaries  of  Elizabethan  London.  He  comes 
to  the  conclusion  that  in  those  days  the  sanctuaries  were  not  especially 
the  haunts  of  rogues  and  cony-catchers,  and  did  not  secure  immunity 
from  arrest.  But  he  has  overlooked  a  document  which  tends  to  upset 
this  theory  and  which  incidentally  mentions  three  sanctuaries  which  had 
escaped  his  attention.  The  document  in  question  is  a  petition  of  the 
Lord  Mayor  and  citizens  of  London  for  an  examination  of  the  rights  of 
the  franchises  and  liberties  of  the  sites  of  the  lately  dissolved  monas- 
teries of  the  Blaqk  Friars,  White  Friars  and  Christ's  Church  near 
Aldgate1. 

Another  interesting  question  upon  which  this  book  sheds  no  light  is 
how  far  the  authorities  resorted  to  transportation  in  their  treatment  of 
rogues  and  vagabonds.  Such  treatment  was  so  delightfully  simple  that 
one  would  have  thought  that  it  would  have  commended  itself  to  the 
authorities.  In  September,  1603,  incorrigible  rogues  were  ordered  to  be 
transported  to  '  the  new  fownd  Land,  the  East  or  west  Endies,  ffrance, 
Germanie,  Spaine,  and  the  Low  Countries  or  any  of  them2,'  but  I  am 
not  aware  how  far  this  method  was  adopted  in  Elizabethan  times. 

There  is  only  space  to  indicate  briefly  the  new  light  which 
Mr  Aydelotte  has  thrown  upon  the  Rogue-Pamphlets  and  their  re- 
lation to  one  another.  He  has  dragged  from  an  undeserved  oblivion 
A  manifest  detection  of  the  moste  vyle  and  detestable  vse  of  Diceplay 
(1552  ?),  which  is  the  father  of  a  numerous  progeny  of  cony-catching 
pamphlets,  just  as  Awdeley's  Fraternitye  of  Vacabones  (1561)  and 
Barman's  Caueat  or  Warening  for  Commen  Cursetors  (1566)  are  the 
fathers  of  an  equally  numerous  progeny  of  beggar  pamphlets.  He  has 
exposed  the  plagiarising  proclivities  of  Greene,  Rowlands  and  Dekker 
more  thoroughly  than  any  of  his  predecessors,  and  he  has  proved  con- 
clusively that  the  author  of  Martin  Mark-all,  Beadle  of  Bridewell  was 
not  Samuel  Rowlands  but  Samuel  Rid.  Moreover,  he  has  substantiated 
the  authenticity  of  Harman's  work  by  giving  numerous  instances  of 
cases  in  which  the  names  of  rogues  and  vagabonds  mentioned  by  that 
worthy  occur  also  in  official  documents. 

It  remains  to  mention  that  this  volume  is  the  first  of  the  Oxford 
Historical  and  Literary  Studies  issued  under  the  direction  of  Professors 
C.  H.  Firth  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh.  It  would  surely  have  been  more 
convenient  for  the  majority  of  readers  if  the  title  of  the  book  had  been 
put  on  the  cover  as  well  as  the  name  of  the  author,  but  in  all  other 

1  Hist.  MSS.  Comm.,  Appendix  to  7th  Report,  Molyneux  MSS.,  p.  665  a — '  of  late  certen 
lycensius  people  geven  to  wicked  lyving  and  being  receptors  of  thyfes,  and  comeii  colorers 
of  stollen  goodes  besides  the  greate  repaire  of  lewde  and  wicked  weomen,  fugytives,  clippers, 
fylers  and  washers  of  the  quenes  highnes  coyne,  and  over  this  the  same  places  are  at  this 
present  tyme  the  comen  receiptacles  of  all  lewde  people  repayring  to  the  same  citie,  in 
which  places  offenders  bene  shrowded  as  in  sanctuaries,  affirming  that  no  maiestrate 
vnder  the  Quenes  highnes  hath  to  doe  with  them.' 

2  Add.  MS.  11,402  (in  the  British  Museum),  f.  91. 


M.  L.  R.  IX. 


26 


394  Reviews 

* 

respects  the  book  is  produced  in  a  manner  that  leaves  nothing  to  be 
desired.  It  should  be  added  that  illustrations  are  given  from  con- 
temporary woodcuts  and  from  etchings  by  Rembrandt  and  Callot,  all 
well  chosen  and  admirably  reproduced. 

F.  P.  WILSON. 
OXFORD. 


Spenser's  Shepherd's  Calender  in  relation  to  Contemporary  Affairs.  By 
JAMES  JACKSON  HIGGINSON.  (Columbia  University  Studies  in 
English  and  Comparative  Literature.)  New  York:  Columbia 
University  Press.  1912.  8vo.  xiv  +  364  pp. 

So  much  reading,  so  much  ingenious  speculation,  so  much  careful 
examination  of  other  people's  theories  have  gone  to  the  making  of  this 
book,  that  one  is  disappointed  to  lay  it  down  with  the  feeling  that  the 
positive  results  attained  have  been  but  small.  Perhaps  the  most  valuable 
part  is  the  introductory  portion  in  which  a  picture  is  drawn  of  the  state 
of  the  English  Church  under  Elizabeth  and  the  aims  of  the  early 
Puritans.  The  account  is  drawn  from  many  sources  and  gives  the 
reader  the  right  atmosphere  for  the  understanding  of  Spenser's  point  of 
view. 

After  his  Introduction  Dr  Higginson  discusses  the  four  controversial 
Eclogues,  those  for  February,  May,  July  and  September.  All  these  he 
believes  to  have  been  written  at  Cambridge,  the  first  as  early  as  1573. 

In  the  apologue  of  the  Briar  and  the  Oak  in  the  February  Eclogue 
Mr  Higginson  would  see  a  reference  to  the  fall  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
through  the  supposed  machinations  of  Burleigh.  One  would  have 
thought  that  a  Duke  of  Norfolk  who  was  a  wooer  of  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots  would  not  appeal  to  the  sympathies  of  a  Puritan,  but  the  author 
does  a  good  deal  to  remove  this  objection.  It  is  difficult  however  to  see 
the  applicability  to  Burleigh  of  11.  119—123  and  11.  228—237.  Even  if 
it  was  supposed  in  1573  that  Burleigh  had  lost  the  Queen's  favour  in 
consequence  of  the  part  he  took  in  the  ruin  of  Norfolk,  one  can  hardly 
understand  Spenser's  printing  the  lines  in  1580  when  the  misconception 
had  become  apparent.  This  ingenious  speculation  then  must  be  pro- 
nounced not  proven. 

Piers  and  Palinode,  the  interlocutors  in  the  May  Eclogue,  are 
according  to  our  author,  Thomas  Preston  and  Andrew  Perne.  The  date 
of  the  Eclogue  is  given  as  1575-6.  The  story  of  the  Fox  and  the  Kid 
receives  a  double  interpretation.  Primarily,  the  Fox  represents  the 
Anglican  party  (Higginson  agrees  with  Herford  in  seeing  in  the  Eclogue 
a  satire  rather  on  the  English  Church  than  on  the  Church  of  Rome), 
the  Goat,  the  Primitive  Church,  the  he-goat  Christ,  the  Kid  the 
Puritans.  But  further  the  Fox  stands  for  Burleigh,  the  Goat  for  Lady 
Essex  and  the  Kid  for  her  son,  Robert,  Lord  Essex,  who  was  Burleigh's 
ward.  As  however  Essex's  father,  Walter,  the  first  earl,  was  alive  till 


Reviews  395 

September  1576,  it  becomes  necessary  to  suppose  that  Spenser  re- 
touched his  Eclogue  to  bring  in  this  second  allegory  about  1579. 

Mr  Higginson  advances  his  theory  with  becoming  diffidence,  and  it 
is  not  likely  to  be  treated  seriously.  It  bristles  with  difficulties  small 
and  great.  Burleigh's  relations  to  a  ward  and  to  his  ward's  mother  are 
hardly  likely  to  have  been  satirized  by  a  member  of  the  University  of 
which  he  was  Chancellor. 

In  his  interpretation  of  the  July  Eclogue,  Mr  Higginson  agrees  with 
previous  critics  that  Morell  is  Aylmer  and  Algrind  Grindal.  Of  the 
interlocutors  he  would  take  Thomalin  to  stand  for  a  Puritan  Thomas 
Wilcox  (Cartwright  being  at  this  time  abroad),  while  Palinode,  being 
Thomalin's  friend,  cannot  be  Dr  Perne,  for  whom  Palinode  stood  in  the 
May  Eclogue. 

In  the  September  Eclogue,  the  author  refuses  to  accept  Grosart's 
theory  that  Koffy  is  Bishop  Young  of  Rochester,  the  late  Master  of 
Spenser's  college,  Pembroke  Hall,  and  that  Lowder  is  Lloyd,  Chancellor 
of  the  Rochester  diocese.  (Incidentally  he  confuses  John  Young, 
Master  of  Pembroke  Hall  1553-1559,  and  his  namesake  Master  1567- 
1578.)  He  points  out  that  'Raffy'  was  already  a  shepherd-name  in 
Marot,  and  holds  that  this  sufficiently  accounts  for  '  Roffy.'  For  his  own 
interpretation  he  has  recourse  to  an  obscure  quarrel  between  Bishop 
Cox  of  Ely  (=  Roffy),  his  brother-in-law,  Auder  (Lowder),  and  Lord  North 
of  Kirtling  (the  Wolf).  The  last  identification  is  bold,  as  Mr  Higginson 
himself  shows  that  Lord  North  was  brother-in-law  and  a  close  friend  of 
Lord  Leicester.  Probably  all  this  ingenuity  would  have  been  spared  if 
Mr  Higginson  had  been  aware  of  the  inscription  in  Gabriel  Harvey's 
hand  in  a  book  now  belonging  to  Professor  Gollancz:  'Ex  dono  Edmundi 
Spenserij,  Episcopi  Roffensis  Secretary.  15781.' 

In  Diggon  Davie,  one  of  the  interlocutors  in  the  Eclogue,  Mr  Higginson 
would  see  Richard  Greenham,  rector  of  Dry  Drayton,  Cambs. 

In  the  November  dirge  the  author  inclines  to  Malone's  theory  that 
Dido  stands  for  an  illegitimate  daughter  of  Leicester  (Lobbin)  by 
Douglas,  Lady  Sheffield.  He  supports  the  case  by  some  strange 
arguments,  e.g.  that  Lady  Sheffield  was  deserted  like  Dido,  and  that 
she  lived  at  Sheen  and  Spenser  speaks  of  his  Dido  as  'the  great 
shephearde  his  daughter  shene.'  He  shows  however  that  the  only 
statement  for  the  existence  of  such  a  daughter  of  Leicester's  is  con- 
tained in  the  libellous  Leicester's  Commonwealth  (1584),  and  if  she 
existed  we  know  nothing  at  all  of  the  date  of  her  death. 

As  against  the  theory  put  forward  in  the  Modern  Language  Review, 
vol.  n,  p.  346  (July  1907),  and,  as  Mr  Higginson  shows,  suggested  a  year 
earlier  by  Mr  P.  M.  Buck,  jr,  in  Modern  Language  Notes,  xxi,  p.  80, 
that  Dido  was  Ambrosia  Sidney,  Mr  Higginson  very  reasonably  argues 
that  in  this  case  we  should  expect  the  poet's  condolence  to  be  offered 
rather  to  Philip  Sidney,  her  brother,  than  to  Leicester,  her  uncle. 
When  however  he  says  that  '  another  reason  [for  the  theory] — thp  con- 

1  Gabriel  Harvey's  Marginalia,  p.  173,  1.  18. 

26—2 


396  Reviews 

jectured  closeness  of  the  bond  between  Philip  and  his  sister  Ambrosia 
on  the  score  of  the  nearness  of  their  ages — must  be  thrown  out  of  court, 
for  Ambrosia  was  six  years  the  younger '  he  is  making  an  assertion  for 
which  he  has  no  justification.  He  writes  (p.  236,  note) :  '  Mr  Smith 
makes  the  mistake  of  supposing  that  Ambrosia  Sidney  was  born  in 
1555.  A  reference  to  the  State  Papers  disproves  this  assertion  (CaL 
State  Papers  Foreign,  1560,  p.  350),  for  Ambrosia  was  born  at  Hampton 
Court  early  in  October  1560  and  enjoyed  the  honor  of  having  Queen 
Elizabeth  for  god-mother.'  This  note  is  not  exactly  ingenuous.  The 
State  Papers  do  not  give  the  name  of  the  daughter  born  to  Lady  Sidney 
in  Oct.  1560, — presumably  as  the  Queen's  god-daughter  she  was  called 
Elizabeth.  On  the  other  hand  when  Ambrosia  Sidney  was  buried  at 
Ludlow  in  February  1574/5  she  was  described,  as  stated  in  the  Modern 
Language  Review,  loc.  cit.,  as  '  nearly  twenty  years  old/  Whether  she 
is  Dido  is  a  different  question :  at  any  rate  she  was  less  than  a  year 
younger  than  her  brother  Philip,  who  must  doubtless  have  felt  her  loss 
very  deeply. 

The  attempt  to  ascertain  the  course  of  Spenser's  life  between  the 
year  1576,  when  he  took  his  M.A.  degree,  and  the  year  1579,  when  we 
find  him  in  the  employment  of  Lord  Leicester,  is  of  course  greatly 
affected  by  Mr  Higginson's  ignorance  of  the  fact  that  in  1578  he  was 
Secretary  to  Bishop  Young  of  Rochester.  This  fact  at  once  explains 
E.  K.'s  gloss  on  the  June  Eclogue  :  '  The  Dales  (1.  21).  The  Southpartes, 
where  he  now  abydeth,  which  thoughe  they  be  full  of  hylles  and  woodes 
(for  Kent  is  very  hyllye  and  woodye...)  yet  in  respecte  of  the  North  - 
partes  they  may  be  called  dales.  For  indede  the  North  is  counted  the 
higher  countrye.'  Here  Dr  Higginson  is  obstinate  enough  to  maintain 
that  'Kirke  merely  selects  Kent  as  typical  of  the  [South  partes]  and... 
does  not  state  that  Spenser  dwelt  in  Kent '  (p.  296). 

In  the  light  of  our  new  knowledge,  we  shall  probably  see  Spenser's 
relation  to  Bishop  Young  alluded  to  in  '  the  Sou  them  e  shepheardes  boy  * 
(April,  1.  21) — on  which  E.  K.  writes:  'Seemeth  hereby  that  Colin 
perteyneth  to  some  Southern  noble  man,  and  perhaps  in  Surrye  or 
Kent ' ;  and  we  shall  find  a  similar  allusion  to  the  Bishop  in  the  last  of 
Harvey's  Three  Letters:  'Imagin  me  to  come  into  a  goodly  Kentishe 
Garden  of  your  old  Lords,  or  some  other  Noble  man '  (quoted  p.  320r 
and  taken  as  implying  that  Spenser  had  now  lost  his  employment  with 
Leicester).  We  shall  understand  Spenser's  reference  to  the  'salt 
Medway '  (July,  1.  79)  and  his  stanzas  on  the  marriage  of  the  Thames 
and  Medway  (F.  Q.  IV,  xi)  if  he  lived  for  a  time  at  Rochester.  Again, 
if  Spenser  was  in  Young's  service,  and  not  Leicester's,  at  the  time  he 
praised  Grindal,  the  difficulty  mentioned  by  Higginson  on  p.  306  receives 
some  explanation.  In  Mr  Higginson's  view  the  part  of  Spenser's  life 
between  1576  and  his  entering  Leicester's  service  was  spent  in  or  near 
Cambridge,  though  why  he  should  be  there  after  he  had  taken  his 
M.A.  degree  is  not  shown.  When  Hobbinol  (June,  1.  19)  addresses  Colin 
Clout,  '  Leave  me  those  hilles  where  harbrough  nis  to  see '  (E.  K.'s  gloss, 
'  that  is  in  the  North  countrye,  where  he  dwelt ').  we  must  understand 


Reviews  397 

that  Hobbinol — himself  at  Cambridge  or  Saffron  Walden, — is  urging 
Spenser  to  leave  Cambridge,  poetically  identified  with  the  Gogmagogs, 
and  resort  to  London.  But  now  that  we  know  that  the  employment  he 
found  was  with  the  Bishop  of  Rochester,  it  becomes  impossible  to  suppose 
that  Cambridge  stands  for  the  '  Northpartes,'  in  respect  of  which  the 
*  Southpartes '  '  be  called  dales.'  What  Englishman,  especially  what 
Cambridge  man,  ever  thought  of  Cambridge  as  in  the  North,  or  as  more 
hilly  than  Kent  ?  Mr  Higginson  has  indeed  found  two  cases  of  Norfolk 
being  spoken  of  as  the  North,  but  even  Norfolk  is  not  Cambridge :  and 
in  this  eclogue  the  contrast  is  not  merely  between  North  and  South, 
but  between  hills  and  dales. 

Mr  Higginson,  following  Long,  argues  strongly  against  our  attaching 
importance  to  Grosart's  locating  of  Spenser  during  his  courtship  of 
Rosalind  in  North- West  Lancashire :  and  I  think  we  may  so  far  agree 
with  the  critic.  But  that  Spenser  was  somewhere  in  the  North  and 
not  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Cambridge  seems  to  me  the  natural  con- 
clusion from  the  evidence.  We  know  that  Harvey  was  in  York  in 
August  15761,  a  month  after  Spenser  took  his  M.A.  degree,  and  I  cannot 
help  connecting  this  journey  with  that  which  Spenser  presumably  made 
just  at  this  time. 

From  Harvey's  reference  in  the  last  of  his  three  letters  (23  April, 
1580)  to  'gentle  Mistresse  Rosalinde'  who  'once  reported  [Spenser]  to 
have  all  the  Intelligences  at  commaundement,  and  an  other  time, 
Christened  her  Segnior  Pegaso,'  we  should  naturally  conclude  that 
Harvey  had  himself  met  '  Rosalind.'  If  Harvey  travelled  North  with 
.Spenser,  we  can  see  that  he  might  have  done  so,  even  though  '  Rosalind's ' 
home  was  in  the  North. 

According  to  our  author  Rosalind  is  neither  Grosart's  '  Rose  Dineley ' 
nor  P.  W.  Long's  '  Elizabeth  North,'  but  a  lady  of  high  position  for 
whom  Spenser  had  a  merely  conventional  passion.  He  quotes  Long's 
remark  that  '  Rosalind '  would  be  a  passable  anagram  for  '  Clorinda,'  the 
name  by  which  Mary  Sidney  signed  her  lament  for  her  brother.  We 
are  now  dealing  however  with  a  time  when  Mary  Sidney  was  only 
twenty-one  or  twenty-two.  Mr  Higginson  himself  does  not  think  that 
E.  K.'s  words  are  to  be  taken  as  meaning  that  Rosalind  is  an  anagram 
on  the  lady's  real  name. 

Mr  Higginson's  treatment  of  Spenser's  relation  to  Sidney  and  of  the 
question  of  the  existence  of  an  '  Areopagus '  or  literary  Academy  appears 
to  be  very  sound.  He  points  out  that  the  Shepherd's  Calender  cannot 
be  taken  as  a  manifesto  of  any  views  held  in  common  by  Spenser  and 
Sidney,  though  he  thinks  that  in  his  later  works  Spenser  approximated 
to  Sidney's  views.  When  however,  Mr  Higginson  says  (p.  258)  that  all 
the  information  which  is  supposed  to  vouch  for  the  existence  of  an 
Areopagus,  '  is  agreed  to  lie  solely  in  the  five  Harvey-Spenser  letters '  of 
1579-80,  he  seems  to  overlook  Giordano  Bruno's  account  of  meetings  in 
London  (c.  1584)  in  which  Philip  Sidney,  Fulke  Greville  and  Dyer  took 

1  Gabriel  Harvey's  Marginalia,  pp.  16,  174,  1.  29. 


398  Reviews 

part.  '  We  met/  he  says,  '  in  a  chamber  in  the  house  of  Sir  Fulk 
Greville...to  discuss  moral,  metaphysical,  mathematical  and  natural 
speculations1.' 

Mr  Higginson  (p.  164)  takes  'Wrenock'  to  stand  for  'Pembroke 
Hall.'  This  we  cannot  accept. 

The  book  has  a  few  slips,  as  'lodicus'  (p.  178)  for  'lodocus/ 
'  Stersichorus '  (p.  203)  for  '  Stesichorus,'  'Penhurst'  (p.  296)  for 
'  Penshurst/  '  Gratulationis  Valdinensis '  (p.  300)  and  '  Gratulationes 
Valdenses '  (p.  303)  for '  Gratulationes  Valdinenses.'  The  word  '  demise  ' 
(p.  132)  is  used  for  'decease/  'advocation'  (pp.  116,  268,  281)  for 
'  advocacy/  and  '  reformations '  (p.  280)  for  '  reforms.'  There  is  nothing 
however  to  detract  from  the  recognition  due  to  the  author  for  a  work 
abounding  in  knowledge  of  facts  and  in  ingenious  speculations.  That 
all  these  speculations  should  commend  themselves  to  other  minds,  even 
Mr  Higginson  would  hardly  expect. 

G.  C.  MOORE  SMITH. 

SHEFFIELD. 


A   History  of  American  Literature.     By  WILLIAM  B.  CAIRNS.     New 
York  :  Oxford  University  Press.     1912.     8vo.     vii  +  502  pp. 

We  have  so  long  been  accustomed  to  hear  Americans  talk  of  them- 
selves as  a  young  people,  and  to  find  ourselves  expected  to  pass  lenient 
judgment  on  the  exuberance  of  youth,  that  we  are  apt  to  forget  that  an 
older  civilization  lies  behind  the  United  States,  and  that  the  bonds  with 
the  mother  country  were  numerous  and  close-knit.  '  The  first  book 
written  in  America  (Captain  John  Smith's  account  of  Virginia)  was 
published  three  years  before  the  King  James  version  of  the  Bible,  four 
years  before  any  of  Bacon's  Essays  took  their  final  form,  and  a  generation 
before  the  religious  and  political  writings  of  Jeremy  Taylor  and  Milton/ 
The  first  book  printed  in  America  (the  Bay  Psalm  Book)  was  published 
in  1640.  These  two  classes  of  books — travel  and  theology — cover  most 
of  the  literature  produced  during  the  first  century  or  so  of  American 
development.  Explorers  write  accounts  of  their  adventures — interesting 
enough  but  with  scant  literary  pretensions — and  Pilgrim  Fathers  lose 
themselves  in  the  sandy  desert  of  theological  controversy.  Cotton 
Mather  is  said  to  have  produced  over  388  works  including  An  Essay 
upon  the  Good  that  is  to  be  Devised  and  Designed ;  Sermons  occasioned  by 
remarkable  Thunder- Storms ;  Pillars  of  Salt :  An  History  of  Criminals 
executed',  etc.,  etc.  Profitable  reading  no  doubt,  and  edifying  to  the 
stern  New  Englander  of  the  early  eighteenth  century,  but  matter  for 
the  historian  of  literature,  rather  than  for  the  reader  of  to-day.  The 
names  of  Benjamin  Franklin  and  Alexander  Hamilton  are  as  well  known 
on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  as  on  the  other,  but  less  as  men  of  letters 
than  as  men  of  action;  it  would  probably  be  hard  to  find  many  Englishmen 

1  I.  Frith,  Life  of  G.  Bruno,  p.  128. 


Reviews  399 

who  had  so  much  as  a  bowing  acquaintance  with  Poor  Richard's 
Almanac  or  Hamilton's  essays  in  the  Federalist.  Not  until  1809  do  we 
come  to  the  first  of  a  group  of  names  familiar  to  every  reader  as  a 
matter  of  course — Washington  Irving,  James  Fenimore  Cooper,  Emerson, 
Thoreau,  Lowell,  Longfellow,  Hawthorne,  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  Poe, 
Walt  Whitman. 

Dr  Cairns  has  dealt  ably  with  the  vast  mass  of  material  at  his 
disposal.  With  remarkable  skill  he  has  contrived  to  give  some  im- 
pression of  the  personality  of  each  of  the  more  important  authors 
mentioned  and  not  infrequently  to  suggest  the  literary  and  political 
atmosphere  of  the  time.  His  thumb-nail  sketch  of  Franklin,  for 
example,  is  admirable.  The  fairness  and  open-mindedness  of  his  criticisms 
are  incontestable,  and  while  we  may  regret  his  cursory  dismissal  of  that 
delicate  and  fanciful  genius  Theodore  Winthrop,  such  instances  are  very 
few,  and  are  doubtless  accounted  for  by  the  truth  of  the  final  comment : 
'Few  persons  now  read  his  works.'  It  is  not  only  difficult,  it  is  im- 
possible to  make  a  book  of  this  sort  anything  more  than  a  mine  of 
information  in  which  the  student  may  find  much  useful  knowledge. 
Nothing  could  weld  such  an  enorrhous  number  of  condensed  biographies 
and  critical  essays  into  a  work  of  art,  but  the  sanity  of  Dr  Cairns's 
judgment  and  the  flashes  of  humour  which  lighten  his  pages  from  time 
to  time  raise  his  work  far  above  the  level  of  the  ordinary  reference 
book.  The  account  of  Alcott  at  'Fruitlands'  (p.  243)  occupies  only 
a  few  lines,  but  is  irresistible :  '  No  animal  products  were  to  be  eaten, 
and  the  soil  was  not  to  be  insulted  by  the  admixture  of  manures  of 
animal  origin.  The  rights  of  worms  and  insects  were  to  be  respected. 
No  vegetables  were  to  be  eaten  which,  like  the  potato,  grew  downward 
instead  of  aspiring.'  It  must  have  been  a  hungry  life.  Sometimes, 
indeed,  Dr  Cairns's  humour  leads  him  into  quotation  which  presses 
perhaps  a  little  unduly  on  the  author  in  question.  It  is  consoling  for 
a  young  poet  to  reflect  that  Emerson  wrote  such  lines  as 

Erect  as  a  sunbeam 

Upspringeth  the  palm  ; 
The  elephant  browses, 

Undaunted  and  calm, 

but  when  there  is  such  limited  space  in  which  to  discuss  Emerson's  work 
as  a  whole,  the  quotation  tends  to  over-emphasize  a  weakness.  The 
same  is  true  of  the  quotations  from  Walt  Whitman.  Dr  Cairns  does 
him  ample  justice  in  the  text,  but  finds  no  room  for  any  passage  from 
his  finer  works,  only  for  instances  of  deliberate  defiance — interesting 
and  valuable  in  themselves,  but  needing  some  qualification. 

The  wise  determination  to  confine  himself  to  authors  no  longer 
living,  keeps  Dr  Cairns  from  more  than  the  briefest  mention  of  certain 
interesting  developments  of  modern  American  literature — the  short 
story  as  treated  by  Miss  Mary  Wilkins,  for  instance,  or  the  wit  and 
wisdom  of  '  Mr  Dooley.'  Of  American  humour  as  a  whole  he  writes 
wisely  and  convincingly.  The  criticism  of  Mark  Twain  is  one  of  the 
best  things  in  the  book:  '  He  took  the  so-called  "American  humor"- 


400  Reviews 

the  humor  of  excessive  statement  and  juxtaposition  of  irrelevant  ideas 
— and  showed  that  in  the  hands  of  a  literary  artist  it  was  a  form  worthy 
of  respect.  But  in  essentials  his  relations  are  always  with  Artemus 

Ward  rather  than  with  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes If  Mark  Twain  was 

taken  too  lightly  at  first,  he  was  taken  seriously,  perhaps  too  seriously, 
in  his  later  years.  Readers  who  discovered  that  he  was  something  more 
than  a  newspaper  joker  began  to  hail  him  as  a  philosopher,  and  he 
himself  undertook  to  express  opinions  on  a  variety  of  subjects  ranging 
from  foreign  missions  to  politics.'  In  speaking  of  Hawthorne  he  dis- 
criminates sharply  between  the  moralist  and  the  psychologist :  '  His 
recurrence  to  the  thought  of  sin  in  the  world  seems  at  first  sight  a 
Puritan  characteristic,  but  he  was  concerned  not  with  forgiveness  and 
salvation  in  the  theologian's  sense,  but  with  the  effects  of  sin  on  the 
soul.'  There  is  nothing  very  profound  in  this,  but  it  hits  the  nail  on 
the  head  with  perfect  precision,  and  the  faculty  for  so  doing  marks 
Dr  Cairns's  work  throughout. 

In  dealing  with  the  literature  of  half  a  continent  the  difficulties  of 
classification  and  grouping  are  necessarily  great.  The  method  taken  in 
this  volume,  of  geographical  grouping,  undoubtedly  makes  for  clearness, 
and  has  the  additional  interest  of  enabling  the  reader  to  grasp  some- 
thing of  those  distinctions  of  thought  and  feeling  which  mark,  what 
one  is  tempted  to  call  the  various  nationalities  of  the  United  States. 
North,  South,  East,  West,  Middle  States,  all  have  contributed  something 
to  that  complex  product  which  we  call  American  literature,  and  there  is 
real  value  in  the  endeavour  to  trace  the  various  lines  of  development. 
Dr  Cairns  is  to  be  congratulated  on  the  thoroughness  with  which  he 
has  achieved  his  task.  It  would  be  of  great  interest  if  some  day  he 
would  use  his  material  in  less  condensed  form  and  would  develop  some 
of  the  many  subjects  which  are  suggested  in  this  present  volume. 

G.  E.  HADOW. 

ClRENCESTEB. 


Old  English  Riddles.     Edited  by  A.  J.  WYATT.     (Belles  Lettres  Series.) 
Boston,  U.S.A.,  and  London:  Heath.     1912.    12mo.    xxxix  +  193  pp. 

Mr  Wyatt's  volume  does  not  attempt  to  compete  with  the  illuminating 
edition  of  the  Riddles  by  which  Professor  Tupper  earned  the  gratitude 
of  students  of  Old  English.  It  is  evidently  intended  for  undergraduates 
in  the  second  or  third  year  of  Old  English  work,  or  for  general  readers 
whose  knowledge  of  the  language  is  respectable  but  not  advanced ;  and 
it  meets  the  needs  of  this  audience  better  than  any  other  edition. 
Occasionally,  it  is  true,  Mr  Wyatt's  instinct  as  a  teacher  fails  him.  In 
discussing  the  gender  of  the  unknown  solution  (Introduction,  section  viii) 
he  makes  out  a  case  against  the  '  extreme  position '  of  Cosijn  and 
Trautmann ;  but  his  own  conclusion  is  vague,  and  he  does  not  indicate 
the  element  of  truth  in  the  theory  which  he  rejects.  On  p.  xiv,  his 


Reviews  401 

statement  that  Ebert  '  found '  that  Aldhelm  borrowed  from  Symphosms, 
and  the  Exeter  Book  riddler  from  Tatwine  and  Eusebius,  may  cause 
misunderstanding,  in  spite  of  the  general  warning  against  Ebert's 
inaccuracy.  It  is  not  until  pp.  xix,  xx,  that  the  facts  are  correctly 
stated.  Above  all,  it  is  regrettable  that  an  edition  of  this  kind  should 
give  no  systematic  account  of  the  literary  worth  of  the  riddles.  In 
section  ix,  on  '  Style,'  Mr  Wyatt  gives  one  small  page  of  original  comment 
and  one  of  quoted  general  appreciation;  and  in  section  iv  ('Classi- 
fication '),  he  distinguishes  between  the  learned  and  the  popular  elements. 
That  is  all — a  meagre  total.  The  omission  of  introductory  comment  on 
the  riddle  as  a  general  literary  type,  and  on  analogues  of  the  Old 
English  riddles,  is  less  serious ;  here  the  student  can  turn  to  Professor 
Tupper's  edition,  which  from  this  point  of  view  is  excellent. 

With  these  reservations,  Mr  Wyatt's  work  deserves  warm  praise. 
Perhaps  no  other  O.E.  text  offers  such  temptations  to  rash*  ingenuity, 
but  Mr  Wyatt  has  resisted  them  resolutely.  The  text  is  sound  and 
wisely  cautious, '  doubtful  emendations  being  kept  to  footnotes.  The 
notes,  similarly,  are  really  helpful  and  not  too  elaborate.  Especially 
satisfactory  is  Mr  Wyatt's  undogmatic  attitude  about  solutions:  'My 
chief  concern  is  to  put  the  student,  as  far  as  space  permits,  in  a  position 
to  decide  for  himself  (p.  89).  Only  one  definitely  new  solution  is 
offered:  'helmet/  for  no.  61,  instead  of  'shirt'  suggested  by  Dietrich 
and  supported  by  Tupper,  and  '  coat  of  mail '  suggested  by  Trautmann. 
I  share  Mr  Wyatt's  view  that  a  man's  head-covering  is  intended  (it  need 
not  be  a  helmet);  to  his  arguments  may  be  added  that  this  solu- 
tion agrees  better  than  either  of  the  others  with  the  suggestion  for 
which  this  double  entendre  riddle  is  really  constructed.  His  slight 
modifications  of  other  solutions  are  all  suggestive :  no.  24,  '  Magpie ' 
(=  higora)  instead  of  ' jay ' ;  no.  52,  '  two  buckets  in  a  wrell '  adding  the 
defining  phrase ;  no.  70, '  iron  (ore) '  instead  of  '  iron  helmet '  or  '  dagger '; 
no.  118,  'ore,  metal,  money'  instead  of  'gold';  no.  90,  'Hoc'  (with 
double  sense  of  'book'  and  'beech')  instead  of  'beech.' 

The  Introduction  offers  little  that  is  new,  but  gives  a  lucid  summary 
of  current  opinions  on  the  chief  problems  of  the  Riddles.  The  short 
account  of  the  Latin  riddles  (Section  ii)  is  just  and  admirably  concise, 
and  their  influence  on  the  O.E.  riddles  is  indicated  in  a  very  convenient 
summary  (p.  xx).  Section  iii  deals  fully  with  '  the  quondam  first  riddle.' 
In  the  course  of  an  excellent  review  of  the  chief  articles  on  this  difficult 
and  fascinating  poem,  Mr  Wyatt  allows  his  own  opinion  to  appear :  '  It 
seems  that  Bradley's  view  is  the  right  one  in  essentials:  the  poem  is 
the  monologue  of  a  woman  bewailing  her  absent  lover  who  is  in  danger. 
Whether  it  may  be  assigned  to  a  Teutonic  legend,  and  if  so  to  which, 
there  seems  to  be  as  yet  no  sufficient  evidence  to  show.'  Some  new 
arguments  are  given  in  refutation  of  Professor  Tupper's  attempt  to 
revive  the  theory  that  the  poem  is  a  cryptogram  to  which  the  solution 
is  '  Cynewulf.'  Mr  Wyatt  shows  that  the  alleged  evidence  in  support  of 
this  view  is  gained  at  the  cost  of  violence  both  to  forms  and  to  meanings 
of  words,  and  of  most  arbitrary  use  of  the  suggested  parallelism  in 


402  Reviews 

method  with  the  Icelandic  rimur.  This  section  is  over-long  for  the 
general  scale  of  the  introduction,  but  it  justifies  itself  as  a  valuable 
object-lesson  in  the  weighing  of  evidence. 

With  regard  to  the  authorship  of  the  riddles,  Mr  Wyatt  once  more 
walks  safely  in  the  middle  path :  '  Cynewulf  may  have  written  some  of 
them/  but  '  the  plain  fact  is  that  there  is  not  a  particle  of  evidence  for 
assigning  one  single  riddle  to  him  or  to  any  other  nameable  person.' 
So  with  regard  to  unity  of  authorship  and  date :  '  With  the  assumption 
of  one  poet  and  a  necessarily  eighth-century  collection  of  his  works 
I  cannot  agree.  Just  as  the  Codex  .itself  is  a  collection,  so  I  think  it 
must  be  regarded  as  a  possibility  that  the  compiler  of  the  Codex,  whose 
date  is  quite  uncertain,  drew  from  more  than  one  smaller  collection 
of  riddles.  But  it  is  probable  that  the  great  majority  of  the  riddles 
were  first  written  down  in  the  great  century  of  O.E.  poetry,  which  was 
also  that  of  our  riddlers  in  Latin,  with  the  exception  of  Aldhelm.' 
General  statement  of  this  kind  is  probably  the  best  for  Mr  Wyatt's 
immediate  purpose ;  but  it  may  be  permissible  to  express  the  hope 
that  in  due  place  and  season  Mr  Wyatt  will  marshal  the  new  evidence 
which  his  wide  and  careful  labours  must  surely  have  unearthed.  Facts 
are  so  much  needed  in  this  matter  where  now  discussion  turns  constantly 
on  mere  impressions  and  opinions.  Madert's  valuable  dissertation 
showed  what  results  could  be  gained  by  work  on  phonology  and 
inflections  and  syntax ;  but  it  might  still  be  supplemented.  Work  is 
needed,  too,  on  vocabulary,  style  (we  have  had  general  impressions  in 
plenty,  but  no  careful  analysis  and  comparison  of  the  word-groupings  of 
the  riddles),  metre,  and  arrangement,  not  with  regard  merely  to  opening 
and  closing  formulas,  but  to  the  general  construction  of  each  riddle. 

There  are  a  few  misprints  and  slips :  p.  xxi,  1.  7,  for  '  cymeS '  read 
'  cymeS  ' ;  p.  xxxvi,  1.  21,  for  '  his '  read  '  hio ' ;  p.  77,  1.  29,  for  'Hickelier' 
read  '  Hicketier ' ;  p.  128, 1.  11,  for  '  ie '  read  '  ic ' ;  p.  167,  1.  10,  for  '  hofer ' 
read  'ofer.'  The  verse  is  wrongly  divided  in  no.  79,  1.  4.  Hicketier's 
argument  on  the  runes  of  no.  64  is  certainly  far-sought,  but  the  ironic 
footnote,  'This  intimate  knowledge  of  the  Englishman  of  the  eighth 
century  fills  me  with  envy,'  reads  awkwardly  after  the  praise  of  another 
scholar  on  p.  xiv :  '  By  an  effort  of  sympathetic  imagination  Dietrich 
enabled  himself  to  see  and  think  with  the  eyes  and  mind  of  an  eighth- 
century  Englishman.'  But  these  are  trifles:  Mr  Wyatt's  book  should 
certainly  find  a  wide  audience,  as  the  most  convenient  edition,  for  class 
use,  of  material  which  should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  student  of  Old 
English  literature. 

A.  R.  SKEMP. 
BRISTOL. 


Reviews  403 


Patience,  An  Alliterative  Version  of  Jonah.  (Select  Early  English 
Poems,  vin.)  Edited  by  I.  GOLLANCZ.  London :  H.  Milford.  1913. 
4to.  x  +  60  pp. 

The  need  of  a  sound  edition  of  this  poem  has  long  been  felt ;  for  a 
more  widespread  study  of  Middle  English  has  rendered  the  work  of  a 
generation  ago  in  many  respects  out  of  date.  It  is  good  for  the  reputa- 
tion of  English  scholarship  that  this  need  has  been  met  by  Professor 
Gollancz ;  and  the  style  and  appearance  of  the  present  volume  establish 
an  excellent  precedent. 

The  Introduction  is  concise.  The  editor  has  something  new  and 
interesting  to  say  about  the  history  of  the  manuscript.  He  does  not 
quote  in  full  what  he  has  already  published  on  the  Alliterative  Poems  : 
but  he  gives  full  and  detailed  references  to  the  whole  literature  of  the 
subject. 

To  Professor  Gollancz  belongs  the  credit  of  detecting  the  quatrain 
arrangement  of  Cleanness  and  Patience.  It  is  no  disgrace  to  previous 
investigators  that  they  have  failed  to  observe  this  arrangement ;  for  the 
division-marking  in  the  manuscript  is  not  forced  upon  the  eye.  For 
example,  on  the  page  which  is  reproduced  in  this  edition,  it  is  by  no 
means  obvious ;  but  in  the  large  majority  of  cases,  it  is  sufficiently 
clearly  indicated — when  once  one's  attention  has  been  drawn  to  it. 

There  is  no  need  to  attempt  a  list  of  Professor  Gollancz'  valuable 
additions  to  our  knowledge  in  the  elucidation  of  the  text.  We  may 
perhaps  instance  his  explanations  of  Mergot,  Raguel,  tramme,  breed 
fysches',  his  interpretation  of  per  (1.  188),  of  by  sure  (1.  117),  of  lyknyng 
of  pewes  (1.  30),  of  him  wyth  —  '  compared  with  him  '  (1.  300) ;  his 
summing-up  of  the  hurrok  difficulty.  Better  than  impertinent  praise, 
will  be  a  frank  criticism  of  details,  and  students  who  have  realised  the 
difficulties  of  an  editor's  task  in  the  case  of  such  a  text  as  this  will  not 
mistake  such  criticism  for  condemnation1. 

11.  54-6.  Professor  Ker  has  pointed  out  that  although  the  N.E.D.  gives 
no  instance  so  early  of  make  =  '  constrain  '  with  ellipse  of  the  infinitive, 
the  meaning  of  '  cause  a  person  to  do '  is  old.  He  compares  Alex.  1747, 
'  Made  to  be  meke,  malegreve  his  chekis.'  '  Much,'  he  explains,  '  is 
here  an  elliptical  ejaculation,  apodosis  to  "  }if  he  ne  me  made,"  according 
to  a  common  idiom — as  for  instance :  "  Lucky  for  you,  if  you  get  off  with 
a  flogging!"  "  Good,  if  only  it  lasts!"'  Further,  he  has  drawn  atten- 
tion to  the  inaccuracy  of  Morris's  translation  of  bongre  (1.  57).  There  is, 
he  points  out,  no  instance  of  a  prepositional  use  of  this  word  :  bongre  is 
here  a  noun  absolute.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  Professor  Ker's  interpre- 
tation of  this  passage  has  not  been  adopted,  viz. :  '  Lucky  if  he  did  not 
make  me  (run  his  errand) ;  and  then  must  I  endure  rebuke,  and 
disfavour  for  my  guerdon,  when  I  might  have  bowed  to  his  bidding, 
with  his  good  favour  for  my  recompense.' 

1  For  many  of  the  interpretations  offered  here  I  am  indebted  to  Professor  Ker,  with 
whom  I  have  been  privileged  to  discuss  at  various  times  most  of  the  difficulties  in  this 
poem. 


404  Reviews 

104,  338.  Spak.  The  word  connotes  not  merely  speed  but  skill. 
The  meaning  '  smartly '  suits  all  the  cases  in  these  poems. 

Ibid.  Spare.  This  rare  word  occurs  three  times  in  these  poems, 
in  two  cases  with  uncertain  meaning.  Better  than  making  two 
separate  guesses,  will  be  to 'start  from  the  assumption  that  in  all  three 
places  the  word  is  the  same,  the  adjective  '  spare/  though  with  different 
shades  of  meaning.  In  Gawayne,  901,  though  the  translation  is  'moderate,' 
'  delicate,'  the  actual  meaning  is  the  primary  one,  '  scanty.'  I  would  give 
a  closely-akin  meaning  to  Patience,  338,  viz. '  bare.'  The  poet  has,  I  think, 
expanded  the  simple  'in  aridam'  of  .his  original  into  'upon  a  bare  strip 
of  dry  land.'  The  following  passage  suggested  to  me  by  Mr  P.  G.  Thomas 
seems  to  confirm  this  view,  viz.  Golagrus  and  Gawain,  1.  112,  '  sped 
hym  on  spedely  on  the  spare  mure.'  Patience,  104,  remains  still  unsolved ; 
but  I  hazard  '  taut  bow-line.'  A  closely  similar  idea  of  fitness,  good 
condition,  lack  of  flabbiness,  is  found  in  our  expression  'a  spare  and 
wiry  man.' 

116.  sotf.    Professor  Ker's  interpretation  'travelled'  (cp.  O.N.  soekja) 
makes  the  sense  clearer. 

117,  347.  lisse  is  not  'yes,'  'yea,'  but  'oh  yes/  Ger.  '  doch/  Fr.  'si.' 
122.     J?a3  [30]  be  stape  [in]  fole.     Emendation  of  he  is  unnecessary  : 

Professor   Ker   translates   '  any   one   of  you/   and   Zupitza's    stape-fol 
'<steap  +  fol  is  too  plausible  to  be  neglected. 

143,  472.  bush.  The  old  etymology  ought  not  to  be  dismissed 
without  comment. 

216.     ruyt  hym.     A  possible  derivation  is  O.Fr.  se  ruer. 

219.  Hef  and  hale  is  explained  by  Professor  Ker  as  an  ejaculation  : 
* "  Heave  and  haul  "  was  the  cry.' 

230.  luche.  I  incline  to  regard  this  as  a  '  ghost-word/  and  so  to 
emend  to  lanche. 

256.  warlow.  The  more  general  meaning  '  monster  '  is  found  several 
times  in  the  Destruction  of  Troy. 

259.  lyue.  The  meaning  '  live/  given  in  the  Glossary,  makes  the 
passage  difficult  of  translation  and  is  without  doubt  a  slip.  The  corn- 
fusion  of  leue  and  lyue  is  common  in  M.E. 

289.     hit  to  is  probably  not  '  betook  himself '  but  '  hit  upon.'     Cf. 
Destruction  of  Troy,  13495,  '  The  hauyn  j?at  he  hit  to.' 
.  292.     bulk.     The  N.E.D.  etymology  is  worth  recording. 

320.  man  needs  comment.  Does  it  mean  '  Sir/  cf.  renk  three  lines 
below  ;  or  shall  we  interpret  '  am  I  fallen,  a  mere  mortal '  ? 

350,  489.  lauce.  The  old  reading  lance  is  preferable.  Surely  in 
1.  350  the  metaphor  is  from  archery :  '  The  arrow  is  fitted  to  the  string. 
Speed  it  forth.' 

354.     On  =  '  only.'     Why  not  '  press  on '  ? 

375.  dymly.  The  editor  and  Professor  Ker  translate  'gloomily/ 
Matzner  and  Morris  '  secretly.'  I  suggest  tentatively  '  in  hazy  striving ' : 
cf.  Acts  xvii,  23,  'quod  ignorantes  colitis.' 

.      380.     hit  =  l struck/  'fell/  'flung  himself.'     Cf.   Gawayne,  427,  '  |?e 
fayre  hede  fro  }>e  halce  hit  to  ]>e  er]?e.' 


Reviews  405 

391.  There  is  a  misprint  of  soured  for  sowed  in  the  quotation  from 
Minot. 

435.  farandly.  The  meaning  'pleasantly' seems  to  be  better  sup- 
ported than  '  becomingly '  by  three  out  of  the  four  other  instances  in 
these  poems,  viz.  Pearl,  865,  Cleanness,  1785,  Gawayne,  101.  (The 
other  instance,  Cleanness,  607,  is  indecisive.) 

449.  lylled.  The  etymology  suggested  by  the  N.E.D.  is  not  well 
supported.  I  suggest  that  the  word  means  'hung  down,'  and  is  the 
variant  of  loll,  used  late  in  literature  (v.  N.E.D.)  of  a  dog's  tongue. 
Further  investigation  is  needed. 

451.  nos.  Professor  Gollancz  derives  unnecessarily,  I  think,  from 
O.N.  os,  an  inlet.  I  translate  either  '  porch  '  or  '  breathing-hole.'  The 
meaning  'projection'  is  attached  to  nosu  already  in  O.E.  Professor 
Ker  suggests  that  it  is  possibly  'an  usche,'  from  O.Fr.  uis,  'a  door/ 

454.  wype.  I  should  not  hesitate  to  emend  to  'webe.'i  Cf.  lyue, 
1.  259. 

493.     hot  lykker  to  rytf.     A  fuller  note  would  be  helpful. 

530.  for.  Professor  Ker's  interpretation,  '  in  spite  of,'  gives  the 
best  sense. 

One  would  like  to  see  more  notes  on  points  of  Syntax :  on  the 
Relative,  e.g.  11.  155  and  333 ;  on  Word-order,  e.g.  1.  351  ;  on  the  Verb 
'  to  be,'  e.g.  11.  201,  260  ;  on  the  Adverb,  e.g.  1.  243 ;  on  difficulties  such 
as  are  presented  by  11.  48,  202,  503.  A  few  readers,  possibly,  may 
despise  such  aid  :  the  majority  will  be  grateful  for  it.  There  are  some 
few  peculiarities  of  spelling  worthy  of  explanation  to  the  general 
reader,  e.g.  the  use  of  tz,  the  occurrence  of  gh  for  etymological  w.  Nor 
would  it  be  superfluous  to  draw  attention  to  the  frequent  use  of 
substantives  differing  nothing  in  form  from  adjectives,  e.g.  derk,  ronk, 
unsounde,  and,  probably,  drye.  In  the  case  of  rare  words  and  phrases, 
e.g.  runishly,  full  joynt,  maiigre  his  mun,  swete,  it  would  be  a  help  to  the 
student  to  give  parallels.  Morris's  quotations  illustrating  the  last  word 
are  worth  reprinting. 

We  shall  look  forward  with  pleasure  to  the  speedy  issue  of  the  other 
volumes  of  this  attractive  Anthology  of  Early  English  Poetry. 

J.  H.  G.  GRATTAN. 

LONDON. 


The .  Place-names  of  Nottinghamshire.  By  HEINRICH  MUTSCHMANN. 
(Cambridge  Archaeological  and  Ethnological  Series.)  Cambridge  : 
University  Press.  1913.  8vo.  xvi  +  l79pp. 

It  is  once  more  our  pleasant  task  to  review  a  book  on  English  place- 
names  by  one  of  Professor  Wyld's  pupils.  This  branch  of  philological 
studies  would  seem  to  be  '  booming,'  and  the  late  Canon  Taylor  would 
take  a  less  pessimistic  view  of  the  study  of  place-names  if  he  could  but 
see  the  rapidly  extending  row  of  books  on  the  subject.  Dr  Mutschmarm, 


406  Reviews 

whose  Phonology  of  the  North-eastern  Scotch  Dialect  shows  that  he  was 
competent  to  undertake  the  philological  investigation  of  place-names, 
has  in  this  book  treated  the  Nottinghamshire  names  in  much  the  same 
manner  as  that  in  which  Mr  Alexander  treated  the  names  of  Oxfordshire, 
on  the  lines  laid  down  by  Professor  Wyld  in  the  Place-Names  of 
Lancashire.  In  a  brief  Introduction  the  conditions  and  methods  of 
investigation  are  stated.  At  the  end  of  the  volume  there  is  a  summary 
of  exemplifications  of  phonological  laws  afforded  by  Nottinghamshire 
names,  lists  of  words  and  personal  names  forming  elements  of  the  place- 
names,  a  short  note  on  some  of  the  commoner  suffixes,  and  lastly,  a  list 
of  sources  and  books  consulted.  On  the  whole,  the  investigation 
appears  to  have  been  conducted  on  sound  lines.  Dr  Mutschmann  is 
clearly  strong  on  phonology  and  insists  on  accounting  for  every  letter 
and  sound-change.  Still,  even  in  this  field  he  does  not  make  everything 
quite  clear.  Thus,  for  example,  the  statement  that  the  change  from  d 
to  t  in  Attenborough  is  '  perhaps  due  to  dissimilation '  might  have  been 
amplified ;  also  the  statement  that  the  t  of  Bestwood  is  derived  from 
an  earlier  k  by  assimilation  is  intelligible  only  to  the  expert.  To  explain 
the  loss  of  r  from  Harplesthorp,  an  early  form  of  Appesthorpe  or 
Habblesthorpe,  by  the  formula  r-l-r  >  [~]-l-r  requires  a  rather  close 
acquaintance  with  Zachrisson's  Study  of  Anglo-Norman  Influence  on 
English  Place-Names.  The  fact  that  the  s  of  Basford  is  voiceless  in 
the  modern  local  pronunciation  is  no  proof  that  it  represents  O.E.  ss ; 
moreover  it  is  somewhat  rash  to  assume  on  the  evidence  of  a  single 
early  form  that  a  lengthening  of  a  (or  ce)  took  place  before  s(s)  in  early 
M.E.  Other  instances  are  required  to  support  this  assumption.  If,  as 
seems  the  case,  the  a  of  the  M.E.  form  Baseford  was  long,  we  have  to 
assume  an  O.E.  form  Basa  rather  than  Bassa,  that  is,  if  we  regard 
a  pers.  n.  as  the  original.  The  statement,  s.v.  Barton-in-Fabis,  that  the 
hypothetical  O.E.  word  *bcerllc,  the  ancestor  of  the  modern  'barley,' 
may  have  influenced  bere-tun,  changing  the  e  into  ce,  cannot  in  our 
opinion  be  admitted.  In  a  certain  number  of  instances  Dr  Mutschmann 
has,  we  think,  put  forward  very  fanciful  and  even  quite  inadmissible  ex- 
planations. Such  explanations  will  always  be  made  even  by  experienced 
philologists,  if  they  fail  to  take  into  account  the  prosaic,  matter-of-fact, 
practical  attitude  of  both  the  Anglo-Saxons  and  the  Scandinavian 
settlers  when  giving  names  to  the  places  where  they  lived.  It  would 
almost  seem  indeed  as  if  the  more  cautious  and  accurate  an  investigator 
is  in  matters  of  phonology,  the  more  uncritical  his  suggestions  of  origins 
are  likely  to  be.  .Take,  for  example,  the  suggestion  that  Awkley  may 
come  from  Ealce,  'a  mythological  person  or  deity.'  Here  Dr  Mutschmann 
has,  we  think,  been  led  astray  by  Middendorff.  A  more  prosaic  suggestion 
would  be  'the  lea  or  meadow  of  a  certain  Alca.'  The  derivation  of 
Averham  from  O.E.  cet  ceftrum,  '  at  the  waters,  streams/  we  find  difficult 
to  accept,  notwithstanding  Dr  Mutschmann's  ingenious  attempt  to 
explain  the  sound-changes  involved.  He  has  to  admit  that  O.E.  wdre 
does  not  occur  elsewhere  in  English  pi.  ns.  We  prefer  a  pers.  n., 
possibly  jElfgar,  and  either  O.E.  ham  'home,'  'farm,'  or  O.E.  hamm, 


Reviews  407 

'  meadow  by  river.'  We  do  not  think  that  Bathley  meant  '  the  lea  of 
the  bath,  the  meadow  containing  a  bathing-place/  and  the  reference  to 
Caesar's  mention  of  the  fondness  of  Germans  for  bathing  in  the  open 
leaves  us  cold.  Dr  Mutschmann's  second  suggestion,  the  pers.  n.  Bada, 
is  much  better.  Bestwood  is  certainly  not  'the  enclosed  wood  where 
deer  are  preserved';  the  earlier  forms  Besekwood,  Beskewood  require 
another  explanation.  It  is  highly  improbable  that  the  river-names 
Blyth  and  Idle  are  respectively  from  O.E.  blffie  'blithe,'  'calm,'  and 
O.E.  idel.  The  last-mentioned  word  has  the  meaning '  brilliant '  assigned 
to  it  by  Dr  Mutschmann  on  the  strength  of  its  connection  with  aWw. 
The  suggestion  that  Spalford  is  derived  from  O.E.  spald  '  saliva,'  '  foam ' 
and  means  '  the  foamy  ford  '  is  picturesque.  Cuckney  cannot  mean  '  at 
the  quick,  running  water  or  brook,'  as  the  O.E.  cwic  did  not  mean 
*  rapidly  moving '  but '  living,' '  alive.'  The  first  element  here  is  probably 
a  pers.  n.;  the  second  is  O.E.  eg,  'island.'  For  Harwell  Dr  Mutschmann 
offers  two  explanations,  (1)  'at  the  spring  or  brook  of  the  Danish  army,' 
(2)  '  the  fiercely  boiling  spring.'  Again  too  picturesque.  We  prefer  a 
pers.  n.,  possibly  Hereweald.  Next  comes  Lowdham,  for  which  after 
making  the  excellent  suggestion  Luda,  a  pers.  n.,  Dr  Mutschmann  goes 
on  to  suggest  O.E.  hlud,  '  loud,'  in  the  sense  of  '  stormy/  '  windy,'  com- 
paring the  ventose  of  the  French  revolutionary  calendar.  These  fanciful 
nights  invariably  require  so  much  illustration  by  far-fetched  parallels. 
Merrils  Bridge  does  not  mean  '  the  bridge  by  the  pleasant  slope,'  from 
O.E.  seo  myrige  helde;  it  means  'the  bridge  named  after  Mcerhild  or 
Merehild,'  a  woman.  This  is  shown  by  the  early  forms  Mirield,  Miriel. 
Similarly,  Mirfield  is  hardly  se  myrige  (rea,d,myriga)  feld  'the  pleasant 
plain,  or  field.'  Oldcoates  or  Ulcoates,  judging  by  the  early  forms, 
means  not  '  the  houses  of  the  owl/  but  '  the  cots  or  sheds  of  Ulf  or  Ulla.' 
Rufford  is  probably  named  after  a  man  named  Ruga,  and  does  not  mean 
'  the  rough  ford.' 

We  next  come  to  derivations  which,  though  not  fanciful,  are  in  our 
opinion  incorrect.  Kingston  is  the  pers.  n.  Cynestan  rather  than  '  the 
royal  stone.'  Kneeton  or  Kneveton  cannot,  judging  from  the  early 
forms,  come  from  O.E.  cnihta  tun,  '  the  farmstead  or  settlement  of  the 
servants.'  Dr  Mutschmann  bases  this  derivation  on  Knighton,  taken 
from  the  map  in  Camden's  Britain,  1695,  and  then  actually  attempts  to 
show  that  the  v  of  the  early  forms  Cheniveton,  1086,  Chnivetun,  1190, 
Knyveton,  1284,  and  Kenyveion,  1291  comes  from  an  earlier  hi  He 
takes  this  v  '  to  represent  the  faint  palatal  open  consonant  of  the  early 
M.E.  Knighton,  as  it  appeared  to  the  Normans  who  were  unfamiliar 
with  that  sound/  The  Norman  scribe  comes  off  rather  badly  in  this 
book;  but  he  seems  to  be  the  latest  deus  ex  machina  in  place-name 
investigation.  We  would  suggest  as  the  origin  of  Kneeton  the  common 
woman's  name  Cynegifu  or  Goengifu.  The  latter  form  occurs  as  Cheneue 
in  a  charter  (Searle).  The  sound-changes  would  be  as  follows :  Goengi- 
fetun  >  Ken^ivetun  [kenjivetun]  (with  shifting  of  stress  from  the  first  to 
the  second  syllable)  >  Keniveton  >  Kniveton ;  see  Wyld's  preface  to 
Alexander's  Oxfordshire  Place-Names. 


408  Reviews 

Lastly,  we  venture  to  offer  some  suggestions  in  the  case  of  names 
for  which  Dr  Mutschmann  can  offer  none,  or  where  we  disagree  with, 
but  cannot  disprove,  those  made  by  him.  The  first  element  of  Beeston 
and  Beesthorpe  is  probably  the  pers.  n.  Beaga,  or  else  Beag-,  the  first 
element  of  O.E.  pers.  n.  Beag  would  become  Beh  in  M.E.  and  its  gen. 
case  would  become  Bes.  An  alternative  to  O.E.  beofor,  '  beaver '  as  the 
first  element  of  Bevercoates  may  be  sought  in  the  pers.  n.  Bealdfrift, 
the  development  being  Bealdfrift  >  Belfrift  >  Bevre.  Another  possible 
origin  for  the  first  element  of  Bothamsall  is  the  pers.  n.  Beaduhelm  or 
Beadumund.  Dr  Mutschmann  does  not  make  it  clear  how  Bodwine 
could  give  the  Bodmes-  or  Bodemes-  of  the  early  forms ;  it  would  give 
rather  Bodin-,  Boding-,  as  in  the  pi.  n.  Boddington.  Brecks  should  riot 
be  explained  by  O.  Icel.  brekka,  '  slope,'  for  this  occurs  in  English  in  the 
Danish  form  brink.  The  E.D.D.  under  '  break,'  v.  also  spelt  '  breck,'  gives 
the  following  among  other  meanings  :  '  a  piece  of  ground  broken  up  for 
cultivation  or  other  purposes ;  a  piece  of  unenclosed  arable  land ;  a  large 
division  of  an  open  cornfield.'  It  occurs  in  several  pi.  names,  as  Norbreck, 
Esprick,  Sunbrick,  Lanes.;  Haverbrack,  Westm.;  and  Breaks,  a  farm  in 
Cumb.  The  word  is  probably  connected  with  O.E.  brecan,  'to  break/ 
The  first  element  of  Chilwell  is  more  likely  a  pers.  n.  CM  or  Cille  than 
the  hypothetical  O.E.  word  *celd,  *cild.  Eakring  may  be  the  same 
word  as  that  which  forms  the  first  element  of  Accrington,  Lanes.,  the 
early  forms  being  very  similar  in  both  cases.  The  first  element  of 
Farndon  and  Farnsfield  is  more  probably  the  pers.  n.  Fcerwine  than  the 
O.E.  fearn,  '  fern.'  Gotham  is  rather  '  the  goat  meadow '  than  '  the 
home  of  the  goats,'  the  terminal  being  O.E.  hamm,  '  riverside  meadow.' 
Here  it  may  be  mentioned  that  Dr  Mutschmann  is  mistaken  in  thinking 
that  the  exact  sense  of  O.E.  healh  is  'very  uncertain'  (s.v.  Hallam); 
it  means  '  river  meadow  '  like  hamm,  and  not '  valley '  as  Dr  Mutschmann 
thinks.  Hayton  may  mean  '  enclosure  or  field  in  the  hay '  rather  than 
'farm  in  the  heath.'  The  first  element  of  Hempshill  may  be  the 
pers.  n.  Heahmod.  The  first  element  of  Nettleworth  may  be  a  pers.  n. 
such  as  Niftwulf,  altered  by  'popular  etymology.'  It  is  by  no  means 
certain,  a*s  Dr  Mutschmann  thinks,  that  Ox  ton  means  '  the  ox-enclosure.' 
The  first  element  may  be  a  pers.  n.  such  as  Oca,  or  it  may  even  be 
a  shortened  form  of  Oscytel.  An  alternative  suggestion  for  Ruddington 
is  the  pers.  n.  Hroftwine,  of  which  Searle  cites  a  form  Rothin.  The  first 
element  of  Sere ve ton  may  possibly  be  the  pers.  n.  Sceorfwine.  Scrooby 
may  come  from  the  pers.  n.  Scrob  cited  by  Searle.  The  first  element  of 
Sneinton  may  be  the  gen.  case  of  the  pers.  n.  Snodda,  the  early  form 
Snotinton  being  perhaps  due  to  the  influence  of  Snotingham,  the  early 
form  of  Nottingham.  The  statement  that  the  spelling  -holm  of  the 
early  forms  of  Sowlkholme  is  due  to  confusion  with  the  pi.  n.  element 
-holme,  and  that  the  original  form  in  this  name  was  O.E.  cumb,  '  valley,' 
seems  to  be  quite  unsupported.  Holm  is  here  the  original  form.  An 
alternative  suggestion  for  Tiln  is  the  pers.  n.  Tilwine ;  Searle  cites  alscT 
the  name  Tilne.  Trowell  cannot  come  from  O.E.  treow,  '  tree,'  as  all  the 
early  forms  but  one  show  o.  Dr  Mutschmann's  attempt  to  justify  his 


Reviews  409 

derivation  on  phonological  grounds  does  not  convince.  The  origin  may 
possibly  be  the  O.N.  pers.  n.  foraldr  or  forwaldr,  Anglicised  to  furweald 
or  Ipurwold.  If  this  be  right,  metathesis  of  the  r  took  place.  The  first 
element  of  Tythby  may  be  O.E.  teofta,  teogefta,  '  tenth/  which  has  given 
the  modern  '  tithe.'  The  first  element  of  Wimpton  and  Winthorpe 
is  rather  Wigmund  than  Winemund.  On  the  evidence  of  the  early 
forms  Winkerbum,  Wingeburne,  it  is  surely  simpler  and  more  correct  to 
derive  Winkburn  from  the  pers.  n.  Wingcer  or  Winegcer,  than  to  state 
an  elaborate  case  in  favour  of  a  hypothetical  O.E.  adjective  *wincol, 
allied  to  wincian,  '  to  blink,  wink.'  The  first  element  of  Wiseton  and 
perhaps  also  of  Wysall  is  Wig,  Wiga  rather  than  Wisa.  In  connection 
with  Staythorpe  we  may  note  that  Searle  cites  the  pers.  n.  Steorra. 
The  early  forms  of  Gamston  are  identical  with  those  of  Gamblesby, 
Cumb.  The  early  forms  of  Leverton  point  to  the  pers.  n.  Leofgar  as 
the  first  element.  * 

It  must  not  be  thought  from  the  above  rather  detailed  criticism  that 
Dr  Mutschmann  has  made  a  bad  book ;  on  the  contrary  it  is  a  distinctly 
good  book  and  reflects  much  credit  upon  him.  We  hope  he  may 
undertake  the  place-names  of  other  English  counties. 

W.  J.  SEDGEFIELD. 
MANCHESTER. 


A  Grammar  of  the  Dialect  of  Lorton.  By  BORJE  BRILIOTH.  (Publica- 
tions of  the  Philological  Society,  I).  Oxford:  University  Press. 
1913.  xi  +  198  pp. 

For  some  time  past  it  has  been  recognised  by  students  of  our 
language  that  there  is  urgent  need  of  a  detailed  study  of  our  dialects 
before  the  opportunity  vanishes  for  ever.  Even  now  there  are  com- 
paratively few  localities  in  England  where  the  pure  dialect  has 
survived  in  its  entirety,  that  is  to  say,  not  merely  in  pronunciation  but 
also  in  vocabulary,  idiom,  grammar  and  syntax.  The  old  people,  those 
depositories  of  tradition,  are  passing  away,  and  in  a  few  years  the  modern 
substitute  for  the  pure  dialect,  viz.  the  local  variety  of  Standard 
English,  will  reign  supreme.  When  that  day  arrives,  the  study  of 
living  dialect  in  England  will  be  over.  Since  so  few  Englishmen  care  to 
study  their  own  speech  seriously,  we  must  be  grateful  to  those  foreign 
scholars  who  do  the  work  for  them.  It  is  especially  fitting  that  a 
Scandinavian,  a  countryman  of  such  first-class  authorities  on  English 
philology  and  dialect  study  as  Erik  Bjorkman,  Eilert  Ekwall  and 
others,  should  have  undertaken  the  investigation  of  the  Cumberland 
dialect,  which  has  been  so  profoundly  modified  by  West  Scandinavian 
settlement.  Dr  Brilioth  was  well  advised  by  Professor  Wright  to 
choose  a  Cumberland  dale  for  his  researches  in  English  dialect,  for  there,  ' 
more  than  elsewhere,  the  conditions  make  for  purity  of  the  local  speech. 
In  obtaining  his  material  Dr  Brilioth  was  equally  fortunate,  for  not  only 

M.  L.  E.  ix.  27 


410  Reviews 

was  he  able  to  hear  natives  speak  to  each  other  in  an  unconstrained 
manner,  but  was  further  assisted  in  recording  the  dialect  forms  by  a 
native  of  education.  The  phonology  is,  as  might  be  expected  in  a 
scientific  study,  treated  in  great  detail,  covering  ninety-five  pages, 
while  the  grammar  proper  covers  thirty-five.  In  the  appendix  some 
valuable  matter  is  brought  together  in  a  list  of  nearly  three  hundred 
Scandinavian  loan  words  occurring  in  the  Cumberland  dialect,  and 
specimens  of  the  Lorton  dialect  in  phonetic  transcription.  .Finally 
there  is  a  glossary,  with  references,  of  all  the  dialect  words  recorded 
in  the  book.  The  treatment  throughout  is  clear  and  adequate,  and 
bears  witness  to  keen  and  patient  observation  directed  by  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  earlier  stages  of  the  language  and  the  principles  of  its 
development.  In  conclusion  we  may  express  the  hope  that  Dr  Brilioth 
may  be  able  to  continue  his  researches  in  the  field  of  English  dialect 
study,  and  that  other  scholars  may  be  induced  to  follow  his  example. 

W.  J.  SEDGEFIELD. 

MANCHESTER. 


Word-Formation  in  Kipling.  By  W.  LEEB-LuNDBERG.  Lund  : 
Lindstets  Univ.  Bokh.  (Cambridge:  Heffer.)  1909.  8vo.  x  + 
116  pp. 

Names  of  Places  in  a  Transferred  Sense  in  English.  By  C.  EFVERGREN. 
Lund:  Gleerupska  Univ.  Bokh.  (Cambridge:  Heffer.)  1909. 
8vo.  xii  +  123  pp. 

The  Language  of  Robinson  Crusoe.  By  G.  L.  LANNERT.  Upsala: 
Almquist  and  Wiksell.  (Cambridge:  Heffer.)  1910.  8vo. 
xxxviii  +125  pp. 

The  Language  of  Swinburne  s  Lyrics  and  Epics.  By  G.  SERNER.  Lund  : 
Berlingska  Boktryckeriet.  1910.  8vo.  viii  +  138pp. 

On  the  History  and  Use  of  the  Suffixes  -ery,  -age  and  -ment  in  English. 
By  F.  GADDE.  Lund :  Gleerupska  Univ.  Bokh.  (Cambridge : 
Heffer.)  1910.  8vo.  viii  +  143  pp. 

The  Place  of  the  Adjective  Attribute  in  English  Prose.  By  B.  PALM. 
Lund:  Berlingska  Boktryckeriet.  1911.  8vo.  xiv+173pp. 

The  History  of  the  Definite  Tenses  in  English.  By  ALFRED  AKERLUND. 
(Cambridge:  Heffer.)  1911.  8vo.  x  +  lOlpp. 

Slang  and  Cant  in  Jerome  K.  Jeromes  Works.  By  0.  E.  BOSSON. 
(Cambridge :  Heffer.)  1911.  8vo.  79pp. 

Within  the  last  ten  years  there  has  been  a  rapid  development  of 
English  studies  in  Sweden.  There  existed  originally  at  each  of  the  two 
old  State  Universities  of  Upsala  and  Lund  only  one  professorship  of 
'  Nyeuropeisk  lingvistik '  (Modern  European  Philology),  the  unfortunate 
holder  of  which  had  to  lecture  and  examine  in  English,  French  and 


Reviews  411 

German,  and  their  kindred  dialects  and  tongues.  Later  on  a  separate 
chair  was  established  for  Romance  languages,  the  immediate  result  of 
which  was  an  extraordinary  influx  of  students  to  this  department  and 
consequent  increase  in  the  quality  and  amount  of  original  work 
produced. 

English  and  German  remained,  however,  as  '  Germanska  sprak,' 
unwilling  yoke-fellows  up  to  the  beginning  years  of  the  twentieth 
century — more  definitely  1903 — when  after  vigorous  efforts  and  peti- 
tionings  on  the  part  of  those  interested,  the  Swedish  Riksdag  finally 
voted  sufficient  funds  for  the  establishment  of  separate  professorships  of 
English  and  German  at  the  two  older  universities.  Some  years  later 
that  great  friend  of  learning,  Andrew  Carnegie,  gave  £10,000  to  found 
a  chair  of  English  Language  and  Literature  at  Gothenburg. 

As  in  the  case  of  the  Romance  languages  the  immediate  result  of 
the  separation  of  English  from  German  was  a  rapid  development  and 
growth  of  the  subject  both  at  Upsala  arid  Lund;  and  the  interest  for 
English  studies  received  a  further  impetus  through  the  appointment  of 
young  and  energetic  scholars  to  these  newly  established  chairs  as  they 
successively  fell  vacant,  viz.  Eilert  Ekvall  at  Lund  and  Erik  Bjorkman 
at  Upsala,  both  trained  chiefly  under  Noreen  and  Morsbach,  and  both 
endowed  with  that  breadth  of  outlook,  combined  with  extreme  delicacy 
and  care  in  the  handling  of  detail,  which  is  so  marked  a  characteristic 
of  their  two  brilliant  teachers. 

At  Upsala  and  Lund  as  a  consequence  no  particular  period  or  branch 
of  English  is  set  apart  for  encouragement  and  study.  The  speech- 
sounds  of  the  eighteenth  century  are  held  as  worthy  of  notice  as  those  of 
the  eighth,  morphology  and  syntax  receive  due  attention,  and  the 
vulgarisms,  cant  and  slang  of  the  present  day  are  investigated  as 
zealously  as  the  diction  of  the  poets. 

Students  of  British  universities  cannot  but  marvel  at  and  envy  an 
academic  system  and  teaching  which  results  in  the  production  of 
research  work  of  such  a  high  character  as  the  treatises  enumerated 
above.  With  the  exception  of  Bosson's  paper  on  '  Slang  and  Cant  in 
Jerome's  Works '  they  all  emanate  from  Lund  or  Upsala,  and  were 
originally  published  as  theses  for  the  attainment  of  the  doctor's  degree 
at  these  universities.  They  are  all  written  in  English,  style  and  contents 
being  equally  good,  and  testifying  to  the  strictly  scientific  method  and 
excellent  training  provided  for  candidates  for  the  highest  academic 
honours  at  these  small  and  comparatively  poor  Swedish  universities. 
Comparisons  are  invidious,  but  one  cannot  help  hoping  that  some  day 
research  work  in  the  different  branches  of  English  will  be  organised  at 
British  universities  on  as  broad  and  comprehensive  a  basis  as  appears  to 
be  the  case  in  Sweden. 

Generally  speaking  English  receives  a  great  deal  of  attention  both 
at  schools  and  universities  in  Sweden.  In  Gothenburg  experiments  are 
carried  on  with  English  as  a  foundation  language,  but  as  a  rule  it  is 
started  in  the  fourth  form,  that  is  about  six  years  before  the  final '  student 
examen '  or  abiturium. 

27—2 


412  Reviews 

At  Lund  during  the  present  academic  year  there  are  close  on  forty 
graduate  and  undergraduate  members  taking  English  as  one  of  their 
chief  subjects,  and  of  these  eight  are  reading  for  their  '  Licentiat '  or 
M.A.,  and  simultaneously  starting  or  carrying  on  research  work  for  the 
Ph.D.  degree,  to  which  they  afterwards  proceed  almost  without  excep- 
tion. 

In  conclusion,  it .  is  a  pleasure  to  acknowledge  our  indebtedness  to 
Mr  C.  E.  Fearenside,  Lector  in  English  at  Lund,  for  arranging  these  and 
other  similar  treatises  for  British  publication,  and  to  the  enterprising 
firm  of  W.  Heffer  and  Sons,  Cambridge,  for  placing  them  before  the 
public. 

A.  C.  PAUES. 

CAMBRIDGE. 


Le  Roman  Realiste  sous  le  Second  Empire.      By  PIERRE  MARTINCX 
Hachette  et  Cie.     1913.     8vo.     311  pp. 

The  novels  of  Murger  and  Champfleury,  Madame  Bovary,  Feydeau's 
Fanny,  Duranty's  Le  Malheur  d'Henriette  Gerard,  the  novels  of  the  Gon- 
courts,  Zola's  Therese  Raquin,  all,  with  the  exception  of  the  immortal 
Madame  Bovary,  are  fast  mingling  with  the  snows  of  yesteryear.  But 
none  the  less,  M.  Martino,  with  these  for  his  chief  documents,  has- 
written  an  interesting  chapter  of  literary  history,  treating  it  with  im- 
partiality arid  insight. 

The  realistic  campaign  was  not  at  the  outset  concerned  with  litera- 
ture. It  was  opened  in  1848  by  the  painter,  Courbet,  and  it  was  he,  or 
one  of  his  friends,  who  invented  the  word  Realisme.  His  famous 
picture,  now  in  the  Louvre,  of  L' Enterrement  d'Omans,  dates  from  1851. 
Naturally  this  revolutionary  spirit,  who  signed  himself  'Courbet  sans 
ideal  et  sans  religion/  aroused  violent  opposition,  and  Th.  de  Banville 
and  Ph.  Boyer  were  not  without  justice  on  their  side,  when  in  their 
satirical  comedy,  Le  Feuilleton  d Aristophane,  they  made  Realista  say: 

Faire  vrai,  ce  n'est  rien  pour  etre  realiste  : 
C'est  faire  laid  qu'il  faut. 

Among  Courbet's  friends  who  met  at  a  brasserie  in  the  Rue  Haute- 
feuille  and  listened  to  his  doctrines  the  most  assiduous  was  Champfleury. 
It  was  he  who  carried  the  propaganda  into  the  domain  of  literature  and 
published  in  1853  Les  Aventures  de  Mile  Mariette,  a  novel  d  clefs  of  the 
Bohemian  society  which  he  frequented.  In  the  preface  he  defined 
Realism  as  *  the  choice  of  modern  and  popular  subjects,'  and  elsewhere 
he  declared  that  the  essential  formula  was  '  sincerity  in  art.'  To  attain 
this,  subjects  should  be  chosen  from  the  life  of  the  lower  middle  class — 
the  class  to  which  Champfleury  himself  belonged.  For  this  reason  he 
greatly  admired  the  work  of  Henry  Monnier,  whose  M.  Prudhomme  he 
declared  to  be  the  greatest  figure  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Monnier's 
Scenes  populaires  had  appeared  as  far  back  as  1829,  but  it  was  not  till 


Reviews  413 

about  1855  that  these  sketches,  which  with  their  literal  transcript  of 
commonplace  conversation  are  unreadable  at  the  present  day,  were  hailed 
as  examples  of  the  realistic  doctrine.  About  the  same  time  Stendhal, 
whose  wider  influence  did  not  begin  till  a  quarter  of  a  century  later, 
began  to  have  a  limited  popularity.  But  the  chief  god  of  the  rising 
realistic  school  was  Balzac.  It  was  Champfleury  who  was  selected  by 
his  widow,  Mme  Hanska,  to  edit  his  unpublished  writings,  and  among 
the  artists  who  illustrated  the  edition  of  his  works  published  by  Hous- 
siaux  in  1855  was  Monnier.  In  1856  Champfleury  founded  a  Gazette, 
which  only  reached  two  numbers.  But  its  successor,  Realisme,  of  which 
the  chief  inspirer  was  Duranty,  led  a  flickering  life  from  July  1856  to 
May  1857. 

As  M.  Martino  is  dealing  almost  exclusively  with  novelists  who 
definitely  hoisted  the  banner  of  Realism,  it  is  perhaps  natural  that  he 
should  make  no  reference  to  influences  other  than  those  *which  the 
realists  themselves  inscribed  on  their  flag.  But  he  might  with  advan- 
tage have  briefly  noted  the  forces  which  contributed  to  a  favourable 
reception  of  their  theories.  These  were,  firstly,  the  growing  reaction 
against  Romanticism  ;  secondly,  the  rising  current  of  scientific  and 
positivist  thought ;  thirdly,  the  increase  of  observation  among  the 
Romanticists  themselves,  as  shewn  by  Vigny's  Servitude  et  grandeur 
militaires  (1835),  George  Sand's  rustic  novels  from  Jeanne  (1844) 
onwards,  and  above  all  the  work  of  Merimee.  M.  Faguet  says  that 
Merimee  was  a  'realiste  hors  France,'  but  though  this  is  true  of 
Colomba  and  Carmen,  it  does  not  apply  to  the  admirable  tale  of  Arsene 
Guillot  (1844),  the  scene  of  which  is  laid  in  contemporary  Paris. 

While  Realisme  was  running  its  fitful  course,  Madame  Bovary  was 
published  in  the  Revue  de  Paris  (October  1 — December  15,  1856),  and 
as  the  object  of  a  sensational  prosecution  (January  and  February,  1857) 
at  once  attracted  the  attention  of  all  literary  Paris.  To  quote  M.  Faguet 
again,  '  it  founded  realism  in  France.'  But,  says  M.  Martino,  the  author 
of  Madame  Bovary  is  not  at  all  a  realist  in  the  ordinary  sense  that  the 
word  has  acquired  in  the  language  of  criticism.  '  Flaubert,'  he  adds, 
'  never  recognised  the  masters  of  the  realists  as  his  own.  He  felt  no 
enthusiasm  for  Balzac... he  did  not  understand  Stendhal,  he  had  a  con- 
tempt for  Champfleury.'  The  exactitude  and  impartiality  of  his 
observation  are  the  result  of  his  artistic  conscience,  of  his  theory  of 
'art  for  art.'  All  this  is  true,  but  it  only  means  that  Flaubert, 
a  man  of  genius,  arrived  at  realism  by  a  different  route  to  that  of 
Champfleury  and  Duranty.  If  Madame  Bovary  and  L1  Education  senti- 
mentale  are  not  true  realistic  novels,  so  much  the  worse  for  the  realistic 
novel.  Among  those  who  recognised  the  importance  of  Madame 
Bovary  were  Sainte-Beuve,  who  ended  his  causerie  of  May  4  1857  with 
the  words  '  Anatomistes  et  physiologistes,  je  vous  retrouve  partout,'  and 
Taine  who,  writing  to  J.  J.  Weiss  on  January  25,  1858,  declared  that 
he  knew  of  no  finer  novel  since  Balzac.  Nine  days  after  writing  this 
the  first  of  his  famous  articles  on  Balzac  appeared  in  the  Journal  des 
Debats.  About  the  same  time  he  published  his  Essais  de  critique  et 


414  Reviews 

d'histoire,  which  contained  articles  on  the  English  realists,  Thackeray 
and  Dickens.  'Taine,'  says  with  truth  M.  Martino,  'was  the  philo- 
sopher of  realism.'  His  criticism  performed  the  same  services  for 
the  realistic  movement  as  Sainte-Beuve's  had  done  for  Romanticism. 
The  triumph  of  the  realistic  novel  was  assured.  It  was  a  sign  of  this 
triumph  that  Sainte-Beuve  welcomed  with  more  unqualified  praise  than 
he  had  given  to  Madame  Bovary  Feydeau's  very  inferior  and  now  wholly 
forgotten  novel  of  Fanny,  which  appeared  in  1858  and  captured  the 
suffrages  alike  of  the  critics  and  the  general  public1. 

In  1860  realism  was  reinforced  by  the  appearance  in  the  field  of  the 
Goncourt  brothers,  who  for  ten  years  previously  had  been  producing 
patient  and  minute  studies  of  eighteenth  century  art  and  society,  and 
were  also  eager  collectors  of  artistic  treasures.  Thus  they  brought  to 
their  work  the  method  of  the  trained  researcher,  and  the  passion  for 
novelty  of  the  collector.  But  they  had  spent  their  days  in  cloistered 
seclusion,  they  were  ignorant  of  life  and  martyrs  to  nervous  dyspepsia. 
As  good  realists  they  founded  their  novels  on  the  personal  experiences  of 
themselves  and  their  friends,  but  they  showed  a  preference  for  morbid 
subjects  arid  abnormal  characters,  and  they  treated  these  in  a  pessi- 
mistic spirit  which  was  characteristic  of  the  age,  but  which  also  closely 
reflected  their  own  nervous  and  over-excited  temperament.  '  Our  work,' 
wrote  one  of  them  to  Zola,  '  is  the  result  of  nervous  disease.'  It  was 
only  too  true :  in  1870  the  younger  brother,  Jules,  died  of  over-work. 
It  was  not  till  nearly  ten  years  later,  when  French  pessimism  and 
materialism  had  reached  their  highest  pitch,  that  their  novels  met  with 
favour,  thanks  chiefly  to  the  noisy  intervention  of  Zola.  For  it  was  largely 
under  their  influence  that  the  latter,  who  made  his  realistic  debut  with 
Therese  Raquin  at  the  close  of  1867,  transformed  Realism  into 
Naturalism  and  developed  his  theory  of  the  scientific  novel.  It  was  from 
the  Goncourts  that  he  learnt  to  stuff  himself  with  documents,  to  pay 
attention  to  minute  details,  to  study  manners  rather  than  characters, 
and  types  rather  than  individuals,  and  to  choose  these  types  from  the 
lowest  and  most  degraded  classes  of  humanity.  But  he  was  also 
influenced  by  Stendhal,  Balzac,  and  Flaubert,  by  Sainte-Beuve  and  Taifle> 
and  above  all  by  Claude  Bernard,  whose  remarkable  Introduction  a  la 
medecine  experimentale  appeared  in  the  same  year  (1865)  as  Germinie 
Lacerteux  and  made  a  great  impression  on  the  literary  as  well  as  the 
scientific  world.  Thus  Emile  Zola,  the  virtuous  bourgeois,  who  had 
imagination  and  feeling,  and  even  a  streak  of  genius,  who  could  paint 
large  canvasses  and  look  out  on  wide  horizons,  was  driven  by  a  pedantry 
that  was  the  fruit  of  ill-digested  reading  to  produce  the  dullest  novels 
that  have  ever  caught  the  applause  of  an  undiscerning  public. 

But  Zola's  work  as  a  whole  does  not  fall  within  the  scope  of 
M.  Martino's  narrative,  which  stops  at  1870,  and  he  can  therefore  only 
chronicle  the  opening  of  the  last  phase  of  the  realistic  novel,  the  phase 
which  led  through  a  clamorous  success  to  its  ultimate  downfall.  The 
Roman  Realiste,  in  the  strict  and  historical  sense  of  the  term,  was 
1  Sainte-Beuve's  praise  was  considerably  modified  later. 


Reviews  415 

a  failure  ;  unless  we  are  to  include  in  it  Madame  Bovary  it  produced  no 
work  of  real  genius.  But  we  must  not  forget,  when  we  glibly  use  the 
word  realism  as  a  current  term  of  criticism,  that  it  was  the  invention  of 
Champfleury  and  his  friends,  and  that  it  was  applied  by  them  to  a  type 
of  novel  of  their  own  making.  Nor  must  we  forget  that  stripped  of 
unessentials  their  conception  was  a  reasonable  one,  for  it  was  simply  this, 
that  the  novelist  should  describe  sincerely  the  life  that  he  knows  best. 
In  Champfleury 's  case  it  was  Bohemian  life,  but  that  was  an  accident 
and  not  an  essential.  The  misfortune  was  that  his  reasonable  theory 
was  complicated  by  needless  and  harmful  accretions.  Because  Balzac 
carried  to  excess  his  love  of  material  description,  his  would  be  disciples 
must  needs  do  the  same.  Because  Champfleury  described  the  Bohemian 
life  that  he  knew,  his  successors  must  needs  confine  themselves  to  the 
life  of  the  lower  classes,  which  they  did  not  know.  Edmond  de  Gon- 
court  indeed  recognised  this  fallacy  at  last.  '  Realism,'  he  says  in 
a  passage  written  in  1879  and  quoted  by  M.  Martino,  '  has  not  the  sole 
mission  to  describe  what  is  low,  repulsive  and  foul ;  it  has  come  into 
the  world  also  for  the  purpose  of  delineating  in  an  artistic  style  (dans 
de  Vecriture  artiste]  that  which  is  elevated,  beautiful  and  of  a  sweet 
savour.'  Frenchmen  realised  this  a  few  years  later  when  they  began  to 
read  Turgenieff,  Tolstoy,  and  George  Eliot.  The  realism  of  the  Gon- 
courts  and  Zola  was  after  all  a  sham  realism,  and  that  not  only  because 
they  described  life  which  they  did  not  know  at  first  hand,  but  because 
they  had  not  the  temperament  of  true  realists.  The  Goncourts 
were  nervous  pessimists,  Zola  was  a  romantic  pessimist ;  '  to  see  life 
steadily  and  see  it  whole'  was  for  all  three  an  impossibility. 

ARTHUR  TILLEY. 
CAMBRIDGE. 


Le  Theatre  anglais  a  Paris  sous  la  Restauration.    Par  J.  L.  BORGERHOFF. 
Paris:  Hachette  et  Cie.     1912.     8vo.  245pp. 

The  performances  of  the  English  actors  at  Paris  in  1827  and  1828 
have  an  historical  importance,  for  they  throw  light  on  the  question  of 
Shakespeare's  influence  on  the  Romantic  drama.  For  this  reason, 
M.  J.  L.  Borgerhoffs  Le  Theatre  anglais  'a  Paris  sous  la  Restauration  is 
a  welcome  contribution  to  literary  history.  The  permanent  members  of 
the  company  comprised  William  Abbot,  the  manager,  and  Miss  Smithson, 
while  Listen,  Charles  Kemble,  Macready,  and  Kean,  the  four  leading 
English  actors,  joined  them  in  turn  for  short  periods.  Thus  the  French 
had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  Shakespeare's  great  tragedies,  though  in 
the  mutilated  form  in  which  they  were  presented  in  those  days,  more  or 
less  adequately  interpreted.  The  performances  drew  crowded  houses 
and  the  criticisms  on  the  whole  were  very  favourable.  Those  of  Charles 
Magnin  and  Duvergier  de  Hauranne  in  the  Globe  showed  special  insight. 
Of  these  criticisms,  as  they  appeared  from  time  to  time  in  the  Globe, 


416  Reviews 

the  Reunion,  the  Journal  des  Debats,  the  Quotidienne,  the  Pandore, 
M.  Borgerhoff  gives  an  excellent  analysis.  We  learn  that  Kemble  was 
successful  as  Hamlet  and  Romeo,  but  much  less  so  as  Othello,  in  which 
part  Macready  was  preferred  not  only  to  him  but  to  Kean.  Kean's 
Shylock,  however,  roused  the  Parisians  to  enthusiasm.  'He  invested 
him,'  says  Fanny  Kemble, '  with  a  concentrated  ferocity  that  made  one's 
blood  curdle.'  Miss  Smithson,  according  to  the  same  authority, '  received 
a  rather  disproportionate  share  of  admiration,'  for  her  reputation  in  this 
country  was  only  moderate.  But  the  Irish  beauty  conquered  the  hearts 
of  the  Parisians,  especially  that  of  Berlioz,  with  whom,  as  is  well  known, 
she  made  an  unhappy  marriage. 

The  last  chapter  of  the  volume  deals  with  the  effect  of  the  repre- 
sentations, especially  on  the  romantic  movement.  It  was  under  the 
influence  of  the  first  performances  of  Hamlet,  Othello,  and  Romeo  and 
Juliet  that  Hugo  began  to  write  his  famous  preface  to  Cromwell.  Dumas 
was  filled  with  enthusiasm.  '  It  was  only  then,'  he  says  after  seeing 
Hamlet, '  that  I  realised  what  the  drama  could  be. ...  For  the  first  time 
I  had  seen  real  passions  on  the  stage,  inspiring  men  and  women  of  real 
flesh  and  blood.'  Possibly  Shakespeare  served  as  an  inspiration  rather 
than  a  model.  But  the  whole  question  of  his  influence  on  the  romanti- 
cists is  a  difficult  one,  and  M.  Borgerhoff  might  have  considered  it 
rather  more  closely. 

ARTHUR  TILLEY. 

CAMBRIDGE. 


L'Image  du  Monde  de  Maitre  Gossouin.  Redaction  en  prose.  Texte 
du  Manuscrit  de  la  Bibliotheque  Nationale  Fonds  Francis 
No.  574,  avec  corrections  d'apres  d'autres  manuscrits,  notes  et 
introduction.  Par  0.  H.  PRICE.  Lausanne  et  Paris  :  Payot  et  Cie. 
1913.  8vo.  216  pp. 

Parmi  les  oeuvres  didactiques  du  moyen  age  ecrites  en  langue 
vulgaire,  I'lmage  du  Monde  est  la  plus  ancienne  des  encyclopedies 
(milieu  du  xuie  siecle).  II  en  existe  trois  redactions  en  vers  (encore 
inedites)  dont  les  dates  et  les  rapports  n'ont  pu  jusqu'ici  etre  deter- 
mines de  faQon  certaine1;  on  en  possede  aussi  une  redaction  en  prose  qui 
suit  de  tres  pres  le  texte  de  la  plus  ancienne  des  trois  redactions  en 
vers  :  c'est  cette  redaction  en  prose  que  publie  M.  Prior. 

Son  edition  n'est,  stricternent  parlant,  ni  une  edition  diplomatique, 
ni  une  edition  critique.  M.  Prior  imprime  le  texte  du  MS.  fr.  574  de  la 
Bibliotheque  Nationale  (de'signe  par  A)  parce  que  c'est  sur  ce  MS.  qu'a 
e*te  copi6  le  MS.  Royal  19  AIX.  du  British  Museum,  base  de  la  traduc- 
tion  en  anglais  de  Caxton  (Mirrour  of  the  World,  1481).  Ce  detail 
n'empeche  pas  que  le  choix  du  MS.  A  reste  arbitraire  (v.  pp.  22-23) ; 
toutefois,  il  y  a  si  peu  de  differences  entre  les  divers  MSS. — chose 
naturelle  pour  une  oauvre  didactique — que  cet  arbitraire  n'a  rien  de 
1  Of.  E.  Faral  dans  Romania,  XLIII,  p.  280  sq. 


Reviews  417 

grave.  Les  abreviations  du  MS.  sont  resolues  en  caracteres  italiques 
— ce  qui  semble  annoncer  une  edition  quasi  diplomatique;  mais 
M.  Prior  complete  et  corrige  le  texte  de  A  a  1'aide  d'autres  MSS.  eb 
imprime  en  caracteres  gras  les  passages  ou  Ie9ons  Strangers  a  A — ce  qui 
est  un  semblant  d'edition  critique.  L'effet  est  quelque  peu  desagre'able 
a  1'oeil.  Au-dessous  du  texte  ainsi  presente  sont  indiquees  toutes  les 
variantes  du  MS.  Bibl.  Nat.  fr.  25344  (designe  par  E)  et  quelques 
variantes  empruntees  a  d'autres  MSS.  Comme,  dans  la  plupart  des  cas, 
les  variantes  de  B  sont  purement  graphiques,  il  eiit  peut-etre  ete  pre- 
ferable d'alle'ger  1'appareil  critique  en  consacrant  dans  1'Introduction 
quelques  pages  precises  a  une  e"tude  systematique  des  graphics  de  B. 
II  y  a  quelque  bizarrerie  dans  la  facon  dont  M.  Prior  presente  les 
variantes  de  B :  les  italiques  n'y  indiquent  plus,  comme  dans  le  cas  de 
A,  la  resolution  des  abreviations;  elles  indiquent  les  lettres  qui  different 
de  celles  des  mots  correspondants  de  A.  M.  Prior  aurait  du  signaler 
quelque  part  la  double  signification  de  ses  italiques. 

Le  texte  est,  a  1'ordinaire,  satisfaisant.  Voici  quelques  menues 
observations :  p.  59,  1.  1,  il  n'y  a  aucune  raison  d'introduire  est  apres  li 
douziesmes ;  p.  67,  1.  3,  lire  Ja  rii  a  or  a  ;  p.  103,  1.  7,  supprimer  trois 
ou  .Hi. ;  p.  126,  1.  5  du  texte,  lire  senprent;  p.  129,  1.  14,  p.  136,  1.  17  et 
passim,  lire  eaue ;  p.  137,  1.  12,  lire  et  li  espreviers ;  p.  141,  1.  2,  lire  rii ; 
p.  178,  1.  7,  lire  viiiA;  p.  182,  1.  25,  lire  s  entente',  p.  191,  1.  6,  lire  le  siecle, 
qu'il.... 

M.  Prior  a  pris  soin  de  marquer  les  correspondances  exactes  entre 
chaque  chapitre  de  la  redaction  en  prose  et  les  vers  de  la  premiere 
redaction ;  quelques  notes  expliquent,  a  1'ordinaire  avec  clarte,  les 
passages  difficiles  ou  donnent  des  indications — parfois  discu tables1 — sur 
les  graphics  dialectales  de  A.  D'autres  notes  renvoient  aux  sources 
vraisemblables  de  V Image  du  Monde  :  mais,  M.  Prior  traitant  aussi  des 
sources  dans  la  deuxieme  partie  de  son  Introduction  (pp.  27-54),  je 
crois  qu'il  eut  mieux  valu,  pour  eviter  des  repetitions  et  des  renvois 
superflus,  ne  pas  morceler  ainsi  ces  indications  qui,  en  outre,  exigeraient 
parfois  une  determination  plus  precise  et  critique. 

La  premiere  partie  de  1'Introduction  (pp.  1-26 2)  (datation  des< 
redactions  en  vers  et  discussion  des  theories  de  Langlois;  nom  de 
1'auteur — qui  serait  Gossouin  et  non  Gauthier  de  Metz ;  description  et 
essai  de  classement  des  MSS.)  est  judicieuse,  et  les  tables  (noms  propres 
cites  dans  Vintage  du  Monde,  index  des  matieres  qui  y  sont  traitees  et 
bibliographic  des  sources)  seront  tres  utiles. 

II  eut  ete  possible,  ce  semble,  de  simplifier  la  presentation  du  texte 
et  souhaitable  de  resserrer  la  composition ;  il  reste  toutefois  que  le  livre 
tres  soigne  de  M.  Prior  est  une  vraie  contribution  a  notre  connaissance 

de  la  science  du  moyen  age. 

A.  TERRACHER. 

LIVERPOOL. 

1  P.  69  :  er  &  cote  de  -ier  apres  palatale  n'est  pas  necessairement  anglo-normand  dans 
un  MS.  £crit  au  xive  siecle. 

2  P.  2,  n.  3,  liref0.  81  c. 


418  Reviews 


Historia  da  Litteratura  Romantica  Portuguesa  (1825 — 1870).  For 
FIDELINO  DE  FIGUEIKEDO.  Lisboa :  A.  M.  Teixeira.  1913. 
8vo.  Pp.  322. 

Historia  da  Litteratura  Realista  (1871 — 1900).  For  FIDELINO  DE 
FIGUEIREDO.  Lisboa:  A.  M.  Teixeira.  1914.  8vo.  Pp.  313. 

As  the  opening  pages  in  the  earlier  of  these  works  deals  with 
Portuguese  literature  in  the  first  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and 
the  later  volume  embraces  many  authors  still  living,  the  two  books 
together  contain  a  complete  history  of  Portuguese  literature  in  the 
nineteenth  century.  The  impression  left  by  that  literature  is  apt  to  be 
somewhat  dismal,  because  it  is  an  impression  of  wasted  talent :  the 
capacity  is  constantly  more  than  the  achievement.  There  existed,  and 
there  exists,  no  wide  literary  public  in  Portugal.  One  is  inclined  to  say 
that  the  number  of  writers  exceeds  the  number  of  readers  :  at  all  events 
the  Portuguese  writer  who  wishes  to  belong  to  this  or  that  school 
usually  turns  to  some  other  country  than  his  own.  It  was  the  charm 
of  Joao  de  Deus'  poetry  that  he  had  no  such  wish  and  succeeded  in 
being  natural.  Most  Portuguese  writers,  however,  are  keenly  receptive 
of  foreign  influences  and,  owing  to  the  absence  of  candid  criticism  in 
Portugal,  have  been  tempted  to  exaggerate  the  defects  of  their  models. 
Snr.  Fidelino  de  Figueiredo  brings  out  very  clearly  the  lack  of  any 
directing  criticism  and  the  superabundant  production  in  Portuguese 
literature.  Fortunately  the  deficiency  is  'now  in  some  degree  made 
good ;  for  here  is  a  critic,  sincere  and  concrete  in  his  criticisms  (he  does 
not  as  a  rule  traffic  in  abstractions,  although  very  much  occupied  with 
literary  schools  and  systems  and  definitions),  and  likewise  a  critic  who 
does  not  shrink  from  severity.  It  is  perhaps  a  little  disquieting  that  he 
should  'frankly  prefer'  to  national  themes  and  a  study  of  the  Portuguese 
sixteenth-century  writers  '  cosmopolitan  curiosity  and  receptivity  ' ;  but 
no  doubt  Portuguese  writers  might  benefit  by  studying  English,  German 
or  Spanish  literature  instead  of  concentrating  their  attention  on  that  of 
France  (Germany,  indeed,  had  an  influence  on  Herculano  and  Oliveira 
'Martins  and  Quental,  but  traces  of  Spanish  and  English  influence  are 
but  slight  in  modern  Portuguese  literature). 

The  outstanding  figures  of  Snr.  Figueiredo's  first  volume  are 
Almeida  Garrett  and  Alexandre  Herculano;  in  the  second  Anthero 
de  Quental.  Joaquim  Pedro  de  Oliveira  Martins  and  Jose  Maria  de 
E£a  de  Queiroz.  That  Portugal  in  the  nineteenth  century  produced 
a  considerable  number  of  men  of  great  literary  gifts  cannot  be  denied  j 
but,  as  to  works  that  will  live,  there  is  little  beyond  Herculano's  history, 
a  few  lyrics  of  Garrett  and  his  play  Frey  Luiz  de  Sousa,  Joao  de 
Deus's  Flores  do  Campo,  a  few  sonnets  by  Anthero  de  Quental,  one  or 
two  novels  by  Ega  de  Queiroz,  and  possibly  a  few  lyrics  from  Snr.  Guerra 
Junqueiro's  volume  of  poems  :  Os  Simples  (1892).  Diffuseness,  imita- 
tion, insincerity  too  often  marred  the  writing  of  Portuguese  authors, 
and  works  were  written  deliberately  in  the  manner  of  Victor  Hugo  or 


Reviews  419 

Baudelaire  or  Zola.  This  imitativeness  was  especially  felt  in  the 
realistic  school.  Realism  in  Portugal,  says  Snr.  Figueiredo,  'was  not 
derived  from  romanticism  by  a  slow  and  logical  process,  as  in  France, 
but  was  a  foreign  fashion  imposed  aggressively.'  The  result  was 
exaggeration,  and  it  was  only  towards  the  close  of  his  life  that  E$a  de 
Queiroz,  for  instance,  produced  work  of  real  strength  and  originality. 
His  writing  continued  to  improve  steadily  from  the  first ;  because  he  had 
the  will  to  discipline  himself  to  work  more  national  and  sincere  some 
of  his  books  will  endure.  The  same  strong  will  marked  Herculano  and 
Oliveira  Martins.  These  were  instances  of  writers  placing  restrictions 
upon  their  work  without  any  help  or  encouragement  from  Portuguese 
critics. 

Snr.  Figueiredo's  appreciations  are  welcome  because  they  do  not 
merely  dabble  in  eulogy.  He  has  the  courage  to  say  of  Snr.  Gomes 
Leal  that  '  his  work  does  not  correspond  to  the  capacity  of  its  author, 
and  is  an  example  of  how  greatly  his  work  may  injure  a  writer  who  has 
not  attained  an  accurate  knowledge  of  his  own  literary  bent  and  has  had 
no  honest  sincere  criticism  to  help  him/  The  ordinary  Portuguese 
critic  describes  Snr.  Gomes  Leal  as  the  great,  the  illustrious  poet,  and 
does  not  read  his  poems.  Snr.  Figueiredo  has  read  them  and  does 
not  wholly  condemn  them.  Of  that  strange  poem  by  Dr  Theophilo 
Braga,  A  Visdo  dos  Tempos,  originally  published  in  1864  and  augmented 
to  four  large  volumes  thirty  years  later,  he  declares  that  the  best  parts 
are  the  argument  in  prose  at  the  beginning  of  each  volume,  and  points 
out  that  it  is  a  work  '  of  no  inspiration,  in  which  bad  taste  and  prosaic 
verses  abound.'  Such  .pungent  criticisms  are  necessary  in  Portugal, 
where  the  constant  output  of  voluminous  works  of  slight  literary  value 
deters  many  from  studying  Portuguese  literature.  And  this  is  regret- 
table because  there  are  not  a  few  flowers,  of  real  beauty  and,  moreover, 
of  form  and  scent  peculiarly  Portuguese,  among  all  this  mass  of  Weeds. 

AUBREY  F.  G.  BELL. 

S.    JOAO   DO   ESTORIL. 


Folk-Ballads  of  Southern  Europe.  Translated  into  English  Verse  by 
SOPHIE  JEWETT.  New  York  and  London :  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons. 
1913.  8vo.  Pp.  x,  299. 

It  is  interesting,  writes  Miss  Jewett  in  her  introduction,  '  to  notice 
the  ways  in  which  the  ballads  of  the  Romance  countries  differ  from 
those  of  the  North.  I  have  found  fewer  long  narrative  ballads ;  on  the 
other  hand,  the  dramatic  ballad,  which  is  so  noble  in  the  British 
collections  and  quite  as  frequent  there  as  the  narrative  ballad,  is  in 
Southern  folk-song  even  more  noteworthy.  Edward  Edward,  Lord 
Randal  and  Donna  Lombarda  illustrate  the  best  that  is  possible  to  the 
dramatic  ballad.  If  they  do  not  interest  and  thrill  us,  we  may  as  well 
give  over  the  study  of  balladry,  for  it  will  not  yield  us  greater  examples/ 


420  Reviews 

Certainly  there  is  fine  drama  in  the  scene  between  Donna  Lombarda 
and  her  husband,  and  her  answer,  when  he  suggests  that  the  wine  which 
she  has  poisoned  has  a  cloudy  look,  is  magnificent  and  worthy  of  the 
Clytemnestra  of  Aeschylus : 

There  came  the  sea- wind  last  night  at  sunset, 
It  clouded  the  wine. 

Another  Piedmontese  ballad  consists  of  a  dialogue  between  mother 
and  son,  with  a  refrain.  Thus  in  form  it  closely  resembles  the  early 
Portuguese  Gantigas,  in  which  the  dialogue  is  between  mother  and 
daughter :  '  Daughter  whence  come  you  so  white  and  so  fair  ? '  The 
Piedmontese  love-ballad,  UAvellenato,  begins  : 

Where  were  you  yestere veiling 
Dear  son  so  fair  and  noble  ? 

Nearly  a  third  of  the  fifty-five  ballads  here  printed  and  translated 
are  Piedmontese.  In  the  case  of  The  Three  Students  of  Toulouse  it 
would  have  been  better  to  give  the  French  version.  French,  Proven9al 
and  Catalan  versions  exist,  and  the  Piedmontese  text  here  given  is 
almost  certainly  translated  from  the  French.  Some  of  it  indeed  is 
scarcely  even  translated,  as,  for  instance,  testa  al  giudise  a  ja  cupe  ('  he 
has  cut  off  the  head  of  the  judge  ').  Some  of  Miss  Jewett's  translations 
do  not  quite  succeed  in  maintaining  the  dignity  of  the  original,  a 
difficult  task  in  rendering  poems  which  can  steer  so  near  the  ridiculous 
without  ceasing  to  be  sublime.  Thus  her  distich 

The  father  quickly  marries  another 
Giving  his  children  a  stepmother 

is  ludicrous.  Of  this  ballad  (La  Madre  Risuscitata)  Miss  Jevvett  says  : 
*  The  theme  of  a  mother-ghost  stealing  from  her  grave  to  care  for  her 
misused  children  does  not  belong  to  British  balladry,  but  is  common  in 
Continental  folk-lore,  both  Germanic  and  Southern,  being  of  widest 
diffusion  in  France.'  Mrs  Woods  has  used  it  with  great  effect  in  her 
Ballad  of  the  Mother  : 

In  the  dead  of  the  night  the  children  were  weeping. 
The  mother  heard  that  where  she  lay  sleeping, 
And  scratched  at  the  coffin  lid. 

Some  mistranslations  must  be  noticed.  Bermella  is  translated 
'  green  '  instead  of  '  red  ' ;  bermelleta  '  light  green.'  Beveune,  Senyor 
should  be  rendered  not  '  Oh,  drink  again  Senor '  but  simply  '  Drink.' 
So  to  render  Massa  me  las  cremariau  '  How  your  hands  are  scorching 
my  hands'  loses  the  point,  since  the  wife  here,  less  daring  than  Don 
Juan  in  El  Burlador  de  Sevilla,  refuses  to  touch  the  hand  of  the.  dead. 
She  says  :  they  would  burn  her  too  much.  A  more  serious  because  a 
more  insidious  defect  is  the  number  of  unnecessary  additions  which  by 
no  means  add  force  to  the  narrative.  Instances  may  be  found  on  every 
page.  Bucheta  morta  becomes  '  dear  little  dead  mouth,'  un  berganti  '  a 
splendid  ship,'  fieta  ( pretty  maiden,'  tre  giuvenin  de  scola  '  three  gay 


Reviews  421 

young  students.'  That  is  not  to  say  that  Miss  Jewett's  translations  are 
not  often  very  spirited  and  excellent,  only  they  would  have  gained  here 
and  there  by  compression,  just  as  the  form  '  Catalonian '  in  the  intro- 
duction might  with  profit  become  '  Catalan.' 

AUBREY  F.  G.  BELL. 

S.  JO.AO  DO  ESTORIL. 


Miguel  de  Cervantes  Saavedra,  a  Memoir.     By  JAMES  FITZMAURICE- 
KELLY.     Oxford :  Clarendon  Press.     1913.     xx  +  228  pp. 

Since  the  publication  of  Navarrete's  excellent  Vida  de'  Cervantes  in 
1819  many  important  documents  have  been  brought  to  light  concerning 
the  author  of  Don  Quixote.  By  far  the  greatest  number  of  these  dis- 
coveries has  been  made  in  recent  years  and  are  due  to  *  the  patient 
investigations  of  the  late  Cristobal  Perez  Pastor.  Spanish  scholars  had 
almost  been  resigned  to  the  thought  that,  so  far  as  Cervantes  was  con- 
cerned, the  world  probably  knew  all  that  would  ever  be  known,  when  in 
1897  PeVez  Pastor  published  a  volume  of  Documentos  Cervantinos, 
followed  in  1902  by  a  second  volume,  in  which  that  untiring  investigator 
made  known  no  less  than  161  new  contemporary  documents,  many  of 
which  were  of  the  greatest  interest  and  importance.  The  world  of 
Spanish  letters  owes  a  debt  of  lasting  gratitude  to  this  humble  priest, 
to  whose  researches  are  due  more  new  facts  concerning  the  greatest 
of  Spaniards  than  all  other  investigators  put  together  had  yet  dis- 
covered. 

This  mass  of  new  matter  concerning  Cervantes  published  by 
Sr.  Pe'rez  Pastor  has  made  a  new  life  of  Cervantes  a  necessity,  and  in 
the  light  of  these  new  discoveries  Professor  Fitzmaurice-Kelly  has 
written  this  volume,  which  he  styles  a  '  Memoir.'  The  task  could  not 
have  fallen  into  better  hands,  for  long  years  of  study  and  many  publica- 
tions concerning  this,  his  favourite  author,  have  caused  him  to  be 
recognised  as  an  authority  second  to  none  in  this  field.  As  co-editor 
with  the  late  Mr  John  Ormsby,  he  published  the  first  critical  edition  of 
Don  Quixote  (London,  David  Nutt,  1898),  and  he  is  also  the  author  of 
an  excellent  Life  of  Cervantes  (London,  1892),  which  he  capriciously 
despises. 

The  contrast  between  this  Life  of  Cervantes  and  the  Memoir  before 
us  could  hardly  be  greater.  The  earlier  book  is  replete  with  the  charm 
of  literary  style  for  which  the  author  is  so  well  known,  while  this  new 
volume  is  a  '  plain,  unvarnished  tale,'  a  straightforward,  logical,  grim 
recital  of  facts,  with  no  digressions  into  the  realm  of  conjecture.  Pro- 
fessor Fitzmaurice-Kelly  thus  states  his  purpose :  '  My  aim  has  been 
to  give  every  known  fact  about  Cervantes,  suppressing  nothing,  ex- 
tenuating nothing,  unswayed  as  far  as  possible  by  the  natural  bias 
which  we  all  have  in  favour  of  a  great  creative  genius  whose  subtle 
charm  has  fascinated  successive  generations  for  three  centuries.  Against 
this  inevitable  prepossession  I  have  been  constantly  on  guard.  As  it 


422  Reviews 

happens,  Cervantes  needs  no  apologist :  he  is  one  of  those  rare  men  who 
can  afford  to  have  the  whole  truth  told  about  them.  In  this  belief  I 
have  tried  to  make  my  record  as  full  and  exact  as  possible.' 

The  author  has  fulfilled  his  purpose  admirably  :  his  record  is  as  full 
and  exact  as  present  knowledge  can  make  it.  And  this  story  of  the  life 
of  Spain's  greatest  son,  in  which  every  statement  is  supported  by  a 
document  in  the  foot-notes,  though  written  in  the  most  straightforward, 
logical  manner,  and  wholly  unadorned,  is  of  absorbing  interest  from 
cover  to  cover  :  for  into  the  chequered  career  of  Cervantes  were  crowded 
a  series  of  events  rare  in  the  lives  of  men.  And  while  this  story  as  here 
related  tells  us  much  that  is  new,  there  are  many  blanks  left  in 
Cervantes's  life ;  in  fact  of  the  first  twenty  years  we  know  absolutely 
nothing  save  the  date  of  his  baptism.  We  do  not  know  where  he 
received  his  schooling.  Doubtless  he  studied  his  prim  eras  letras  at 
Alcala  de  Henares,  the  city  of  his  birth.  The  fine  flowing  hand  that 
Cervantes  wrote  and  the  fact  that  all  his  sisters  were  able  to  write  (an 
unusual  thing  in  those  days),  all  point  to  the  fact,  however,  that  his 
early  training  was  careful,  for  if  Cervantes's  father — a  poor  apothecary 
surgeon — paid  such  attention  to  the  education  of  his  daughters,  it  is 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  he  was  even  more  solicitous  about  the  school- 
ing of  his  sons.  Of  one  thing,  however,  we  may  be  reasonably  certain  : 
Cervantes  never  studied  at  the  University  of  Alcala.  Moreover,  there 
is  much  doubt  concerning  the  exact  dates  of  many  known  events  in  his 
life.  When  was  he  camarero  to  Cardinal  Acquaviva  ?  When  did  he 
enlist  in  the  army  ?  We  find  that  in  1569,  at  the  age  of  22,  he  was 
living  in  Rome.  As  camarero  to  the  Cardinal  ?  Cervantes's  father, 
however,  states  (in  a  document  still  preserved)  that  his  son  was  a 
soldier  in  1568.  If  this  be  true  it  leaves  no  room  for  Cervantes's 
services  in  the  Cardinal's  household,  for  Acquaviva  did  not  quit  Madrid 
till  December  2,  1568. 

We  are  therefore  at  sea  concerning  the  date  of  Cervantes's  enlistment. 
We  only  know  that  he  joined  the  army  before  the  autumn  of  1570 ;  that 
he  fought  valiantly  against  the  Turk  ;  and  that  he  was  thrice  wounded 
on  that  fateful  October  7,  1571,  at  Lepanto,  which  Cervantes  proudly 
called  *  the  grandest  occasion  the  past  or  present  has  seen  or  the  future 
can  hope  to  see.'  Concerning  the  period  subsequent  to  Cervantes's 
return  from  his  Algerine  captivity,  December  18,  1580,  we  are  now 
somewhat  better  informed.  Sometime  between  the  close  of  1583,  when 
he  had  finished  his  pastoral  romance,  the  Galatea,  and  the  spring  of 
1587  when  he  entered  on  the  King's  commission  as  a  commissary  for  the 
Armada — Cervantes  was  writing  those  plays  for  the  public  stage  which 
he  assures  us  were  so  successful  and  which  escaped  the  showers  of 
pepinos  with  which  the  mosqueteros  gave  palpable  evidence  of  their  dis- 
approval. And  though  Cervantes  longed  for  the  plaudits  of  the  pit, 
nature  had  not  intended  him  for  a  playwright,  and  with  the  advent  of 
Lope  de  Vega  he  admits  that  this  vocation,  too,  was  gone,  and  he  cast 
about  for  some  permanent  employment.  As  Professor  Fitzmaurice-Kelly 
says  :  '  He  was  learning  that,  as  a  means  of  livelihood,  the  pen  is  even 


Reviews  423 

feebler  than  the  sword  :  it  was  a  lesson  that  he  learned  slowly  and 
unwillingly.'  Cervantes  became  a  purveyor  for  the  Armada  and  sub- 
sequently was  employed  to  collect  the  King's  taxes.  But  we  cannot 
follow  Professor  Fitzmaurice-Kelly  through  this  long  and  wretched 
story,  in  which  we  find  Cervantes  in  and  out  of  gaol  for  various  indis- 
cretions. The  whole  narrative  of  his  subsequent  life  is  one  of  squalid 
misery — living  constantly  from  hand  to  mouth.  Even  in  1605,  after  the 
publication  of  the  first  part  of  the  Don  Quixote,  when  the  name  of  the 
Manchegan  Knight  was  on  every  tongue,  we  find  Cervantes  living  in  a 
tenement  in  the  Calle  del  Rasiro  in  Valladolid — in  one  of  the  poorest 
quarters  of  the  city,  near  the  public  slaughter-houses.  Nor  was  fortune 
more  kind  to  him  after  his  death :  buried  in  the  convent  of  the  bare- 
footed Trinitarian  nuns  in  the  Calle  de  Cantarranas  at  Madrid,  no  stone 
marks  his  grave,  which  can  no  longer  be  identified. 

A  word  may  be  said  concerning  the  portrait  of  Cer\*antes  in  this 
volume.  The  original  was  discovered  in  1911,  and  now  hangs  on  the 
falls  of  the  Royal  Spanish  Academy.  It  bears  the  name  of  the  painter 
[uan  de  laurigui,  and  the  date  1600.  Professor  Fitzmaurice-Kelly 
shows  how  extremely  doubtful  is  the  attribution  of  this  portrait  to 
Jauregui,  who  was,  so  far  as  we  know  at  present,  between  15  and  17 
years  old  in  1600.  In  other  words  the  statement :  'there  is  no  authentic 
portrait  of  Cervantes '  is,  in  all  probability,  still  true. 

In  conclusion,  this  Memoir  of  Cervantes  is,  in  every  way,  an  admir- 
able piece  of  work  :  it  is  a  stern  record  of  facts,  which  the  student  may 
consult  with  absolute  confidence,  because  the  testimony  is  sifted  by  a 
scholar  of  incontestable  competency. 

HUGO  A.  RENNERT. 

PHILADELPHIA,  PENN.  U.S.A. 


San  Bernardino  of  Siena.  By  A.  G.  FERRERS  HOWELL.  With  a 
chapter  on  S.  Bernardino  in  Art  by  JULIA  CARTWRIGHT  (MRS 
ADY).  London:  Methuen  and  Co.  1913.  8vo.  xvi  +  373pp. 

This  book  tells  the  story  of  a  great  preacher.  Soon  after  the  death 
of  S.  Francis  in  1226  sects  aijpse  within  the  Franciscan  order.  Dante 
(Par.  xii.  124)  blames  equally  Ubertino  of  Casale,  the  leader  of  the 
Zealots  or  Spiritual  Franciscans,  and  Matthew  of  Acquasparta,  the  leader 
of  the  Conventuals  or  laxer  party.  Mr  Howell  traces  the  history  of  the 
dispute  through  the  troubled  days  of  the  Avignonese  popes  and  the 
great  schism.  S.  Bernardino  was  born  in  1380,  and  was  therefore  '  in 
the  middle  of  life's  journey'  when  that  picturesque  condottiere  Pope 
John  XXIII  was  deposed  by  the  Council  of  Constance  in  1415.  When 
the  Saint  died  in  1444  a  reformation  of  the  Franciscans  had  been 
effected  by  his  piety  and  influence,  and  a  revival  of  religion  had  taken 
place  throughout  Italy. 

In  the  north  of  Europe  at  this  time  religion  found  mystical  expres- 
sion in  the  products  of  the  cloister,  such  as  the  Imitatio  Christi,  while 


424  Reviews 

in  the  south  there  were  great  popular  preachers  who  produced  a  mighty 
if  transient  impression.  San  Bernardino  journeyed  from  city  to  city,  and 
wherever  he  went  crowds  thronged  to  listen  to  him.  His  attractive 
saintly  personality  and  winning  eloquence  stirred  and  swayed  his 
hearers.  Talami  or  bonfires  of  vanities  were  set  up  as  they  were  fifty 
years  later  in  Savonarola's  time.  Long-standing  feuds  were  healed  and 
enemies  reconciled.  His  sermons  must  have  been  most  interesting  to 
listen  to.  The  framework  of  the  sermon  had  been  most  carefully  thought 
out,  articulated  and  written  down.  He  preached  with  intense  earnestness. 
Religion  was  to  him  the  one  thing  which  mattered;  and  he  enforced  its 
lessons  in  direct  practical  appeal. 

A  representation  of  the  sacred  monogram  which  he  loved  to  display 
may  still  be  seen,  emblazoned  in  bronze  on  a  blue  ground,  -on  the  topmost 
story  of  the  Palazzo  Pubblico  overlooking  the  Piazza  del  Campo,  in 
which  the  saint  so  often  preached,  at  Siena. 

The  beautiful  little  oratory  dedicated  to  him  at  Perugia  and  the 
series  of  frescoes  of  incidents  in  his  life  painted  by  Pinturicchio  in 
S.  Maria  in  Aracoeli,  in  Rome,  are  well  known.  These  and  many 
other  memorials  are  well  described  by  Mrs  Ady,  whose  chapter  on 
S.  Bernardino  in  Art  adds  much  to  the  value  of  this  scholarly  and 
interesting  book. 

Mr  Howell's  study  has  been  a  labour  of  love,  and  S.  Bernardino 
deserves  all  the  care  which  has  been  bestowed  upon  him. 

The  saint's  humility,  attractiveness  and  gaiety  remind  one  of 
S.  Francis,  and  by  bringing  back  the  Franciscan  order  two  hundred 
years  after  the  founder's  death  to  .their  early  ideals,  he  became  the 
second  founder  of  the  Friars  Minor, 

JOHN  T.  MITCHELL. 

WAVERTREE,  LIVERPOOL. 


Shaftesburys  Einfluss  auf  Chr.  M.  Wieland.  Mit  einer  Einleitung  uber 
den  Einfluss  Shaftesbarys  auf  die  deutsche  Literatur  bis  1760.  Von 
HERBERT  GRUDZINSKI.  (Breslauer  Beitrdge  zur  Literaturgeschichte, 
xxxiv.)  Stuttgart :  J.  B.  Metzler.*  1913.  8vo.  xii  +143  pp. 

Wieland  and  Shaftesbury.  By  CHARLES  ELSON.  (Columbia  University 
Germanic  Studies.)  New  York:  Columbia  University  Press.  1913. 
8vo.  xii  +  143  pp. 

Wieland  occupies  a  peculiar  position  among  the  German  classical 
poets  in  so  far  as  he  has  been  almost  more  extensively  '  written  round ' 
than  any  of  his  contemporaries,  but  has  not  yet  been  made  the  theme 
of  a  biography  worthy  of  the  name.  His  life  and  works  are  a  favourite 
hunting-ground  for  the  young  '  doctorand,'  and  we  are  liberally,  perhaps 
over-liberally,  supplied  with  studies  on  Wieland's  relations  to  this  writer 
and  to  that,  and  on  special  aspects  of  his  life.  Strange  to  say,  however,  no 
one,  until  quite  recently,  has  thought  of  providing  us  with  a  monograph 


Reviews  425 

on  his  relations  to  Shaftesbury,  all  the  stranger  with  Goethe's  famous 
apophthegm  staring  us  in  the  face  that  Wieland  was  the  '  twin-brother ' 
of  the  English  thinker.  The  two  dissertations  before  us  were  written 
independently  of  each  other,  and  are  to  a  certain  extent  supplementary. 
The  German  author  casts  his  net  wider  and  introduces  his  special 
investigation  with  a  sketch  of  Shaftesbury's  influence  in  Germany 
before  1760;  the  American  restricts  himself  more  strictly  to  his  theme. 
Dr  Grudzinski  is,  no  doubt,  right,  when  he  states  that  the  influence 
of  Shaftesbury  on  English  literature  has  not  yet  been  estimated  at  its 
full  value ;  but  his  own  indications  as  to  where  this  influence  is  to  be 
sought,  do  not  carry  us  any  farther  than  we  were  before  ;  and  his  section 
on  Shaftesbury's  successors  in  England  is  exceedingly  meagre.  The 
strength  of  his  work  lies  in  his  wide  and  just  survey  of  Shaftesbury's 
influence  in  Germany.  He  shows  how  the  anti- metaphysical  strain  in 
Shaftesbury's  thought  blended  with  the  general  tendencies  of  the 
'  Auf  klarung '  and  prepared  the  way  for  new  developments ;  and,  while 
realising  the  difficulties  of  keeping  apart  the  philosophy  of  Leibniz  and 
Shaftesbury,  he  clearly  sees  that  it  was  just  in  the  fusion  of  these  two 
systems  that  the  basis  was  obtained  on  which  the  whole  fabric  of 
'humane  classicism'  in  Germany  was  erected.  The  work  of  Goethe 
and  Schiller  would  have  been  impossible,  or,  let  us  say,  much  more 
Latin  in  character,  without  that  striving  towards  a  harmony  between 
life  and  poetry  which  came  direct  from  the  English  philosopher ; 
Schiller's  plea  for  the  perfectibility  of  the  race  through  the  instrument 
of  the  beautiful,  a  plea  set  up  in  contrast  to  the  harsher  ideals  of  the 
Kantian  philosophy,  is  unthinkable  without  Shaftesbury. 

In  matters  of  detail  Dr  Grudzinski  has  much  to  say  that  is  valuable  ; 
he  puts  old  facts  in  a  new  light  and  gives  a  truer  picture  of  the  precise 
character  of  Shaftesbury's  influence  in  Germany.  He  denies,  for  instance, 
that  that  influence  is  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  the  Swiss  critics 
published  in  the  early  forties ;  and  we  might  suggest  that  such  points 
of  contact  as  have  been  shown  to  exist,  might  be  explained  by  reference 
to  older  Italian  aesthetic  ideas,  which,  if  we  are  not  mistaken,  have  also- 
left  their  traces  on  Shaftesbury's  speculation.  On  the  other  hand, 
Dr  Grudzinski  lays  more  stress  than  has  hitherto  been  done  on  the 
influence  of  Shaftesbury  on  Gellert. 

We  miss  in  Dr  Elson's  discussion  of  general  matters  the  sense  for 
proportional  values  which  we  have  praised  in  the  German  dissertation ; 
and  this,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that,  in  his  general  account  of 
Shaftesbury's  philosophy,  he  relies — for  a  nori- German  writer  we  cannot 
but  add  unduly — on  German  sources  of  information.  He  fails,  it  seems 
to  us,  to  lay  sufficient  emphasis  on  just  those  aspects  of  Shaftesbury's 
thought — his  aesthetic  theory,  for  instance,  and  the  specific  questions 
involved  in  the  term  'enthusiasm' — which  played  so  large  a  rdle  in 
Germany.  On  the  other  hand,  Dr  Elson  gives  us  a  much  more  detailed 
and  careful  investigation  than  Dr  Grudzinski  into  the  data  illustrating 
the  English  philosopher's  influence  on  Wieland ;  his  work  seems  to  us 
in  this  respect  well-nigh  exhaustive,  and  it  is  marked  by  discrimination 

M.  L.  R.  IX.  -28 


426  Reviews 

and  good  taste ;  the  indebtedness  of  Wieland  to  Shaftesbury  is  here,  we 
feel,  settled  once  and  for  all.  Wieland,  such  are  the  general  conclusions 
to  which  we  are  brought,  probably  came  under  Shaftesbury 's  influence 
as  early  as  1752 ;  from  1755  onwards  that  influence  became  a  factor  of 
the  first  importance  in  his  life ;  and  1758  was  the  year  of  his  most 
intensive  preoccupation  with  the  English  philosopher.  It  was  to 
Shaftesbury  more  than  to  any  other  force  that  was  due  that  great 
crisis  in  Wieland's  spiritual  life  which  induced  him,  towards  the  end 
of  the  fifties,  to  forsake  the  'atherischen  Spharen'  for  more  earthly  paths. 

J.  G.  ROBERTSON. 
LONDON. 


West-Eastern  Divan.  By  JOHANN  WOLFGANG  VON  GOETHE.  In  Twelve 
Books.  Translated  by  EDWARD  DOWDEN.  London :  J.  M.  Dent 
and  Sons.  1914.  8vo.  xvi  +  195  pp. 

Wilhelm  Meisters  Theatrical  Mission.  By  JOHANN  WOLFGANG  VON 
GOETHE.  Translated  by  GREGORY  A.  PAGE.  With  Introduction 
by  HARRY  MAYNC.  London :  William  Heinemann.  1913.  8vo. 
xxxiv  +  342  pp. 

Dowden's  version  of  Goethe's  Divan  is  remarkably  good.  It  reveals 
what  is  a  rather  rare  combination  in  English  translations,  accurate 
German  scholarship,  scrupulous  fidelity  to  the  original  and  great  metrical 
skill.  The  ingenuity  with  which  he  imitates  a  metrical  form  and  com- 
pletes a  complicated  system  of  rhymes  without  having  recourse  to  the 
usual  grotesque  padding,  paraphrasing  or  omission,  excites  a  feeling  of 
admiration,  if  not  of  envy.  The  metre  is  not  always  exactly  the  same 
as  in  Goethe,  but  the  content  and  frequently,  too,  the  flavour  of  the 
original  are  skilfully  transmitted.  There  are  few  slips.  Gebannt  in  I,  17 
means  '  spellbound/  not  '  exiled.'  '  Destructions '  in  v,  5  is  a  misprint 
for  'distinctions '  probably,  and  '  all-lessening '  in  vni,  51  for  '  all- 
lessoning.'  Only  the  difficult  passage  in  xn,  12  is  wrongly  rendered : 

Derm  ein  Pfeiler,  durchgegraben, 
Fiihrt  zu  scharfbenarnsten  Schatzen, 

*  For  a  pillar,  all-engraven,  points  to  treasure  that  lies  hidden.'  On  the 
other  hand,  translations  like  ill,  3  and  vii,  10  are  well-nigh  perfect.  In 
the  Poems,  a  collateral  volume,  we  find  renderings  of  some  of  Goethe's 
early  pieces,  but,  as  Mrs  Dowden  points  out  in  the  Introduction,  which 
is  a  model  of  grace  and  literary  taste,  they  were  never  corrected  by  the 
author.  '  Name '  on  p.  231  should  probably  be  '  Home.'  These  transla- 
tions were  well  worth  publishing.  They  are  of  the  few  that  may  be 
recommended  to  the  student  or  the  general  public. 

In  a  prose  translation  the  task  is  much  easier,  yet  we  have  little 
reason  to  boast  of  our  renderings  of  the  German  classics.  Page's  book 
is  characteristic.  There  are  many  happy  translations,  the  work  is  not 
bad,  but  we  feel  that  it  might  have  been  so  much  better.  The  misprint, 


Reviews  427 

in  two  places,  of  the  name  of  a  well-known  German  professor,  who  con- 
tributes the  Introduction,  is  a  case  in  point.  In  the  text,  again,  there 
are  many  errors,  which  a  competent  reviser  would  have  noted  at  once. 
Ein  paar  Kasten  (i,  5)  does  not  mean  '  two  dressers.'  Schauspiel  (i,  5) 
is  rendered  '  tragedy,'  though  called  eine  Komodie  a  few  lines  back. 
Krahen  are  not  'cranes,'  nor  Naturgefilhl  'native  feeling.'  Englisch,  in 
I,  20,  does  not  mean  'English  '  but  'angelic.'  There  is  nothing  typically 
English  in  a  white  night-gown.  In  i,  21  the  words  was  nach  seiner 
bisherigen  Bestimmung  schmeckte  von  Buchern  und  sonst  are  wrongly 
rendered,  '  whatever,  according  to  his  previous  opinion,  savoured  of 
books  and  the  like.'  Sich  zu  vergleichen  (n,  2)  means  'to  come  to  an 
agreement,'  not  '  to  compare  each  other.'  '  Imagery  '  (ii,  2)  should  be 
'  image.'  Eine  Fdhrte  (ii,  3)  cannot  mean  '  a  cart ' — a  mistake  made  by 
Carlyle  too — but  '  one  track  '  or  '  one  scent.'  Mit  dem  Rocken  (ii,  3) 
means  '  with  the  distaff,'  not  '  with  her  skirt.'  The  note  on  p.  89  is  inept, 
as  Schreibtafel  here  means  '  note-book,'  as  might  be  expected,  certainly 
not  '  writing-desk.'  In  III,  8 :  '  while  the  Directress  declared  '  should 
be  '  while  he  declared  to  the  Directress.'  '  On  her  stool '  (TV,  9)  should 
be  '  close  to  his  chair.'  '  The  smallest  thing  that  happens  can  be  seen  ' 
(iv,  9)  should  read,  '  Very  little  that  happens.'  '  With  our  hero  '  (iv,  12) 
should  be  '  against  our  hero.'  Thus  the  sense  is  perverted  right  and 
left.  In  V,  3,  'But  it  was  not  much  longer'  is  just  the  reverse  of  es 
wdhrte  noch  lange  and  der  ihr  nicht  passte  (vi,  1)  becomes  '  which  suited 
her  well.'  '  Gottinger  students  '  is  not  English,  and  the  German  idiom, 
'  What  were  not  the  Germans  ! '  sounds  equally  harsh.  These  errors — 
and  more  might  be  added — must  be  noted  with  regret,  for  the  Ur-meister 
is  of  great  interest,  even  to  those  who  read  Goethe  only  in  translations. 
The  philological  interest  of  the  original,  as  an  example  of  Goethe's  early 
prose  style,  naturally  disappears.  But  much  remains.  There  are  more 
detailed  reminiscences  of  Goethe's  youth  and  a  fuller  account  of  his 
attitude  towards  the  eighteenth  century  drama,  especially  of  his  own 
earlier  efforts  in  this  field.  The  discussion  of  Corneille's  discourse  on 
'  The  Three  Unities  '  is  especially  interesting  ;  so,  too,  the  enquiry  into 
the  origin  of  our  pleasure  in  the  drama.  The  stages  in  the  growth  of 
the  novel — and  the  pruning  too — are  now  clearly  revealed,  and  the  list 
of  Goethe's  characters  is  increased  by  two. 

JOHN  LEES. 
ABERDEEN. 


Phonetic  Spelling.  A  Proposed  Universal  Alphabet  for  the  rendering 
of  English,  French,  German  and  all  other  Forms  of  Speech.  By 
Sir  HARRY  JOHNSTON.  Cambridge  :  University  Press.  1913.  8vo. 
pp.  vi  +  92. 

The  object  of  the  alphabet  explained  in  this  book  is  twofold.  It  is 
an  attempt  to  solve  the  immediate  practical  problem  of  the  transcrip- 
tion of  African  and  other  languages  for  the  explorer  and  the  missionary, 

28—2 


428  Reviews 

and  to  devise  a  phonetic  notation  which  may  in  time  be  adopted  uni- 
versally. The  two  problems  seem  to  be  essentially  different  and  to  call 
for  separate  treatment.  It  is  obvious  that  many  things  which  would  be 
admitted  into  a  notation  which  is  to  be  mainly  utilitarian  and  practical 
would  be  undesirable  in  the  more  ambitious  scheme  of  a  universal  script, 
and  conversely  that  a  universal  alphabet  would  be  too  elaborate  for  the 
special  purpose  in  question. 

Another  fact  that  will  lessen  the  value  of  this  alphabet  is  that 
it  is  based  on  the  standard  forms  of  each  particular  language,  and  dis- 
regards dialectal  variations  to  a  very  large  extent.  One  of  the  most 
fruitful  uses  to  which  a  phonetic  notation  can  be  put  is  to  record 
the  facts  of  dialect  speech,  and  a  system  which  does  not  provide  the 
means  to  do  this  will  hardly  commend  itself  for  general  use  to  the 
philologist. 

The  notation  that  the  author  advocates  seems  to  offend  against 
phonetic  principles  in  several  ways.  In  the  specimen  on  p.  49  I  find 
the  following  points :  (1)  The  same  symbol  (d)  is  used  for  two  different 
sounds  in  '  fiksd,'  fixed  and  '  stsendad,'  standard.  (2)  Double  letters  are 
retained  in  certain  words  to  represent  a  single  sound,  in  other  cases 
a  single  letter  is  used.  Compare  'lettoz,'  letters,  'spellin,'  spelling, 
'  pozessez,'  possesses  and  '  wil,'  will.  (3)  The  sound  which  in  the  speech 
of  most  people  is  the  'unstressed'  vowel  8  is  represented  in  three 
different  ways.  First,  the  symbol  o  is  used  in  the  words  'pyuoli/ 
purely,  'lettoz/  letters,  'yib'z,'  years.  This  is  the  same  symbol  as  the 
author  uses  in  the  words  '  fost,'  first,  '  wodz,'  words.  Secondly,  certain 
words  have  the  symbol  a  which  is  used  for  the  vowel  in  '  sam/  some, 
'  wan,'  one,  '  ap,'  up.  Examples  are  '  akyut,'  acute,  '  andar,'  under, 
'  stsendad,'  standard.  Thirdly,  a  number  of  words  retain  their  original 
vowel,  e.g.  '  sistem,'  system,  '-iven,'  even,  '  kaersektor,'  character,  '  piriod,' 
period.  This  threefold  representation  does  not  seem  to  correspond  to 
any  real  distinction  in  speech. 

It  is  to  be  feared  that  the  alphabet  will  not  achieve  the  purpose  of 
its  author.  At  the  same  time  we  are  indebted  to  him  for  a  welcome 
contribution  to  a  very  important  and  very  practical  problem.  Not  the 
least  important  result  of  the  adoption  of  such  an  alphabet  would  be,  as 
the  author  points  out,  the  immense  gain  to  students  of  non-European 
languages  in  being  able  to  work  at  such  languages  in  a  Latin  script.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  the  late  Dr  Sweet  in  his  Practical  Study  of 
Languages  advocates  the  same  thing,  and  it  is  time  that  the  fetish  of 
the  necessity  of  studying  these  languages  in  their  native  characters  was 
abandoned.  The  gain  to  culture  would  be  very  great. 

HENRY  ALEXANDER. 

GLASGOW. 


Minor  Notices 


MINOR   NOTICES. 

We  welcome  the  publication  of  a  second  edition  of  Professor 
Sedgefield's  edition  of  Beowulf  (Manchester  University  Press,  1913). 
Considerable  changes  have  been  made,  as  the  result  of  criticism  and 
of  the  editor's  own  experience  in  using  the  book  in  class,  and  the 
result  is  a  decided  improvement.  A  considerable  part  of  the  intro- 
duction has  been  rewritten,  with  reference  partly  to  recently  published 
books,  such  as  Professor  Chadwick's  Heroic  Age,  and  a  fuller  and  better 
account  is  given  especially  of  the  probable  origin  of  the  poem  and  of 
the  historical  or  legendary  subject-matter,  together  with  a  sounder  criti- 
cism of  the  supposed  mythical  elements.  There  is  here  a  good  deal  of 
matter  added,  and  greater  clearness  of  exposition  resulting  from  rear- 
rangement. In  the  text  the  long  vowels  and  diphthongs  have  now 
been  marked  throughout,  and  a  good  many  of  the  conjectural  emenda- 
tions which  in  the  first  edition  were  introduced  into  the  text  have  now 
been  either  discarded  or  relegated  to  the  notes;  as  for  example  in 
11.  204,  414,  991,  1107,  1543,  2766.  In  some  instances,  however,  new 
emendations  are  substituted,  as  11.  304  and  489,  in  the  latter  case,  as 
it  seems,  without  adequate  justification,  indeed  the  new  and  rather 
startling  suggestion  which  is  here  introduced  into  the  text  is  hardly 
even  discussed.  The  notes  have  been  revised  and  added  to,  and  in 
the  glossary  'a  number  of  Germanic,  especially  Gothic,  parallel  forms 
have  been  included.'  A  summary  of  the  story  of  Grettir  Asmundarson 
is  added  now  as  an  appendix ;  and  this  reminds  us  that  the  chief  thing 
that  we  still  require  in  this  edition  is  a  fuller  treatment  of  the  relation 
between  the  Beowulf  story  and  the  Scandinavian  sagas  which  either  in 
general  or  in  various  details  resemble  it. 


Mr  H.  D.  Austin's  thesis,  Accredited  Citations  in  Ristoro  D'Arezzo's 
Composizione  del  Hondo,  a  Study  of  Sources  (Johns  Hopkins  University 
Dissertation,  1911),  lays  before  us  the  results  of  long  and  careful  re- 
searches in  a  field  that  has  not  been  too  often  explored.  Many  a 
difficult  question  has  been  solved  with  such  scholarly  acumen  that 
we  look  forward  to  the  book  on  Ristoro's  sources,  for  which  the  present 
thesis  is  a  preparation,  in  the  hope  that  the  book  will  throw  light  on 
a  wider  problem  which  concerns  all  students  of  the  later  Middle  Ages 
and  especially  all  students  of  Dante.  It  is  possible  that  Dante  was 
acquainted  with  the  Composizione,  but  Dante  scholars  regard  Ristoro  not 
merely  as  a  secondary  source  for  the  poet's  scientific  information,  but 
also  as  a  writer  who  lived  in  Dante's  time  and  studied  in  conditions  not 
widely  different  from  those  in  which  Alighieri  was  himself. 

We  learn  from  this  thesis  that  a  number  of  quotations  from  Ptolemy, 
Abu  Mansur,  Sedulius  and  possibly  even  from  Aristotle  were  introduced 
by  Ristoro  without  any  direct  knowledge  of  these  authors'  works.  Such 


430  Minor  Notices 

conclusions  justify  the  attitude  of  modern  scholars  who  are  chary  in 
attributing  a  wide  range  of  learning  to  mediaeval  writers.  Books  were 
scarce  and  difficult  of  access ;  hence  we  can  never  be  too  careful  in 
admitting  that  Ristoro  or  Dante  or  any  other  of  their  contemporaries 
knew  any  of  even  the  standard  works  of  their  own  days.  Compilations 
such  as  Isidore's  Origines,  which  Mr  Austin  thinks  was  probably  known 
to  Ristoro,  provided  students  with  information  and  with  quotations,  and 
students  in  the  Middle  Ages  felt  no  scruples  in  making  use  of  such 
compilations  without  any  direct  reference  to  the  sources.  Its  scholarly 
method,  its  careful  research,  and  its  far-reaching  indirect  results,  lend 
a  special  interest  to  this  thesis. 

C.  F. 


Dr  J.  E.  Gillet  writes  to  us  from  the  University  of  Wisconsin  as 
follows:  'In  your  issue  of  January  1914  there  appears  (pp.  127-131) 
a  review  of  my  study  of  Aloliere  en  Angleterre,  1660-1670.  Whilst 
pointing  out  a  few  small  errors  which  I  admit,  the  writer  ignores  the 
positive  features  of  my  study  (the  conclusion  and  the  appendices 
excepted  !)  and,  with  much  quoting  of  texts,  conveys  the  impression 
that  the  work  is  inaccurate  and  dishonest.  The  following  statements 
will  bring  out  the  misleading  nature  of  his  review. 

The  reviewer  insinuates  that  I  am  too  reticent  as  to  my  authorities. 
There  is  not  a  word  in  my  book  which  would  lead  readers  to  infer  that 
the  list  of  borrowings  from  Moliere  is  solely  due  to  my  efforts.  Every 
predecessor  in  the  field  is  mentioned  in  the  preface.  Mr  Van  Laun  is 
given  due  credit.  The  amount  of  consideration  due  to  Mr  Kerby  or 
Mr  Jellie  is  a  matter  of  personal  opinion.  "  The  truth,"  says  your 
reviewer,  "is  that,  in  many  a  case,  M.  Gillet  has  omitted  to  acknow- 
ledge what  he  necessarily  owes  to  his  authorities."  There  are  but  three 
insignificant  references  to  Langbaine  in  the  chapter  on  An  Evening's 
Love  (p.  129).  Yet  on  p.  89  I  refer  to  the  very  page  of  Langbaine 
which  your  reviewer  quotes  as  a  proof  of  reticence.  In  my  introduction 
reference  is  made  to  Langbaine  whom  I  endeavoured — not  to  reprint, 
but — to  complete  and  correct.  My  success  may  be  tested  by  turning 
to  what  Langbaine,  quoted  at  length  by  your  reviewer,  says  "with 
some  precision  "  about  An  Evening's  Love.  He  mentions  Corneille,  and 
two  plays  of  Moliere's,  from  both  of  which  the  following  borrowings 
are  given :  1.  Les  Precieuses  Ridicules  (no  further  indication).  2.  Le 
Depit  Amoureusc,  ii,  6.  3.  Ib.,  i,  2.  4.  Ib.,  iv,  3-4.  I  restrict  and 
specify  1,  complete  4  and  increase  the  list  by  two  borrowings  from  Le 
Depit  Amoureux.  I  correct  Van  Laun's,  Scott's  and  Jellie's  statements 
with  regard  to  this  play,  and  refer  to  traces  in  four  other  plays  of 
Moliere's.  I  again  correct  Langbaine's  reference  to  Le  Depit  Amoureux, 
iv,  4.  He  mentions  Shakespeare ;  I  acknowledge  it  (p.  89,  n.  1)  and 
point  out  the  trace,  besides  indicating  a  reminiscence  from  Ben  Jonson's 
Epicoene.  Langbaine  mentions  Petronius,  and  this  is  acknowledged  on 
p.  89,  n.  10.  I  mention  Mile,  de  Scudery  and  give  Mrs  Pepys  due 


Minor  Notices 


431 


credit  for  having  also  noticed  the  likeness  between  the  play  and 
Ibrahim.  So  much  for  An  Evening's  Love.  Your  reviewer's  remarks 
about  Sir  Martin  Mar-all  could  be  met  in  the  same  way.  I  admit  an 
error  in  charging  Langbaine  with  a  wrong  reference  to  The  Fine  Com- 
panion (p.  60,  n.  3) ;  but  as  the  right  one  is  given,  this  may  appear 
pardonable.  Your  reviewer  proceeds  to  cite  what  he  sneeringly  calls 
"  one  more  instance  of  first-hand  knowledge  and  accurate  scholarship.'" 
The  sentence  about  Ravenscroft  I  admit  to  be  ambiguous,  but  I  fail  to 
see  why  the  reviewer  should  imply  that  the  statement  was  borrowed 
from  Van  Laun  without  acknowledgment.  The  Toiler  and  Cunning- 
ham's Nell  Gwyn,  quoted  by  me,  are  surely  sufficient  authority.  Even 
reviewers  are  not  infallible.  Your  reviewer  charges  me  with  "  an  error 
of  judgment "  "tacked  on  to  an  error  of  fact"  (p.  130)  in  connection  with 
my  statement  that  the  Royal  Society,  a  few  years  after  its  inception, 
lost  its  touch  with  literature  and  became  strictly  scientific  (p.  15). 
Where  is  the  error  of  judgment  ?  Where  the  error  of  fact  ?  Can  it  be 
that  your  reviewer  confuses  the  Royal  Society  with  the  Royal  Society 
of  Literature  ?  I  maintain  my  claim  to  have  verified  and  completed 
the  accounts  given  of  the  subject  by  previous  scholars ;  and  to  have 
synthetized,  restricted,  ignored  or  (in  almost  every  case,  silently)  cor- 
rected hundreds  of  statements.  The  foot-notes  would  have  swamped 
the  text,  had  I  pointed  out  every  error  of  commission  (and  especially  of 
omission)  to  be  found  in  all  my  predecessors.  Your  reviewer  calls  me 
a  failure  in  criticism,  but  his  gratuitous  assertion  does  not  amount  to 
proof.  I  waive  his  accusation  of  cruelty  to  the  language ;  were  it  true, 
the  Journal  des  Debats  would  scarcely  have  filled  a  long  and  apprecia- 
tive feuilleton  (September  22,  1913)  with  passages  almost  paraphrased 
from  my  work.  Nor  would  the  Royal  Academy  of  Belgium  have 
published  it.  On  the  whole,  this  high-handed  piece  of  criticism  (or 
shall  I  say  attack  ?)  brings  out  less  than  half  a  dozen  minor  slips1.  I 
am  glad  that  they  have  been  pointed  out,  however  ungraciously ;  they 
are  usually  mentioned  as  a  mere  appendix  to  real  criticism.  Even  your 
reviewer  admits  that  the  conclusions  of  the  work  are  sound,  the  appen- 
dices "  indispensable."  Why,  then,  should  he  take  advantage  of  a  few 
small  mistakes  to  draw  sweeping  conclusions  about  author  and  work, 
and  place  them  both  in  a  false  light  ?  I  have  myself  had  occasion  to 
review  the  book  on  Moliere  in  England  which  preceded  mine  (e.g., 
Contemporary  Review,  Literary  Supplement,  March,  1913)  and  to  point 
out  in  it  a  number  of  slips ;  but  I  should  be  sorry  indeed  had  those 
shortcomings  tempted  me  to  adopt  the  acid  and  overweening  tone  of 
your  reviewer.' 

1  The  text  referred  to  on  p.  49  was  cut  out  after  the  reference  had  been  printed ;  on 
p.  225,  n.  1,  after  '  anglais '  the  words  'et  public '  were  accidentally  omitted ;  on  p.  40  the 
fact  that  I  had  just  stated  Flecknoe's  nationality  led  me  to  write  '  irlandais '  instead  of 
'  anglais.' 


NEW   PUBLICATIONS. 
April — June  1914. 

GENERAL. 

CRAWFORD,  R.,  Plague  and  Pestilence  in  Literature  and  Art.  Oxford, 
Clarendon  Press.  12s.  Qd.  net. 

KALFF,  G.,  Inleiding  tot  de  studie  der  literatuurgeschiedenis.  Haarlem, 
H.  D.  Tjeenk  Willink.  4  fl.  50. 

LASSERRE,  P.,  Portraits  et  discussions.  A.  Comte,  Chateaubriand,  Stendhal, 
le  'Faust'  de  Goethe,  Ruskin,  Carlyle,  Mistral  etc.  Paris,  Mercure  de 
France.  3  fr.  50. 

LEVI,  E.,  Storia  poetica  di  Don  Carlos.     Pavia,  Mattei.     5  L. 
LEVRAULT,  L.,  Le  genre  pastoral,  son  evolution.     Paris,  Delaplane.     75  c. 

MURET,  M.,  Les  contemporains  etrangers.  Nouvelle  serie.  L.  Reymont, 
Th.  Mann,  Mark  Twain,  L.  Corradini,  F.  Dostoiewsky,  S.  Michaelis, 
L.  Tolstoi,  B.  Bjornson,  J.  V.  Jensen.  Paris,  Fontemoing.  3  fr.  50. 

WINTHER,  F.,  Das  gerettete  Venedig.  Eine  vergleichende  Studie.  (Univ.  of 
California  Publications,  in,  2.)  Berkeley,  Univ.  of  California  Press. 
1  dol.  50. 

ROMANCE   LANGUAGES. 

Bibliotheca  romanica.  205.  La  petite  Bourgeoize.  Poeme  satirique  de  1'an 
1610.  206,  207.  Metastasio,  Opere.  Ezio.  208—210.  Juan  del  Enema, 
Representaciones.  211,  212.  Ugo  Foscolo,  Opere.  Ultime  lettere  di 
Jacopo  Ortis.  213.  Ugo  Foscolo,  Opere.  Dei  sepolcri.  Le  grazie. 
Strassburg,  J.  H.  E.  Heitz.  Each  number  40  pf. 


Italian. 


BALBO,  C.,  Sommario  della  storia  d'  Italia,  a  cura  di  F.  Nicolini.  u.  (Scrittori 
d'  Italia,  LX.)  Bari,  G.  Laterza.  5  L.  50. 

BALDI,  B.,  Gli  epigrammi  inediti,  gli  apologhi  e  le  egloghe,  a  cura  di  D. 
Ciampoli.  i,  n.  (Scrittori  nostri,  XLIV,  XLV.)  Lanciano,  R.  Carabba. 
2  L. 

BISI,  A.,  L'ltalie  et  le  romantisme  fran9ais.  Milan,  Soc.  editr.  Dante  Alighieri. 
6  L. 

BOCCHIA,  E.,  La  drammatica  a  Parma,  1400—1900.    Parma,  L.  Battei.    2  L  50. 

CLAUDIO,  L.,  S.  Domenico  e  la  sua  leggenda  in  rapporto  a  Dante.  Molfetta, 
G.  Panunzio.  3  L.  50. 

DANTE  ALIGHIERI,  La  Divina  Commedia,  commentata  da  G.  A.  Scartazzini. 
7a  ediz.,  rifatta  da  G.  Vandelli.  (Biblioteca  letteraria.)  Milan,  Hoepli. 
4  L.  50. 

DEGLI  ARIENTI,  S.,  Le  Porretane,  a  cura  di  G.  Gambarin.  (Scrittori  d'  Italia, 
LXVI.)  Bari,  G.  Laterza.  5  L.  50. 


New  Publications  433 

Fiore  di  leggende:    cantari  antichi   editi   e   ordinati   da  E.   Levi.     (Scrittori 
d'  Italia,  LXIV.)     Bari,  G.  Laterza.     5  L.  50. 

FOLENGO,  T.,  Opere  italiane,  a  cura  di  U.   Renda.     n.     (Scrittori  d'  Italia, 
LXIII.)     Bari,  G.  Laterza.     5  L.  50. 

GUARINI,  G.  B.,  II  pastor  fido  e  il  compendio  della  poesia  tragicomica,  a  cura 
di  G.  Brognoligo.     (Scrittori  d'  Italia,  LXI.)     Bari,  G.  Laterza.     5  L.  50. 

HAUVETTE,  H.,  Boccace,  etude  biographique  et  litteraire.    Paris,  A.  Colin.    5  fr. 

JACOPONE  DA  TODI,  Le  satire,  ricostituite  nella   loro  piu  probabile  lezione 
originaria,  per  cura  di  B.  Brugnoli.     Florence,  L.  S.  Olschki.     20  L. 

KERN,  F.     Dante.     Vier  Vortrage  zur  Einfiihrung  in  die  gottliche  Komodie. 
Tubingen,  J.  C.  B.  Mohr.     3  M. 

LORENZO  IL  MAGNIFICO,  Opere,  a  cura  di  A.  Simioni.     n.     (Scrittori  d'  Italia, 
LIX.)     Bari,  G.  Laterza.     5  L.  50. 

METASTASIO,  P.,  Opere,  a  cura  di  F.  Nicolini.     m.     (Scrittori  d'  Italia,  LXII.) 
Bari,  G.  Laterza.     5  L.  50. 

ORR,  M.  A.,  Dante  and  the  Early  Astronomers.      London,  Gfcll  and  Inglis. 
15s.  net. 

ROBINSON,  J.  H.,  and  ROLFE,  H.  W.     Petrarch :  the  first  modern  Scholar  and 
Man  of  Letters.     2nd  ed.     London,  Putnam.     7s.  Qd.  net. 

TOYNBEE,  P.,  Concise  Dictionary  of  Proper  Names  and  notable  matters  in  the 
Works  of  Dante.     London,  H.  Milford.     7s.  60?. 


Spanish. 


ALEMAN,  M.,  Segunda  parte  de  la  vida  de  Guzman  de  Alfarache,  Atalaya  de  la 
vida  humana.  Edici6n  transcrita  y  revisada  por  J.  Cejador.  Madrid, 
Imp.  Renacimieuto.  2  pes.  50. 

ALONSO  CORTES,  N.,  Don  Hernando  de  Acuiia,  noticias  biogrdficas.  Valladolid, 
Viuda  de  Montero. 

AsfN  PALACIOS,  M.,  Abenrnassara  y  su  escuela.  Origenes  de  la  filosofia 
hispano-musulmana.  Madrid,  Imp.  Iberica.  2  pes. 

BERCEO,  G.  DE,  El  Sacrificio  de  la  Misa.     Edicion  de  A.  G.  Solaliude.     (Publi- 

caciones  de  la  Residencia  de  Estudiantes.)     Madrid,  Renacimiento.     Soc. 

Edit.  Anon.     1  pes.  50. 
BONILLA  Y  SAN  MART£N,  A.,  Las  leyendas  de  Wagner  en  la  literatura  espanola. 

Con  un  ape"ndice  sobre  el  Santo  Grial  en  el  'Lanzaroto  del  Lago'  castellano. 

Madrid,  Imp.  Clasica  Espanola.     2  pes. 
CEJADOR  Y  FRANCA,  J.,  Tesoro  de  la  lengua  castellana.     Origen  y  vida  del 

leriguaje,   lo   que  dicen   las  palabras.     Labiales,    B.    P.     Primera   Parte. 

Madrid,  Perlado,  Paez  y  Ca.     12  pes. 
CERVANTES,  M.  DE,  El  ingenioso  hidalgo  Don   Quijote  de  la   Mancha.     vin 

Edici6n,  y  Notas  de  F.  Rodrfguez  Marin.     (Clasicos  castellanos,  xxn.) 

Madrid,  'La  Lectura.' 
CERVANTES  SAAVEDRA,  M.,  La  Galatea.     Edicion  publicada  por  R.  Schevill 

y  A.  Bonilla.     (Obras  completas  de  Miguel  de  Cervantes  Saavedra,  I,  n.) 

Madrid,  B.  Rodrfguez. 
GUTIERREZ    DEL    CANO,    M.,   Catalogo   de   los   manuscritos   existentes   en   la 

Biblioteca  Universitaria  de  Valencia.    Prologo  del  Excmo.  Sr.  D.  Francisco 

Rodriguez  Marin.     Valencia,  A.  Lopez  y  Ca.     3  tomos.     100  pes. 
HENRfQUEZ  URENA,  P.,  Don  Juan  Ruiz  de  Alarcon.     Mexico,  'Nosotros.' 
JuDERfAS,  J.,  Gaspar  Melchor  de  Jovellanos.     Su  vida,  su  tiempo,  sus  obras, 

su  influencia  social.     Madrid,  J.  Rates.     3  pes. 


434  New  Publications 

MENISNDEZ  y  PELAYO,  M.,  Historia  de  la  poesia  castellana  en  la  Edad  Media. 
Tomo  i.  (Obras  completas,  iv.)  Madrid,  Fortanet.  10  pes. 

ORTEGA,  E.  y  MARCOS,  B.,  Los  grandes  filosofos  espanoles.  Francisco  de  Valles 
(El  Divino).  Prologo  de  Adolfo  Bonilla  y  San  Martin.  Madrid,  Imp. 
Clasica  Espaiiola.  4  pes. 

PEREZ  DE  HITA,  G.,  Guerras  civiles  de  Granada,  primera  parte.  Reproduction 
de  la  edicion  principe  del  ano  1595,  publicada  por  Paula  Blanchard-Demouge. 
Madrid,  Bailly-Bailliere. 

Poema  de  mio  Cid.  Edicion  y  notas  de  Ramon  Menendez  Pidal.  (Clasicos 
castellanos,  xxiv.)  Madrid,  'La  Lectura.' 

SERRANO  Y  SANZ,  M.,  Vida  y  escritos  de  D.  Juan  Fernandez  de  Heredia,  gran 
maestro  de  la  orden  de  San  Juan  de' Jerusalen.  Zaragoza,  'La  Editorial.' 

VEGA,  LOPE  DE,  Obras  publicadas  por  la  Real  Academia  Espanola  (xiv,  Comedias 
Novelescas,  Segunda  Seccion:  xv,  Comedias  Novelescas,  Tercera  Seccion). 
Madrid,  Sues,  de  Rivadeneyra. 

Portuguese. 

FIGUEIREDO,  F.  DE,  Historia  da  litteratura  romantica  portuguesa  (1825—1880). 
Lisboa,  Livraria  Classica  Editora  de  A.  M.  Teixeira.  700  mrs. 

FIGUEIREDO,  F.  DE,  Historia  da  litteratura  realista  em  Portugal.  Lisboa, 
Livraria  Classica  Editora  de  A.  M.  Teixeira.  700  mrs, 

FIGUEIREDO,  F.  DE,  A  critica  litteraria  como  sciencia.  Lisboa,  Livraria 
Classica  Editora  de  A.  M.  Teixeira.  400  mrs. 

QUEIROZ  VELOSO,  J.  M.  DE,  Gil  Vicente  e  a  sua  obra.  Lisboa,  Livraria  Classica 
Editora  de  A.  M.  Teixeira.  300  mrs. 

Rhseto-Romanic. 

DECURTIUS,  C.,  Ratoromanische  Chrestomathie.  x.  Sursettisch,  sutsettisch. 
1.  Lieferung.  Erlangen,  F.  Junge.  29  M. 

French. 

(a)     General  (incl.  Linguistic}. 

FEDERN,  R.,  Repertoire  bibliographique  de  la  litterature  frangaise  des  origines 
a  nos  jours.  Paris.  22  fr.  50. 

NYROP,  KR.,  Manuel  phonetique  du  frar^ais  parle.  Traduit  et  remanie  par 
E.  Philipot.  3e  edition.  Copenhagen,  Gyldendal  (Paris,  A.  Picard). 
3  kr. 

(6)     Old  French. 

AN  GLADE,  S.,  La  bataille  de  Muret  (12  sept.  1213)  d'apres  la  Chanson  de  la 
croisade.  Toulouse,  E.  Privat.  2  fr. 

Roman,  Le,  de  Renart  le  contrefait,  publ.  par  G.  Raynaud  et  H.  Lemaitre. 
2  vols.  Paris,  E.  Champion.  25  fr. 

SCHWAN,  E.,  Graminatik  des  Altfranzosischen.  Neu  bearbeitet  von  D. 
Behrens.  3  Teile.  Leipzig,  0.  R.  Reisland.  7  M.  60. 

(c)     Modern  -French. 

AICARD,  J.,  Alfred  de  Vigny.     Paris,  E.  Flammarion.     3  fr.  50. 

ALBALAT,  A.,  Joseph  de  Maistre.  (Collection  de  grands  ecrivains  catholiques.) 
Paris,  E.  Vitte.  3  fr.  50. 

BALZAC,  H.  DE,  La  comedie  humaine.    xvn,  xvm.    Paris,  L.  Conard.    Each  9  fr. 

CHE~NIER,  A.,  GEuvres  inedites,  publiees  par  A.  Lefranc.  Paris,  E.  Champion. 
7  fr.  50. 


New  Publications  435 

CHEVRIER,  F.  A.,  Le  colporteur,  roman  satyrique  du  xvnie  siecle.  Preface, 
notes  et  appendice  de  A.  Van  Bevrer.  Paris,  Bibl.  des  curieux.  5  fr. 

CURTIUS,  E.  R.,  Ferdinand  Brunetiere.  Beitrag  zur  Geschichte  der  franzosischen 
Kritik.  Strassburg,  K.  J.  Triibner.  3  M.  80. 

Du  BELL  AY,  J.,  La  defense  et  illustration  de  la  langue  fran9aise,  suivie  du  projet 
de  Pceuvre  intitule'e  'De  la  precellence  du  langage  frangois'  par  H.  Estienne. 
Nouv.  edit,  par  L.  Humbert.  Paris,  Gamier  freres.  5  fr. 

FAGUET,  E.,  En  lisant  Moliere.  L'homme  et  son  temps.  L'ecrivain  et  son 
oeuvre.  Paris,  Hachette.  3  fr.  50. 

FLAUBERT,  G.,  Premieres  ceuvres.  Tome  n  (1838-42).  Paris,  E.  Fasquelle. 
3  fr.  50. 

GILBERT,  E.,  France  et  Belgique,  etudes  litteraires.  Preface  de  R.  Bazin. 
Tome  ii.  Paris,  Plon-Nourrit.  3  fr.  50. 

GRANDSAIGNES  D'HAUTERIVE,  R.,  Le  pessimisme  de  La  Rochefoucauld.  Paris, 
A.  Colin.  3  fr. 

LACOUR,  L.,  Les  femmes  et  les  maltresses  de  Moliere.     Paris,  Nilfcson.     3  fr. 

LATREILLE,  C.,  Le  romantisme  en  Provence.  Aix  en  1834  (au  temps  de  Victor 
de  Laprade).  Aix,  A.  Dragon.  5  fr. 

LIFFERT,  K.,  Der  Einfluss  der  Quellen  auf  das  dramatische  Schaffen 
P.  Corneilles  in  den  altesten  Rornertragodieri.  (Sammlung  wissenschaft- 
licher  Arbeiten,  xvi.)  Langensalza,  Wendt  und  Klauwell.  4  M. 

LIGNE,  PRINCE  DE,  Lettres  a  la  marquise  de  Coigny,  editees  par  H.  Lebasteur. 
Paris,  E.  Champion.  3  fr.  50. 

MARX,  R.,  Mattres  d'hier  et  d'aujourd'hui.  Les  Goncourt  et  1'art.  J.  K.  Huysmans. 
Chez  Anatole  France,  etc.  Paris,  Calmann-Levy.  3  fr.  50. 

MORF,  H.,  Geschichte  der  franzosischen  Literatur  irn  Zeitalter  der  Renaissance. 

2.    Aufl.      (Grundriss    der    romanischen    Philologie,    I,    4.)      Strassburg, 

K.  J.  TrUbner.     5  M. 
NAVATEL,  L.,  Fenelon.     Paris,  Emile  Paul.     3  fr.  50. 

PASCAL,  B.,  (Euvres  completes.  Introduction  et  notes  de  L.  Brunschvicg, 
P.  Boutroux  et  F.  Gazier.  n.  Serie.  Tomes  iv,  v.  Paris,  Hachette. 
Each  7  fr.  50. 

REYNIER,  G.,  Le  roman  realiste  au  xvne  siecle.     Paris,  Hachette.     3  fr.  50. 

RICHARDS,  S.  A.,  Feminist  Writers  of  the  Seventeenth  Century.    London,  Nutt. 

5s.  net. 

Rousseau,  Annales  de  la  Societe  de  J.  J.    Tome  ix.    Paris,  E.  Champion.    10  fr. 
SAHAGHIAN,  G.,  Chateaubriand  en  Orient.     Paris,  E.  Champion.     5  fr.  50. 
SANDARS,  M.   F.,  H.  de  Balzac:    his  Life  and  Writings.     London,   S.  Paul. 

5s.  net. 
SENSINE,    H.,   Chrestomathie    frangaise    du   xixe  siecle.      i.    Les  prosateurs. 

ii.    Les  poetes.     Paris,  Payot.     Each  5  fr. 

STEPHENS,  W.,  French  Novelists  of  to-day.     2nd  ed.     London,  Lane.     5s.  net. 
STREUBER,  A.,  Beitrage  zur  Geschichte  des  franzosischen  Unterrichts  im  16. — 18. 

Jahrh.     I.     (Romanische  Studien,  xv.)     Berlin,  E.  Ebering.     4  M.  50. 
TAILHADE,  L.,  De  Celimene  a  Diafoirus,  Misanthropic  et  misanthropes.     La 

pharmacopee  au  temps  de  Moliere.     Paris,  A.  Messein.     2  fr. 
VAN  BEVER,  A.,  Anthologie  des  poetes  du  Terroir  du  xve  siecle  a  nos  jours. 

Tome  iv.     Paris,  Delagrave.     3  fr.  50. 
VILLIERS  DE  L'ISLE  ADAM,  (Euvres  completes.      2  vols.      Paris,  Mercure  de 

France.     Each  5  fr. 


436  New  Publications 

GERMANIC   LANGUAGES. 

S  candina  vian . 

CAMPBELL,  0.  J.,  The  Comedies  of  Holberg.  (Harvard  Studies  in  Comparative 
Literature,  in.)  Cambridge,  U.S.A.,  Harvard  Univ.  Press  (London, 
H.  Milford).  10s.  6d.  net. 

EWALD,  J.,  Samlede  Skrifter,  efter  Tryk  og  Haandskrifter  udg.  af  H.  Brix  og 
V.  Kuhr.  i.  Copenhagen,  Gyldendal.  6  kr. 

KALM,  P.,  Bref  till  samtida.  Utg.  av  O.  E.  A.  Hjelt  och  A.  Hastesko.  (Skrifter 
utgivna  av  Svenska  litteratursalls'kapet  i  Finland,  cxiv.)  Helsingfors. 
3  kr. 

Laxdoela  Saga,  La,  Legende  historique  islandaise,  trad.,  introd.  et  notes  par 
F.  Mosse.  (Bibl.  de  philologie  et  de  litterature  modernes.)  Paris,  F.  Alcan. 
3  fr.  50. 

MANSSON,  P.,  Skrifter.  Utg.  af  R.  Geete.  n.  (Samlingar  utgifna  af  Svenska 
fornskriftsallskapet,  CLXIV.)  Stockholm,  Nordiska  bokh.  1  kr.  50. 

NOREEN,  A.,  Nordiska  ortnamn.  Hyllningsskrift  tillagnad  A.  Noreen  pa 
sextioarsdagen  av  vanner  och  larjungar.  Uppsala.  20  kr. 

Studier  i  nordisk  filologi  utg.  genom  H.  Pipping.  (Skrifter  utgivna  av  Svenska 
litteratursallskapet  i  Finland,  cxni.)  Helsingfors.  2  kr.  25. 

Dutch. 

BosBOOM-ToussAiNT,  A.  L.  G.,  Brieven  aan  E.  J.  Potgieter.  Rotterdam, 
D.  Bolle.  1  fl.  75. 

BREULS,  C.,  Vademecurn  handelend  over  Maastrichtsch  dialect.  Verbeterde 
en  uitgebreide  editie.  Maastricht,  Boosten  en  Stols.  75  c. 

Roman  van  den  riddere  metter  mouwen,  opnieuw  naar  het  hs.  uitg.  door 
B.  M.  van  der  Stempel.  (Bibliotheek  van  middelnederlandsche  letter- 
kunde.)  Leiden,  A.  W.  Sijthoff.  6  fl.  50. 

VERDEYEN,  R.,  en  ENDEPOLS,  J.,  Tondalus'  visioen  en  St.  Patricius'  vagevuur. 
i.  (Koninkl.  Vlaamsche  academic.)  The  Hague,  M.  Nijhoff.  10  fl. 

English. 

(a)     General  (incl.  Linguistic}. 

KRUGER,  G.,  Schwierigkeiten  des  Englischen.  n.  Teil.  Syntax,  2.  Abt. 
2te  Aufl.  Dresden,  C.  A.  Koch,  'll  M. 

POUND,  L.,  Blends,  their  Relation  to  English  Word-formation.  (Anglistische 
Forschungen,  XLTI.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  1  M.  60. 

(6)     Old  and  Middle  English. 

Beowulf  nebst  dem  Finnsburg-Bruchstiick.  Ubersetzt  und  erlautert  von 
H.  Gering.  2te  Aufl.  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  .2  M. 

EITLE,  H.,  Die  Satzverkniipfung  bei  Chaucer.  (Anglistische  Forschungen, 
XLIV.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  5  M.  80. 

FANSLER,  D.  S.,  Chaucer  and  the  Roman  de  la  Rose.  (Columbia  Univ.  Studies 
in  English  and  Comparative  Literature.)  Yew  York,  Columbia  Univ. 
Press  (London,  H.  Milford).  6s.  Qd.  net. 

GREIN,  C.  W.  M.,  Sprachschatz  der  angelsachsischen  Dichter.  Neu  herausg. 
von  J.  J.  Kohler.  (Germanische  Handbibliothek,  i,  iv.  Reihe,  4.  Band.) 
Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  22  M. 


New  Publications  437 

Lambeth -Psalter,  Der.  Eine  altenglische  Interlinearversion  des  Psalters  in 
der  Hs.  427  des  erzbischoflichen  Lambeth-Palace  Library.  Herausg.  von 
0.  Lindelof.  u.  (Acta  societatis  scientiarum  fennicae,  XLIII,  No.  3.) 
Helsingfors  (Leipzig,  0.  Harrassowitz).  5  M. 

Richard  Loweriherz,  Der  mittelenglische  Versroman  iiber.  Kritische  Ansgabe 
von  K.  Brunner.  (Wiener  Beitrage  zur  englischen  Philologie,  XLII.) 
Vienna,  W.  Braumiiller.  15  M. 

EOLLE,  B.,  The  Fire  of  Love;  or  Melody  of  Love  and  the  Mending  of  Life, 
or  Bale  of  Living.  Transl.  by  E.  Misyn.  Edited  and  done  into  modern 
English  by  F.  M.  M.  Comper.  London,  Methuen.  3s.  60?.  net. 

SCHUMACHER,  K.,  Studien  iiber  den  Stabreim  in  der  mittelenglischen  Al- 
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Sir  Gawayne  and  the  Green  Knight.  Ee-edited  from  the  Cotton  MS. 
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(c)     Modern  English.  I 

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BLOUNT,  A.,  Intensive  Studies  in  American  literature.     London,  Macmillan. 

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BRADLEY,  W.,  The  Early  Poems  of  W.  S.  Landor.    London,  H.  Eees.    2s.  6d.  net. 
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NETTLETON,  G.  H.,  English  Drama  of  the  Restoration  and  Eighteenth  Century 
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SCHELENZ,  H.,  Shakespeare  und  sein  Wissen  auf  den  Gebieten  der  Arznei-  und 

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SHAKESPEARE,  W.,  As  you  like  it.  Edited  by  J.  W.  Holme.  Arden  Ed. 
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SHORTER,  C.  K.,  The  Brontes  and  their  Circle.  (The  Wayfarer's  Library.) 
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STAHL,  E.  L.,  Das  englische  Theater  im  19.  Jahrh.  (Die  Kultur,  v.)  Munich, 
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TOWNSEND,  L.  W.,  O.  W.  Holmes.     Centenary  Biography.     London,  Headley. 

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A.  K.  Foxwell.     London,  Hodder  and  Stoughton.     3s.  6d.  net. 

German. 

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GRIMM,  J.  und  W.,  Deutsche  Sagen.  Herausg.  von  H.  Schneider.  (Goldene 
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KRUGER,  H.  A.,  Deutsches   Ljteratur-Lexikon.      Biographisches   und   biblio- 

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lunich,  C.  H.  Beck.     6  M.  50. 


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SCHWARZ,  K.,  Das  intervokalische  -g-  im  Frankischen.  Sprachgeschichtliclie 
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(b)  Old  and  Middle  High  German. 

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BERRESHEIM,  F.,  Schiller  als  Herausgeber  der  Rheinischen  Thalia,  Thalia  und 
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COLLITZ,  K.  H.,  Selections  from  Classical  German  Literature.  London, 
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GIEBEN,  J.,  C.  D.  Grabbe  in  der  nachschillerschen  Entwickelung.  Liiding- 
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Goethe-Bibliothek,  herausg.  von  K.  G.  Wendriner.  Die  Faustdichtung  vor, 
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HERMANN,  M.,  Forschungen  zur  deutschen  Theatergeschichte  des  Mittelalters 

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Literaturgeschichte,  xxxvui.)  Stuttgart,  J.  B.  Metzler.  7  M.  50. 

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PICHLER,  C.,  Denkwiirdigkeiten  aus  meinem  Leben.  Herausg.  von  E.  K. 
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PLATEN,  A.  VON,  Briefwechsel.  Herausg.  von  P.  Bornstein.  n.  Munich, 
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Roos,  C.,  Moderne  tysk  Litteratur.     Copenhagen,  Lybecker.     3  kr.  50. 

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SCHLEGELS,  CAROLINE,  Leben  in  ihren  Briefen.  Eingeleitet  von  R.  Huch. 
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WEISE'S,  CHRISTIAN,  Dramen  Regnerus  und  (Jlvilda,  nebst  einer  Abhandlung 
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Abhandlungen,  XLVI.)  Berlin,  M.  und  H.  Marcus.  10  M. 

ZIEGLER,  TH.,   Goethes  Welt-  und   Lebensanschauung.      Berlin,   G.    Reimer. 

2  M.  40. 


OCTOBER,  1914  NUMBER  4 


NOTES   ON   SHELLEY'S   'TRIUMPH   OF   LIFE.' 

The  Triumph  of  Life,  Shelley's  last  long  poem,  was  left  unfinished, 
and  what  was  written  was  evidently  left  unrevised.  The  manuscript 
was  no  doubt  difficult  to  decipher,  and  Mrs  Shelley's  version  of  it  has 
been  changed  and,  for  the  most  part,  improved  by  re-examination  of 
the  MS.  (now  apparently  lost)  and  by  conjectural  emendation.  But, 
apart  from  doubts  as  to  the  text,  the  fragment,  intensely  interesting  as 
the  last  presentation  of  Shelley's  way  of  regarding  life,  is  not,  as  a  whole, 
quite  easy  to  understand ;  and  it  also  contains  passages  the  meaning  of 
which  is,  at  least  at  first,  obscure.  The  following  notes  deal  with  some 
of  these  passages,  but  I  must  first  say  something  on  two  special  influ- 
ences visible  in  the  poem.  Unless  notice  is  given,  I  quote  the  Oxford 
edition  of  Shelley's  poems  (Hutchinson's  text).  I  refer  to  the  poem  as 
T.  L.,  or,  where  no  doubt  could  arise,  give  merely  the  number  of  the 
line  referred  to. 

I.  Influences.  Dowden  long  ago  pointed  out  that  the  immediate 
suggestion  of  the  poem  is  to  be  found  in  Petrarch's  Trionji.  These 
form  a  series  of  six  poems  in  terza  rima,  describing  in  turn  the  triumph 
of  Love  over  man,  especially  in  his  youth  ;  the  triumph  of  Chastity  over 
Love ;  that  of  Death  over  all  mortality;  that  of  Fame  over  Death ;  that 
of  Time  over  Fame;  and  that  of  Divinity  over  Time.  Shelley  owes 
little  to  the  last  five  of  the  Trionfi,  but  a  good  deal  to  the  first,  as  a 
few  words  will  show.  Here  Petrarch,  lying  in  early  morning  on  the 
grass  in  a  solitary  place,  and  wearied  with  sad  thoughts  of  the  past, 
falls  asleep.  In  his  sleep  he  sees  a  great  light,  and  within  this  light 
four  white  coursers  drawing  a  car,  in  which  sits  Love,  like  a  conqueror 
in  a  Roman  triumph.  Around  the  car  he  sees  innumerable  mortals, 
dead  and  alive ;  and  one  o'f  them,  a  friend  who  recognizes  him,  points 
out  and  describes  to  him  the  most  famous  of  the  victims.  Here  we 
have  in  outline  the  main  scheme  of  Shelley's  fragment.  A  number  of 

M.  L.  R.  ix.  29 


442  Notes  on  Shelley s  'Triumph  of  Life' 


\ 


minor  coincidences  may  also  be  traced1 ;  but  my  business  is  not  with 
these,  nor  indeed  with  the  Trionfi  at  all,  but  with  another  'source,' 
which  has  not,  I  believe,  been  noticed,  which  may  itself  have  suggested 
the  idea  of  the  Trionfi,  and  which  contributed,  I  think,  independently 
to  The  Triumph  of  Life. 

The  style  in  parts  of  this  poem  is  evidently  influenced  by  that  of 
Dante,  much  more  so  than  by  the  style  of  Petrarch,  and  Dante  is  alluded 
to  in  lines  471  ff.  (475,  should  run  'In  words  of  hate  and  awe  the 
wondrous  story ' :  see  Locock's  edition).  But  something  more  than  this 
influence  comes  from  Dante.  Shelley,'  it  will  be  remembered,  translated 
part  of  Canto  xxviii  of  the  Purgatorio.  There  we  learn  that  the  poet, 
having  reached  the  '  divine  forest '  of  the  Earthly  Paradise,  leaves  the 
mountain-side  to  explore  it.  The  soil  exhales  fragrant  odours,  the 
boughs  quiver  in  the  sweet  breeze,  the  leaves  murmur,  and  the  birds 
welcome  the  early  morn  with  their  songs.  Dante  comes  to  a  stream, 
and  stays  his  steps  to  admire  the  flowers  on  the  opposite  bank ;  and  on 
this  bank  there  suddenly  appears  to  him, 

si  com'  egli  appare 
Subitamente  cosa  che  disvia 
Per  maraviglia  tutt'  altro  pensare, 

a  lady  (Matilda),  who  is  moving  along  the  bank,  singing  and  gathering 
flowers. 

Now  this  is  almost  precisely  the  scenery  amidst  which  Rousseau,  in 
the  Triumph  of  Life,  sees,  in  the  morn  of  life  and  of  the  day,  a  Shape 
which  glides  along  a  stream  in  a  forest — a  Shape  whose  moving  feet 

seemed  as  they  moved  to  blot 
The  thoughts  of  him  who  gazed  on  them. 

1  I  owe  almost  all  the  following  notes  to  the  kindness  of  Miss  Stawell,  who  has  a  paper 
on  The  Triumph  of  Life  in  the  fifth  volume  of  English  Association  Essays  and  Studies, 
1914,  (1)  Cf.  the  friend's  divination  of  Petrarch's  feelings  and  future  (T.  d'Amore,  i, 
58  ff.)  with  T.  L.  302  ff.  and  perhaps  327  ff.  (2)  Cf.  ib.  91,  the  conquerors  conquered, 
with  T.  L.  235.  (3)  Cf.  ib.  iv,  94-5,  the  sound  of  the  horses'  wings,  with  T.  L.  97-8. 
(4)  Cf.  T.  d.Morte,  i,  13-16,  the  fewness  of  Laura's  companions  untouched  by  the  power 
of  Love,  with  T.  L.  128.  (5)  Cf.  ib.  39,  night  before  evening,  with  T.  L.  214-15,  485-fi. 
(6)  Cf.  ib.  54,  and  ii,  22,  28,  34,  the  worthlessness  and  delusiveness  of  life,  with  the  drift 
of  T.  L.  (7)  Cf.  ib.  83-4,  'gems,'  'sceptres,'  'crowns,3  'mitres,'  with  T.  L.  132-3,  210. 
(8)  Cf.  ib.  91-2,  the  vain  toil  of  life,  with  T.  L.  66.  (9)  Cf.  ib.  ii,  14,  'pubblico  viaggio,' 
with  T.  L.  43.  (10)  Cf.  T.  d.  Fama,  the  famous  conquerors,  rulers,  poets,  writers,  thinkers, 
•with  the  similar  division  of  the  captives  in  T.  L.  (11)  Cf.  ib.  ii,  11-12,  Alexander  over- 
running the  world  from  Pella  to  India,  with  T.  L.  263-5.  (12)  Cf.  ib.  15,  opportunity 
and  glory,  with  T.  L.  219-24.  (13)  Cf.  ib.  85  ff. ,  Petrarch  almost  weary  of  watching,  with 
T.  L.  231-2.  (14)  Cf.  ib.  iii,  106  ff.,  the  great  thinkers  who  went  wrong,  with  T.  L.  211- 
15.  (15)  Cf.  T.  d.  Tempo,  the  opening,  with  the  cancelled  opening  of  T.  L.  (16)  Cf.  ib. 
32 ff.,  the  extreme  swiftness  of  the  sun,  with  T.  L.  1  ff.  (17)  Cf.  T.  d.  Divin.  1-81,  Time 
swallowed  up  in  Eternity;  and  especially  28-9,  the  three  parts  of  Time  reduced  to  one 
only,  which  no  longer  moves;  with  T.  L.  99-105,  where  the  four  faces  may  represent  past, 
present,  future,  and  eternity.  (18)  Cf.  ib.  41,  the  sun's  path  through  the  Zodiac  directing 
the  labours  of  men,  with  T.  L.  15-20.  (19)  Cf.  ib.  43,  46,  82,  86,  'happy  he  who,'  etc., 
with  T.  L.  547  (one  of  some  additional  lines,  published  only  in  Locock's  edition). 


A.    C.    BRADLEY 


443 


And  the  stream  in  Dante  is  Lethe,  and  in  Shelley  it  sings  a  '  Lethean 
song.'  And  the  place,  in  Shelley,  is  close  to  that  '  orient  cavern '  which 
is  evidently  an  image  of  birth,  while  in  Dante  it  is 

questo  loco  eletto 
All  'umana  natura  per  suo  nido. 

This  is  not  all.  In  the  next  Canto  of  the  Purgatorio  we  learn  that, 
while  the  lady  and  Dante  are  moving  slowly  along  the  opposite  banks 
of  the  stream,  suddenly  a  lustrous  light  flashes  through  the  forest,  like 
lightning  except  that  it  continues  and  grows  brighter.  And  then  there 
enters  the  Triumphal  Car  of  the  Church.  Just  so  in  Shelley's  poem, 
after  Rousseau  has  questioned  the  Shape  (as  Dante  had  questioned 
Matilda),  suddenly  there  '  bursts '  on  his  sight  the  glare  of  the  car  of 
Life,  whose  coursers  (we  know  from  the  description  earlier  in  the  poem) 
are  lost  in  '  thick  lightenings.' 

Naturally,  there  is  no  likeness  in  the  meanings  of  Matilda  and  of 
the  '  Shape,'  and  little  likeness  in  the  two  cars ;  but  it  seems  certain 
that,  in  the  points  noted  above,  Shelley's  imagination  has  been  influenced 
by  these  Cantos  of  the  Purgatorio,  and  some  minor  points  may  be 
briefly  noticed,  in  which  the  same  influence  may  be  surmised.  (1)  Cf. 
the  '  Janus- visaged '  charioteer,  who,  if  his  eyes  were  not  banded,  would 
see  all  that  is,  has  been,  or  will  be  done  (T.  L.  104),  with  the  three-eyed 
attendant  in  Purg.  xxix,  132  (Prudence,  who  sees  past,  present  and 
future).  (2)  Cf.  the  reference  to  Iris  in  Rousseau's  vision  (T.  L.  356) 
with  Purg.  xxix,  77  and  xxi,  50.  (3)  Cf.  the  reflections  in  water  (T.  L. 
345  ff.)  with  Purg.  xxix,  67-9,  xxxi,  121.  (4)  Cf.  the  metaphor  of  the 
brain  being  stamped  (T.  L.  405  ff.)  with  Purg.  xxxiii,  79-81.  (5)  Cf. 
the  emotional  effect  of  the  repetition  of  '  Virgilio '  in  Purg.  xxx,  49  ff. 
with  that  of  'Me'  in  T.  L.  461  ff,  lines  which  also  recall  Dante's  remorse 
under  the  reproaches  of  Beatrice  (xxxi).  (6)  Cf.  the  question  'And 
what  is  this  ? '  (T.  L.  177)  with  '  Che  cosa  e  questa  ? '  in  Purg.  xxix,  21. 
(7)  The  fact  that  Shelley  sees  his  vision  at  dawn  may  possibly  be  due 
to  Purg.  ix,  13  ff.  and  xxvii,  92  f.  (8)  Possibly  Purg.  xxxiii,  53-4  may 
give  a  hint  as  to  the  further  course  of  the  Triumph  of  Life,  though  I 
do  not  think  this  very  probable.  (9)  Cf.  315-6  with  Purg.  xxviii,  25-8. 
(10)  Cf.  210  with  Purg.  xxvii,  142.  (11)  Cf.  32  with  Purg.  xxxii,  71. 

II.     The  Introduction  (1-40). 
The  poem  begins, 


Swift  as  a  spirit  hastening  to  his  task 

Of  glory  and  of  good,  the  Sun  sprang  forth 

Rejoicing  in  his  splendour, 


29—2 


444  Notes  on  Shelley's  'Triumph  of  Life 

and  (15  ff.)  Shelley  tells  how  he  saw  everything, 

continent, 

Isle,  ocean,  and  all  things  that  in  them  wear 
The  form  and  character  of  mortal  mould, 
Rise  as  the  Sun  their  father  rose,  to  bear 
Their  portion  of  the  toil,  which  he  of  old 
Took  as  his  own,  and  then  imposed  on  them. 

In  the  Notes  on  Passages  in  Shelley  printed  in  this  Review  (Oct.  1905) 
I  called  attention  to  the  likeness  of  these  lines  to  the  quatrain  in  The 
Boat  on  the  Serchio  which  follows  a  description  of  sunrise  : 

All  rose  to  do  the  task  He  set  to  each, 

Who  shaped  us  to  his  ends  and  not  our  own ; 

The  million  rose  to  learn,  and  one  to  teach 
What  none  yet  ever  knew  or  can  be  known1. 

In  these  passages  the  sun  is  the  representative  of.  or  for  the  moment 
is  identified  with,  the  ultimate  good,  or  source  of  all  good,  or  (as  Shelley 
occasionally  calls  it)  God ;  and  it  is  the  opposite  of  that  which  is  called 
in  this  poem  '  Life.'  Hence  the  glare  of  the  car,  or  of  Life,  obscures  or 
dims  the  sun  (77, 148).  The  elect  spirits  who  leave  Life  while  they  are 
still  young  fly  back  to  their  'native  noon'  (131 :  cf.  Hellas,  223).  The 
soul  of  Rousseau  was  '  lit '  by  a  '  spark '  from  '  Heaven '  (201).  Medieval 
theology  made  a  'shadow'  between  man  and  'God,'  or  an  eclipse  of  the 
'  true  sun '  (289  ff.).  The  Shape  that  appears  to  Rousseau  is  '  all  light/ 
appears  in  the  sun's  reflection  on  water,  wanes  in  the  glare  of  the  car,  is 
a  '  light  of  Heaven '  (348  ff.,  412,  429).  (I  may  note  in  passing  that,  in 
spite  of  the  difference  of  tone  in  the  two  poems,  there  is  a  strong  like- 
ness between  this  Shape  and  the  Witch  of  Atlas.) 

The  metaphor  by  which  God,  or  any  representative  of  God  or  the 
supreme  good,  is  identified  with  the  sun,  is,  of  course,  extremely  common. 
Shelley's  development  of  it  is  clearly  influenced  by  two  of  his  favourite 
authors,  Plato  (especially  in  the  famous  passage,  Rep.  vi,  508  f.),  and 
Dante.  Without  enlarging  on  the  general  influence  of  the  latter,  who 
several  times  speaks  of  God  as  the  sun,  I  will  point  out  two  examples 
in  this  Introduction. 

(1)  Shelley  writes  of  the  sun  as  the  '  father '  of  '  all  things  that  wear 
the  form  and  character  of  mortal  mould';  and  Dante  (Par.  xxii,  116) 
had  described  the  sun  as 

Quegli  ch'  &  padre  d'  ogni  mortal  vita. 

1  '  All'  here  does  not  mean  merely  all  men.  I  take  « one '  in  the  third  line  to  be  the 
same  as  « He,'  the  One  contrasted  with  the  Many  in  Adonais  and  here  represented  by  the 
sun.  The  last  line  recalls  'the  Power  unknown'  of  the  Ode  to  Liberty,  xvi.  I  cannot 
go  into  the  difficulties  raised  by  Shelley's  ideas  or  language. 


A.    C.    BRADLEY  445 

(2)  Shelley  (22)  speaks  of  '  the  stars  that  gem  the  cone  of  night.' 
The  cone  of  night  is  the  conical  shadow  which  the  earth  casts  into  the 
sky.  Cf.  Prom.  Unb.  iv,  444, 

I  spin  beneath  my  pyramid  of  night, 
Which  points  into  the  heavens: 

Epip.  228,  '  the  dreary  cone  of  our  life's  shade ' ;  Adon.  xl,  '  He  has 
outsoared  the  shadow  of  our  night ' ;  Hellas,  943,  '  pyramid.'  I  do  not 
think  the  idea  appears  before  Prom,  iv  (end  of  1819).  Shelley  might 
have  got  it  from  Paradise  Lost,  iv,  776,  or,  I  suppose,  from  an  account 
of  the  Ptolemaic  astronomy,  but  he  would  have  been  struck  at  once  by 
the  words  (Par.  ix,  118), 

Da  questo  cielo,  in  cui  1'  ombra  s'  appunta 
Che  il  vostro  mondo  face.  -s. 

Cf.  '  s'  appunta '  with  the  quotation  from  Prometheus  above.  '  Questo 
cielo'  is  the  Third  Heaven,  that  of  Venus,  which,  according  to  the 
astronomy  followed  by  Dante,  is  the  farthest  point  reached  by  the  shadow 
of  the  earth ;  and  it  is  '  the  sphere  whose  light  is  melody  to  lovers ' 
(T.  L.  479)  where  however  the  immediate  reference  is  to  the  first 
Canzone  of  the  Convivio.  Shelley  translated  this  Canzone,  and  it  is 
interesting  to  notice  that  he  misinterprets  it  in  a  manner  which  shows 
that  he  cannot  have  read  Dante's  own  interpretation. 

III.     The  Charioteer. 

The  coming  of  the  car  in  which  the  conqueror  Life  sits  (7.4  ff.)  is 
heralded  by  '  a  cold  glare,  intenser  than  the  noon,  But  icy  cold/  which 
obscures  the  sun  with  blinding  light.  The  winged  coursers  which  draw 
it  are  'lost  in  thick  lightenings.'  It  is  guided  by  a  ' Janus-visaged 
Shadow,'  with  four  faces.  The  next  lines,  as  they  appeared  in  most1  of 
the  texts  until  1870  (Rossetti's  first  edition),  run  thus: 

All  the  four  faces  of  that  charioteer 
Had  their  eyes  banded ;   little  profit  brings 
Speed  in  the  van  and  blindness  in  the  rear, 
Nor  then  avail  the  beams  that  quench  the  sun 
Or  that  with  banded  eyes  could  pierce  the  sphere 
Of  all  that  is,  has  been,  or  will  be  done; 
So  ill  was  the  car  guided — but  it  past 
With  solemn  speed  majestically  on. 

Here  the  word  '  that,'  in  1.  5  of  the  quotation,  must  apparently  be  taken 

as  a  relative  referring,  like  '  that '  in  1.  4,  to  the  '  beams '  in  1.  4.     But 

this,  in  Rossetti's  judgment,  yields  no  sense.     He  therefore  put  a  colon 

1  In  one  at  least  there  is  a  comma  at  the  end  of  1.  4  of  the  quotation. 


446  Notes  on  Shelley  s  'Triumph  of  Life' 

at  the  end  of  1.  4,  and  in  1.  5  printed  '  that '  in  italics.  The  meaning 
would  then  be  as  follows  :  The  speed  of  the  coursers  in  front  is  rendered 
almost  useless  by  the  blindness  of  the  charioteer  behind  them ;  and  in 
this  state  of  things  the  glare  of  the  chariot  avails  little ;  though,  if  the 
eyes  of  the  charioteer  were  not  banded,  he  could  see  everything  done  in 
the  past  and  future  as  well  as  the  present.  'Or  that  with  banded  eyes' 
would  mean,  '  If  matters  were  otherwise,  that  being  whose  eyes  are 
banded.' 

Rossetti's  interpretation  has  been  adopted  by  almost  all  editors 
since  1870.  But  Mr  Locock,  in  his  recent  valuable  edition,  has  rejected 
it  and  has  offered  another:  'The  beams  which  quench  the  sun  [the 
keen  eyes  of  the  charioteer],  and  which,  even  though  the  eyes  are 
banded,  could  pierce  the  sphere,  etc.,  are  of  no  avail  for  guiding  the 
car.  Destiny  may  know  the  past,  the  present,  and  the  future,  but 
cannot  guide  the  course  of  Life  in  accordance  with  his  knowledge.' 
Mr  Locock  adds :  '  the  repetition  of  "  banded "  is  evidently  weak. 
Possibly  it  is  a  corruption  of  some  such  word  as  "  bared." ' 

This  interpretation,  if  I  understand  it  rightly,  appears  to  me  well- 
nigh  impossible.  (1)  The  lines  leave,  surely,  the  strongest  impression 
that  Shelley  is  insisting  on  the  blindness  of  the  charioteer,  and  not  on 
any  unmentioned  disability  of  his ;  and  otherwise  it  is  difficult  to  see 
why  he  should  refer  to  the  blindness  at  all.  (2)  The  interpretation 
not  only  ignores  the  words  '  Nor  then,'  but  seems  to  be  quite  incom- 
patible with  them.  '  Nor  then '  surely  means  '  nor,  under  this  condition 
of  speed  in  the  coursers  and  blindness  in  their  driver,'  i.e.  in  effect, 
'  nor,  when  the  driver's  eyes  are  bandaged ' ;  and  it  is  nonsense  to  say, 
*  nor,  when  his  eyes  are  bandaged,  can  these  same  eyes,  which  can  see 
through  the  bandages,  be  of  any  use.'  (3)  Every  reader  naturally  takes 
the  glare  that  obscures  the  sun  (77)  to  be  the  same  as,  or  to  proceed 
from,  'the  beams  that  quench  the  sun'  (102),  beams  which  however, 
on  Mr  Locock's  interpretation,  are,  or  come  from,  the  eyes  of  the 
charioteer.  Yet  Shelley  follows  up  the  mention  of  the  'glare'  by  a 
reference  to  the  'rushing  splendour'  of  the  chariot',  and  when  later 
(148,  412,  434,  442,  533)  he  refers  to  the  glare,  he  attributes  it  once,  it 
is  true,  to  Life  herself,  but  twice  to  the  car,  and  never  to  the  charioteer, 
to  whom  indeed  he  does  not  allude  again  at  all.  Everything,  it  seems 
to  me,  combines  to  show  that  the  glare  and  the  beams  are  the  same, 
and  that  neither  comes  from  the  bandaged  eyes  of  the  charioteer. 

It  is  perhaps  worth  while  to  remark  that,  if  we  adopted  some  such 
word  as  '  bared '  instead  of  '  banded,'  it  would  be  possible  to  wring  the 


A.    C.    BRADLEY  447 

following  sense  out  of  the  lines  without  adopting  Rossetti's  change  of 
construction :  '  The  charioteer  being  blind,  there  is  little  use  in  that 
glare  of  the  car  which  quenches  the  sun,  and  which,  if  his  eyes  were 
bare,  could  reveal  to  him  all  that  is,  has  been,  or  will  be  done.' 
But  I  am  sure  that  Mr  Locock  would  at  once  rightly  set  aside  such 
a  way  of  taking  '  with  bared  eyes,'  not  to  speak  of  the  trouble  as 
to  'Or.' 

His  reason  for  rejecting  Rossetti's  emendation  is  his  inability  to 
think  that  the  expression  'that  with  banded  eyes'  could  have  been 
used  by  Shelley  for  '  that  charioteer  with  banded  eyes.'  And  I  share 
his  feeling  on  this  point  so  far  that  until  lately  I  have  hesitated  to 
accept  the  emendation.  But  I  suggest  that  Shelley  here,  as  so  often 
in  this  poem,  is  influenced  by  Dante.  Dante  will  wjite  '  quel  di 
Gallura,'  'quel  di  Beccaria,'  'quel  da  Este,'  'quel  da  Pisa,'  'quel  dalle 
chiavi '  (see  Blanc's  Vocabolario)1.  Though  there  appears  to  be  no  in- 
stance of  '  quel '  with  '  con '  after  it,  it  seems  not  unlikely  that  Shelley, 
under  this  influence,  may  have  ventured  on  the  queer  phrase  '  that  with 
banded  eyes.'  And  he  may  have  preferred  it  to  the  more  English  phrase 
'  he  with  banded  eyes '  because  he  wished  to  avoid  the  ascription  of  sex 
to  this  mysterious  being. 

That  the  charioteer  is  Destiny  or  Necessity  seems  almost  certain 
from  Hellas,  711,  'The  world's  eyeless  charioteer,  Destiny';  Prologue 
to  Hellas,  121,  'Art  thou  eyeless  like  old  Destiny.'  Cf.  'Necessity, 
whose  sightless  strength,'  Revolt  of  Islam,  ix,  xxvii.  It  should  be 
noticed  that,  in  the  passages  referred  to,  Destiny  is  called  '  eyeless '  by 
a  chorus  of  women  who  have  the  misfortune  to  be  Christians,  and  by 
Satan,  who  also  (except  in  Milton)  is  regarded  by  Shelley  with  disap- 
proval ;  whereas  in  the  Triumph,  speaking  in  his  own  person,  Shelley 
says  that  Destiny  is  far  from  eyeless,  though  his  eyes  are  banded ;  and 
when  he  wrote  Queen  Mob,  some  ten  years  before — a  poem  in  which 
'destiny'  is  used  only  in  the  sense  of  the  end  to  which  a  being  is 
destined — he  identified  Necessity  with  '  the  universal  Spirit '  or  '  Spirit 
of  Nature,'  and  declared  that  nothing  in  the  universe  was  unrecog- 
nized or  unforeseen  by  it  (vi,  189,  197-8).  I  am  not  suggesting  that 
the  Charioteer  is  'the  universal  Spirit,'  but  am  calling  attention  to 
material  which  must  be  considered  in  any  attempt  to  interpret  him  and 
the  meaning  of  his  all-seeing  eyes  and  of  their  bandages. 

1  Miss  Stawell  has  pointed  out  to  me  that  in  the  Trionfi  Petrarch  has  the  same  usage : 
T.  della  Fama,  ii,  151,  'quel  di  Luria' ;   iii,  53,  'quel  d'Arpino';    T.  del  Tempo,  i,  116, 
quel  di  fuori.' 


448  Notes  on  Shelley s  'Triumph  of  Life' 

IV.  138  ff.     The  description  of  the  dancers  recalls,  in  some  respects, 
Shelley's  description  of  a  dance  of  Maenads  sculptured  in  relief  on  the 
pedestal  of  a  statue  of  Minerva  in  the  Gallery  of  Florence :  '  Nothing 
can  be  conceived  more  wild  and  terrible  than  their  [the  ?]  gestures, 
touching,  as  they  do,  the  verge  of  distortion,  into  which  their  fine  limbs 

and  lovely  forms  are  thrown The  tremendous  spirit  of  superstition, 

aided  by  drunkenness,  producing  something  beyond  insanity,  seems  to 
have  caught  them  in  its  whirlwinds  [cf.  144],  and  to  bear  them  over 
the  earth,  as  the  rapid  volutions  of  a  tempest  have  the  ever-changing 
trunk  of  a  waterspout.... The  hair,  loose  and  floating,  seems  caught  in 
the  tempest  of  their  own  tumultuous  motion  [cf.  147] ;  their  heads  are 
thrown  back,  leaning  with  a  strange  delirium  upon  their  necks,  and 
looking  up  to  heaven,  whilst   they  totter  and   stumble  even  in  the 
energy  of  their  tempestuous  dance'  (Essays  and  Letters,  ed.  1852,  ii, 
215-16).     The  'tremendous  spirit'  in  the  present  passage  seems  to  be 
mainly  that  of  sexual  excitement.     Cf.  the  meeting  and  dissolution  of 
two  clouds  in  a  thunderstorm  with  the  '  electric  poison '  of  Epip.  259. 
And  cf.  137,  which  must  refer,  not  to  the  people  first  seen  by  the  poet 
(44-73),  but  to  those  he  is  going  on  to  describe  in  138-64. 

V.  161-4. 

Yet  ere  I  can  say  where — the  chariot  hath 
Passed  over  them — nor  other  trace  I  find 
But  as  of  foam  after  the  ocean's  wrath 
Is  spent  upon  the  desert  shore. 

The  words  '  ere  I  can  say  where '  appear  so  pointless  that  Mr  Locock 
conjectures  "Ware'  for  'where.'  MostYeaders  probably  will  reject  this 
at  once  on  instinct ;  and  it  is  also  open  to  the  objection  that,  if  '  where ' 
was  Mrs  Shelley's  correction  of  the  ' '  Ware '  of  the  MS.,  the  latter  would 
hardly  have  escaped  Mr  Garnett's  eye.  But,  if  we  reject  ''Ware'  (as 
I  must),  we  ought  to  thank  Mr  Locock  for  insisting  on  the  difficulty 
he  attempts  to  meet.  I  can  only  suggest  that  '  ere  I  can  say  where ' 
developes  the  meaning  of  the  apparently  otiose  preceding  words,  '  nor 
is  the  desolation  single,'  while  its  own  meaning  is  developed  by  the 
words  that  follow  it.  Those  who  fall  fall  so  thickly  that,  after  they  are 
crushed,  they  form  a  line  as  unbroken  as  that  of  the  foam  left  by  a 
receding  wave;  and,  they  falling  thus,  and  the  chariot  passing  over 
them  so  quickly,  the  spectator  cannot,  as  they  are  being  crushed,  dis- 
tinguish the  several  points  at  which  they  are  crushed.  (If  Shelley  were 
as  popular  as  Shakespeare  some  commentator,  English  or  foreign,  would 
long  ago  have  discovered  that  'where'  ought  to  be  'Whoa!"  I  hope 


A.    C,    BRADLEY  449 

I  need  not  add  that  this  remark  does  not  glance  in  the  smallest  degree 
at  Mr  Locock,  whose  work  I  heartily  admire.) 

VI     254-9. 

All  that  is  mortal  of  great  Plato  there 
Expiates  the  joy  and  woe  his  master  knew  not; 
The  star  that  ruled  his  doom  was  far  too  fair, 
And  life,  where  long  that  flower  of  Heaven  grew  not, 
Conquered  that  heart  by  love,  which  gold,  or  pain, 
Or  age,  or  sloth,  or  slavery  could  subdue  not. 

These  lines  come  in  the  poem  later  than  those  dealt  with  in  my  next 
note,  but  are  taken  first  for  a  reason  which  will  appear  there. 

Plato,  or  his  phantom  (253),  is  one  of  the  captives  chained  to  the 
car,  and  so  distinguished  from  the  crowds  which  precede,, surround,  and 
follow  it ;  the  primary  and  most  obvious  distinction  being  one  between 
the  famous  victims,  who  are  unforgotten,  and  those,  the  immense 
majority,  who,  in  Milton's  words, 

Grow  up  and  perish,  as  the  summer-fly, 
Heads  without  name,  no  more  remember'd. 

Besides  these  two  classes  there  are  *  the  sacred  few '  who  were  never 
conquered  by  Life  and  therefore  do  not  appear  in  the  pageant.  Of 
these  Socrates  is  one. 

This  being  so,  the  main  meaning  of  the  lines  is  clear.  Plato,  on 
earth,  experienced  a  joy  and  woe  depriving  him  of  that  complete  self- 
mastery  which  Socrates  possessed ;  and  this  joy  and  woe  arose  from 
love.  Love  was  the  one  lure  by  which  Life  succeeded  in  enchaining 
Plato.  Shelley  would  surmise  this  from  his  reading  of  the  Phaedrus 
and  the  Symposium,  which  latter  dialogue  was  translated  by  him  and 
contains  the  evidence  of  Socrates'  self-control  in  love. 

But  what  is  the  meaning  of  the  words  '  where  long  that  flower  of 
Heaven  grew  not '  ?  What  is  this  flower  of  heaven  which  did  not  grow 
long  in  life,  i.e.  on  earth  ?  It  seems  at  first  impossible  that  it  should 
be  the  '  star '  of  the  preceding  line,  the  star  of  love ;  and  certainly  im- 
possible that  it  should  be  Plato  himself,  whose  '  age '  is  mentioned  two 
lines  after.  This  question,  until  lately,  neither  I  nor  anyone  whom 
I  consulted  could  answer,  and  I  will  not  trouble  the  reader  with  our 
struggles,  since  the  explanation  now  appears  to  me  perfectly  simple  and 
certain. 

'  Aster '  in  Greek  means  '  star.'  '  Aster '  in  English  (and  in  Greek) 
is  the  name  of  a  flower.  '  Aster '  was  the  name  of  the  youth  of  whom 
Plato,  according  to  a  probably  baseless  tradition,  was  enamoured.  And 


450  Notes  on  Shelley s  'Triumph  of  Life' 

this  youth,  as  Shelley  (for  a  reason  to  be  mentioned)  assumed,  died 
young.     The  interpretation  which  follows  is  obvious. 

It  would  be  confirmed,  if  it  needed  confirmation,  by  the  fact  that 
Shelley  translated  two  epigrams  attributed  by  the  same  tradition  to 
Plato,  and  supposed  to  be  addressed  to  Aster.  The  first  formed  the 
motto  to  Adonais,  and  the  translation  was  published  by  Mrs  Shelley 
under  the  title  To  Stella: 

Thou  wert  the  morning  star  among  the  living, 

Ere  thy  fair  light  had  fled : 
Now,  having  died,  thou  art  as  Hesperus,  giving 

New  splendour  to  the  dead. 

The  'flower  of  heaven,'  therefore,  did  not  'grow  long'  in  'life.'     The 
other  epigram  is  translated  in  Revolt  of  Islam,  IX,  xxxvi : 

4  Fair  star  of  life  and  love,'  I  cried,  '  my  soul's  delight, 

Why  lookest  thou  on  the  crystalline  skies  ? 
O,  that  my  spirit  were  yon  Heaven  of  night, 
Which  gazes  on  thee  with  its  thousand  eyes.3 

In  both  translations,  it  will  be  noticed,  Shelley  introduces  the  epithet 
'  fair,'  which  reappears  in  the  lines  from  T.  L. 

The  Aster  story,  and  the  epigrams,  are  given  in  Diogenes  Laertius 
(iii,  29),  a  writer  whose  name  appears  in  Mrs  Shelley's  list  of  authors 
read  by  her  husband  in  1814-151. 

VII.     239-42. 

For  in  the  battle  Life  and  they  did  wage, 
She  remained  conqueror.     I  was  overcome 
By  my  own  heart  alone,  which  neither  age, 
Nor  tears,  nor  infamy,  nor  now  the  tomb 
Could  temper  to  its  object. 

Rousseau,  who  is  speaking,  and  who  is  not  one  of  the  captives 
chained  to  the  car,  is  contrasting  himself  with  certain  captives  contem- 
porary, or  nearly  so,  with  himself.  He  cannot  mean  that  he  fought  with 
Life  and  '  remained  conqueror ' ;  for  he  is  following  the  car  and  is  being 
hurried  by  the  conqueror  he  knows  not  where  (304).  But  to  discuss  the 
whole  meaning  of  the  lines  would  be  to  discuss  the  scheme  and  signifi- 
cance of  the  whole  poem.  I  wish  to  isolate,  so  far  as  possible,  the  small 
question  of  the  relative  clause  beginning  '  which  neither  age/ 

Shelley  was  fond  of  the  verb  '  temper,'  and  increasingly  so  towards 
the  end  of  his  life,  the  increase  being  probably  due  to  the  influence  of 

1  Miss  Stawell  has  suggested  to  me  that  Shelley  may  have  used  the  phrase  '  flower  of 
heaven '  not,  or  not  only,  because  he  thought  of  the  flower  called  aster,  but  from  a  recol- 
lection of  ^UTOV  ovpdvLov  in  Timaeus  80  A,  where  Plato  speaks  of  man  as  '  a  heavenly  plant, 
not  an  earthly.'  The  word  '  slavery,'  as  she  also  reminds  me,  refers  to  the  tradition  that 
Dionysius  had  Plato  sold  into  slavery. 


A.    C.    BRADLEY 


451 


Italian  poetry  (the  verb  appears  about  ten  times  in  the  Commedia,  e.g. 
Purg.  xxviii,  3,  translated  by  Shelley ;  in  Petrarch,  e.g.  T.  d.  Morte,  ii, 
90 ;  and,  I  may  add,  in  some  verses  by  Emilia  Viviani,  Dowden,  ii,  379). 
Where  he  uses  '  temper  to,'  the  meaning  seems  to  be  to  modify,  usually 
to  moderate  or  subdue,  this  or  that  so  as  to  make  it  suitable  to  this  or 
that :  see  Q.  Mab,  iv,  221,  the  reference  to  Purg.  above,  Charles  I,  n,  40, 
T.  L,  8  and  2761. 

What  then  is  the  meaning  of  '  temper  to  its  object '  ? 

(1)  'Object'  may  =  purpose  or  aim,  and  'its'  may  refer  to  'age/ 
etc.     Infamy,  e.g.,  an  agent  of  Life,  could  not  subdue  Rousseau's  heart 
into  conformity  with  infamy's  purpose. 

(2)  Dowden  must  have  construed  the   phrase  otherwise.     From 
Life  of  Shelley,  ii,  506,  and  Transcripts  and  Studies,  106,^it  follows  that 
he  took  'its'  to  refer  to  '  heart,'  and  'object'  to  mean  object  of  desire, 
and  understood  the  passage  thus:  This  (object)  had  really  only  a  rela- 
tive value ;  age,  etc.,  could  not  subdue  or  moderate  the  heart  so  as  to 
make  it  suit  this  relative  value  of  its  object ;    the  heart  persisted  in 
pursuing  that  object  as  absolutely  good.     The  desire  in  question  he 
seems  to  identify  with  love  (in  the  narrow  sense),  and  he  thinks  Plato's 
failure  the  same  as  Rousseau's,  except  that  his  love  was  nobler.     So- 
crates, on  the  other  hand,  did  temper  his  heart  to  its  object.     ('Object/ 
I  note,  may  quite  well  mean  objects,  or  whatever  from  time  to  time  was 
the  object.) 

This  interpretation  is  attractive,  and  it  seems  to  correspond  with 
Shelley's  conception  of  Rousseau ;  and  yet  I  do  not  find  it  convincing. 
One  cannot  argue  about  one's  '  instinct '  that  Shelley  did  not  mean  this 
or  that,  though  one  cannot  help  giving  weight  to  it ;  but  there  is  an 
objection  to  this  interpretation  that  can  be  formulated.  The  passage 
has  a  strong  formal  resemblance  to  the  Plato  passage  considered  in  the 
preceding  note,  and  the  two  are  separated  by  only  a  few  lines.  In  both, 
certain  things  are  mentioned  which  fail  to  subdue,  or  to  temper,  the 
heart.  Now,  in  the  Plato  passage,  the  success  of  those  things  would 
have  been  bad ;  but,  in  the  Rousseau  passage  as  construed  by  Dowden, 
it  would  have  been  good.  I  do  not  say  that  this  obstacle  is  fatal ;  but, 
considering  the  likeness  and  the  proximity  of  the  two  passages,  it  seems 
to  me  most  probable  that  in  the  Rousseau  one,  as  in  the  Plato  one,  the 
possible  success  of  the  agents  is  imagined  as  bad. 

(3)  Shelley  more  than  once  quotes  Shakespeare's  words  about  his 

1  The  meaning  here  seems  to  be :  The  great  ancient  poets,  in  expressing  passions  which 
they  had  quelled,  subdued  the  expression  of  them  so  as  to  make  it  suit  (i.e.  not  injure) 
readers  moved  by  those  passions. 


452  Notes  on  Shelley s  'Triumph  of  Life* 

nature  being  almost  '  subdued  to  what  it  works  in.'  It  is  possible  then 
to  take  our  passage  to  mean  :  Age,  etc.,  could  not  subdue  Rousseau's 
heart  into  conformity  with  its  element,  the  objects  or  things  surround- 
ing it;  these  objects  being  conceived  as  inadequate  to  the  heart,  and 
its  possible  subdual  as  bad.  The  difficulty  here  is  that  '  object,'  in  the 
required  sense,  is  naturally  used  only  for  an  object  of  perception  (or 
imagination  or  thought),  while  the  'object'  of  a  heart  can  only  natur- 
ally mean  an  object  of  desire,  love,  etc.  (nor  would  it  be  natural  for 
Shelley  to  write  'object'  in  the  singular,  if  he  meant  what  is  supposed 
by  this  interpretation).  Still,  if  one  could  believe  that  Shelley  meant 
what  is  supposed,  one  would  be  satisfied  with  the  meaning,  if  not  with 
the  writing. 

(4)  It  had  occurred  to  me  that  possibly  '  object '  is  a  misreading  of 
'abject,'  which  Shelley  uses  as  a  substantive  in  Prom.  Ill,  iv,  140 : 

Until  the  subject  of  a  tyrant's  will 
Became,  worse  fate,  the  abject  of  his  own. 

In  that  case,  'its'  would  refer  to  'age,'  etc.,  and  'temper  to  its  object' 
would  mean  '  transform  into  its  slave.'  But  this  rendering  would  in- 
volve a  use  of  '  temper  to '  for  which  I  can  find  no  parallel  in  Shelley. 

On  the  whole,  though  I  should  like  to  believe  in  interpretation  (2) 
or  (3),  I  think  (1)  the  most  probable. 

VIII.     327-30. 

Thou  wouldst  forget  thus  vainly  to  deplore 
Ills,  which  if  ills  can  find  no  cure  from  thee, 
The  thought  of  which  no  other  sleep  will  quell, 
Nor  other  music  blot  from  memory. 

Rousseau  is  describing  to  the  poet  the  '  oblivious  valley,'  with  its 
'  lethean '  stream,  where  he  awoke  and  where,  after  a  time,  the  Triumph 
appeared  to  him.  ' No  other  sleep'  or  ' music '  means  no  other  than  the 
sleep  and  music  of  this  valley. 

The  lines  have  a  deep  and  pathetic  interest,  because  they  tell  us  the 
nature  of  the  thoughts  referred  to  in  lines  21-2,  thoughts  which  had 
kept  the  poet  wakeful  through  the  whole  night.  They  '  must  remain 
untold,'  he  had  said ;  and  so,  as  regards  their  detail,  they  do ;  but  their 
bearing  is  here  disclosed.  They  were  broodings  over,  and  perhaps  self- 
reproaches  concerning,  the  '  ills '  of  his  past  years.  And  thus  the  lines 
recall  earlier  poems,  and  also  some  passages  in  late  letters ;  e.g.  that 
where  he  says  of  Faust,  'It  deepens  the  gloom  and  augments  the 
rapidity  of  ideas,  and  would  therefore  seem  to  me  an  unfit  study  for 
any  person  who  is  a  prey  to  the  reproaches  of  memory  and  the  delusions 


A.    C.    BRADLEY  453 

of  an  imagination  not  to  be  restrained'  (to  John  Gisborne,  April  10, 
1822). 

The  lines,  however,  are  not  free  from  difficulty.  (1)  They  would 
naturally  imply  that  Shelley  has  just  been  deploring  in  Rousseau's 
hearing  ('  thus ')  some  ills  of  the  past.  But  this  is  not  so.  How  then 
does  Rousseau  know  that  Shelley  is,  or  has  been,  deploring  such  ills  at 
all  ?  We  might  answer  that  Rousseau  reads  this  in  his  face,  and  does 
this  with  ease  because  in  very  important  respects  (as  we  readily  gather 
from  the  poem)  Shelley  resembles  him.  But  here  again  we  have, 
I  think,  the  influence  of  Dante,  since  in  various  passages  of  the  Cam- 
media  Virgil  is  represented  as  knowing  what  is  passing  in  Dante's  mind. 
Possibly,  too,  we  should  remember  ideas  which  appear  elsewhere  in 
Shelley  and  (e.g.  31  ff.)  in  the  Triumph  (though  they  are  not  developed 
in  the  fragment  written) — ideas  of  a  mode  of  being,  other  than  '  life ' ; 
pre-existent,  perhaps  post-existent,  possibly  somehow  subsistent  below 
'  life '  and  even  now  accessible  to  some  extent ;  a  mode  of  being  or 
experience  in  which  Rousseau  and  Shelley  (or  what  of  them  is  not 
'  mortal,'  254)  are  in  closer  contact  than  that  of  two  waking  men. 

(2)  What  is  the  meaning  of  the  qualification  '  if  ills '  ?  The  ob- 
vious answer  is  that  Rousseau  disclaims  such  a  knowledge  of  Shelley's 
past  as  would  enable  him  to  judge  whether  Shelley's  ills  really  were 
ills,  while  he  is  sure  that  in  any  case  it  is  vain  to  deplore  the  past. 
(That  remorse  is  irrational  and  purely  mischievous  was  a  tenet  of 
Godwin's  to  which  Shelley  had  been  wedded,  whether  or  no  he  still 
felt  sure  of  its  truth.)  But  I  am  not  certain  that  this  answer  is  right. 
The  words  may  imply  a  doubt  on  Shelley's  own  part  about  the  ills  that 
haunted  him.  Life,  he  may  have  felt,  is  so  inexplicable,  and  so  much 
ill  seems  to  spring  from  what  we  once  thought  good  and  even  superla- 
tively good,  that  we  can  have  no  certainty  as  to  the  ultimate  ill  of  what 
seems,  and  even  haunts  us  as,  ill.  Possibly,  again,  he  is  using  the  idea 
which  often  appears  in  his  writings,  and  best  in  the  conclusion  of  the 
Sensitive  Plant,  that  everything  in  life  except  what  is  '  pure '  or  '  divine' 
is  '  unreal,'  or  '  phantasmal,'  or  a  '  mockery.' 

IX.     334. 

Like  this  harsh  world  in  which  I  wake  to  weep. 

I  wish  to  withdraw  a  suggestion  in  the  Notes  on  Passages  already 
referred  to,  that  '  wake '  is  a  misreading  of  '  woke.'  Line  4MO,  '  Through 
the  sick  day  in  which  we  wake  to  weep '  (to  which  Mr  Locock  has  drawn 
attention)  shows  that  Rousseau  regards  himself  as  living  still,  like 


454  Notes  on  Shelley  s  'Triumph  of  Life 

Shelley,  through  a  '  day '  consisting  of  many  days.     '  This  harsh  world ' 
is,  of  course,  an  echo  from  Hamlet. 

X.     343-4. 

And,  as  I  looked,  the  bright  omnipresence 
Of  morning  through  the  orient  cavern  flowed. 

It  will  be  found  on  investigation  that  this  cavern,  already  mentioned 
in  313,  is  '  orient '  in  the  sense  that  it  is  an  opening  in  the  mountain 
which  rises  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  valley  where.  Rousseau  stands. 
The  cavern  therefore  opens  to  the  west.  How  then  can  the  rising  sun 
flow  through  it  ?  This  question,  with"  others  about  the  passage  that 
follows,  can  be  answered,  I  believe,  only  on  the  hypothesis  that  the 
cavern  is  not  a  cavern  in  the  usual  sense,  but  the  roofed  opening  of 
a  deep  gorge  or  ravine  which  rends  the  mountain  from  top  to  bottom, 
and  through  which  the  morning  sun  shines. 

This  was  suggested  to  me  by  the  obscure  description  in  Alastor,  be- 
ginning at  351,  where  also  a  'cavern'  appears  which  seemed  intelligible 
only  on  the  same  hypothesis.  The  reader  may  compare  the  following 
passages,  in  some  of  which  '  cavern '  seems  to  be  used  in  a  loose  way  (I 
do  not  mean  that  he  will  find  the  same  hypothesis  necessary  in  them). 
In  Revolt  of  Islam,  VI,  xxix,  a  stream  appears  to  flow  through  caverns. 
In  Cenci,  in,  i,  243  ff.,  a  mountain  '  yawns '  into  a  '  ravine/  as  here  it 
'yawns  into  a  cavern'  (313).  In  Triumph,  71,  Epip.  441,  Athanase, 
182,  'cavern,'  though  it  does  not  mean  what  I  take  it  to  mean  here, 
seems  not  to  be  a  hollow  in  something  hard  like  rock,  ice,  or  even  earth, 
but  a  deep  woody  recess. 

XL     384-5. 

and  soon 

All  that  was,  seemed  as  if  it  had  been  not ; 
And  all  the  gazer's  mind  was  strewn  beneath 
Her  feet  like  embers;   and  she,  thought  by  thought, 
Trampled  its  sparks  into  the  dust  of  death. 

'She'  is  the  'Shape,'  who  might  therefore  be  hastily  taken  for  a 
malevolent  being;  and  this  mistake  might  be  confirmed  by  the  fact 
that  Rousseau's  draught  from  her  crystal  glass  is  followed  by  the 
appearance  of  the  car.  To  interpret  this  fact  would  take  too  long ; 
but  what  Shelley  describes  in  the  lines  quoted  is  the  effect  of  a 
revelation  of  the  ideal  in  obliterating  the  modes  of  thought  and  feeling 
habitual  before  that  revelation.  The  'death'  of  the  last  line  is  the 
'  Death '  of  Epip.  72, 

She  met  me,  Stranger,  upon  life's  rough  way, 
And  lured  me  toward  sweet  Death; 


A.    C.    BRADLEY  455 

or  the  '  radiant  death '  which  the  moth  seeks  in  the  star  (Epip.  223). 
Cf.  Rosalind,  1125-9.  In  the  lines  following  our  quotation  the 
trampling  of  the  sparks  is  compared,  not  with  the  extinction  of  day 
by  night,  but  with  the  '  treading  out '  of  the  lamps  of  night  by  day, 
and  the  Shape  is  said  to  come  like  day,  making  the  night  a  dream. 
That  the  Shape  is  a  thing  of  light  or,  like  the  Wii^h  of  Atlas,  a  daughter 
of  the  Sun,  i.e.  some  manifestation  or  other  of  the  ideal,  is  certain.  Cf. 
note  on  the  Introduction;  also  Witch  of  Atlas,  xii,  and  for  her  'crystal 
bowl/  Ixix  ff. 

XII.     425-6. 

The  presence  of  that  Shape  which  on  the  stream 
Moved,  as  I  moved  along  the  wilderness. 

We  have  not  heard  of  this  '  wilderness '  till  now.  The  first  thought 
of  a  reader  will  probably  be  that  it  is,  in  the  common  phrase,  the  wilder- 
ness or  desert  of  life.  He  may  then  reflect  that  the  beautiful  forest- 
valley  so  far  described  seems  to  leave  no  room  for  a  wilderness,  and 
may  conclude  that  this  forest-valley  itself  is  what  Shelley  means  by 
'wilderness/  since  that  word  is  occasionally  used  by  him  not  for  a 
desert  place  but  for  a  beautiful  wild  place.  Shelley,  however,  after 
mentioning  the  wilderness  again  (443),  calls  it  a  '  desert '  (449) ;  and 
that  word  he  always  uses  with  its  common  meaning.  I  believe  this 
wilderness  or  desert  is  simply  the  '  path,'  '  track/  or  '  way '  (433,  459, 
518,  535),  along  which  the  Triumph  advances  through  the  forest. 
This  is  the  same  'way'  which,  at  a  further  stage  in  the  advance  of 
the  Triumph,  after  it  has  ascended  the  western  slope  of  the  valley 
(470),  has  become  that  'public  way,  thick  strewn  with  summer  dust/ 
which  the  poet  himself  sees  -covered  by  the  people  in  front  of  the  car 
(43).  I  think  this,  not  only  or  chiefly  because  of  the  difficulty  of  finding 
room  for  a  wilderness  or  desert  in  the  usual  sense,  but  because  the  idea 
fits  in  with  all  the  passages  where  the  words  occur.  Thus,  in  425-6, 
Rousseau,  joining  the  procession,  moves  '  along  the  wilderness/  while 
the  Shape,  now  dim,  moves,  parallel  with  him,  on  the  stream  in  the 
forest.  It  keeps  its  '  obscure  tenour '  '  beside  my  path '  (433).  Directly 
afterwards  Shelley  writes,  of  the  Triumph  and  its  car, 

And  underneath  aethereal  glory  clad 
The  wilderness; 

i.e.  the  '  track '  or  '  way '  under  the  car  (442).     Then  he  says  (447)  that 

some  of  the  crowd 

upon  the  new 

Embroidery  of  flowers,  that  did  enhance 
The  grassy  vesture  of  the  desert,  played, 
Forgetful  of  the  chariot's  swift  advance; 


456  Notes  on  Shelley  s  'Triumph  of  Life' 

that  is  to  say,  they  played  on  the  flowery  grass  with  which  the  forest 
clothed  the  sides  of  the  track — the  edges  of  '  that  path  where  flowers 
never  grew '(65).  The  forest  with  its  grass  and  flowers,  its  streams 
and  birds  and  breezes,  is  the  realm  not  of  Life  but  of  the  ideal.  It 
is  '  la  divina  foresta/  and  the  home  of  the  Golden  Age  of  the  old  poets 
(Purg.  xxviii,  2,  139  ff.).  '  Life's  rough  way,'  '  the  broad  highway  of  the 
world'  (Epip.  71, 157),  which  ' crosses '  (435)  or  runs  through  this  forest, 
is  '  the  desert  of  our  life '  ^Prorn.  n,  i,  12)1. 

A.  C.  BRADLEY. 
LONDON. 

1  I  do  not  mean,  of  course,  that  this  imagery  is  used  consistently  throughout  Shelley's 
poems.  In  Epip.  249,  321,  our  life  itself  is  a  forest,  wintry  and  obscure,  a  wilderness  of 
thorns.  I  take  this  opportunity  of  correcting  a  mistake  in  Notes  on  Passages,  etc.,  1905, 
no.  16,  where  I  expressed  misgivings  about  the  word  'kill'  in  Epip.  557.  Mr  Rossetti 
reminded  me,  to  my  shame,  that  it  is  a  reminiscence  of  Troilus  and  Cressida,  iv,  ii,  4. 


SPENSER'S   'MUIOPOTMOS. 

TBE  late  Professor  Francis  James  Child,  whose  memory  must  ever 
be  revered  by  those  who  had  the  privilege  of  studying  under  him, 
summed  up  his  view  of  Muiopotmos  as  follows1:  'An  enthusiastic  critic 
has  pronounced  this  airy  little  poem  the  most  beautiful  thing  in 
Spenser  out  of  the  magic  circle  of  the  Fairy  Queen;  but  with  all  its 
graces,  it  is  deficient  in  that  minute  pencilling  of  nature  which  the 
character  of  the  piece  required,  and  though  carefully  elaborated,  it  is 
not  picturesque.  If  Muiopotmos  be  meant  for  anything  more  than  a 
simple  tale  of  a  spider  and  a  fly,  or  a  fable  with  the  general  moral  of 
the  insecurity  of  youth  and  happiness,  the  enigma  which  it  contains 
defies  solution.'  I  do  not  propose  to  discuss  Professor  Child's  excep- 
tional distaste  for  Muiopotmos,  which  leads  him  here  to  take  issue  with 
Christopher  North2,  but  to  offer  a  solution  of  the  enigma  which  throws 
some  light  on  Spenser's  personal  interests  and  his  method  of  treating 
the  subject. 

The  first  hint  that  more  may  be  meant  than  meets  the  ear  appears 
in  the  preface  to  Ralph  Church's  edition  of  the  Faerie  Queene3 : 
1  Whether  it  [Muiopotmos]  alludes  to  the  death  of  any  promising  Youth, 
we  know  not.'  More  positively  George  L.  Craik  declares4:  'The 
narrative  thus  solemnly  introduced  can  hardly  be  a  mere  story  of  a 
spider  and  a  fly.'  He  considers  the  poem  a  '  veiled  representation '  of 
'real  events.'  This  suggestion  J.  W.  Hales  adopted5.  On  the  other 
hand  most  editors  and  commentators,  among  them  Jortin,  Todd,  Mitford, 
G.  S.  Billiard,  R.  W.  Church,  A.  B.  Grosart,  R.  E.  N.  Dodge,  and 

E.  de  Selincourt  either   are   silent   or   regard   its   story  as   'a   mere 
nothing ' ;  while  J.  P.  Collier,  having  in  mind  Hey  wood's  The  Spider 
and  the  Fly6,  remains  undecided.      Lowell,  however,  in  his  essay  on 

1  The  Poetical  Works  of  Edmund  Spenser,     Boston,  1855.     p.  xxxv. 

2  Blackwood's  Magazine,  Nov.,  1833.     Equally  appreciative  comments  are  made  by 

F.  T.  Palgrave  (Grosart's  Spenser,  iv,  Ixx)  and  by  J.  K.  Lowell  in  his  essay  on  Spenser. 

3  London,  1758,  i,  p.  xxv.  4  Spenser.     London,  1845,  i,  pp.  172-3. 
6  The  Globe  Spenser,  p.  xlvi. 

6  The    Works   of  Edmund   Spenser.     London,   1862,  i,  p.   Ixxxvi.     Heywood's   poem 
presents  no  parallel  with  Spenser's. 

M.  L.  R.  IX.  30 


458  Spenser  s  'Muiopotmos' 

Spenser1,  is  convinced  that  '  in  Clarion  the  butterfly  he  has  symbolized 
himself;  and  Palgrave  suggests2  that  Clarion  'represents  the  ideal  of 
a  gallant  youth.'  To  the  contrary,  Nadal  in  his  unconvincing  argu- 
ment3 that  Spenser  here  imitates  Chaucer's  Sir  Thopas  and  Nuns 
Priest's  Tale,  would  remove  all  occasion  for  allegorical  interpretation. 
The  poem,  it  will  be  recalled,  is  dedicated  to  Lady  Carey,  the  court 
patroness  to  whom  Spenser  was  at  the  time  paying  the  poetic  tribute 
of  conventional  amorous  service.  It  is  in  his  dedication  of  this  poem 
that  Spenser  avows  to  her :  *  I  haue  determined  to  giue  my  selfe  wholy 
to  you,  as  quite  abandoned  from  my  selfe,  and  absolutely  vowed  to  your 
services.'  Lest  any  doubt  the  purport  of  these  words  (paralleled 
though  they  are  in  Amoretti  xxix),  I  cite  the  following  passage  from 
Gascoigne4 : 

He  wrote  unto  a  Skotish  Darne  whom  he  chose  for  his  mistresse  in  the  French 
Court,  as  followeth. 

Lady,  receyve,... 
This  ragged  verse,... 

Too  base  an  object  for  your  heavenly  eyes, 
For  he  that  writes  his  freedome  (lo)  resignes 
Into  your  handes:   and  freely  yeelds  as  thrall 
His  sturdy  necke.... 

On  a  similar  occasion,  in  Grange's  The  Golden  Aphroditis,  the  hero 
declares:  'Lady... I  am  content  to  yeelde  my  selfe  thy  man  and  not 
mine  owne.' 

Since  Spenser  accompanies  this  dedication  of  himself  to  Lady  Carey 
with  a  poem,  one  looks  for  a  measure  of  appropriateness  in  its  theme. 
And  that  the  poem  must  have  had  for  Lady  Carey  at  least  a  certain 
esoteric  significance  is  evident5  from  his  parting  request :  '  Of  all  things 
therein  according  to  your  wonted  graciousness  to  make  a  milde 
construction.'  Her  natural  interpretation  of  the  poem  must  therefore 
be  such  as  she  would  be  likely  to  make  with  mingled  feelings  of 
pleasure  and  displeasure. 

Again,  since  Spenser  in  choosing  on  this  occasion  to  treat  the 
capture  and  death  of  a  butterfly  in  the  web  of  a  spider,  adopted  the 
stanza  of  Ariosto  and  a  mock  heroic  tone6 : 

I  sing  of  deadly  dolorous  debate, 

Stir'd  up  by  wrathfull  Nemesis  despight,... 

1  North  American  Review,  April,  1875,  p.  365.  2  Grosart's  Spenser,  iv,  p.  Ixx. 

3  Mod.  Lang.  Association,  Publ.,  December,  1910,  pp.  640-656.     It  is  noticed,  perhaps 
adequately,  by  R.  E.  Neil  Dodge  in  'A  Sermon  on  Source-Hunting.'     Modern  Philology, 
October,  1911,  pp.  211-223. 

4  Cunliffe's  Gascoigne,  i,  p.  331. 

5  Nadal  (pp.   643-4)   regards   this   as  entreating  charitable  judgment   for  aesthetic 
deficiencies.     But  construction  will  bear  no  other  sense  than  '  take  my  good  meaning. ' 

6  Dodge's  Spenser,  p.  116. 


PERCY  W.  LONG  459 

one  can  hardly  fancy  that  so  serious  a  subject  as  Craik  suggested — an 
actual  death — would  be  felt  to  be  in  good  taste.  Comparison  with 
Daphnaida  and  Astrophel  will  emphasize  the  incongruity.  Rather,  the 
subject  must  be  of  the  graceful,  buoyant  nature  of  the  poem — must 
admit  of  pleasantry.  And  such  a  subject,  in  fact,  must  have  been  so 
immediately  apparent  to  the  Elizabethan  court  circle  that  comment 
would  appear  supererogatory. 

Every  schoolboy  who  had  read  his  first  eclogue  of  Mantuan — and 
that  Spenser  knew  Mantuan  well  is  evident  from  frequent  imitations 
and  acknowledgments  in  the  Shepherds  Calendar — would  be  familiar 
with  the  lines  (42,  43) : 

me  mea  Galla  suo  sic  circumvenerat  ore 

ut  captam  pedicis  circumdat  arenea  muscam.     «* 

Turberville  in  1567  had  translated  these  lines  as  follows : 

My  little  girle  that  Galba  hight 

had  so  entrapped  mee 
With  feature  of  hir  friendly  face 

and  lookes  of  louyng  eye, 
As  in  hir  crafty  cobweb  doth 

Arachne  catche  the  flye. 

The  suggestion  will  be  conveyed  at  once  that  Spenser  in  Muiopotmos 
represents  his  captivity  to  the  charms  of  Lady  Carey.  To  figure  his 
beloved  as  a  spider — a  '  cursed  creature ' — in  a  poem  dedicated  to  her- 
self may  appear  indeed  to  require  a  '  milde  construction.'  Yet  it  will 
be  noted  that  Spenser  nowhere  dwells  on  the  physical  deformities  of 
the  spider — as  would  be  natural — in  contrast  to  the  elaborate  description 
of  the  graces  of  Clarion.  Moreover,  Renaissance  precedent  was  ample 
for  the  comparison  of  one's  beloved  to  various  cruel  and  sanguinary 
monsters.  Spenser  himself  in  the  Amoretti  compares  Elizabeth  to  a 
lion  and  lioness  (Amor,  xx),  a  panther  (Amor,  liii),  and  a  tiger 
(Amor.  Ivi).  As  Aragnoll  is  a  tyrant  (1.  433),  he  complains  of  his 
lady's  tyranny  (Amor,  xliii  and  Sonnet  to  Lady  Carey):  as  Aragnoll 
sheds  the  butterfly's  blood  (1.  439),  his  lady  is  guilty  of  '  spilling  guilt- 
lesse  blood '  (Amor,  xxxviii).  Indeed,  Gascoigne  had  addressed  one  of 
his  ladies,  in  A  Sonet  written  in  prayse  of  the  browne  beautie1,  using  this 
very  simile  of  the  spider  and  the  fly : 

The  thriftless  thred  which  pampred  beauty  spinnes, 
In  thraldom  binds  the  foolish  gazing  eyes: 
As  cruell  Spiders  with  their  crafty  ginnes, 

the  sir 


In  worthlesse  webbes  doe  snare  the  simple  Flies. 
1  Cunliffe's  Gascoigne,  i,  p.  332. 


30—2 


460  Spenser  s  'Muiopotmos  ' 

It  should  be  evident  what  general  interpretation  the  Elizabethan 
reader  would  give  of  the  poem  as  a  whole.  To  press  the  parallel 
further,  looking  for  minute  correspondences  in  the  equations  Clarion 
=  Spenser,  and  Aragnoll  =  Lady  Carey,  would  be  to  encounter  at  once 
evidence  that  the  poet  had  no  such  intention.  It  is  forbidden  by  the 
long  passage  adapted  from  Ovid's  Metamorphoses ;  it  is  anticipated  by 
the  fact  that  both  spider  and  butterfly  are  male1.  One  would  not  press 
too  closely  the  details  of  Ko  Ko's  song  in  the  Mikado  about  the  little 
tomtit.  It  is  sufficient  for  his  purpose  to  point  the  moral : 

And  if  you  remain  callous  and  obdurate,  I 
Will  perish  as  he  did,  and  you  will  know  why. 

Mr  J.  C.  Smith,  alluding  to  Muiopotmos  in  an  article  on  the 
Amoretti*,  perceived  as  through  a  glass  darkly  the  purport  of  the  poem. 
He  would  have,  with  finer  courtesy,  Spenser  to  be  the  spider,  and  the 
lady  to  be  the  butterfly.  He  sees  its  inspiration  not  in  literary 
convention  but  in  the  personal  experience  of  lady  and  poet.  The  point 
of  departure  is  given  by  Spenser's  sonnet  (Amor.  Ixxi)  concerning 
Elizabeth's  embroidery : 

I  joy  to  see  how  in  your  drawen  work, 

Your  selfe  unto  the  Bee  ye  doe  compare; 

and  me  unto  the  Spyder  that  doth  lurke, 

in  close  awayt  to  catch  her  unaware. 

Right  so  your  selfe  were  caught  in  cunning  snare 

of  a  deare  foe,  and  thralled  to  his  loue. 

Mr  Smith  suggests:  'What  is  this,  in  effect,  but  the  theme  of 
Muiopotmos  ?  Is  it  fanciful  to  infer  that  the  sight  of  Lady  Carey  at 
just  such  a  piece  of  "drawn-work"  may  in  fact  have  inspired  that 
poem  ? ' 

It  must  be  said  at  once  that  the  sonnet  can  hardly  precede  the 
poem.  The  former  represents  intimacy  after  the  relations  of  lover  and 
mistress  are  fully  established;  whereas  Muiopotmos  represents  the 
lover's  prior  vow  of  service.  Moreover,  from  its  place  in  the  sequence 
after  Easter  (Amor.  Ixviii)  in  the  second  year,  it  cannot  refer  to  a  date 
earlier  than  1591 — a  date  therefore  subsequent  to  the  printing  of 
Muiopotmos  in  1590. 

It  is  only  shortly  before  the  second  Easter  that  Spenser  represents 
his  love  as  yielding.  To  have  represented  it  in  Muiopotmos  would, 
then,  have  reversed  not  only  the  convention  of  the  literary  theme, 

1  It  might  be  urged  that  the  spider  represents  only  the  lady's  cruelty  and  disdain,  her 
ensemble  of  qualities  being  the  garden  in  which  Clarion  disports  himself  (11.  161-208  and 
241-8).     Spenser  likens  his  lady's  lips  to  such  a  garden  (Amoretti  Ixiv).     This,  however, 
seems  over-subtle. 

2  Mod.  Lang.  Rev.,  July,  1910,  pp.  279-80. 


PERCY    W.  .LONG  461 

but  equally  the  facts  in  the  case.  Again,  Spenser's  representation 
(Amor.  Ixvii)  of  the  lady's  yielding — as  a  deer  voluntarily  approaching 
to  the  tired  huntsman — is  incongruous  with  the  enmeshing  of  Clarion 
by  Aragnoll. 

Rather,  the  sonnet  is  to  be  taken  as  a  retort  to  the  poem.  Referring 
as  it  does  to  a  period  after  the  poem  was  not  only  dedicated  but  printed, 
its  intention  as  an  allusion  seems  indisputable.  If  so,  the  allusion 
would  have  the  more  point  if  it  were  antithetical.  Indeed,  Spenser's 
lady  is  represented  earlier  (Amor,  xxix)  as  wresting  Spenser's  thought 
to  suit  her  ends  : 

See  how  the  stubborne  damzell  doth  depraue 
iny  simple  meaning  with  disdaynfull  scorne : 
and  by  the  bay  which  I  unto  her  gaue,  ^ 

accoumpts  my  selfe  her  captiue  quite  forlorne. 

The  bay  (quoth  she)  is  of  the  victours  borne,... 

The  sonnet,  therefore,  contrary  to  Mr  Smith's  suggestion,  displays  not 
the  theme  of  Muiopotmos,  but  the  pointed  reversal  of  its  theme. 

There  is,  indeed,  a  sonnet  (Amor,  xxiii)  in  which  Spenser  represents 
himself  as  the  weaver  of  the  web.  It  occurs  just  after  the  first  Easter 
sonnet,  and  therefore  probably  prior  to  the  writing  of  Muiopotmos.  In 
it  Spenser  alludes  to  Penelope's  web  woven  to  discourage  her  suitors. 
So,  he  says,  his  lady  renders  naught  his  machinations : 

For  all  that  I  in  many  dayes  doo  weave 

In  one  short  houre  I  tinde  by  her  undonne... 

Such  labour  like  the  spyders  web  I  fynd, 

Whose  fruitlesse  worke  is  broken  with  least  wynd. 

Here,  to  be  sure,  the  poet  plays  the  part  of  the  spider ;  and  Mr  Smith's 
case  would  have  benefited  by  citation  of  this  instance.  The  sonnet 
might  have  seemed  an  opportune  approach  to  the  poem.  Nevertheless, 
at  that  stage  in  the  complimentary  courtship  the  poem  would  appear  a 
presumptuous  prophecy  of  success,  quite  out  of  keeping  with  the  poet's 
conventional  attitude  of  humble  solicitation  and  despair.  Moreover,  in 
this  event  there  would  have  been  no  poirit  in  omitting  all  description  of 
the  physical  deformities  of  the  spider. 

The  snare  in  which  the  lady  entangles  her  lover,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  not  only  conventional  in  Renaissance  love  poetry — a  fact  which  in 
itself  renders  unnecessary  the  assumption  of  an  inspiration  from  real 
life — but  occurs  in  Spenser's  love  poetry  much  earlier  than  the  mention 
of  his  lady's  drawn  work.  In  the  sonnet  (Amor,  xxxvii)  devoted  to  a 
'net  of  gold'  in  which  Elizabeth  attires  'her  golden  tresses,'  he 
questions : 


462  Spenser s  'Muiopotmos' 

Is  it  that  mens  frayle  eyes,  which  gaze  too  bold, 

She  may  entangle  in  that  golden  snare, 

And  being  caught,  may  craftily  enfold 

Theyr  weaker  harts,  which  are  not  wel  aware? 

Indeed  the  conception  of  network  as  a  feminine  lure  to  love,  comparable 
to  the  spider's  web,  appears  in  Spenser  in  Book  n  of  the  Faerie  Queene. 
The  passage,  however  lately  written,  will  hardly  be  taken  as  suggested 
by  his  courtly  mistress  in  propria  persona,  since  it  occurs  in  his 
description  of  the  evil  witch  Acrasia  (n,  xii,  77),  representative  of 
physical  pleasures  unallied  to  the  higher  Platonic  inspiration  of  her 
eyes  which  (Amor,  viii)  '  lead  fraile  mindes  to  rest  In  chaste  desires,  on 
heavenly  beauty  bound.'  Quite  otherwise  he  represents  Acrasia  as 
'  dight  to  pleasant  sin,'  reposing  on  a  bed  of  roses : 

Arayd,  or  rather  disarayd, 
All  in  a  vele  of  silke  and  silver  thin, 
That  hid  no  whit  her  alablaster  skin, 
But  rather  shewd  more  white  if  more  might  bee: 
More  subtle  web  Arachne  cannot  spin.... 

In  short,  we  may  take  Muiopotmos  as  a  rather  extended  treatment 
of  a  theme  familiar  to  Elizabethan  love  poetry.  It  is  indeed  '  carefully 
elaborated ' ;  but  the  foregoing  explanation  will  probably  make  clear  why 
that  'minute  pencilling  of  nature,'  the  absence  of  which  vitiated  the 
poem  for  Professor  Child,  was  in  this  instance  not  germane  to  Spenser's 
purpose.  Although  the  poem  be  little  more  than  'the  mere  tale  of 
a  spider  and  a  fly,'  Lowell  is  right  in  maintaining  that  Clarion 
represents  Spenser.  And  the  occasion  which  prompted  it  explains 
in  a  measure  why  Lowell  should  find  in  what  overtly  purports  to  be 
a  catastrophe  'the  most  airily  fanciful  of  his  poems,  a  marvel  for 
delicate  conception  and  treatment,  whose  breezy  verse  seems  to  float 
between  a  blue  sky  and  golden  earth  in  imperishable  sunshine.' 

PERCY  W.  LONG. 

CAMBRIDGE,  MASS. 


THE   'ANCREN   RIWLE'1 

III 

THE  ADDITIONAL  PASSAGES 

A  good  deal  of  interest  attaches  to  the  passages  which  are  found  in 
the  Corpus  MS.  and  not  in  the  other  thirteenth  century  copies  of  the 
English  text.  Though  they  may  be  additions  to  the  original  book,  yet 
they  cannot  be  of  much  later  date,  and  they  add  both  further  illustra- 
tions of  the  life  of  the  period,  and  further  materials  for  the  study  of  the 
language.  They  vary,  of  course,  considerably  in  importance :  some  are 
quite  short,  and  others  are  of  no  great  interest.  It  is  interesting, 
however,  to  note  in  the  second  of  the  passages  cited  the  precautions 
urged  upon  the  anchoress  with  regard  to  shewing  herself  unveiled  and 
the  fact  that  they  are  expressly  extended  to  the  case  of  a  bishop's  visit, 
and  also  how  in  the  third  she  is  advised,  while  shewing  all  proper  respect 
to  a  friar,  to  make  her  confession  to  him,  if  at  all,  in  very  guarded  and 
general  terms,  a  counsel  that  is  quite  in  the  spirit  of  other  passages  in 
the  Ancren  Riwle,  which  suggest  distrust  of  those  confessors  who  are 
not  thoroughly  known  and  tried,  e.g.  p.  344.  Still  more  important  is 
the  next  (4),  which  contains  writing  as  eloquent  and  forcible  as  is  any- 
where to  be  found  in  the  Ancren  Riwle ;  while  the  succeeding  addition 
(5)  is  full  of  interest  from  its  references  to  social  manners  and  to  methods 
of  artificial  adornment.  In  the  eighth  passage  we  note  the  desire  of 
the  writer  to  bring  all  the  communities  of  anchoresses  in  England  as 
far  as  possible  under  one  rule,  so  that  the  separate  societies  of  London, 
Oxford,  Shrewsbury  and  Chester  may  all  be  as  one  convent.  Those 
whom  the  writer  addresses  are  spoken  of  as  the  '  mother  house '  from 
which  others  have  taken  their  rise,  and  he  seems  to  point  to  some 
irregularity  which  is  to  be  regretted.  In  the  later  passages  a  number 
of  details  are  added  also  to  the  precepts  on  domestic  matters  which  we 
have  in  the  concluding  part.  It  is  satisfactory  to  be  able  to  record  the 
emphatic  testimony  in  favour  of  cleanliness,  'Nes  neauer  fulSe  godd  leof/ 

1  Concluded  from  p.  331. 


464  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

A  considerable  amount  of  linguistic  material  is  also  to  be  found  in 
these  texts.  Already  in  the  course  of  collation  several  occurrences  or 
uses  of  words  have  been  noted  in  the  text  of  B  which  have  not  hitherto 
been  recorded  in  Middle  English1;  and  the  additional  passages  yield  a 
further  harvest  of  considerable  interest.  Some  examples  are  here  given 
under  the  reference  numbers  of  the  passages : 

(4)  sacurne,  apparently  meaning  '  scornful ' ;  meanildes,  '  com- 
plainers/  cursildes,  '  cursers/  chidildes,  '  chiders/  with  the  feminine 
termination  which  we  have  in  'grucchild/  p.  108,  1.  9  (also  in 'this 
passage),  and  '  cheapild,'  p.  418,  7  ;  dig  gin,  a  much  earlier  example 
than  those  hitherto  recorded ;  peonsin,  meaning  '  to  be  fretful/  so 
'  pense '  in  East  Anglian  dialect  (see  N.E.D.  '  pense  ') ;  sinecin  hire 
wordes  (?),  corresponding  to  '  engressement  et  anguissousement  parler ' 
in  the  French :  (5)  crenge  in  the  sense  of  'strut,'  probably  from  the  idea 
of  turning  the  neck  about  in  an  arrogant  manner,  as  in  the  phrase 
'  crenge  wiS  swire,'  which  occurs  in  the  same  passage  lower  down,  and 
also  in  Seinte  Marherete,  '  crenchen  [mid]  swire ' ;  binde  seode  mid  te 
muft,  '  purse  up  the  mouth,'  evidently  the  O.E.  '  seod/  '  purse,'  which 
does  not  seem  to  be  elsewhere  recorded  in  M.E. ;  scuter  signe,  corre- 
sponding to  the  Latin  'derisorium  signum/  cp.  O.N.  'skuta/  'skutyrSi'; 
ouegart,  '  excessive,'  cp.  '  ouengart,'  '  awgart,'  '  ougard '  (subst.)  in  the 
Cursor  Mundi',  scleaterunge,  'smearing  over,'  cp.  'slat/  'slatter'  (N.E.D.)', 
fluftrunges  (?) ',  bencin(?):  (6)  grennen,  'entrap,'  much  earlier  than  any 
previously  recorded  example  in  M.E. :  (8)  teowi,  perhaps  akin  to  '  tew ' 
(verb),  cp.  N.E.D.  '  tewsome ' ;  meapeft,  (apparently)  '  wanders/  cp. 
N.E.D.  '  map/  v2,  and  '  mope  ' ;  teilac,  perhaps  from  '  teag '  and  '  -lac/ 
meaning 'entanglement' :  (11)  cumeft  iswenchet:  (14)  criblin(T)\  taueles, 
perhaps  'lace/  i.e.  'lace-making/  cp.  Fr.  'tavelle':  (16)  earunder, 
ouerunder,  'before  undern/  'after  undern';  for  'ouerunder'  see  N.E.D. 
'  mid-ouerundern/  and  Mod.  Lang.  Review,  vol.  vin,  p.  163 ;  ticki 
togederes,  '  touch  one  another/  or  '  tickle  one  another/  a  verb  which  is 
not  recorded  elsewhere  in  English  earlier  than  the  16th  century,  though 
'  tickle  '  is  found  in  the  14th. 

Of  the  nineteen  passages  enumerated  above  (p.  150)  the  three 
shortest  have  already  been  given  in  the  collation,  and  the  remainder  are 

1  For  example:  cnost,  2,  11;  xemeles  (subst.),  46,  26;  sneater  (subst.),  82,  11;  cwich 
ne  cweft,  122,  9;  trochen  (  =  exchange),  146,  26;  prinscipe  (  =  niggardliness),  202,  20;  seac, 
224,  30;  childene  (  =  childish),  242,  11;  burgur,  242,  24;  fealh,  266,  28;  smuhel,  278,  7; 
ragget  (subst.),  284,  16(0);  amainet,  288,  23;  dragse,  292J  29;  ^eddeft  (  =  commonly  say), 
312,  20;  scheome  (  =  shameful),  322,  2  etc. ;  yschake  (  =  violent),  344,  3;  wel  mei  duh'en, 
356,  11;  tolaimet,  362,  21;  elheowet,  368,  2;  leasken  of,  408,  15;  tweast,  412,  25;  gruuesi, 
428,  4. 


G.    C.    MACAULAY 


465 


here  printed.  In  these  the  abbreviations  have  been  expanded,  and  are 
indicated  by  italics,  except  in  the  cases  '  7  '  and  '  -p  ' ;  the  punctuation  is 
that  of  the  manuscript,  but  for  S  a  comma  is  regularly  substituted.  In 
cases  where  the  passage  is  found  in  other  English  manuscripts,  in  the 
French  text,  or  in  the  Latin  version,  readings  from  these  are  cited  where 
they  are  of  any  interest.  It  may  be  remarked  that  in  a  few  places  the 
passages  which  are  found  also  in  the  French  text  seem  to  afford  evidence 
that  this  latter  is  the  original ;  for  example  in  the  second  passage  the 
expression  '  dreit  par  la  veniance  dieu '  is  a  more  natural  one  than  '  Jmrh 
riht  godes  wrake/  in  the  third,  '  seggeS  •  ear  ]?en  he  parti,  mea  culpa ' 
looks  like  an  incorrect  translation  of  'dites  auant  ceo  qil  partient-  mea 
culpa,'  and  in  the  fourth,  '  ele  deit  asseer  ses  paroles  '  is  certainly  prefer- 
able to  '  jef  ha  setteS  hire  J>ohtes,'  which  indeed  is  nonsense  as  it  stands. 
On  the  other  hand  the  French  '  telde  '  (i.e. '  telde ')  looks  like  an  adapta- 
tion of  the  English  word,  but  there  may  have  been  an  Anglo-French 
verb  '  telder,'  used  in  this  technical  sense. 

(1)  After  Morton,  p.  42,  1.  30  (last  line).  This  passage  is  found 
also  in  the  French,  f.  8,  standing  here  a  few  lines  later  (after  '  awakenen/ 
p.  44,  1.  9). 

f.  10  v°     pus  ich  biginne  mine  auez  oSerh  wiles1. 

Leafdi  swete  leafdi  swetest  alre  leafdi  •  leafdi  leouest  leafdi  •  lufsumest 
leafdi  •  O  pulcherrima  mulierum  •  leafdi  seinte  Marie  deorewurSe  leafdi  • 
leafdi  cwen  of  heouene  •  leafdi  cwen  of  are  •  leafdi  do  me  are  •  leafdi 
meiden  moder  •  Meiden  godes  moder  •  ihesu  cristes  moder  •  Meiden  of 
milce  •  moder  of  grace  •  O  uirgo  m'rginum  Maria  mater  graci'e  mater 
mismcordie  •  tu  nos  ab  hoste  protege  &  hora  mortis  suscipe  •  per  tuum 
virgo  filium  per  patrem  paraclitum  assis  presens  ad  obi  turn  nostrumque 
muni  exitum  •  Gloria  tibi  domine  qui  nate  es  de  uirgine  j  cetera  •  Ant 
fallen  to  )?er  eorSe  •  7  cussen  hire  wiS  ]?is  leaste  uers  •  Hwa  se  is  hal  iheaf- 
det  •  7  tenne  auez  tene  7  tene  togederes  •  ]?e  teoheSe  eauer  jms  forS  •  Aue 
Maria  gratia  plena  dominus  tecum  •  benedicts,  tu  in  mulieribus  7  bene- 
dictus  fructus  uentris  tui  •  Spiritus  sanctus  superueniet  in  te  et  uirtws 
altissimi  obumbrabit  tibi  •  ideoque  &  quod  nascetwr  ex  te  sanctum 
vocabitwr  filiws  dei  •  Ecce  ancilla  dommi  fiat  im'Ai  secundum  uerbum 
tuum  •  7  cusse  J?e  eorSe  on  ende  •  oSer  degre  oSer  benc  oj>er  sumhwet 
herres  •  7  biginnen  •  leafdi  swete  leafdi  as  ear  ]>Q  forme  tene  •  of2  ]?e  fifti 
cneolinde  up  7  dun  •  J?e  oj?re  cneolinde  iriht  up  stille  •  buten  ed  te  aue 
marie  sum  semblant  wiS  J?e  oSer  cneo  alutel3  •  j?e  ]?ridde  tene  adun  up  o 
J?e  elbohen  riht  to  J?er  eorSe  •  J?e  feorSe,  )?e  elbohen  o  degre  oSer  o  bench  • 

1  This  sentence  is  omitted  in  the  French. 

2  '  of '  inserted  later.    It  is  evidently  required  by  the  sense,  and  the  stop  before  it  should 
follow  'ear'  (Fr.  les  primers  dis  de  cynqwante). 

3  fors  qe  al  aue  face  ascune  semblance  del  un  genoil  vn  petit    Fr. 


466  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

ant  eauer  to  J?e  aue  lute  wiS  }>e  heaued  •  J?e  fifte  te*ne  stondinde  •  ant 
eft  biginne  f>e  turn  as  in  j?e 


(2)  Between  ff.  14  and  15  two  leaves  are  lost  in  B,  which  contained 
from  p.  56,  last  line,  '  dure  Jnirh,'  to  p.  64,  1.  8,  '  sihSe  one,'  and  also  the 
beginning  of  a  passage  which  is  not  found  in  the  other  English  manu- 
scripts, but  occurs  in  the  French  text  at  the  same  point.  The  portion 
which  is  lost  in  B,  equivalent  perhaps  to  about  fifteen  lines  of  Morton's 
text,  may  be  partly  recovered  from  the  French  text,  .which  begins  thus 
(f.  11  v°): 

Ore  pur  ceo  toutes  les  ouertures  de  toutes  voz  fenestres  ausi  come  ci  deuant  a  la 
vewe  de  touz  homwes  vnt  este  closes  ausi  soient  ca  en  apres.  Et  si  plus  fermement 
poient,  plus  fermement  soient  closes.  Generale  reule  est.  Toutes  celes  qe  bien  les 
clusent,  dieu  bien  les  garde.  Et  toutes  celes  qe  ____ 

Here  begins  f.  12,  and  the  upper  part  of  the  first  column  of  it  is  not 
very  legible.  Though  a  good  deal  may  be  read,  no  very  satisfactory 
sense  can  be  made  out  till  near  the  place  where  the  English  begins  : 

7  od  eel  meismes  se  soillent  7  coroucent  les  oilz  dampnedieu  qui  regarde  la 
traison  dedenz  le  fol  queor.  Nient  solement  chescune  charnele  maniere,  mes 
ensement  chescune  fole  parole  est  leide  vilainie  etc. 

The  English  text,  after  the  break  in  the  manuscript,  is  as  follows  : 

f.  1  5.  traisun  inwiS  ]?e  gale  heorte  •  nawt  ane  euch  fleschlich  hond- 
lunge,  ah  jetten  euch  gal  word,  is  ladlich  vilainie  7  godes  gromes  wurSe 
)?ah  hit  ne  weoxe  forSre  bitweone  mon  7  ancre  •  Nu  J>urh  riht  godes 
wrake1  geaS  hit  forSre  7  for5re  7  bikimeS  ofte  7  ear  me  least  wene  in  to 
|?et  fule  sunne  •  we  hit  habbeS  weilawei  iherd  of  inohe  •  Ne  leue  na  mon 
ancre  j?e  let  in  monnes  ehe  to  schawin  hire  seoluen  •  Ouer  al  •)?  je  habbeS 
iwriten  in  ower  riwle  of  Binges  wiS  uten,  )?is  point  J?is  article  of  wel  to  beo 
bitunde,  ich  wulle  beo  best  ihalden  •  To  wummon  J?e  wilneS  hit,  openeS 
ow  o  godes  half  •  jef  ha  ne  spekeS  nawt  j?rof,  leoteS  swa  iwurSen  •  bute 
gef  £e  dreden  ty  heo  )?refter  beo  iscandlet2  •  Of  hire  ahne  suster  haueS 
sum  ibeon  ite?wptet  •  In  toward  ower  weoued3  ne  beode  ge  namon  for  te 
bihalden  •  ah  gef  his  deuociun  bit  hit  7  haueS  grant4,  draheS  ow  wel 
inward  •  7  te  ueil  adun  toward  ower  breoste  •  ant  sone  doS  ]?e  claS  ajein 
7  festniS  heteueste  •  gef  he  lokeS  toward  bed5  oSer  easkeS  hwer  ge  liggeS, 
ondswerieS  lihtliche  •  Sire  )?erof  wel  mei  duhen6  7  haldeS  ow  stille  •  jef 
bischp  kimeS  to  seon  ow,  hihiS  sone  towart  him  •  ah  sweteliche  bisecheS 
him  jef  he  bit  to  seon  ow,  f  je  moten  ]?er  onont  halden  ow  towart  him, 
as  je  habbeS  idon  7  doS  to  alle  o]?re  •  jef  he  wule  allegate  habben 
a  sihSe,  lokiS  ^  hit  beo  ful  scheort  •  J>e  ueil  anan  adun  •  7  draheS  ow 
bihinden  •  An  ancre  wearnde  eadmodliche  sein  martin  hire  sihSe  •  ant 
he  )?eruore  dude  hire  )?e  menske  -p  he  neauer  ne  dude  to  nan  oj?er  •  Ant 

1  Ore  dreit  par  la  veniance  dieu     Fr.  2  qe  apres  le  prengent  a  mal. 

3  vostre  altier.  4  eit  le  grant. 

5  Sil  regarde  vers  le  lit.  6  de  ceo  ne  te  estuit  chaler. 


G.    C.    MACAULAY 


467 


heruore  hire  word  is  apet  cume  pis  dei  iboren  in  hali  chirche1  •  for  as  we 
redeS  of  hire  •  Hwase  wule2  hire  windowes  witen  wel  wiS  pe  uuele,  ha 
mot  ec  wiS  pe  gode  •  Hwen  se  je  moten  to  eani  mon  eawiht  biteachen, 
pe  hond  ne  cume  nawt  ut  •  ne  ower  ut  ne  his  in  •  Ant  jef  hit  mot  cumen 
in,  ne  rine  nowper  oper  •  Heo  is  siker  sei<5  hali  writ,  pe  feor  from  grunen3 
draheS  hire  •  7  peo  pe  luueS  peril,  i  peril  ha  schal  fallen  •  Qui  caret 
laqueis4  securus  est  •  7  qui  amat  pmculum,  incidet  in  illud  •  pe  deofles 
grune  is  ofte  itild5  •  per  me  least  weneS  •  Nis  nan  'p  nis  dredful  •  -p  ha  nis 
ilecchet  •  for  godd  nule  wite  nan  -p  is  se  fol  hardi  •  pet  ha  ne  wit  wearliche 
wiS  him  hire  seoluen  •  pis  is  nu  of  pis  wit  in  oh  iseid  •  etc. 

(3)  After  p.  68,  1.  2,  B  (f.  16  v°)  has  the  following  passage,  which 
occurs  also  in  the  French,  f.  14 : 

f.  16  v°.  Vre  freres  prechours  7  ure  freres  meonurs  beoS  of  swuch 
ordre  "p  al  folc  mahte  wundrin  gef  ei  of  ham  wende  ehe  thwart  te  wude 
lehe6  •  for  pi  ed  euch  time  "p  eani  of  ham  jmrh  chearite  kimeS  ow  to 
learen  7  to  frourin  i  godd  •  jef  he  is  preost  seggeS  •  ear  pen  he  parti7, 
mea  culpa  •  Ich  schriue  me  to  godd  almihti  7  to  pe  •  'p  ich  as  ich  drede 
riht  repentant  neauer  nes  of  mine  greaste  sunnen  -p  ich  habbe  ischawet 
to  mine  schrift  feaderes  •  Ant  tah  min  entente  beo  to  beten  ham  her 
inne,  ich  hit  do  se  poureliche  •  7  sunegi  in  oSre  deihwamliche8  seoSSen 
ich  wes  nest9  ischriuen  •  7  -p  wes  penne10  7  of  pe  7  nempnin11  •  Ich  habbe 
pus  isunget  7  segge  o  hwucche  wise  as  hit  is  iwriten  ow  in  ower  schriftes 
boc  towart  te  ende  prof  •  7  aleast  seggeS  •  pis  7  muche  mare  •  Confiteor  • 
7  bide  him  underuo  pe  speciale  in  his  god12  •  7  ponke  him  of  his  inturn13 
7  bisech  him  aleast  greten  pe  7  te14  •  ant  "p  ha  bidden  for  pe.  WiS  uten 
witnesse  etc. 

(4)  After  p.  108,  1.  17.     This  is  found  in  the  Vernon  MS.  at  the 
end  of  the  Ancren  Riwle  text,  f.  392.     It  is  also  in  the  French,  f.  12  v°, 
immediately  following  the  passage  (2)  cited  above.     It  is  to  be  noted 
however  that  the  place  assigned  to  it  in  B  is  obviously  the  right  one. 

f.  28  v°.  O  seiS  sein  ierome15  •  Quomocfo  obscuratum  est  aurum  opti- 
mum jcetera  •  O  weilawei  weilawei  •  hu  is  gold  ipeostret  hu  is  feherest 
heow  biturnd  7  forweolewet  •  pe  apostle  spekeS  to  swucche  grimliche  as 
o  wreaSSe16  •  Quis  uos  fascinauit  7 'cetera  vt  cum  spiritu  ceperitis,  carne 
consunmamini  •  Me  hwuch  unseli  gast  haueS  swa  bimalscret  ow  •  "p  ge  i 
t  bigunnen  7  i  flesch  wulleS  endin  •  pe  gastelich  lif  bigunnen  i  pe 
ali  gast,  beoS  bicumene  al  fleschliche  •  al  fleschliche  iwurSen  lahinde 
lihte  ilatet  •  ane  hwile  lihte  iwordet  an  oSer  luSere  iwordet  estfule  •  7 

1  Et  est  pur  ceo  son  renoun  en  seinte  eglise  desques  al  iour  dui. 

2  Kar  sicome  nous  lisoms  de  lui,  qi  voudra. 

3  larcons  for  lacons  Fr.  4  cauet  laqueos  Fr.  5  telde  Fr. 

6  tornast  loil  vers  le  cour  del  boes.  7  dites  auant  ceo  qil  partient  •  mea  culpa. 

8  O.E.  '  dseghwamlice '  (  =  daily).     The  French  here  has  '  mortelement.' 

9  procheinement.  10  ce  fust  dunqe.  n  a  celui,  7  le  nomer. 

12  vous  receiure  especial  en  dieu.  ls  venue.  14  saluer  celui  7  celui. 

15  li  prophete  leremie.  16  Ac  nout  withouten  serwe  added  in  V. 


468  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

sarcurne  •  7  grucchildes1  •  meanildes  •  ant  get  -p  wurse  is  •  cursildes2  7 
chidildes  bittre  7  attrie  wiS  heorte  to  bollen  •  Bihofde  nawt  f  swuch 
were  leafdi  of  castel  •  hoker  7  hofles  Jnng  is  -p  a  smiret  ancre  7  ancre 
biburiet.  for  hwet  is  ancre  hus  bute  hire  buririesse,  7  heo  schal  beo 
greattre  ibollen  •  leafdiluker  leoten  of  .)?en  a  leafdi  of  hames3  •  gef  ha 
makeS  hire  wra5  ageines  gult  of  sunne  •  gef  ha  sette<5  hire  wordes4  swa 
efne  "p  ha  ne  Jmnche  ouersturet5  •  ne  nawt  ilead  ouer  skile,  ah  inward  - 
liche6  7  soSliche  wiS  uten  hihSe  7  hehschipe  in  a  softe  steuene  •  filia 
fatua  in  deminoratione  erit  •  J?is  is  Salamones  sahe  •  -p  hit  limpe  to  ei  of 
ow,  godd  ne  leue  neauer  •  Gang  dohter  iwurS  as  mone  i  wonunge  •  ]?riueS 
as  ]?e  cangun  se  lengre  se  wurse  •  ge  as  ge  wulleS  waxen  7  nawt  wenden 
hindward,  sikerliche  ge  moten  row  en7  agein  stream  wiS  muchel  swine 
breoken  forS,  7  gasteliche  earmSes  •  stealewurSliche  sturien8  •  7  swa  ge 
moten  alle  •  for  alle  we  beoS  i  pis  stream  •  i  J?e  worldes  wode  weater  pe 
bereS  adun  monie  •  Sone  se  we  eauer  wergiS  7  resteS  us  i  slawSe,  lire  bat 
geat5  hindward  •  7  we  beoS  pe  cang  dohter  pe  gaS  woniende  •  J?e  wlecche 
}>e  godd  speoweS  as  is  iwriten  her  efter  •  ]?e  bigunnen  i  gast  •  7  i  flesch 
endiS  •  Nai  nai  ah  as  iob  seiS  •  )?e  delueS  efter  golthord  •  eauer  se  he  mare 
nahheS  hit,  se  his  heortes  gleadschipe  makeS  him  mare  lusti  •  7  mare 
fersch  to  diggin  •  7  deluen  deoppre  7  deoppre,  aSet  he  hit  finde  •  Ower 
heorte  nis  nawt  on  eorSe  •  for  j? i  ne  J?urue  ge  nawt  delueri  dunewardes  • 
ah  heouen  uppart  ]?e  heorte  •  for  "p  is  ]?e  uprowunge  agein  )?is  worldes 
stream,  driuen  hire  ageinward  to  deluen  j?e  golthord  -p  up  is  in  heouene  • 
ant  hwet  is  ^  deluunge  ?  geornful  sechinde  J>oht  •  hwer  hit  beo  hwuch 
hit  beo  •  hu  me  hit  mahe  ifinden  •  ]?is  is  )?e  deluunge  •  beon  bisiliche  7 
geornfulliche  eauer  her  abuten  •  wiS  anewil  girnunge  •  wi5  heate  of  hungri 
heorte,  waden  up  of  un]?eawes9  •  creopen  ut  of  fiesch  •  breoken  up  ouer 
hire  •  astihen  up  on  ow  seolf  wi<5  heh  }?oht  towarS  heouene  •  swa  muchel 
)?e  neodeluker  ^  ower  feble  tendre  flesch  heardes  ne  mei  J>olien  •  Nu 
]?enne  )?er  agein  geoueS  godd  ower  heorte  •  i  softnesse  •  i  swetnesse  •  in 
alles  cunnes  meoknesse  •  7  softest  eadmodnesse  •  nawt  nu  granin  7 
peonsin  •  ]?refter  hehi  steuene  •  wreaSen  hire  unweneliche  •  sinecin  hire 
wordes10  •  wrenchen  aweiward  •  wenden  ]?e  schuldre  •  keaste  j?e  heaued 
swa  •p  godd  heateS  hire  7  mon  hire  scarneS  •  Nai  nai  ripe  wordes  •  lates 
ripe11  7  werkes  bilimpeS  to  ancre  •  Hwen  wordes  beoS  eadmodliche  7 
soSfestliche  iseide,  nawt  fulitoheliche  ne  babanliche,  f>enne  habbeS  ha 
burSerne  to  beo  riht  understonden12  •  Nu  is  j?is  al  iseid  "p  ge  efter  ihesu 
crist  }>e  me  gurde  ine  muS  7  galle  gef  to  drinken  •  wi5  muSes  sunne  witen 
ow  •  7  j?olie3  sum  derf  i  -p  wit  as  he  wes  J?rin  ideruet  •  In  his  eare  etc. 

I  estfule — grucchildes]  heij  hertet-  scornynge-  Grucchinge  V.  2  cursinges  V. 

3  vne  grande  dame  de  terres  Fr. 

4  ele  deit  asseer  ses  paroles  (without  'if'). 

5  frowelement  qele  napierge  trop  moeuee  Fr. 

6  parfundement.  7  naggier. 

8  les  braz  espiritals  iugerousement  mouer. 

9  gwaer  sus  hors  de  male  tecches. 

10  smyten  hire  wordes  V  engressement  et  angoisousement  parler  Fr. 

II  angri  wordes  angri  leitis  V. 

12  ount  eles  chargee  de  estre  bien  entendue  Fr. 


G.    C.    MACAULAY 


469 


(5)  After  '  note,'  p.  198,  1.  30.    This  passage  is  found  in  V,  and  with 
some  differences  in  P.     Also  in  the  Latin  version  of  the  Magdalen 
College  MS. 

f.  52  v°.  pe  teoheSe  is  Contentio  •  -p  is  strif  to  ouercumen  p  te  oj?er 
funche  underneoSen  awarpen  7  crauant  •  ant  heo  meistre  of  )?e  mot  •  7 
crenge1  ase  champiun  )?e  haueS  bijete  J?e  place.  I  ]?is  unbeaw  is  upbrud  • 
7  edwitunge  of  al  •p  nuel  "p  ha  mei  bi  j?e  oSer  of  j?enchen  •  ant  eauer  se 
hit  biteS  bittrure,  se  hire  likeS  betere  •  )?ah  hit  were  of  j?ing  J?e  wes  biuore 
gare  arnendet  •  Her  imong  beoS  oSerh  wiles  nawt  ane  bittre  wordes,  ah 
beo<5  fule  stinkinde  scheomelese  7  scheritfule  •  sum  chearre  mid'  great 
sware  •  monie  7  prude  wordes  wiS  warinesses  7  bileasunges  •  Herto 
falleS  euenunge  of  ham  seolf  •  of  hare  cun  •  of  sahe  oSer  of  dede  •  ]?is  is 
among  nunnen  •  7  gaS  wits  swuch  muS  seoSSen  ear  schrift  ham  habbe 
iweschen  to  herie  godd  wi(5  loftsong  •  oSer  biddeS  him  pn'uee  bonen  • 
Me  Binges  amansede  nuten  ha  ^  hare  song  ant  hare^bonen  to  godd 
stinkeS  fulre  to  him  7  to  alle  his  halhen,  )?en  ei  rotet  dogge  •  pe  eal- 
leofte  hwelp  is  ifed  wiS  supe?~sticiuns2  •  wiS  semblanz  7  wiS  sines  •  as 
beoren  on  heh  -p  heaued  •  crenge  wiS  swire3  •  lokin  o  siden  •  bihalden  on 
hokere  •  winche4  mid  ehe  •  binde  seode  mid  te  muS5  •  wiS  hond  oSer  wiS 
heaued  makie  scuter  signe6  •  warpe  schonke  ouer  schench  •  sitten  oSer 
gan  stif  as  ha  istaket7  were  •  luue  lokin  o  mon  •  speoken  as  an  innocent 
7  wlispin  for  J?en  anes8  •  Her  to  falleS  of  ueil  of  heaued  claS  •  of  euch 
oSer  cla<5  •  to  ouegart  acemunge9  oSer  in  heowunge  •  oSer  ipinchunge  • 
gurdles  ant  gurdunge  o  dameiseles  wise  •  scleaterunge  mid  smirles  fule 
fluSrunges10  •  heo  win  her  •  litien  leor  •  pinchen  bruhen  oSer  bencin  ham 
uppart  wi5  wete  fingres11  •  Monie  o]?re  etc. 

(6)  After  '  Schornunge,'  p.   200,  1.  23.     This  is   contained   in  V, 
except  the  last  sentence,  and  is  also  in  the  Latin  version. 

f.  53  v°.  pe  eahtuSe  is  suspitio  ty  is  misortrowunge  bi  mon  oSer  bi 
wummon  wiS  uten  witer  tacne  •  J?enchen  •  )?is  semblant  ha  makeS  •  ]?is  ha 
seiS  oSer  de8  me  forte  grennen12  •  hokerin  oSer  hearmin  •  7  ^  hwen  J?e  o]?er 
neauer  )?ideward  ne  J?encheS  •  Herto  falleS  fals  dom  ty  godd  forbeot 
swiSe  •  as  }>enchen  oSer  seggen  •  je  ne  Iuue6  ha  me  nawt  •  Herof 
ha  wreide  me  •  lo  nu  ha  speokeS  of  me  ]?e  twa  •  ]?e  J?reo  •  oSer  j?e  ma 

1  crenche  V  criej>  P. 

2  wrS  super sticiuns  om  V         P  has  semblaunce  is  ano)?gr  whelp  •  \>at  is  wi>  signes  • 
bereande  heise  etc.      (Undecimzts  catulws   leonis   superbie   est-    natus   superbie   &   iste 
nutritur  gestibus  et  sigwis  sicut  capud  extollere  etc.  Lat.) 

3  collum  curuare     Lat.  4  wynken  V     wynk  P. 

5  maken  mouwe  -with  \>e  mouj^e  V    bende  wi}>  ]?e  mouj>  P  (ore  cachinnare    Lat.) 

6  maken  mony  a  scorn  V     Scornen  P     (derisorium  signum  facere     Lat.) 

7  I  •  steken  V     stichen  P. 

8  innocenter  loqui  aut  blese  exproposito     Lat. 

9  ouer  gart  semynge  V    ouer  girt  as  meninge  P. 

10  flitterynge  P. 

11  Browes   whinrynge   ofyur   bensen   ham   upward  with   wete   strykynges   V     browes 
whinering  oi\>er  benchen  hem  vp  ward  wij>  wete  strikynges  P     superciliorum  decapillacione 
uel  eorwm  execcione  cum  liuida  striccione  Lat. 

12  greuen  V  (grenen?). 


470  The  ' Ancren  Riwle* 

pe  sitteS  togederes  •  swuch  ha  is  7  swuch  7  for  uuel  ha  hit  dude  •  I 
jmlli  poht  we  beoS  ofte  bichearret  •  for  offce  is  god  -p  punches  uuel  •  7 
for  pi  beoS  al  dei  monnes  domes  false  •  Herto  limpeS  alswa  luftere  neowe 
fundles  7  leasunges  ladliche  purh  ni'S  7  purh  onde  •  pe  niheSe  cundel  is 
sawunge  of  unsibsumnesse  of  wreaSSe  7  of  descorde  •  peo  pe  saweS  pis 
deofles  sed,  ha  is  of  godd  amanset  •  pe  teoheSe  is  luSer  stilSe  •  pe  deofles 
silence  •  "p  te  an  nule  for  onde  speoken  o  pe  oper  •  ant  pis  spece  is  al  swa 
cundel  of  wrea$5e  •  for  hare  teames  beoS  imengt  ofte  togederes1  •  Hwer 
as  ei  of  peos  wes  •  per  wes  pe  cundel  etc. 

(7)  After  '  eihte,'  p.  202,  1.  2.     This  is  found  also  in  PV  and  in  the 
Latin. 

f.  54.  pe  seoueSe  hwelp  is  •  don  for  wreaSSe  mis  •  oSer  leauen  wel  to 
don  •  forgan  mete  oSer  drunch  •  wreoken  hire  wiS  teares  jef  ha  elles  ne 
mei  •  7  wiS  weariuwges  hire  heaued  spillen  o  grome2  •  oSer  on'oper  wise 
hearmin  hire  i  sawle  7  i  bodi  baSe  •  peos  is  homicide  7  morSre  of  hire 
seoluen  •  pe  Beore  etc. 

(8)  After  p.  254,  1.  29  : 

f.  69.  Pax  uobiscum  •  pis  wes  godes  gretunge  to  his  deore  deciples  • 
GriS  beo  bimong  ow  •  ge  beoS  pe  ancren  of  englond  swa  feole  togederes  • 
twenti  nuSe  oSer  ma  •  godd  i  god  ow  mutli3,  -p  meast  griS  is  among  • 
Meast  annesse  7  anrednesse  •  7  sometreadnesse  of  anred  lif  efter  a  riwle  • 
Swa  'p  alle  teoS  an  •  alle  iturnt  anesweis,  7  nan  frommard  oSer  •  efter  -p 
word  is  •  for  )?i  je  gaS  wel  forS  7  spedeS  in  ower  wei,  for  euch  is  wiSward 
o]?er  in  an  manere  of  liflade  •  as  J>ah  ge  weren  an  cuuent  of  lundene  7 
of  oxnefort  •  of  schreobsburi,  oSer  of  Chester  •  J>ear  as  alle  beoS  an  wiS 
an  imeane  manere  •  ant  wiS  uten  singularite  •  j?  is  anful  frommardschipe  • 
lah  ]?ing  i  religiun  •  for  hit  to  warpeS  annesse  7  manere  imeane,  •p  ah  to 
beon  in  ordre  •  J>is  nu  |?enne  •p  je  beoS  alle  as  an  cuuent  •  is  ower  hehe 
fame  •  )?is  is  godd  icweme  •  )?is  is  nunan  wide  cuS  •  swa  )?et  ower  cuuent 
biginneS  to  spreaden  toward  englondes  ende  •  ge  beoS  as  )?e  moder  hus 
•p  heo  beoS  of  istreonet  •  je  beoS  ase  wealle  •  jef  fe  wealle  woreS,  )?e 
strunden  woriS  alswa  •  A  weila  gef  je  woriS  ne  bide  ich  hit  neauer  •  gef 
ei  is  imong  ow  )?e  geaS  i  singularite  •  7  ne  folheS  nawt  j?e  cuuent  •  ah 
went  ut  of  |?e  floe  ^  is  as  in  a  cloistre  -p  ihesu  is  heh  priur  ouer  •  went 
ut  as  a  teowi  schep  7  meapeS  hire  ane  in  to  breres  teilac  •  in  to  wulues 
muS  toward  te  prote  of  helle  •  jef  ei  swuch  is  imong  ow,  godd  turne  hire 
in  to  floe  •  wende  hire  in  to  cuuent  •  7  leue  ow  )?e  beoS  ]?rin  •  swa  halden 
ow  prin  •  -p  godd  J?e  hehe  priur  neome  ow  on  ende  J?eonne  up,  in  to  )?e 
cloistre  of  heouene.  Hwil  ge  haldeS  ow  in  an,  offearen  etc. 

(9)  After  '  tunge,'  p.  256,  1.  7  : 

f.  69  v°.  7  segge  anan  rihtes  •  Vre  meistre  haueS  iwriten  us  as  in 
heast  to  halden  •  -pe  we  tellen  him  al  -p  euch  of  oj?er  hereS  •  ant  for  J>i 

1  and  \>i$  spece — togederes  om  V. 

2  to  teren  her  here  for  tene  P. 

3  The  word  might  perhaps  be  '  mucli,'  but  we  have  « mutle'S '  (apparently)  with  v.l. 
'mudle«,'p.  296. 


C.    MACAULAY  471 

loke  pe  "p  tu  na  ping  ne  telle  me,  "p  ich  ne  muhe  him  tellen  •  pe  mei  don 
pe  amendement  •  7  con  swaliches  don  hit  •  -p  ich  7  tu  baSe  gef  we  beo5  i 
pe  soS,  schule  beon  unblamet.  Euch  noSele  warni  etc. 

(10)  After  p.  262,  1.  4  : 

f.  71.  Of  na  mon  ne  of  na  wummon  ne  schule  ge  makie  na  man  •  ne 
pleainin  ow  of  na  wone  •  bute  to  sum  treowe  freond  "p  hit  mei  amendin  • 
7  godin  ham  oSer  ow  •  ant  -p  beo  prmeliche  iseid  as  under  seel  of  schrift 
•p  ge  ne  beon  iblamet  •  gef  ge  of  ei  ping  habbeS  wone,  7  sum  freond 
georne  freini  ow  gef  ge  ei  wone  habbeS  •  gef  ge  hopieS  god  of  him, 
ondswerieS  o  pis  wise  •  lauerd  godd  forgelde  pe  •  Ich  drede  mare  ich  habbe 
pen  ich  were  wurSe  •  ant  leasse  wone  ich  polie  pen  me  neod  were  •  gef  he 
easke<5  geornluker  •  ponkiS  him  georne  •  7  seggeS  •  Ich  ne  dear  nawt  lihen 
o  me  seoluen,  wone  ich  habbe  ase  riht  is  •  Hwuch  ancre  kimeS  in  to 
ancre  hus  to  habben  hire  eise  •  ah  nu  pu  wult  hit  alles  witen,  vre  lauerd 
te  forgelde  •  pis  is  nu  an  ping  -p  ich  hefde  neode  to  •  7  pus"  bid  ure  riwle 
•p  je  schawin  to  gode  freond  as  opre  godes  poure  doS  hare  meoseise  wiS 
milde  eadmodnesse  •  ne  nawt  ne  schule  we  forsaken  pe  grace  of  godes 
sonde,  ah  ponkin  him  georne  leste  he  wreaSe  him  wiS  us  7  wiSdrahe  his 
large  hond  7  prefter  wiS  to  muche  wone  abeate  ure  prude  •  ant  nis  hit 
muchel  hones  hwen  godd  beot  his  hond  forS  puttinde  hire  agein 
segge  •  Ne  kepe  ich  hit  nawt  haue  pe  seolf  •  Ich  wulle  fondin  gef  ich 
mei  libben  her  buten  •  purh  pis  ich  habbe  iherd  'p  of  swuch  -p  nom 
uuel  ende  • 

Ajein  leccherie  etc. 

(11)  Morton,  p.  416,  11. 12 — 22.    This  passage  is  given  in  the  follow- 
ing expanded  form  in  B,  and  the  original  text  of  C  has  been  altered 
in  accordance  with  this. 

f.  112v°.  Wummen  •  7  children  •  7  nomeliche  ancre  meidnes  pe 
cumeS  iswenchet  for  ow  •  pah  ge  spearien  hit  on  ow,  oSer  borhin  oSer 
bidden  hit,  makieS  ham  to  eotene  wiS  chearitable  chere  •  7  leaSieS  to 
herbarhin  •  Na  mon  ne  eote  biuoren  ow  bute  bi  ower  meistres  leaue  • 
general  oSer  special  •  as  of  freres  preach urs  •  7  meonurs  •  special,  of  alle 
opre  •  Ne  leaSie  ge  nane  opre  to  eoten  ne  to  drinken,  bute  alswa  purh  his 
leaue  •  liht  is  me  seiS  leaue  •  Nawiht  ne  §irne  ich  "p  me  for  swucche  boden 
telle  ow  hende  ancren  •  Ihwear  pah  ant  eauer  gemeS  ow  "p  nan  from  ow 
purh  ower  untuhtle  ne  parti  wiS  scandle  • 

Ed  gode  men  neomeS  al  -p  ow  to  nedeS  •  Ah  -p  lokiS  ow  wel  •  -p  ge  ne 
kecchen  pe  nome  of  gederinde  ancren  •  Of  mon  -p  ge  misleueS  purh  his 
fol  semblant  oSer  bi  his  wake  wordes,  nowSer  ne  neome  ge  ne  leasse  ne 
mare  •  neode  schal  driuen  ow  forte  bidden  ei  ping  •  pah  eadmodliche 
schawiS  to  gode  men  7  wummen,  ower  meoseise  •  ge  mine  leoue  sustren 
bute  gef  neod  ow  driue  7  ower  meistre  hit  reade  •  ne  schulen  habbe  etc. 

(12)  After  '  leaue,'  p.  420,  1.  1: 

f.  113  v°.  nohwer  ne  binetli  hire  •  ne  ne  beate  biuoren  •  ne  na 
keoruunge  ne  keorue  •  ne  ne  neome  ed  eanes  to  luSere  disceplines  • 


472  The  'Ancren  Riwle* 

temptatiuns  forte  acwenchen  •  ne  for  na  bote  agein  cundeliche  secnesses  • 
nan  uncundelich  lechecreft  ne  leue  ge  ne  ne  fondin  •  wiS  uten  ure 
meistres  read,  leste  ow  stonde  wurse  •  Ower  schon  i  winter  beon  meoke  • 
greate  7  warme  -.etc. 

(13)  After  '  ueiles,'  p.  420,  1.  7.    This  passage  is  incompletely  given 
in  V,  partly  owing  to  the  loss  of  the  preceding  leaf,  and  partly  to 
omission  at  the  end.    It  is  also  added  in  the  margin  of  C,  with  omission 
of  the  last  two  lines,  '  Tojeines — oSerh  wiles.' 

f.  113  v°.  Ancren  summe  sungiS-in  hare  wimplunge,  na  leasse  ]?en 
leafcjis  •  Ah  )?ah  seiS  sum  -p  hit  limpeS  to  euch  wummon  cundeliche  forte 
werien1  wimpel  •  Nai  •  wimpel  ne  heaued  claS2  nowSer  ne  nempneS  hali 
writ,  ah  wriheles  ane  •  Ad  corinthios  •  Mulier  uelet  caput  suum  •  wummon 
seiS  ]?e  apostle  •  schal  wreon  hire  heaued  •  wrihen  he  seiS  nawt  wimplin  • 
wrihen  ha  schal  hire  scheome  •  as  cue  sunfule  dohter  •  i  mungunge  of  J?e 
sunne  f  schende  us  on  earst  alle  •  ant  nawt  drahe  )?e  wriheles  to  tiffunge 
7  to  prude  •  Eft  wule  ]?e  apostle  ty  wummon  wreo  i  chirche  hire  neb 
getten  •  leste  uuel  }>oht  arise  ]?urh  hire  onsihSe  •  Et  hoc  est  propter 
angelos  •  Hwi  benne  ]?u  chirch  ancre  iwimplet  openest  ]?i  neb  to  wep- 
monnes  ehe,  togeines  ]?e  sist  men3,  spekeS  J?e  apostle  •  gef  }m  j?e  ne 
hudest  •  ah  gef  "p  ei  ]?ing  wrihe<5  )?i  neb  from  monnes  ehe  •  beo  hit  wah 
beo  hit  claS  •  i  wel  itund  windowe  •  wel  mei  duhen  ancre  of  otter  wim- 
plunge •  Tojeines  J?e  Ipe  ]>us-  ne  dest,  spekeS  )?e  apostle  nawt  tojeines 
o)?re  •  ty  hare  ahne  wah  wriheS  wi5  euch  monnes  sihSe  •  )?er  awakeniS  ofte 
wake  )?ohtes  of  •  7  werkes  oSerh wiles4.  Hwa  se  wule  beon  isehen  etc. 

(14)  After  '  leaue/  p.  420,  1.  16  : 

f.  114.  namare  j?en  neomen  •  *p  je  ne  seggen  him  fore,  as  of  oSre 
Binges  •  kun  o<5er  cuSSe  •  hu  ofte  je  underuengen  •  hu  longe  je  edheolden  • 
tendre  of  cun  ne  limpeS  nawt  ancre  beonne  •  A  mon  wes  of  religiun  •  7 
com  to  him  efter  help  his  fleschliche  broSer  •  7  he  tahte  him  to  his  J?ridde 
breSer  •  j?e  wes  dead  biburiet  •  ]?e  ondswerede  wundrinde  •  Nai  qwo-S  he 
nis  he  dead  ?  ant  ich  quati  ]?e  hali  mon  am  dead  gasteliche  •  Na  flesch- 
lich  freond  ne  easki  me  fleschlich  froure  •  Amices  7  parures  •  worldliche 
leafdis  mahen  inoh  wurchen  •  ant  gef  je  ham  makieS,  ne  makie  ^e 
)?rof  na  mustreisun  •  veine  gloire  attreS  alle  gode  f>eawes  •  7  alle  gode 
werkes  •  Criblin  ne  schal  nan  of  ow  for  luue  ne  for  hure  •  Taueles  ne 
forbeode  ich  nawt  •  jef  sum  riueS  surpliz  oSer  measse  kemese,  oj?re 
rinunges  ne  riue  ha  nawt5  nomeliche  ouer  egede,  bute  for  muche  neode  • 
HelpeS  etc. 

(15)  After  '  wulleS,'  p.  424,  1.  2 ;  added  in  C  by  later  hand  from 
'  VnderstondeS ' : 

1  V  begins  here  '  were  Wympel  •  Nay. ' 

2  ne  hef  C,  the  rest  being  cut  off. 

3  teseines  ]>&•  J?e  isist  men  C. 

4  V  omits  '  Hwi  J?enne — o^erh wiles. ' 

5  Perhaps  it  should  be  rather  '  o>re  riuimges  ne  rine  ha  nawt.' 


C.    MACAULAY 


473 


£115.  7  ower  o]?re  jnnges  •  Nes  neauer  fulSe  godd  leof  •  J>ah  pouerte 
7  unorneschipe  beon  him  licwurSe  •  VnderstondeS  eauer  of  alle  |?eose 
Binges  •  -p  nan  nis  heast  ne  forbod  -p  beoS  of  )?e  uttre  riwle  •  ]?et  is  lute 
strengSe  of  •  for  hwon  -p  te  inre  beo  wel  iwist  as  ich  seide  i  )>e  frumSe  • 
)?eos  rnei  beon  ichanget  hwer  se  eani  neod  oSer  eani  skile  hit  easkeS  • 
efber  ^  ha  to  best  mei  j?e  leafdi  riwle  seruin  as  hire  eadmode  jmften  •  ah 
sikerliche  wiS  uten  hire  j?e  leafdi  feareS  to  wundre. 

Ancre  J?e  naueS  etc. 

(16)     After  p.  430,  1.  10  : 

f.  117.  Hwen  ower  sustres  meidnes  cumeS  to  ow  to  froure,  cumeS  to 
ham  to  J?e  ]?url,  earunder  7  ouerunder  •  eanes  oSer  twien  •  7  gaS  ajein  sone, 
to  ower  note  gastelich  •  ne  biuore  Complie  ne  sitte  je  nawt  for  ham  ouer 
riht  time  •  swa  "p  hare  cume  beo  na  lure  of  ower  religiun,  ah  gastelich 
bijete  •  gef  ]?er  is  eani  word  iseid  "p  mahte  hurten  heo^te,  ne  beo  hit 
nawt  iboren  ut,  ne  ibroht  to  o]?er  ancre,  "p  is  eS  hurte  •  To  him  hit  schal 
beon  iseid,  fe  lokeS  ham  alle  •  Twa  niht  is  inoh  -p  ei  beo  edhalden  •  ant 
•p  beo  ful  seldene  •  ne  for  heoin  ne  breoke  silence  ed  te  mete,  ne  for 
blodletunge  •  bute  jef  sum  muche  god  oSer  neod  hit  makie  •  pe  ancre 
ne  hire  meiden  ne  plohien  nane l  worldliche  gomenes  ed  te  (?urle  •  ne  ne 
ticki  togederes  •  for  ase  seiS  seint  Beornard  •  vnwurSe  is  to  euch  gastelich 
mon  •  7  nomeliche  to  ancre,  euch  swuch  fleschlich  froure  •  7  hit  binimeS 
gastelich  'p  is  wiS  ute  met  utnume  murhSe  •  7  "p  is  uuel  change  as  is 
iseid  pruppe. 

Of  |?is  boc  redeS  etc. 

A  few  words  may  be  added  on  the  subject  referred  to  on  pp.  77,  78, 
namely  the  supposed  connexion  of  the  Ancren  Riwle  with  Tarente.  It 
has  already  been  pointed  out  that  the  reference  to  Tarente  occurs  only 
in  the  Latin  version  and  is  combined  with  the  ascription  of  authorship 
to  Simon  of  Ghent,  who  cannot  possibly  have  been  the  author  of  the 
English  text.  I  wish  here  to  note  in  addition  that  the  religious  house 
at  Tarente  cannot  possibly  be  identified  with  the  small  community  of 
three  anchoresses  for  whom  the  Ancren  Riwle  was  composed.  The 
convent  in  question  was  of  the  Cistercian  order  and  presided  over  by 
an  Abbess.  There  is  extant  a  Latin  letter  written  in  the  thirteenth 
century  by  John  Godard,  formerly  Abbot  of  Newenham,  '  ad  sororem 
suam  Margaretam  abbatissam  de  Tarente2,'  and  the  warnings  against 
the  temptations  of  gluttony  which  this  letter  contains  indicate  an 
entirely  different  style  of  living  from  that  which  was  followed  by  our 
anchoresses,  who  have  chiefly  to  be  warned  against  overmuch  severity 

1  '  nane  '  added  later. 

2  MS.  Camb.  Univ.     Mm.  vi,  4,  ff.  237—256.     My  attention  was  called  to  this  letter 
by  Mr  G.  G.  Coulton.     Godard  ceased  to  be  Abbot  in  the  year  1248  (Dugdale,  Monasticon, 


1846,  vol.  v,  p.  690). 
M.  L.  R.  IX. 


31 


474  The  'Ancren  Riwle' 

and  a  too  strict  abstinence.  It  may  be  observed  also  that  the  entry 
with  reference  to  the  French  Ancren  Riwle  (MS.  Cotton,  Vitell.  F  vn) 
in  Smith's  catalogue  of  the  Cotton  MSS.  (1698)  cannot  be  taken  as 
independent  evidence  of  the  connexion  of  this  with  Simon  of  Ghent, 
for  the  ascription  there  is  plainly  taken  from  the  yet  earlier  Cotton 
catalogue  in  Brit.  Mus.  Add.  MS.  36,682  B.  f.  179,  where  a  reference  is 
definitely  made  to  the  Magdalen  College  manuscript : 

Regula  inclusarum  Gallice.  Liber  iste  in  Bibl :  Collegii  Magdai'.  Oxoniae. 
Nomen  prefert  Simonis  de  Gandavo  Episcopi  Sarum  de  vita  solitaria  sororibus  suis 
Anachoritis  apud  Tarente1. 

It  seems  probable,  moreover,  that  in  the  heading  of  the  Latin  version 
which  is  here  referred  to,  the  word  '  Anachoritis '  was  used  in  a  loose 
sense,  and  that  Simon  of  Ghent's  sisters  were  in  fact  nuns  in  the 
convent  of  Tarente,  for  whom  their  brother  conceived  that  a  modified 
version  of  the  Ancren  Riwle  might  be  an  edifying  manual.' 

I  desire  to  conclude  this  series  of  articles  with  an  expression  of 
obligation  both  to  Mr  C.  W.  Moule,  the  late  Librarian  of  Corpus  Christi 
College,  and  to  Mr  G.  G.  Butler,  the  present  Librarian,  who  have  very 
kindly  given  me  special  facilities  for  using  the  manuscript  of  the  Ancren 
Riwle  with  which  I  have  been  chiefly  concerned. 

G.  C.  MACAULAY. 

CAMBRIDGE. 

1  I  am  indebted  for  this  information  to  Mr  J.  P.  Grilson,  Keeper  of  the  Manuscripts. 


GATIEN   DE   COURTILZ,   SIEUB  DU  VERGER1, 
A   PRECURSOR   OF   LESAGE. 

I. 

EVERYBODY  has  read  Les  Trois  Mousquetaires,  and  knows  that  Dumas 
acknowledges  his  obligation  to  an  old  volume  in  the  Bibliotheque  Royale. 
In  fact  d'Artagnan2  and  his  three  friends  appear  in  an  anonymous  work 
first  published  in  1700.  This  book,  though  purporting  to  be  a  simple 
rearrangement  of  the  authentic  Memoires  of  Captain  d'Artagnan,  was 
soon  recognized  as  the  work  of  a  prolific  scribe,  known  as  Gatien  de 
Courtilz  de  Sandras  (1644  ? — 1712).  Contemporary  notices  of  Courtilz 
are  due  to  the  desire  of  precise  historians  to  refute  the  popular  idea 
that  his  supposed  Memoires  were  authentic  history3.  Even  in  our  own 
day  some  writers  accept  too  credulously  the  anecdotes  of  this  clever 
mystifier.  A  hungry  hack,  his  sole  aim  was  to  please.  Among  the 
genres  which  were  already  in  vogue,  he  chose  those  best  suited  to  his 
temperament,  and  stamped  them  with  the  seal  of  his  personality.  He 
invariably  pretended  to  disclose  hidden  historical  fact,  and  reveal  the 
cryptic  motives  which  actuated  prominent  personages.  His  real  object 
was  to  lure  the  public  with  scandal,  and  in  this  he  succeeded  amazingly. 
He  ignored  the  critics  who  exposed  his  impudent  mendacity ;  never 
signing  his  work  with  his  own  name,  he  thus  avoided  condemnation 
at  sight ;  he  ascribed  his  writings,  now  to  a  veteran  who  had  witnessed 
the  incidents  described,  now  to  a  courtier  long  familiar  with  the  manners 

1  The  author  wishes  to  express  his  gratitude  to  his  colleagues,  Professors  Casis  and 
Villa vaso,   and   to   Professors   Trent   and   Woodbridge,  who   have  kindly  criticised   his 
manuscript.     He  is  under  special  obligation  to  Professor  Fitzmaurice-Kelly  for  invaluable 
editorial  criticism.     A  complete  treatment  of  the  writings  of  Courtilz  with  his  biography 
is  to  appear  shortly. 

2  Strictly  speaking  he  should  be  called  M.  d'Artagnan  or  Artagnan,  but  it  seems  best  to 
preserve  the  name  under  which  he  is  famous. 

3  See  Bayle,  Diet.,  esp.  art.  Louis  XIII;  Nouv.de  laRep.desLettres,  passim;  Corresp., 
passim;  Rep.  a  un  Prov.,  Chap,  xxvii;    Sallengre,  Mem.  de  la  Lit. ;   Lelong,  Diet.  Hist.; 
Nice"ron,  Mem.;   Lengiet,  Bibl.  des  Romans;  De  Brequigny,  Jour,  des  Savants,  Oct.  1760. 
Jal,  Diet.  Grit.,  and  Kavaisson,  Arch,  de  la  Bastille,  cite  interesting  documents.     See  also 
Ch.  Samaran,  D'Artagnan,  Paris,  1912. 

31—2 


476  Gatien  de  Gourtilz 

of  the  palace.    Finally,  his  genuine  gift  of  narrative  and  vigorous  style 
enabled  him  to  hold  his  readers. 

Courtilz  took  such  precautions  to  conceal  his  personality  that  bio- 
graphical details  are  scarce.  Uncertain  as  to  his  real  name,  contem- 
poraries knew  next  to  nothing  of  his  life.  Yet,  despite  insufficient  data, 
some  idea  of  the  man's  character  may  be  formed.  Jack-of-all-trades,  he 
put  his  hand  to  every  kind  of  work,  however  dubious  ;  he  had  shrewdly 
observed  all  manner  of  adventurers  ;  as  a  soldier  he  had  amassed  a 
treasure  of  military  anecdotes,  and  had  doubtless  discussed  at  length 
with  his  comrades  the  conduct  of  his  chiefs  and  the  vicissitudes  of 
politics  A  Paris  pamphleteer,  he  knew  all  such  gossip  about  prominent 
contemporaries  as  was  current  in  antechambers  and  guardrooms.  Finally, 
while  imprisoned  at  the  Bastille,  he  must  have  spent  hours  comparing 
notes  with  his  fellows.  In  studying  his  work,  there  will  be  occasion  to 
remark  his  powers  of  observation  and  his  retentive  memory.  To  these 
natural  gifts  he  owed  many  of  his  faults,  and  most  of  his  merits,  as  a 
writer.  Of  him,  as  of  the  moralists,  we  may  say  that  he  gave  back  to 
society  the  good  and  the  evil  he  had  observed  in  it.  But  it  must  be 
added  that  his  eyes  turned  by  preference  to  one  side  of  the  medal. 

Courtilz  began  his  literary  career  as  a  pamphleteer,  a  hawker  of 
political  and  social  scandal.  He  wrote  by  turns  for  and  against  his 
country's  policy ;  he  exposed  with  no  little  gusto  the  unedifying  private 
life  of  courtiers  and  great  ladies.  It  cannot  be  said  that  everything 
in  these  writings  is  false  ;  there  is  only  too  much  reason  to  believe  that 
Courtilz  gives  a  fairly  truthful  picture  of  profligate  Paris  in  his  time. 
It  is  certain,  however,  that  he  did  not  seek  truth  for  its  own  sake. 
Ribald  gossip  proved  good  copy,  and  was  remunerative. 

The  rapid  rise  of  France  aroused  violent  protests.  Louis  XIV  was 
accused  of  aiming  at  universal  empire,  and  of  using  any  means,  fair 
or  foul,  to  attain  his  end.  His  partisans  answered  with  abuse  of  his 
assailants,  and  with  exaggerated  flattery  of  the  king.  Courtilz  had  a 
foot  in  both  camps.  In  1683  there  appeared  two  pamphlets  entitled: 
La  Conduite  de  la  France. . .  and  Rdponse  au  livre  intitule :  La  Conduite, 
etc.  There  is  good  reason  to  believe  that  Courtilz  wrote  both,  hoping 
thus  to  reap  a  double  harvest.  In  the  first  he  heaps  unmeasured  abuse 
on  the  policy  of  France,  and  in  the  second  (purporting,  of  course,  to  be 
from  another  hand)  he  refutes  a  part  of  his  previous  allegations,  and 
contradicts  the  rest.  Setting  a  thief  to  catch  a  thief,  we  may  quote  one 
phrase  which  applies  to  all  the  author's  work.  The  Reponse  remarks  of 


BENJAMIN    M.    WOODBEIDGE 


477 


the  writer  of  the  Conduite :  '  Je  dirais  qu'il  les  aurait  pulse's  [ses  raison- 
nements]  entierement  dans  les  Gazettes,  n'etait  qu'il  y  ajoute  beaucoup 
du  sien,  afin,  comme  je  crois,  de  deguiser  le  vol  qu'il  y  a  fait.' 

A  third  pamphlet,  the  pretentious  title  of  which  may  be  abridged  to 
tenements  remarquables,  was  published  the  same  year.  It  is  interesting 
because  it  displays  clearly  certain  traits  which  characterize  all  Courtilz' 
work.  The  ostensible  purpose  is  to  glorify  the  existing  government  by 
contrasting  it  with  the  disorder  which  marked  the  last  years  of  Louis 
XIII  and  continued  during  the  Fronde.  But  the  greater  part  of  the 
book  is  packed  with  anecdotes  of  this  troubled  period  in  which  Courtilz 
so  often  set  his  scenes.  The  announcement  of  his  purpose  in  the  preface 
recurs  in  all  his  works  ;  he  has  access  to  some  secret  source  of  information 
and  promises  '  des  particularites  inconnues.'  And  so  h«  indulges  his 
passion  for  attributing  pettiness  to  the  great,  and  affects  to  illuminate 
important  events  with  scurrilous  anecdotes.  Another  series  of  pamphlets 
in  which  the  desire  to  exploit  scandal  is  still  more  apparent  is  re- 
presented by  Les  Conqudtes  Amoureuses  du  Grand  Alcandre  dans  les 
Pays-Bas.  This  libel,  like  others  with  similar  titles  published  by 
Courtilz  shortly  afterwards,  is  allied  to  Bussy-Rabutin's  Histoire 
Amoureuse  des  Gaules.  Although  carelessly  written,  it  and  its  fellows 
show  a  certain  talent  for  fleet  narration  and  burlesque  scenes. 

Courtilz  returns  to  politics  with  the  Nouveaux  Inter  ets  des  Princes 
de  V Europe,  published  in  1685.  Here  he  formulates  a  Machiavellian 
doctrine  accepted  by  all  his  heroes.  Further,  some  attention  is  due 
to  the  method  of  the  book,  which  is  suggested  by  the  Due  de  Rohan's 
work,  De  V Interest  des  Princes  et  E stats  de  la  Chrestiente,  printed  in  1639  5 
this  contains  a  summary  discussion  of  the  policy  which  princes  should 
follow  for  the  aggrandizement  of  their  states.  There  is  nothing  original 
in  the  maxims,  which  are  practically  identical  with  Machiavelli's  cynical 
theories.  While  the  duke  lays  down  general  laws,  Courtilz  studies  the 
changing  phases  of  politics.  He  had  his  eye  on  the  men  and  problems 
of  the  moment,  and  tried  to  express  them  to  the  life.  The  same  method, 
characteristic  of  all  his  work,  explains  his  success  in  passing  off  his 
novels  as  genuine  -history.  Though  some  of  the  so-called  Memoires 
begin  under  Richelieu,  and  though  the  author  lingers  long  over  the 
scenes  of  the  Fronde,  he  closes  near  the  time  of  composition.  To  deceive 
his  contemporaries  he  was  bound  not  to  depart  too  far  from  verisimilitude. 
This  is  the  secret  of  his  realism. 

Owing  to  its  journalistic  quality  the  Nouveaux  Inter  ets  was  soon  out 
of  date.  The  need  for  constant  revision  seems  to  have  suggested  the 


478  Gatien  de  Courtilz 

idea  of  a  political  monthly  gazette,  the  Mercure  Historique  et  Politique1. 
This  review,  edited  by  Courtilz  from  November  1686  to  March  1689, 
resembles  the  former  treatise  in  content.  The  author  disavowed  all 
moral  responsibility,  and  would  say  with  Machiavelli,  that  he  had  only 
put  at  the  service  of  sovereigns  what  their  policy  had  taught  him  ; 
on  all  sides  he  had  watched  the  practical  working  of  the  maxim :  '  qui 
ne  sait  pas  dissimuler,  n'est  pas  digne  de  remplir  le  tr6ne.' 

Yet  the  writer's  heroes  are  not  impossible  fantastic  villains  :  they 
sow  their  wild  oats  like  the  rest,  for,  as  d'Artagnan  says  :  '  la  jeunesse 
ne  demande  que  d'avoir  un  pied  toujours  en  1'air';  but  fundamentally 
they  are  such  average  honest  men  as  one  might  find  without  Diogenes' 
lantern.  Their  hands  are  smirched  with  intrigue,  but  the  trickery  is 
practised  in  the  interest  of  the  great ;  they  serve  their  employers 
faithfully,  while  their  fingers  itch  to  unmask  their  paymasters. 
Although  occupied  with  practical  politics  and  plots,  Courtilz  knew  how 
to  render  character.  In  Richelieu  and  Mazarin  and  many  others  we  see 
the  real  men ;  their  confidential  servants,  the  heroes  of  the  Memoires, 
make  it  their  business  to  reveal  to  us  the  inner  workings  of  the  minds 
of  these  masters  of  statecraft.  This  method  of  portraiture  by  anecdotic 
illustration — the  method  of  Plutarch2 — appears  fully  developed  in 
Courtilz'  biographies  of  Turenne  and  Gaspard  de  Coligny.  These  are 
perhaps  the  only  great  men  at  whom  he  never  scoffs.  As  an  old  soldier, 
he  could  appreciate  military  qualities,  and  he  presents  this  pair  of  pala- 
dins as  most  accomplished  leaders  and  as  gentlemen  without  reproach. 

Here  then  is  the  cult  of  the  hero,  a  hero  whose  character  is  conveyed 
in  a  vehicle  of  anecdote.  This  method  has,  of  course,  alternative 
possibilities  :  other  incidents  may  be  chosen  or  those  chosen  may  be 
given  a  different  turn,  so  that  demigods  are  reduced  to  plain  men  and 
women.  This  is  the  plan  followed  by  literary  picaros,  and  Gil  Bias 
at  the  Spanish  court  had  predecessors  among  his  creator's  fellow-country- 
men. Not  for  nothing  had  Courtilz  lived  under  the  Fronde,  and  sat 
round  camp-fires  with  veterans  of  the  civil  wars.  At  heart  a  frondeur, 
he  looked  on  respect  for  traditional  authority  as  an  inviting  bubble.  It 
called  for  pricking :  he  pricked  it  with  indifferent  cynicism. 

In  the  works  already  considered — they  are  among  the  first  known 
writings  of  Courtilz — the  man's  temper  and  method  are  foreshadowed. 

1  See  Hermann  Kunge,  Gatien  de  Courtilz  de  Sandras  und  die  Anfdnge  des  Mercure, 
Halle,  1886-7. 

2  For  a  phrase  which  might  be  found  in  any  of  Courtilz'  prefaces,  cf.  the  life  of  Nicias, 
end  of  Chap,  n  (Amyot's  translation). 

Several  interesting  parallels,  especially  with  the  life  of  Alexander,  might  be  noted. 


BENJAMIN    M.    WOODBRIDGE  479 

But,  had  he  written  nothing  else,  he  would  have  no  claim  even  to  the 
meagre  interest  which  posterity  takes  in  him.  His  real  significance  lies 
in  his  novels,  or  pseudo-memoirs.  Here,  as  in  his  early  pamphlets, 
he  adopted  a  genre  which  had  already  met  with  favour,  and,  before 
examining  the  typical  form  of  his  novelistic  work,  it  may  be  worth  while 
to  glance  rapidly  at  a  book  which  certainly  gave  him  many  hints. 

In  1676  appeared  the  Memoires  du  Sieur  de  Pontis,  in  which  an  old 
soldier  tells  the  story  of  his  life.  The  preface  states  that  the  memoirs 
were  written  from  the  account  given  by  the  captain  after  his  retreat  to 
Port-Royal.  The  anonymous  author  declares  that  Pontis  was  most 
unwilling  to  continue  his  story  when  he  learned  that  there  were  thoughts 
of  publishing  it1.  ^ 

The  hero,  orphaned  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  goes  to  Paris  to  seek  his 
fortune.  Friends  give  him  a  letter  to  M.  de  Cre"qui,  who  obtains  for 
him  a  post  in  the  guards  of  Henry  IV.  His  fortune  varies,  but  at  last 
he  finds  his  place  in  the  regular  army  of  the  king.  He  relates  the  story 
of  his  campaigns  in  the  religious  wars,  but  speaks  only  of  the  battles  and 
sieges  in  which  magna  pars  fuit.  The  Memoires  become  the  chronicle  of 
his  personal  exploits,  and  lose  much  of  their  vivacity.  He  lingers  long 
over  the  capture  of  a  demilune  where  he  was  the  first  to  cross  the  trench, 
but  he  never  speaks  of  the  cause  of  the  war,  and  hardly  mentions  the 
enemy.  The  reader  is  constantly  invited  to  admire  his  dare-devil  deeds, 
as  his  chiefs  tell  him  off  for  the  most  perilous  enterprises.  He  takes  a 
naive  pleasure  in  describing  his  private  interviews  with  the  king,  and  in 
insisting  on  the  special  favours  accorded  him.  Here  is  a  typical  example 
which  has  more  than  one  counterpart  in  Courtilz'  novels :  '  Le  roi,  qui 
voulait  expres  me  te'moigner  beaucoup  de  froideur,  pour  mieux  cacher 
1'intelligence  secrete  qui  etait  entre  lui  et  moi,  m'ecoutait  avec  une  con- 
tenance  fiere,  la  main  sur  le  cdte,  e"tant  au  milieu  des  deux  cardinaux,' 
Weary  at  last  of  strife,  Pontis  retires  to  the  abbey  of  Port-Royal. 

The  story  met  with  a  considerable  success,  and  no  less  a  personage 
than  the  Abbe  Arnauld  declares  that  it  inspired  the  writing  of  his  own 
Memoires.  Though  Courtilz  is  less  ingenuous,  many  parallels  might  be 
cited  to  prove  his  indebtedness  to  Pontis.  But  he  has  enriched  his 
matter,  at  the  same  time  giving  relief  and  probability  to  the  exploits  of 
his  heroes,  by  the  introduction  of  events  in  which  they  had  no  part. 

1  For  Pontis,  see  Ste-Beuve,  Port-Royal,  n,  pp.  570  ff. ;  P.  Tamizey  de  Larroque,  Revue 
d'Aquitaine,  Aug.,  1863,  pp.  61  fif.,  and  bibliography  there  cited. 

The  Memoires  were  actually  written  by  Pierre  Thomas,  sieur  du  Fosse"  (Lelong,  Diet. 
Hist.,  No.  23738  (ed.  of  Fevretj). 


480  Gatien  de  Courtilz 

At  one  moment  he  exaggerates  their  rdle,  at  another  he  presents  them 
as  simple  spectators  discussing  the  actions  of  their  contemporaries. 

There  is  also  to  be  noted  a  marked  difference  in  the  spirit  of  the 
two  men.  Pontis  is  of  a  simple-minded  sincerity :  he  takes  life,  as  he 
takes  himself,  with  quaint  seriousness.  For  him  the  king  rules  by 
divine  right ;  he  accepts  the  whole  social  hierarchy  as  established.  At 
times  he  perceives  the  selfish  motives  of  courtiers,  especially  of  Richelieu? 
but  as  a  rule,  if  he  permits  himself  anecdotes  derogatory  to  prominent 
personages,  this  is  done  with  a  view  to  helping  readers  to  understand 
these  great  men  better.  Courtilz  mockingly  analyses  the  power  as  well 
as  the  lives  of  potentates  ;  he  finds  their  estate  maintained  by  means  to 
which  no  private  gentleman  would  stoop,  and  themselves  moved  by 
the  same  base  passions  as  the  lowliest  of  their  subjects.  He  loves  to 
emphasize  the  contrast  between  the  majesty  of  these  superior  beings 
and  their  real  character  (so  like  his  own).  Pontis  has  glimpses  of  this 
resemblance,  but  reverences  princes  all  the  more  :  he  would  fain  believe 
himself  formed  in  the  image  of  his  gods.  For  Courtilz  these  gods 
are  anthropomorphic,  and  their  presumptuous  vanity  is  proportionately 
ludicrous.  He  has  given  his  own  picaresque  interpretation  to  Machiavelli's 
saying  that  a  private  citizen  is  in  the  best  position  to  judge  magnates. 
Not  that  the  humble  escape  Courtilz'  satire  entirely ;  but  he  found 
a  keener  relish  in  flouting  the  pretensions  of  those  in  high  places. 

The  only  two  works  of  our  author  which  have  escaped  oblivion  are 
the  Memoires  de  M.L.C.D.R.  (1687),  and  the  Memoires  de  M.  d'Artagnan 
(1700).  The  first,  usually  known  as  the  Memoirs  of  the  Count  of 
Rochefort,  was  Courtilz'  first  essay  in  this  genre.  The  preface  states  that 
the  author  had  charged  his  friends  to  destroy  the  manuscript,  probably 
for  fear  of  offending  contemporaries  by  the  unflattering  anecdotes  related 
at  their  cost.  Similar  prefaces  precede  all  the  novels,  and  seem  meant 
as  a  bait  to  readers  hungering  for  scandal. 

The  Memoirs  of  Rochefort  begin  with  the  birth  of  the  hero,  brought 
prematurely  into  the  world  owing  to  a  carriage  accident.  His  mother 
died  two  days  later,  and  his  father,  entrusting  him  to  the  care  of 
a  nurse,  went  up  to  Paris  where  he  had  many  amatory  adventures  in 
which  the  provincial  distrust  of  Parisians  is  amusingly  depicted.  He 
finally  married  a  lady  of  his  own  province,  who  cruelly  maltreated  her 
step-son.  Rochefort  relates  how,  when  a  child,  he  joined  a  troop  of 
gipsies,  and  a  vivid  page  describing  his  life  with  them,  includes  a  little 
novel  of  picaresque  adventure  in  epitome.  Quitting  these  vagabonds,  he 


BENJAMIN    M.    WOODBRIDGE 


481 


was  attached  to  a  military  outpost  and  distinguished  himself  by  surprising 
a  Spanish  officer  at  an  amorous  rendezvous.  His  account  of  this  incident, 
which  smacks  of  bivouac  gasconades,  is  typical  :  '  Pendant  qu'ils  s'amu- 
saient  a  faire  1'amour,  j'entrai,  deux  pjstolets  de  ceinture  a  mes  deux 
mains,  et  1'ayant  desarme  comme  un  mouton,  je  lui  dis  que  s'il  ne 
marchait  devant  moi,  et  sans  rien  dire,  je  lui  allais  mettre  la  bourre 
dans  le  ventre.5 

The  vigilant  Richelieu  hears  of  this  feat,  and  summons  our  hero  to 
court.  On  the  way  Rochefort  halts  at  his  native  village,  where  the  cure 
tells  him  of  an  accident  which  had  thrown  his  family  into  despair.  This 
story  is  of  interest  because  it  may  well  have  suggested  a  similar  adventure 
of  Gil  Bias.  The  cure  relates  how  the  elder  Rochefort  has  just  been 
robbed  of  a  considerable  sum  of  money  by  an  ingenious  triqk.  A  relative 
was  in  trouble  as  the  result  of  a  love  affair,  and  had  gone  into  hiding.  A 
band  of  rogues  disguised  themselves  as  constables,  ransacked  the  house 
under  pretext  of  searching  for  the  fugitive,  bound  the  owner  and  carried 
off  all  they  could  lay  hands  on1.  Our  wanderer  arrives  at  this  juncture 
and,  being  supposed  to  be  himself  in  want,  is  so  unwelcome  that  he  is 
refused  fodder  for  his  horses.  He  smiles  ironically,  and  his  valet  informs 
the  household  that  his  master  has  been  called  to  court  by  Richelieu.  As 
a  prospective  favourite  of  the  minister,  Rochefort  now  meets  with  a  very 
different  reception ;  relatives  are  summoned  to  do  him  honour,  and  all 
the  village  is  agog. 

At  court,  Rochefort  quickly  gains  the  confidence  of  the  cardinal,  who 
entrusts  him  with  various  important  secret  missions.  He  cannot,  how- 
ever, refrain  from  remarking :  '  Je  crois  qu'il  y  avait  plus  de  mystere  a 
tout  cela  que  de  necessite,  et  que  ce  ii'etait  que  pour  voir  si  on  lui 
serait  fidele,  ou  pour  rendre  son  ministere  plus  estime  par  le  secret.' 
Such  skilful  anticipations  of  the  reader's  criticism  account  in  some 
measure  for  the  wide  acceptance  which  Courtilz'  writings  found.  The 
*  mystery '  in  which  Richelieu  loved  to  shroud  his  acts  has  been  a 
favourite  theme  with  romancers. 

Rochefort 's  efforts  are  soon  rewarded  by  the  gift  of  a  little  abbey, 
which  he  presents  to  his  friend,  the  village  cure.  His  family,  who  had 
mocked  at  his  offers  of  service,  now  overwhelms  him  with  reproaches. 
A  host  of  hitherto  unknown  relatives  in  his  province  besiege  him  for 
favours.  Yet  he  is  only  a  page  at  court.  As  a  last  test  of  fide- 
lity, Richelieu  orders  him  to  arrest  his  cousin  and  benefactor,  the 
Marechal  de  Marillac.  He  obeys  unwillingly,  and  is  nearly  disgraced  for 

1  For  the  parallel  in  Gil  Bias,  see  Book  vi,  Chap.  i. 


482  G'atien  de  Courtitz 

intervening  on  behalf  of  the  prisoner,  whose  only  crime  was  to  have 
aroused  the  cardinal's  jealousy.  Rochefort  is  soon  reinstated,  however, 
and  Richelieu  suggests  to  him  an  advantageous  marriage.  Like  all 
Courtilz'  heroes,  he  is  suspicious  on  this  point,  and,  as  he  says,  '  marche 
bride  en  main.'  Having  visited  the  young  lady,  and  having  readily 
understood  why  her  parents  wish  to  find  her  a  husband,  he  breaks  with 
them  abruptly.  They  complain  to  Richelieu,  who  imprisons  our  hero, 
and,  without  deigning  to  listen  to  his  defence,  swears  that  he  shall  die. 
Hearing  of  this  threat,  Rochefort  calmly  reflects  that  '  les  plus  grands 
hommes  se  trompent  comme  les  autres.'  Pardoned  as  hastily  as  he  was 
condemned,  he  is  sent  to  Brussels  to  watch  the  intriguing  Mme  de 
Chevreuse.  He  goes  disguised  as  a  Capuchin,  and,  to  throw  spies  off 
their  guard,  stays  for  some  days  before  his  departure  at  a  monastery  in 
Paris.  He  gaily  relates  his  journey  and  his  distaste  for  the  monastic 
habit :  '  Pour  comble  de  malheur,  il  me  fallut,  apres  cela,  assister  &, 
1'eglise ;  tellement  que  je  crus  que  le  cardinal  m'avait  envoy e  la  pour 
faire  mon  purgatoire.'  He  discovers  a  plot  against  the  court,  and  the 
Comte  de  Ghalais,  who  was  implicated,  is  shortly  after  beheaded. 

Returning  to  Paris,  Rochefort  fights  a  duel  with  an  Englishman  who 
had  spoken  disparagingly  of  his  master.  Three  of  the  combatants  are 
killed,  and  our  hero  is  obliged  to  flee.  He  gives  himself  up  soon  after 
by  the  command  of  the  cardinal,  who  secretly  protects  him  during  his 
trial.  After  his  acquittal,  Richelieu  informs  him  that  the  prosecution 
was  a  matter  of  form  to  avoid  scandal,  and  reminds  him  of  the  sentence 
of  the  Corntes  de  Bouteville  and  des  Chapelles.  The  incident  recalls  the 
pardon  granted  to  Pontis  by  Henry  IV,  but  a  new  note  is  audible.  In 
the  midst  of  his  gratitude,  Rochefort  cannot  resist  the  malicious  in- 
sinuation that  a  personal  spite  against  the  house  of  Conde  had  occasioned 
the  execution  of  the  famous  duellists.  There  is  also  a  characteristic 
trait  of  Courtilz'  method :  an  adventure  of  his  hero  is  introduced  to 
exhibit  the  temper  of  potentates.  Jealous  of  the  power  of  the  nobility, 
the  cardinal  had  done  his  utmost  to  enforce  the  law  against  duelling 
when  a  Montmorency1  was  guilty,  but  he  intervenes  to  save  a  private 
gentleman  who  enjoys  his  favour.  Again,  the  too  convincing  description 
of  the  role  played  by  Rochefort  in  the  seizure  of  the  original  of  Cinq 
Mars'  treaty  with  Spain,  is  made  the  occasion  for  a  vivid  account  of  the 
tension  between  the  king  and  the  cardinal.  It  will  be  seen  that  Courtilz 

1  For  Bouteville,  see  Jal,  Diet.  Grit. ;  E.  Colombey,  Hist.  Anec.  du  Duel,  Chap,  vni ; 
E.  and  J.  Halphen,  Journal  Inedit  d'Arnauld  d'Andilly.  For  the  last  duel  see  the  Journal 
for  the  year  1627,  pp.  15-20  and  26-35. 


BENJAMIN    M.    WOODBRIDGE 


483 


is  grossly  inaccurate  in  detail:  Richelieu  never  had  anything  but  a  copy 
of  the  famous  treaty,  and  how  he  obtained  even  this  is  still  a  mystery. 
Yet  the  spirit  of  the  moment  is  so  vividly  reproduced,  that  at  least  one 
historian1  cites  Rochefort's  account,  though  without  guaranteeing  its 
truth. 

After  the  death  of  his  master,  Rochefort  attaches  himself  to  the 
party  of  the  Due  de  Beaufort.  Like  all  Courtilz'  heroes,  he  hated 
Mazarin,  whose  sordid  avarice,  complaisance  and  perfidy  he  never  tires 
of  exposing.  He  passes  rapidly  over  the  Fronde2,  having  spent  much 
time  in  prison  during  that  period.  Like  many  of  his  contemporaries,  he 
learned  the  general  moral  of  all  the  Memoir es :  '  Ce  fut  alors  que  je 
recorinus  le  peu  de  fonds  qu'il  y  a  a  faire  sur  la  parole  des  grands, 
lesquels  nous  promettent  tout  quand  ils  croient  avoir  affaire  de  nous,  et 
nous  oublient  des  que  nous  ne  leur  sommes  plus  necessaires.'  The  last 
half  of  the  book  is  an  incoherent  medley  of  anecdotes.  Some  recount 
the  personal  experiences  of  the  hero,  others  merely  repeat  stories  he  had 
heard.  All  are  tinged  with  characteristic  satire,  and  offer  an  interesting 
picture  of  certain  features  of  contemporary  life  and  manners. 

One  of  the  best  satirical  portraits  in  the  Memoires  is  that  of  the 
Marquis  de  Pransac— a  parvenu  who  planned  to  introduce  himself  into 
the  aristocracy  by  means  of  blasoned  equipages.  He  concocted  a  genealogy 
proving  his  royal  descent ;  he  displayed  the  arms  of  France,  and  assumed 
the  title  of  Altesse.  When  the  king  took  the  affair  in  hand,  the  luckless 
marquis  saw  his  carriages  destroyed,  and  himself  in  peril.  Rochefort, 
who  had  humorously  encouraged  the  parvenu's  whimsies,  testified  in 
his  favour,  and  secured  his  acquittal  as  a  maniac. 

One  of  the  many  law-suits  in  which  Courtilz  pays  his  respects  to 
men  of  the  robe  may  be  cited.  Rochefort  is  forced  into  litigation  with 
his  step-mother  over  the  estate  left  by  his  father.  His  adversary,  by 
falsifying  documents,  is  on  the  point  of  winning,  when  a  legal  potentate 
who  wishes  to  remain  anonymous,  offers  him  his  daughter's  hand.  If  he 
accepts,  his  suit  is  won.  Our  hero,  forgetting  his  usual  caution,  is  about 
to  marry  the  unknown  bride,  but,  on  learning  the  name  of  his  future 
father-in-law,  he  breaks  into  a  diatribe  against  him.  A  fortnight  later 
he  loses  his  case,  and  is  condemned  to  pay  costs.  Congratulating 
himself  on  his  escape  from  the  proposed  alliance,  he  recounts  sardoni- 
cally the  lot  of  the  wretch  who  later  accepted  a  similar  offer :  '  La 

1  E.  de  Bury,  Histoire  de  la  Vie  de  Louis  XIII,  Vol.  iv,  pp.  213-215. 

2  Contrary  to  the  custom  of  the  Memoires.    Doubtless  Courtilz  had  said  his  say  for  the 
moment  in  La  Vie  de  Turenne,  1st  edit.,  1685;  enlarged  edit.,  1688. 


484  Gatien  de  Courtilz 

femme  porte  le  haut  de  chausse  vigoureusement,  et  tout  ce  que  son 
mari  peut  faire  aujourd'hui  qui  sente  encore  le  maitre,  c'est  que  quand 
il  lui  plait,  il  va  s'enivrer  a  Chartres,  n'y  ayant  point  de  vin  pour  lui 
dans  sa  maison.'  As  a  result  of  this  disastrous  suit,  our  hero  passes 
three  years  in  prison,  and,  though  he  declares  himself  resigned  to  the 
will  of  Heaven,  he  never  ceases  to  denounce  laws  and  ministers. 

Released  at  last  by  the  intervention  of  the  archbishop  of  Lyons, 
he  relates  various  anecdotes  at  the  expense  of  his  benefactor  whose 
portrait  is  thus  etched :  '  En  effet,  c'est  un  archeveque  entoure  de 
gardes,  au  lieu  de  pretres  :  suivant  un  cerf  a  la  tete  de  cent  chiens, 
au  lieu  de  suivre  la  croix  ;  faisant  bonne  chere,  au  lieu  de  faire  abstinence ; 
ne  parlant  que  des  grandeurs  de  la  cour,  au  lieu  de  parler  de  1'humilite : 
et  enfin,  si  fort  a  charge  a  la  ville  de  Lyon,  qu'il  en  est  plutdt  le  tyran 
que  1'archeveque.' 

A  well-told  incident  is  one  in  which  Rochefort  relates  his  experience 
with  doctors — constant  butts  of  the  picaros,  though  more  gently  treated 
by  Courtilz  than  might  be  expected.  Our  hero  avers  that  a  long  illness 
had  led  him  to  reflect  seriously  and  that  he  had  begun  to  frequent  the 
churches,  where  he  heard  much  of  a  wonder-working  friar.  Wishing  to 
see  this  man  of  miracles,  he  went  to  Flanders  and  thence  to  Germany. 
If  he  saw  no  miraculous  cures,  he  experienced  something  very  like  one. 
A  platform,  on  which  he  had  climbed  with  a  great  crowd  to  see  the 
marvels,  broke  down,  and  his  arm  was  badly  fractured.  He  had  it 
set  by  the  best  doctor  to  be  found,  but  after  three  weeks  of  horrible 
suffering,  decided  to  consult  the  public  executioner,  who  had  some 
reputation  as  a  surgeon.  He  is  received  gruffly  enough  by  this  irregular 
member  of  the  profession,  who  bids  his  men,  still  red-handed  from  break- 
ing a  wretch  on  the  wheel,  hold  the  patient ;  the  executioner  breaks  the 
arm  again,  and  resets  it  so  well  that  in  a  few  days  Rochefort  is  as 
sprightly  as  ever1. 

Did  space  permit,  it  would  be  interesting  to  follow  Rochefort  further. 
Satirical  flashes  abound,  and  they  testify  to  the  author's  observation  of 
social  conditions.  Among  other  incidents,  might  be  cited  the  description 
of  a  number  of  swindlers  at  a  gambling  den  kept  by  the  Due  de  Crequi 
in  his  own  mansion,  in  spite  of  the  protests  of  honest  folk.  The  reader 

1  Another  satirical  touch  may  be  cited  from  the  Memoires  du  marquis  de  D  *  *.  The 
marquis  was  surprised  one  day  to  meet  in  Italy  his  old  valet  dressed  in  gorgeous  attire. 
The  wag  relates  that  he  had  been  in  the  service  of  a  famous  physician,  whose  secrets  were 
not  much  more  complicated  than  those  of  Dr  Sangrado.  He  observed  his  master's  methods 
and  soon  beat  him  at  his  own  trade.  A  suit  followed,  but  he  had  prepared  a  rigmarole 
bristling  with  Greek  and  Latin  which  he  recited  so  glibly  that  he  was  granted  his  degree 
with  honour. 


BENJAMIN    M.    WOODBRIDGE 


485 


is  introduced  to  the  tricks  of  the  sharpers  and  to  some  of  their  victims  ; 
after  which  he  learns  that  the  duke  maintained  the  establishment  to 
give  employment  to  two  old  soldiers,  in  lieu  of  a  pension1. 

But,  when  summarized,  the  adventures  lose  much  of  their  conspicuous 
vigour,  which  consists  largely  in  picturesque  detail,  and  graphic  style. 
Enough  has  been  cited  to  give  an  idea  of  the  whole.  Suffice  it  to 
add  that,  even  in  advancing  age,  Rochefort  is  constantly  '  brouille  avec  la 
justice/  or  with  his  neighbours,  or  with  both  together,  and  at  last,  finding 
only  bad  faith  and  egoism  on  all  sides,  he  decides  to  retire  to  a  monastery, 
and  %nds  his  days  as  his  prototype,  Pontis,  had  done. 


II. 

The  Memoires  de  M.  d'Artagnan  were  published  in  1700.  They  are 
preceded  by  one  of  Courtilz'  customary  prefaces.  The  writer  declares  that 
he  has  merely  pieced  together  papers  left  by  the  captain  of  musketeers. 
He  says  in  part :  '  Je  m'en  suis  servi  pour  composer  ces  Memoires,  en 
leur  donnant  quelque  liaison.  Us  n'en  avaient  point  d'eux-memes,  et 
c'est  la  tout  1'honneur  que  je  pretends  me  donner  de  cette  ouvrage. 
Voila  aussi  tout  ce  que  j'ai  mis  du  mien2.'  All  of  which  simply  indicates 
that  the  author  himself  felt  the  utter  lack  of  coherence  in  his  work,  and 
wished  to  apologise  for  it.  As  someone  has  observed,  if  we  take  him  at 
his  word,  he  deserves  no  credit  whatever.  The  want  of  quelque  liaison  is 
the  worst  fault  of  the  book.  It  would  be  a  thankless  task  to  give 
anything  like  a  connected  analysis  of  it,  and  I  will  merely  cite  a  few 
^incidents  of  special  interest. 

In  general  this  work  is  of  the  same  order  as  the  Memoires  de 
M.L.C.D.R.  The  hero,  a  young  provincial,  comes  to  court,  enters  the 
King's  service,  enjoys  the  confidence  of  many  important  personages,  and 
portrays  their  character  by  recounting  his  relations  with  them,  or  by 

1  I  am  far  from  guaranteeing  the  existence  of  such  a  den.  D'Artagnan  describes 
another  in  the  Louvre.  He  found  there,  'plus  de  presse  qu'il  n:y  en  pouvait  avoir  au 
sermon  du  plus  habile  predicateur  de  Paris.'  He  adds :  'M.  le  due  de  St.  Simon  tenait  le 
d£,  et  regardait  cette  somme  comme  indigne  de  sa  colere.'  However,  D'Artagnan,  with 
the  proverbial  luck  of  a  novice,  won  a  considerable  sum  which  he  carried  in  triumph  to  his 
mistress.  This  recalls  the  famous  scene  in  Balzac,  where  the  young  Eastignac  renders 
a  similar  service  to  Mme  de  Nucingen. 

'2  Owing  perhaps  to  the  fact  that  the  hero  is  a  well-known  historical  figure,  this  part  of 
the  preface  has  been  taken  too  seriously  by  many  readers  in  our  own  day,  as  well  as  by  the 
contemporaries  of  the  author.  Bayle's  repeated  assertions  that  d'Artagnan  had  not  written 
one  word  of  the  work  will  suffice  to  prove  the  credulity  of  readers  of  his  time.  The  proper 
attitude  is  that  of  M.  Samaran  (D'Artagnan,  Paris,  1912),  who  accepts  nothing,  without 
grave  reserves,  on  the  testimony  of  the  Memoires  alone.  A  more  detailed  study  will  show 
that  this  work  is  of  the  same  texture  as  the  other  Memoires. 


486  Gatien  de,  Courtih 

glossing  their  acts  from  supposed  secret  information.  He  also  attempts, 
as  Rochefort  fortunately  did  not,  to  write  an  historical  chronicle  of  the 
epoch,  and  thus  ruins  the  unity  of  the  whole.  The  hero  disappears 
entirely  at  times,  buried  under  the  interminable  description  of  wars  and 
diplomatic  relations.  In  all  this  the  reader  is  constantly  invited  to 
remark  the  Machiavellian  politics  of  kings  and  ministers.  The  spirit  is 
that  of  the  Mercure. 

The  most  interesting  portions  of  the  book  are  the  portrait  of  Mazarin 
and  the  personal  adventures  of  the  hero,  who  thus  gives,  as  Dumas  has 
it,  '  tableaux  de  1'epoque.'  The  opening  scenes — the  arrival  of  the  hero 
at  Paris,  his  meeting  with  Porthos,  Athos  and  Aramis,  his  first  duels — 
all  these  have  been  made  famous  by  Dumas.  It  may  be  said  here  that 
it  is  doubtful  whether  the  expanded  imitations  have  always  equalled  the 
original.  Courtilz  had  surely  known  compatriots,  at  least,  of  d' Artagnan, 
and  has  rendered  his  portrait  convincingly1.  The  liaison  of  the  hero 
with  his  hostess  (called  by  Dumas,  Mme  de  Bonacieux)  is  vividly  told  in 
the  Memoires.  On  one  occasion,  surprised  by  the  jealous  husband,  he 
is  obliged  to  jump  from  the  window  in  scant  attire.  Friends  furnish 
clothing,  and  he  goes  to  complain  to  a  magistrate  to  whom  he  tells  a 
true  Gascon's  story.  This  precaution  he  deems  necessary  to  justify: 
'  S'il  est  vrai  qu'il  n'y  ait  point  de  ville  au  monde  ou  il  se  fasse  tant  de 
cocus  impunement  qu'a  Paris... cet  abus  se  punit  dans  de  certains  cas.' 
To  assure  himself  of  the  magistrate's  support,  he  leaves  him  a  well- 
lined  purse,  and  soon  lands  his  man  in  the  Chatelet.  Here  the  wretch 
was  grievously  illtreated  by  his  guards,  and  'commenca  a  connaitre 
qu'il  eut  mieux  fait  de  souffrir  d'etre  cocu  sans  rien  dire,  que  d'etre 
expose  a  tant  de  peines  et  d'affronts  pour  s'en  etre  voulu  plaindre.' 
D' Artagnan  further  takes  measures  to  inform  two  varlets,  imprisoned 
with  their  master,  that  their  necks  are  in  danger  if  they  do  not  abscond. 
One  of  them  was  entirely  innocent  of  the  proposed  assassination,  but 
knowing  '  qu'il  se  faisait  bien  des  injustices  a  Paris,  et  que  Ton  n'y 
condamnait  pas  moms  d'innocents  que  Ton  y  sauvait  de  coupables,'  both 
take  advantage  of  the  opportunity  arranged  for  their  escape.  Their 
flight  is  then  used  to  blacken  the  case  of  their  master.  However,  the 
latter  writes  a  touching  letter  to  the  brother-in-law  of  M.  de  Treville — an 
honest  man,  though  a  magistrate — and  obtains  his  release.  D'Artagnan 
receives  from  his  chief  a  sharp  rebuke  which  lays  bare  a  social  ulcer  : 
'  II  ne  disconvenait  pas,  dit-il,  a  la  verite  que  les  bonnes  graces  d'une 

1  For  Dumas'  borrowings  see  J.  Bernieres,  Le  Prototype  de  d1  Artagnan  in  La  Revue 
Pol.  et  Lilt.,  10  mars  1888;  L' Inter mediaire,  T.  xxxiv,  p.  162. 


BENJAMIN    M.    WOODBRIDGE  487 

dame  ne  servissent  a  faire  briller  le  merite  d'un  jeune  homme  ;  mais 
pour  que  cela  fut,  il  fallait  que  la  dame  fut  d'un  autre  rang  que  celle  que 
je  voyais ;  que  1'intrigue  que  Ton  avait  avec  une  femme  de  qualite 
passait  pour  galanterie,  au  lieu  que  celle  que  Ton  avait  avec  celles  qui 
ressemblaient  a  ma  maitresse,  ne  passait  que  pour  debauche  et  pour 
crapule.'  D'Artagnan  feels  the  injustice  of  this  rebuke,  and  in  his  com- 
mentary may  be  heard  the  accent  of  a  revolt  destined  to  grow  stronger. 
Another  picaro,  named  Figaro,  was  to  say  the  same  thing  in  more 
ringing  tones  nearly  a  century  later.  In  general,  these  heroes  relate 
their  stories  without  adding  their  own  reflexions — the  facts  speak  for 
themselves.  But  this  time  d'Artagnan  cannot  refrain :  '  Apres  tout,  le 
vice  est  toujours  vice,  et  il  n'est  pas  plus  permis  a  une  femme  de 
qualite  de  faire  I'amour  qu'a  celle  de  la  lie  du  peuple  :  mais  comme 
1'usage  autorisait  ses  reproches,  je  m'en  trouvai  si  etourdi  que  je  n'eus 
pas  la  force  de  lui  repondre  une  seule  parole.' 

An  incident  which  shows  the  author's  familiarity  with  street  riots  is 
the  dramatic  account  of  the  day  of  the  barricades,  following  the  arrest  of 
the  parliamentary  counsellor,  Broussel.  D'Artagnan  had  the  curiosity  to 
visit  the  scene,  and,  on  answering  '  Vive  le  roi  et  vive  Broussel ! '  to  the 
sentry's  challenge,  was  promptly  received.  He  was  struck  with  the  great 
quantity  of  wine,  of  which  the  rioters  were  making  free  use.  He  was 
obliged  to  drink  with  them  in  sign  of  good  fellowship.  While,  as  he 
says, '  je  faisais  pair  et  compagnon  avec  cette  canaille,'  a  drunken  ruffian 
asked  his  assistance  in  an  attempt  on  the  life  of  Mazarin.  Our  hero  put 
off  the  would-be  assassin,  hoping  that  the  night  would  bring  sobriety 
and  better  counsel.  When,  on  the  following  day  he  arrived  at  the 
rendezvous  more  excited  than  ever,  d'Artagnan  led  him  into  an  ambush 
of  guards.  To  the  great  alarm  of  the  cardinal  the  mob  released  him  the 
same  day.  The  episode  is  effective  as  a  vivid  picture  of  the  spirit  of  the 
moment — of  the  power  of  the  people  and  their  hatred  of  Mazarin. 

D'Artagnan  is  never  tired  of  insisting  on  the  dishonesty  and  cowardice 
of  the  cardiual  in  personal  and  official  relations,  and  on  the  venality  he 
introduced  into  all  the  affairs  of  government.  Hence  he  was  universally 
hated,  and  all  the  prudence  of  the  Prince  of  Conde  was  needed  to  prevent 
an  outburst  of  popular  fury.  Courtilz  is  always  too  much  inclined  to 
represent  the  Fronde  as  the  direct  result  of  the  vices  of  the  prime 
minister.  The  great  Conde  was  less  favourably  disposed  to  Mazarin  who 
did  his  best  to  conciliate  him.  D'Artagnan  even  pretends  to  have  over- 
heard and  to  reproduce  the  broken  French  of  his  servile  flattery.  I  may 
add  that  during  all  the  intrigues  of  the  Fronde,  the  cardinal  is  represented 


488  Gatien  de  Courtilz 

as  one  who  '  en  matiere  des  ruses  et  de  fourberie  eut  ete  bien  fache  de  le 
ce'der  a  aucun.'  His  insolent  distrust  of  his  generals  is  dramatically 
brought  out  in  an  incident  told  of  the  siege  of  Gravelines.  On  the  eve 
of  a  battle,  the  artillery  w,m  found  to  be  lacking  powder,  and  this  was 
refused  by  the  officer  •\\s£fose  duty  it  was  to  supply  it.  Complaint  was 
made  to  the  Marechal  de  la  Meillerie  who  swore  to  have  the  delinquent 
hanged  in  a  trice.  The  latter  calmly  produced  an  order  from  Mazarin 
directing  him  to  await  the  third  or  fourth  demand  for  powder  before 
supplying  it,  'pour  que  les  officiers  superieurs  ne  volent  pas  le  roi.' 
The  marshal,  thus  insulted,  appealed  to  the  Due  d'Orle'ans,  who  only 
laughed,  asking  '  s'il  ne  savait  pas  que  des  qu'on  etait  d'une  humeur, 
on  se  laissait  aller  aisement  a  croire  des  autres  tout  ce  que  Ton  ressentait 
en  soi.'  The  duke  then  related  a  string  of  similar  orders  by  Son 
Excellence.  All  of  which  did  not  save  the  unhappy  officer  (though,  to 
avoid  scandal,  the  rumour  was  spread  that  he  had  committed  suicide). 
D'Artagnan  adds :  '  Mais,  si  cela  est,  on  avait  bien  voulu  lui  preter  une 
corde  et  un  clou  pour  se  pendre  au  plancher  d'une  mechante  maison.' 
It  is  specially  from  personal  relations  with  Mazarin  that  our  hero 
draws  his  portrait.  He  observes  that  all  favours  were  reserved  for  the 
creatures  of  the  minister,  who  maintained  a  gambling  den  where  it  was 
essential  to  lose  in  order  to  win  promotion.  Those  who  failed  in  this 
respect  were  unable  even  to  obtain  the  payment  of  their  salaries. 

However,  D'Artagnan  and  his  compatriot  Besmaus1  were  at  last 
taken  into  the  personal  service  of  the  cardinal,  who  promised  to  look 
after  their  interests.  They  at  first  believed  themselves  at  the  top  of 
fortune's  wheel,  but  soon  had  to  change  their  key,  for  '  si  nous  avions  des 
bas  nous  n'avions  pas  de  souliers,'  remarks  our  hero.  After  he  had 
fulfilled  various  delicate  missions  in  which  his  life  was  constantly  in 
danger,  the  cardinal  offered  him  a  company  in  the  guards,  but  asked 
twenty  thousand  francs  in  return.  In  order  to  forestall  objections, 
Mazarin  caused  this  sum  to  be  offered  by  four  financiers.  At  the  same 
time  a  young  woman,  more  beautiful  and  wealthy  than  virtuous,  pro- 
poses a  large  dowry  with  her  hand.  Our  Gascon  hoped  to  have  the 
crowns  pour  ses  beaux  yeux,  but  he  met  his  match.  Whereupon,  as 
he  did  not  wish  to  be,  as  he  says,  '  de  la  grande  confrerie,'  he  was 
escorted  to  the  door  '  sans  tambour  et  sans  trompette.'  D'Artagnan, 
like  Courtilz'  other  heroes,  is  as  ill-starred  in  serious  courtship  as  he 
is  successful  in  gallantry.  Mazarin  pressed  the  new  lieutenant  for 

1  For  Besmaus,  see  the  Gazette  de  France,  23  Oct.  1646;  for  d'Artagnan,  Chron.  Hist. 
Mil.  of  Pinart,  Vol.  vi,  p.  418;  for  both  compare  Mem.  de  M.L.C.D.R.,  p.  165.  Pinart 
cites  no  other  authority  than  the  Memoires. 


WOODBRIDGE 


489 


payment,  and  obliged  him  to  have  recourse  to  the  financiers.  Unhappily, 
he  related  to  them,  as  a  jest,  the  proposed  marriage.  Instead  of  money 
he  received  only  the  most  cynical  counsel.  At  last  he  obtained  a  loan 
from  a  man  who  shared  his  prejudices.  The  latter  begged  him  not  to 
specify  the  source  of  the  money.  D'Artagnan  took  the  purse  to  his 
Eminence  who  sniffed  at  it,  and  invited  him  to  do  the  same,  asking  if 
he  detected  any  disagreeable  smell.  On  his  giving  a  negative  answer, 
Mazarin  assured  him  that  all  which  came  from  the  same  source  would 
be  equally  untainted.  No  need  to  be  a  Gascon  to  infer  that  the  cardinal, 
as  soon  as  he  heard  of  the  marriage  proposal,  had,  with  the  best  inten- 
tions, forbidden  the  financiers  to  lend  the  money.  To  him,  observes 
d'Artagnan,  the  bitterest  pill  is  poverty. 

On  another  occasion  the  cardinal  communicates  to  his  lieutenant  his 
private  views  on  politics.  He  was  hoping  to  place  one  of  his  nieces  on 
the  throne  of  England,  and  sent  d'Artagnan  to  get  exact  information 
concerning  the  true  state  of  affairs.  He  was  uncertain  whether  to 
negociate  a  marriage  with  the  son  of  the  protector  or  with  Charles  II. 
Finding  his  ambassador's  sympathy  all  against  Cromwell,  he  sets  forth  a 
doctrine  in  which  the  divine  right  of  kings  is  treated  with  scant  respect : 
'II  me  dit...qu'il  fallait  que  je  susse  que  ce  qui  paraissait  tirannique 
au  commencement  devenait  juste  dans  la  suite;  que  le  temps  rectifiait 
toutes  choses,  tellement.  qu'avec  un  peu  de  patience  un  usurpateur  et 
ineme  un  tiran  devenait  roi  legitime ;  qu'il  voulait  done  que  j'aimasse 
Cromwell  si  les  Anglais  1'aimaient,  et  que  je  le  haisse  s'ils  le  haissaient : 
que  c'etait  la  la  pierre  de  touche  dont  il  voulut  que  je  me  servisse  pour 
connaitre  s'il  regnait  sur  eux  legitimement,  puisqu'aussi  bien  il  ne 
dependait  que  de  la  de  savoir  si  sa  race  lui  succederait  on  non,  comme 
nos  rois  avaient  succede  a  leurs  peres.'  D'Artagnan  finds  '  cette  decision 
merveilleuse  et  bien  digne  de  lui,'  but  promises  to  do  his  best.  Re- 
turning to  France  after  a  series  of  gallant  adventures  which  seem  to 
have  very  little  relation  to  the  object  of  his  journey,  he  receives  a  large 
recompense  for  services  rendered  to  the  state. 

These  few  incidents,  chosen  among  a  thousand  which  throw  the  same 
light  on  Mazarin's  character,  must  suffice.  Needless  to  say  that  in  the 
disgrace  of  Fouquet  the  attitude  of  the  hero  is  always  the  same.  It  will 
be  remembered  that  d'Artagnan  was  charged  with  the  arrest  of  the 
minister  of  finance,  and  the  Memoires  give  a  dramatic  account  of  the 
whole  affair.  Speaking  of  the  papers  left  by  the  cardinal  to  implicate 
Fouquet,  our  hero  remarks :  '  On  ne  laissa  pas  de  trouver  cette  accusa- 
tion etrange,  non  qu'elle  ne  fut  veritable,  mais  parce  qu'elle  venait  de 
M.  L.  R.  ix.  32 


490  Gatien  de  Courtilz 

lui.  On  n'etait  pas  accoutume  de  voir  un  voleur  en  accuser  un  autre,  a 
moins  que  d'etre  entre  les  mains  de  la  justice,. .  .et,  parmi  tous  les  voleurs, 
il  n'y  en  avait  point  qui  le  fut  en  comparaison  de  lui  (Mazarin).' 

Though  most  of  the  abuse  in  the  Memoires  is  dedicated  to  the 
cardinal,  no  occasion  is  lost  for  a  satiric  portrait.  Witness  the  following 
where  the  Count  de  Nogent1  is  introduced  only  to  be  thus  branded  : 
'  Ce  comte  etait  un  comte  de  nouvelle  impression,  et  qui,  de  fort  peu 
de  chose  qu'il  etait  naturellement,  etait  devenu  extremement  riche.  II 
avait  passe  quelque  temps  a  la  cour  pour  un  bouffon....!!  aimait  le  jeu 
au  dela  de  tout  ce  que  Ton  saurait  dire,  et  meme  il  y  avait  perdu  de 
Fargent....!!  jurait  et  reniait  pour  ainsi  dire,  chreme  et  bapteme,  ce  qui 
etonna  tellement  un  jour  un  des  freres  du  due  de  Luynes  qui  jouait  tres 
gros  jeu  contre  lui,  que  pour  ne  le  pas  entendre  blasphemer  davantage, 
il  lui  remit  plus  de  cinquante  mille  ecus  qu'il  lui  gagnait.  II  lui  dit... 

qu'il  ne  pouvait  se  mettre   en  colere  si  fort  sans  alterer  sa  sante 

Cependant,  ce  grand  blasphemateur  devint  homme  de  bien  sur  la  fin 
de  ses  jours,  dont  les  capucins  ne  se  trouvererit  pas  mal  quelque  fois. 
Comme  il  etait  voisin  d'un  de  leurs  couvents,  quand  il  voyait  un  bon  plat 
sur  sa  table,  il  le  faisait  oter  par  mortification,  sans  y  vouloir  toucher :  il 
le  leur  envoyait  en  meme  temps,  et  leur  faisait  dire  de  le  manger  a  son 
intention.  Sa  femme  et  ses  enfants  qui  en  eussent  bien  mange  eux- 
memes,  et  qui  n'etaient  pas  si  devots  que  lui,  en  enrageaient  bien  souvent, 
mais  il  leur  fallait  prendre  patience,  parce  qu'il  se  faisait  obeir  en  depit 
qu'ils  en  eussent.'  With  such  an  eye  this  loyal  servant  of  the  king 
studied  the  ambitious  nobles  and  upstarts  of  his  time. 

Perhaps  an  undisputed  canon  of  the  writings  of  Courtilz  can  never 
be  established.  Lelong  says  he  left  manuscripts  for  forty  unpublished 
volumes,  and  there  is  a  natural  tendency  to  ascribe  to  him  this  or  that 
anonymous  work  of  the  same  general  type  as  those  believed  to  be  his. 
The  only  sound  method  seems  to  be  to  sift  the  evidence  of  contemporaries, 
and  check  it  by  the  results  of  modern  research.  It  is  dangerous  to  draw 
any  conclusions  from  style.  Courtilz  wrote  rapidly,  probably  very  much 
as  he  spoke,  too  often  sacrificing  clearness  and  even  correctness  to  the 
hack's  appetite  for  copy.  One  might  almost  say  that  any  work  which 
shows  careful  composition  is  to  be  put  on  the  doubtful  list.  The  author's 
one  merit  in  style  is  in  the  racy  and  picturesque  phrases  with  which  he 
sprinkled  his  works.  These  form  part  of  the  adventurer's  vocabulary, 
and  fit  admirably  into  the  texture  of  the  whole.  They  add  realism  to  the 
scenes  in  which  he  deals  with  bluff  soldiers  or  free-spoken  mountebanks, 
1  For  him  and  his  family,  see  Saint-Simon,  Memoires,  xn,  p.  564  (Grands  Ecriv.  ed.). 


BENJAMIN    M.    WOODBBIDGE 


491 


and  barb  his  satire  of  the  great.  He  shows  us  princes  and  ministers  off 
their  guard,  and  then  their  speech  corresponds  to  their  actions;  he 
describes  their  deeds  in  terms  which  give  the  colour  of  probability  to 
the  motives  he  imputes  to  them. 

The  Memoires  of  Rochefort  and  of  d'Artagnan  are  undoubtedly  of 
greater  interest  than  the  other  works  of  Courtilz  as  predecessors  of  the 
picaresque  novel  in  France,  although  the  satiric  observation  of  the 
author  is  nowhere  wanting,  and  all  his  writings  show  a  conscious  effort 
at  rather  sordid  realism.  It  is  interesting  to  remark  that  there  is  no 
trace  of  the  influence  of  contemporary  fiction  in  Courtilz'  early  work. 
Beginning  with  the  romantic  story  of  the  Marquise  de  Fresne  (1701), 
I  find  such  influence  here  and  there.  This  lady's  adventures  seem  to 
owe  something  to  the  pirate  novel  popular  at  the  time1^  many  of  the 
adventures  of  the  marquis  D  *  *  *  might  find  a  place  in  the  Voyage 
en  Espagne  of  the  Countess  d'Aulnoy,  and  finally,  in  the  Memoires  de 
B  *  *,  the  author  has  interpolated,  according  to  the  custom  of  romancers 
of  those  days,  a  fantastic  novelette,  which  has  no  relation  to  the  main 
plot,  but  relates  the  misadventures  of  a  fair  young  Greek.  But  in 
general,  we  may  accept  for  all  the  author's  work  the  bluff  remark  of 
d'Artagnan  that  he  was  no  reader  of  novels.  I  have  tried  to  show  that 
the  source  of  his  inspiration  was  quite  different.  Like  the  modern 
realists,  Courtilz  observed  for  himself.  He  retells  stories  heard  in  camp, 
and  keeps  much  of  the  original  flavour;  he  devoured  satirical  pamphlets, 
gazettes,  memoirs  and  history,  and  gleaned  something  from  them  all. 
A  more  complete  analysis  than  is  possible  here  confirms  this  theory. 

Contemporaries  of  Courtilz  who,  like  Bayle  and  Lenglet,  judged  his 
works  severely,  called  them  novels,  meaning  to  express  their  profound 
contempt  for  this  would-be  historian.  But  the  very  frequency  of  these 
criticisms  shows  the  necessity  of  putting  readers  on  their  guard — so 
convincing  was  his  manner.  Our  author  professed  to  share  their  scorn 
of  romance,  and  often  feigns  to  apologize  for  the  rollicking  adventures 
which  his  heroes  recount  in  the  midst  of  serious  historical  chronicling. 
His  reason  for  publishing  these  manuscripts,  he  would  have  us  believe, 
is  the  light  they  throw  on  certain  obscure  details  of  contemporary  or 
recent  events.  History  there  is  in  his  writings,  and  often  too  much  of 
it,  but  so  distorted  and  so  intermingled  with  cleverly  devised  incident 
of  the  author's  invention,  that  it  is  well  nigh  impossible  to  say  what 
is  fact  and  what  romance.  However  it  may  be,  to  call  these  works 
novels,  in  the  same  sense  as  the  greater  part  of  the  fiction  of  the  time, 

1  See  my  article  in  Mod.  Lang.  PubL,  xxvn,  3. 

32—2 


492  Gatien  de  Courtilz 

would  be  an  entire  misunderstanding  of  their  bearing.  Bayle  himself 
drew  from  them,  witness  the  article  on  Louis  XIII  in  the  Dictionary, 
and  to-day  serious  historians  of  the  age  of  Louis  XIV  declare  that  not 
everything  in  his  writings  is  apocryphal.  The  difficulty  is  still  to  say 
precisely,  what  is  and  what  is  not.  I  have  tried  to  indicate  a  few  of  the 
tableaux  d'epoque  which  may  well  claim  some  interest  in  the  study  of 
manners. 

None  need  now  fear  reproach  in  the  term  novelist.  It  is  significant 
that  those  who  would  plead  for  Courtilz  to-day  call  him  a  romancer. 
He  is  in  some  measure,  say  they,  the  father  of  historical  fiction.  In  the 
foregoing  study,  I  have  tried  to  adumbrate  his  claim  to  another  title, 
perhaps  still  more  honourable.  He  is  important  in  the  history  of  the 
politico-picaresque  novel,  represented  by  the  life  of  Gil  Bias  at  the 
Spanish  court,  as  also  in  that  of  the  realistic  novel.  He  professes  to 
write  contemporary  history,  though  giving  it  a  somewhat  suspicious 
form.  Hence  to  deceive  his  readers — and  he  did  deceive  them — he  must 
keep  close  to  reality.  He  states  boldly  that  the  effort  to  arouse  interest 
in  reality,  as  such,  is  an  entirely  legitimate  one.  In  the  preface  to  the 
Memoires  de  M.  de  la  Fontaine  (1698),  he  writes  :  '  Cette  diversite 
d'incidents  naturels,  et  tels  qu'il  en  arrive  tous  les  jours  a  la  plupart  des 
hommes,  la  brievete  des  recits...les  lumieres  qu'il  [the  supposed  writer 
of  the  Memoires}  donne  sur  la  maniere  dont  les  choses  se  passent  a  la 
Bastille  :  tout  cela  plaira  sans  doute  beaucoup.' 

It  will  be  objected  that  I  am  leaving  out  of  account  the  earlier 
realistic  writers  in  France,  but  the  realism  of  Sorel,  Scarron  and  Furetiere1 
is  vitiated  by  a  conscious  effort  to  ridicule  the  so-called  idyllic  novel  of 
the  time.  The  result  is  often  a  caricature  of  reality  as  well  as  of  the 
sighing  heroes  of  d'Urfe.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Courtilz 
knew  the  works  of  any  of  his  predecessors  in  realistic  fiction,  and  the 
slight  influence  of  the  idyllic  novel  that  can  be  discerned  in  him  is 
entirely  superficial.  Writing  as  he  did  of  men  and  events  more  or  less 
familiar  to  his  readers,  he  kept  perforce  within  the  limits  of  the  probable, 
and  the  more  accurate  his  observation,  the  greater  his  chance  of  success. 
He  was  then  led  through  history  to  realism,  and  the  spirit  of  the 
Fronde,  imprinted  on  his  childhood,  has  given  a  satiric  tinge  to  his 
work  that  brings  him  into  the  line  of  picaresque  fiction. 

BENJAMIN  M.  WOODBKIDGE. 

AUSTIN,  TEXAS,  U.S.A. 

1  On  their  claims  to  realism,  see  an  interesting  essay  by  Eug.  Maron,  Le  Roman  de 
Mceurs  au  dix-septieme  siecle,  in  the  Revue  Independante  for  Feb.   1848. 


NOTES   ON   ROMANIC   SPEECH-HISTORY. 


COHOKTE. 

IT  has  been  supposed  that  cohorte  became  *corte,  but  this  theory 
leaves  Rumanian  curte  and  Sardic  curte  unexplained.  The  development 
was  through  *cuorte  and  * curte.  When  coagulu  changed  to  *cuaglu, 
cohorte  became  *cuorte.  Early  Latin  quoi  made  later  cui  (which  produced 
analogic  huic  beside  normal  hue  <  hoic) :  in  the  same  way  *cuorte  made 
*curte.  From  *curte  are  derived  Italian  corte  and  its  western  equivalents, 
as  well  as  the  Rumanian  and  Sardic  forms  with  u.  The  change  of 
*cuorte  to  *curte  was  earlier  than  the  formation  of  *doro  mentioned 
below. 

Latin  seems  to  have  u  for  uo  in  cur  =  quor,  but  it  is  a  mistake  to 
assume  that  a  long  vowel  underwent  such  a  change  in  cuius  <  quoins. 
The  Latin  word  was  cvuvs,  with  u<uo  as  in  *curte.  The  close  u  of 
Port,  cujo  and  Span,  cuyo  corresponds  to  u  in  fujo  —  huyo<fugio, 
junge  =  une  <  iungit,  punho  =  puno  <  pugnu.  In  such  cases  palatal- 
influence  made  close  u  from  open  u  before  curro  became  corro.  The 
word  cvuvs  was  often  (though  not  always)  spelled  cvivs,  but  this 
abbreviated  form  did  not  represent  a  different  pronunciation.  Similar 
shortenings  are  seen  in  our  eighth,  with  th  for  tth,  and  in  Northampton, 
with  th  for  thh :  they  prove  nothing  about  speech. 

Close  6  did  not  undergo  in  late  Latin  or  early  Romanic  a  change 
like  that  of  short  o  in  *cuorte  >  *  curte :  Mirandese  cumo  and  Rumanian 
cum  <  quomodo  are  re-stressed  stressless  forms,  with  normal  stressless 
developments  of  u  from  o.  Neither  did  it  develop  like  open  u  before 
early  palatals  :  ciconia  makes  Port,  cegonha,  Span.  *cegonna>*cegoina> 
ciguena.  Early  X  made  u  close  in  Span,  mucho  =  Port,  muito  <  multu, 
while  later  X  had  no  effect  on  o  in  Span,  troja  =  Port.  trolha<trulleal. 

1  Special  symbols:  0:=English  th  in  thin,  5  =  English  th  in  then,  X  =  Portuguese  Ih, 
n  =  Spanish  n,  y  =  English  final  ng. 


494  Notes  on  Romanic  Speech- History 

Duo. 

In  spoken  Latin  analogic  *dui  replaced  duo.  Duoru  and  duobus 
became  *doro,  *dobos,  with  a  change  of  stressless  u  to  o  earlier  than 
the  formation  of  gold  from  gula.  Under  the  influence  of  these  con- 
tracted forms,  open  u  was  partially  replaced  by  close  o  in  *dui-*doi, 
duos-*doos,  duae-*doe,  duas-*doas,  dua-*doa.  Derivatives  of  the  M-forms 
have  u  in  Italian,  Catalan,  Spanish  and  Portuguese,  parallel  with  %<% 
in  the  derivatives  of  uia\  and  in  Sardic,  where  u<u  is  normal.  In 
France  a  corresponding  vowel  has  undergone  the  usual  change  to  a 
sound  like  German  close  u. 

In  Hispanic  the  influence  of  duoru  >  *doro  and  duobus  >  *dobos 
produced  *doos  without  affecting  duas,  in  which  the  stress  differed  from 
that  of  *doaro  and  *doabos.  We  can  explain  Span,  dues  as  an  altera- 
tion of  *duos  <  duas.  The  assimilative  change  of  ua  to  uo  agrees 
with  mie  =  Italian  mia ;  the  further  change  to  ue  could  have  accom- 
panied ue  <  uo  <  o.  I  do  not  know  how  dues  was  stressed,  but  the  a  of 
cuatro  and  ordinary  uo  >  ue  would  require  ua  >  uo.  Menendez  Pidal 
assumes  that  o>uo  became  ue1,  but  such  a  vowel-development  cannot 
reasonably  be  admitted  in  a  conservative  language  like  Spanish,  which 
lacks  parallels  for  French  mer  <  mare,  soir  <  seru,  VO3U  <  uotu.  The  early 
Spanish  development  was  presumably  o>6o2>uo:  in  some  regions  uo 
changed  to  uo,  in  others  to  ue  and  ue.  The  formation  of  ue  from  uo 
was  essentially  the  same  as  e . .  o  <  o . .  o  in  hermoso  <  formosu. 

Early  French  and  Provencial  have  dui  <  *dui  parallel  with  cui  <  cui. 
From  i  <  e  in  fis  and  u  <  o  in  conui  =  conucs,  it  might  be  thought  that 
*doi  (with  close  o)  could  have  made  dui  also.  But  this  is  improbable, 
for  in  France  the  derivatives  of  auguriu  and  dormitoriu  do  not  rime. 
Early  contact  with  a  palatal  made  open  u  close,  but  did  not  modify 
close  o  :  if  we  find  ponh  beside  punk  <  pugnu  in  the  south,  it  is  because 
the  chronologic  relation  of  o  <  u  and  nn  <  yn  was  not  the  same  in  all 
regions.  In  tuit  <  *tuiti  <  *totti  (an  emphatic  variant  of  toti  like  English 
look  kout !  for  look  out),  the  alteration  of  o  was  earlier  than  the  displace- 
ment of  i.  Thus  doi  <  *doi  can  be  considered  normal. 

Early  French  doues  does  not  represent  Latin  duas,  in  spite  of  the 
apparent  agreement  Avith  veie :  doues  corresponds  to  Prov.  doas  <  *doas, 
and  veie  is  an  analogic  formation.  Envie  <  inmat  and  dialectal  vie  <  ma 

1  Menendez  Pidal,  Gram.  hist,  espanola,  Madrid,  1905,  §  13. 

2  With  the  first  o  a  little  closer  than  the  second. 

3  Erdmannsdorfifer,  Eeimworterbuch  der  Trobadors,  Berlin,  1897,  p.  34. 


EDWIN    H.    TUTTLE  495 

are  normal,  agreeing  with  the  general  Romanic  treatment  of  uia.  The 
influence  of  envie  changed  enveer  to  env'ier.  The  form  enveier,  which 
produced  the  modern  envoy er,  was  a  compromise  between  enveer  and 
env'ier.  The  development  of  enveier  changed  envie  to  enveie,  veage  to 
veiage,  and  these  changes  produced  veie  for  historic  vie.  This  last 
development  was  perhaps  helped  by  the  change  of  vide  to  vie,  which  in 
the  written  language  was  nearly  contemporary  with  the  beginning  of 
the  literary  period,  and  in  popular  speech  may  have  been  much  earlier. 

In  Meyer-Ltibke's  Morphologie  romane,  §  68,  Rumanian  doi  is  given 
as  a  derivative  of  *dui.  This  seems  misleading,  for  Latin  stressed  it- 
does  not  generally  correspond  to  o  in  Rumanian  as  it  does  in  western 
Romanic,  and  furthermore  *dui  developed  close  u  in  the  west.  Rumanian 
has  lost  uia,  but  it  has  zi  =  Italian  dl,  notwithstanding  the  ordinary 
change  of  £  to  e  before  a  consonant  (negru  <  nigru).  Thus  there  are 
two  or  three  reasons  why  *dui  should  have  made  *dui ;  doi  comes  from 
Latin  *doi.  Rumanian  keeps  ui  in  cui,  fui,  lui,  and  cuib  <  *cubiu  :  the 
idea  that  ui  became  oi  or  o,  as  a  regular  development1,  is  untenable,  the 
supposed  evidence  being  highly  untrustworthy.  A  form  *autumnia 
would  have  made  *tumie,  parallel  with  vie  <  uinea  and  miel  <  *amnelo  < 
agnellu.  Coif  is  not  derived  from  *cufea,  nor  from  *cuffia,  which  would 
do  for  some  of  the  Gallo- Roman  forms ;  a  basis  *  coffin,  with  the  plural 
*coffia,  would  explain  coif,  Sardic  iscoffia,  Span,  cofia  and  Port,  coif  a. 
Pleoapd  comes  from  palpebra  through  *palbrepa  and  *pleveapa2,  not 
from  imaginary  *pluppea.  Perhaps  fost  represents  *fuistu,  but  the 
vowel-development  was  certainly  not  ui  >  oi  >  o,  for  open  i  became  e 
before  a  consonant  in  Rumanian.  From  *fuistu  would  have  come 
*foesto,  with  normal  stressless  o  <  us.  The  e  of  *foesto  would  have  made 
a,  parallel  with  noud  <  none,  nuar  <  nubilu,  par  <  piru ;  and  the  a  of 
*foasto  could  have  become  o,  in  accordance  with  June  <  iuuencu  (beside 
vint  <  uentu),  luom  =  luam*,  nuor  —  niiar,  giving  modern  fost(u). 

Tiktin  mentions  the  following  words  with  u  apparently  corresponding 
to  Rumanian  o  or  oa :  excutio,  russeus,  muria,  pluuia,  *pluuat,  rubeus, 
autumna,  cubitu5.  He  also  says  that  roseus,  rather  than  russeus,  may 
be  the  origin  of  the  word  for  '  red ' :  this  is  undoubtedly  the  correct 
explanation.  He  and  other  writers  seem  to  have  overlooked  Latin 
robeus,  which  is  the  source  of  roib.  Latin  quatere  replaced  -cuter e  in 

1  Zeitschriftfilr  ronianische  Philologie,  xxvm,  688. 

2  Romanic  Review,  i,  432. 

3  Id.,  i,  431. 

4  Tiktin,  Rumanisches  Elementarbuch,  Heidelberg,  1905,  §  34. 

5  Tiktin,  I.e.,  §  30. 


496  Notes  on  Romanic  Speech- History 

compounds,  and  by  assimilation  stressless  ua  became  uo  >  o  (compare 
quattuor  >  quattor),  with  a  different  development  from  that  of  half- 
stressed  ua  in  quadragesima,  quadraginta,  quattuordeci.  In  forms 
corresponding  to  excutiebat,  excutiendo,  the  change  of  ua  to  open  o  (or 
at  least  to  uo}  was  earlier  than  the  separation  of  Rumanian  from  Italian, 
so  that  scoate  (<  *scote)  and  scos,  with  analogic  extension  of  weak  o  to 
strong  forms,  have  a  radical  vowel  corresponding  to  Latin  o.  It  may  be 
well  to  add  that  final  ua,  as  in  aqua,  did  not  undergo  in  late  Latin  or 
early  Romanic  a  change  to  o  (although  it  has  done  so  in  modern  Catalan 
and  Portuguese  dialects),  for  the  reason  that  the  a  belonged  to  a  definite 
category,  with  final  a  in  hundreds  of  words  where  there  was  no  possi- 
bility of  such  a  change. 

The  u  of  muria  became  o  in  Latin,  perhaps  under  the  influence  of 
mordere:  moare  is  the  normal  derivative  of  *moria.  The  stem  plu- 
had  a  Latin  variant  plou-,  and  from  this  the  vowel  o  was  transferred  to 
the  noun  '  rain,'  the  form  proia  being  found  in  one  of  the  most  conser- 
vative Sardic  dialects.  The  Rumanian  verb  does  not  imply  a  Latin 
*pluuare  as  Tiktin  assumes ;  ploud  has  normal  a  <  e  <  i  in  accord  with 
noua  <  none,  and  its  a  produced  the  corresponding  infinitive  plod.  The 
o  that  made  oa  in  toamna,  where  u  would  be  expected,  was  due  to  some 
external  influence.  It  seems  very  probable  that  the  displacement  of 
stress  in  popbr,  for  *pbpur  <  *poporo  <  populu,  was  caused  by  the 
synonym  norbd.  In  the  same  way  *tumnd  may  have  been  influenced 
by  some  foreign  word.  '  Autumn  '  is  podzim  ('  fore-winter ')  in  Bohemian, 
and  similar  compounds  containing  o  are  found  in  southern  Slavonic,  but 
it  seems  more  likely  that  *tomnd  owed  its  o  to  Slavonic  doba  '  time.' 
In  Serbian,  doba  is  a  general  word  for  '  time '  or  '  season.'  It  is  remark- 
able that  Albanian  has  mot1  meaning  '  time '  and  '  year ' :  could  this 
have  had  any  influence  on  the  Rumanian  word  ?  Still  another  possi- 
bility is  that  the  o  of  *tomna  came  from  the  o  of  *  rain.'  In  Walloon, 
'  winter '  and  '  snow '  are  expressed  by  ivier  <  hibernu2,  and  similarly 
an  earlier  form  of  ploaie  might  have  changed  *tumna  to  *tomna  in 
a  region  where  autumn  was  the  rainy  season.  Bulgaria  has  a  rainy 
autumn. 

Rumanian  has  ib  and  nor  as  variants  of  iuo  =  iud  <  ibi  ubis,  ni^or 
=  nuar  <  nubilu :  ue  >  ud  and  ud  >  uo  were  simple  progressive  assimi- 
lations, while  ud>o  indicates  a  double  change,  progressive  and  regressive, 

1  Pekmezi,  Grammatik  der  albanesischen  Sprache,  Wien,  1908,  p.  261. 

2  Thomas,  Nouveaux  essais  de  philologiefran$aise,  Paris,  1904,  p.  285. 

3  Not  merely  ubi,  as  assumed  by  Tiktin,  I.e.,  §§  30,  157. 


EDWIN    H.    TUTTLE  497 

like  the  formation  of  open  o  from  oa  in  Prov.  cb<coa<coda,  dbs<doas< 
*doas,  pro  <proa  <prora.  We  may  assume  o<ud  for  cot  <  cubitu,  and 
also  for  dialectal  dzone  =  June  <  iuuene.  In  a  few  words,  such  as  acblo 
(beside  acolb)  <  *accu  illoc,  fiorl  <  *fieori  <  *fieuri  <  f fibres,  popbr  < 
populu,  stressed  o  corresponds  to  earlier  u  because  of  a  stress-change 
before  the  development  of  stressless  u  from  o.  But  there  seems  to  be 
no  evidence  that  any  Rumanian  stressed  o  can  properly  be  said  to 
represent  a  Latin  stressed  u.  We  must  consider  doi  a  derivative  of 
Latin  *doi — unless  we  prefer  the  basis  *doos,  in  accord  with  voi  <  uos. 
Doud  <  *dod  <  doad  may  represent  both  *doe  and  *doa :  compare 
noud  <  noad  <  none  and  noud  <  noad  <  noua.  The  curious  double  inflec- 
tion of  the  genitive  aminduror,  with  -duror  for  *-dor  <  *doro,  has 
parallels  in  early  Catalan  dosos  =  dos  <  *doos,  English  children  beside 
dialectal  childer  <  cildru,  German  gegessen  for  older  gessen. 


FORU. 

Catalan  is  sometimes  called  a  Hispanic  language,  although  it  is  not 
such  fundamentally.  It  has  been  modified  by  Spanish,  but  linguistically 
it  belongs  with  the  Gallo-Roman  dialects.  In  Catalan,  as  in  many 
forms  of  Provencial,  open  e  and  open  o  underwent  breaking  before 
palatals.  The  diphthongs  ie  and  uo  were  probably  stressed  w,  tio,  for 
they  have  become  the  simple  vowels  i  and  u.  This  contraction  has 
parallels  in  southern  France :  Cat.  mitja  =  Gascon  mijd1  <  media,  Cat. 
ull  =  Gascon  ulh2  <  oculu.  From  developments  like  corretja  <  corrigia, 
genoll<  *genudu,  it  is  plain  that  the  vowels  of  mitj  and  ull  must  have 
been  indirect  formations.  A  trace  of  uo  is  to  be  seen  in  fur,  a  variant 
of  for  <  foru.  Early  Spanish  has  fuoro  <  foru,  and  fur  is  the  Catalan 
derivative  of  fuoro,  with  u  <  tio  as  in  ull  <  *uo\\o. 

NUCE. 

French  noiz  >  nois  (now  commonly  mis-spelled  with  a?),  Italian  noce, 
Rumanian  nuc  (tree)  and  nucd  show  normal  treatments  of  Latin  u.  But 
open  o,  found  in  Prov.  noze,  Cat.  nou,  Port,  noz,  and  implied  by  Span. 
nuez,  cannot  have  come  directly  from  u.  The  u  of  Cat.  nou,  representing 
v  <  8  <  dz,  is  however  normal,  agreeing  with  deu  <  dece,  pau  <  pace.  In 

1  Millardet,  Etudes  de  dialectologie  landaise,  Toulouse,  1910,  p.  201.     I  write  8  for 
a  sound  like  French  e  in  dedans,  corresponding  to  the  stressless  o  of  ordinary  Provencial. 

2  Millardet,  I.e.,  p.  207. 


498  Notes  on  Romanic  Speech- History 

Spanish,  ts  has  become  0,  and  likewise  Catalan  changed  dz  to  8.  The 
further  development  of  8  to  v  has  parallels  in  caure  <  cadere,  grau  < 
gradu,  seu<  sede,  veu<  uidet. 

The  word  *nodze,  with  open  o,  was  imported  from  Sardinia.  In  most 
portions  of  the  island  the  vowel-system  is  extremely  primitive,  with 
stressed  i  <  I  and  u  <  u.  But  on  the  north  coast  there  is  an  equally 
remarkable  lack  of  conservatism :  in  the  dialect  of  Sassari,  close  o 
corresponds  to  the  open  o  (or  uo)  of  Tuscan,  and  open  o  to  the  stressed 
close  o  of  Tuscan1.  This  peculiar  interchange  shows  that  open  o  became 
uo ;  afterwards  uo  contracted  to  a  simple  vowel.  When  the  first  portion 
of  uo  became  gradually  more  open,  there  was  danger  of  confusion  with  close 
o :  this  was  avoided  by  changing  close  o  to  open  o.  In  accordance  with 
the  development  of  o,  Sassarese  commu  <  qnomodo  has  close  o,  Latin  uo 
being  treated  like  uo  <  o,  just  as  in  the  equivalent  Span,  cuemo  beside 
stressless  como.  The  differing  treatments  of  the  sounds  written  u,  in 
the  words  quomodo  and  duoru,  arose  from  the  fact  that  the  hiatus-it  of 
the  latter  was  open  and  syllabic,  while  the  u  of  the  group  qu  was  very 
close  and  not  syllabic. 

Insular  *nodze,  which  has  become  nodzi  in  the  modern  dialect  of 
Sassari2,  was  taken  to  the  mainland  early  enough  for  the  open  o  to 
become  uo  in  Spanish.  Provencial  noze  might  be  explained  as  a  re-made 
form  based  on  a  plural  ending  in  es,  like  nize  beside  nis  <  nidu.  But  it 
seems  more  likely  that  *nodze  was  introduced  after  *dedze  <  dece  had 
lost  its  final  e.  Evidence  of  *nodze  in  France  is  preserved  mainly  in 
the  southeast,  but  noze  is  also  found  on  the  eastern  edge  of  the  Gascon 
region  (near  Toulouse),  and  there  is  a  corresponding  nots  on  the  Gascon 
coast.  In  Catalan  the  o  of  nou  has  been  extended  to  noga :  this  form 
and  Rumanian  nuca  seem  to  imply  an  occasional  change  of  the  final 
vowel  in  Latin,  on  the  analogy  of  models  like  piru  and  pira. 

QUATTUOKDECI. 

A  development  of  nti  to  u,  in  accord  with  *cuorte  >  *  curie,  is  implied 
by  the  stressed  vowels  of  Ital.  quattordici,  Span,  catorce,  Port,  catorze. 
A  different  basis  *quattordeci,  with  open  o,  is  needed  for  French  quatorze, 
Prov.  catordze,  Sardic  battbrdighi.  This  basis  was  perhaps  formed  under 
the  influence  of  quattor  <  quattuor.  Sardic  has  bdttor  beside  curie  < 
*cuorte,  Ipgu  <  locu,  otto  <  octo  ;  apparently  stressless  uo  became  o  even 

1  Archivio  glottologico  italiano,  xiv,  133. 

2  Id.,  xiv,  137. 


EDWIN   H.    TUTTLE  499 

where  it  did  not  normally  become  o  otherwise.  A  nearly  parallel 
assimilation  is  seen  in  the  ending  of  battbrdighi :  here  the  last  vowel 
was  kept  and  the  preceding  e  was  changed  to  i.  It  is  also  possible  that 
the  second  u  of  quattuor  became  close  o,  remained  distinct  from  the 
following  open  o  and  afterward  changed  to  close  u  (which  may  be 
considered  w\  and  that  the  formation  of  quattor  and  the  shortening  of 
'  14 '  were  due  to  a  dissimilative  change  of  kw — tw  to  kw — t. 

EDWIN  H.  TUTTLE. 

NEW  HAVEN,  CONN. 


SOREN    KIERKEGAARD. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  fact  that  during  the  last  quarter  of  a  century, 
we  have  devoted  considerable  attention  to  the  literatures  of  the  North, 
the  thinker  and  man  of  letters  whose  name  stands  at  the  head  of  the 
present  article  is  but  little  known  to  the  English-speaking  world.  The 
Norwegians,  Ibsen  and  Bjornson,  have  exerted  a  very  real  power  on  our 
intellectual  life,  and  for  Bjornson  we  have  cherished  even  a  kind  of 
affection.  But  Kierkegaard,  the  writer  who  holds  the  indispensable  key 
to  the  intellectual  life  of  Scandinavia,  to  whom  Denmark  in  particular 
looks  up  as  her  most  original  man  of  genius  in  the  nineteenth  century, 
we  have  wholly  overlooked.  There  is  little  excuse  for  ignoring  him 
on  the  part  of  those  who  are  versed  in  the  northern  tongues ;  for  he  at 
present  looms  very  large  on  the  literary  and  philosophical .  horizon  in 
Scandinavia;  and  there  are  several  excellent  books  on  his  life  and  work, 
both  in  Danish  and  Swedish1.  Within  recent  years,  moreover,  the 
Danes  have  produced  a  monumental  edition  of  Kierkegaard's  complete 
works2,  which  is  at  present  being  followed  up  by  the  publication  of 
manuscript  materials3  supplemental  to  the  Efterladte  Papirer,  edited 
by  H.  P.  Barfod  and  H.  Gottsched  in  seven,  or  rather  eight,  volumes 
between  1869  and  1881.  But  to  become  acquainted  with  Kierkegaard 
one  no  longer  needs  to  read  Danish;  his  works  are  now  virtually 
all  to  be  had  in  German  and  in  an  edition  which  is  a  delight  to 
the  eye4;  and  the  literature  on  Kierkegaard  both  in  German  and 

1  The  two  best  Danish  books  on  Kierkegaard,  Georg  Brandes'  Soren  Kierkegaard:  en 
kritisk   Fremstilling   i    Grundrids,   Copenhagen,    1877   (also    Samlede   Skrifter,   ii,    1899, 
pp.  249  if.),  and  H.  Holding's  Soren  Kierkegaard  som  Philosoph,  Copenhagen,  1892,  are 
both  to  be  obtained  in  German  translation,  Leipzig,  1879,  and  Stuttgart,  1896,  respectively. 
Cp.  further  C.  Koch,  Soren  Kierkegaard :  tre  Foredrag,  Copenhagen,  1898 ;  P.  A.  Eosenberg, 
Soren  Kierkegaard :  Hans  liv,  ham  personlighed  og  hans  forf after skab,  Copenhagen,  1898, 
and  C.  Jensen,  S.  Kierkegaards  religiose  Udvikling,  Aa,rhus,  1898;  in  Swedish,  W.  Eudin, 
Soren  Kierkegaards  person  och  f'orfattarskap,  i,  Stockholm,  1880. 

2  Soren  Kierkegaards  Samlede  Vcsrker.     Udgivne  af  A.  B.  Drachmann,  J.  L.  Heiberg 
og  H.  O.  Lange.     14  vols.     Copenhagen,  1901-6. 

3  Soren  Kierkegaards  Papirer.      Udgivne  af  P.'  A.  Heiberg  og  V.  Kuhr.     Vols.  i — v, 
Copenhagen,  1909-13. 

4  Soren  Kierkegaards  Gesammelte  Werke.    Unverkiirzt  herausgegeben  von  H.  Gottsched 
und  Christoph  Schrempf.     12  vols.     Jena,  1909  ff.     (Two  volumes  have  still  to  appear.) 
There  is  also  an  introductory  volume  to  this  edition  by  0.  P.  Monrad,  Soren  Kierkegaard, 
sein  Leben  und  seine  Werke,  Jena,  1909. 


J.    G.    ROBERTSON  501 

French  is  growing  rapidly.  But  all  this  literature,  with  the  exception 
of  Dr  Brandes'  brilliant  monograph,  deals  mainly  with  Kierkegaard  as  a 
philosopher  and  a  theologian ;  in  the  present  paper  I  propose  to  restrict 
myself  to  his  claims  as  a  man  of  letters. 

Soren  Aabye  Kierkegaard  was  born  in  Copenhagen  on  May  5,  1813. 
He  came  of  Jutish  peasant  stock,  his  father,  Michael  Pedersen  Kierke- 
gaard, having,  as  a  boy,  herded  sheep  on  the  Jutland  moors ;  and  these 
solitudes  left  an  indelible  stamp  of  melancholy  on  him,  which  he 
transmitted  to  his  son.  At  the  age  of  twelve,  however,  Michael  Kierke- 
gaard made  his  way  to  Copenhagen,  and  by  shrewd  common-sense  and 
business  ability,  worked  his  way  up  to  affluence.  He  became  a  hosier, 
and  gradually  extended  his  shop  until  it  became  a  kind  of  general 
warehouse;  before  Soren  was  born  he  was  able  to  retire  from  business 
altogether.  Of  Kierkegaard's  mother  there  is  less,  and  indeed,  nothing 
to  say.  She  was  his  father's  second  wife,  and  had  been  previously  his 
servant.  She  lived  until  Soren  was  twenty-one,  but  seems  to  have 
meant  nothing  for  his  development ;  at  least,  he  never  mentions  her. 

Soren  Kierkegaard  was  the  seventh  and  youngest  child  of  his 
parents,  who,  at  his  birth,  were  fifty-seven  and  forty-five ;  he  was  born 
old  and  never  knew  what  it  was  to  be  young.  Unfortunately  the 
conditions  under  which  he  was  brought  up  did  nothing  to  counteract 
the  disadvantages  of  his  birth.  Michael  Kierkegaard  was  something 
of  a  tyrant,  and  ruled  his  household  with  a  rod  of  iron.  In  spite  of 
increasing  wealth  he  permitted  no  relaxation  of  the  austere  sim- 
plicity of  earlier  days;  and  he  himself  continued  to  dress  in  an  old- 
fashioned  style  which  brought  down  on  him  the  ridicule  of  the  outside 
world.  There  was,  no  doubt,  a  strong  blend  of  eccentricity  in  this 
respectable  tradesman,  and  his  children  suffered  under  it.  Worst  of  all 
for  the  growing  boy  was  the  depressing  religious  atmosphere  of  the 
household,  for  the  father's  gloomy  Lutheranism  led  to  a  complete 
abnegation  of  the  brighter  side  of  life.  And  yet,  beneath  his  repellent 
exterior  there  lay  a  rich  fund  of  poetic  imagination.  This  imagination, 
cut  off  from  every  natural  outlet,  turned,  as  it  were,  upon  itself,  and 
created  an  unhealthy,  hot-house  atmosphere,  which  could  not  but  be 
injurious  to  a  child  like  Soren  who  had  inherited  so  much  of  his  father's 
unbalanced  temperament.  Soren  tells  us,  for  instance,  how,  instead  of 
taking  him  for  a  real  excursion  into  the  country,  his  father  would  invite 
him  to  an  imaginary  walk.  He  would  then  pace  up  and  down  the  room, 
the  boy  at  his  side,  describing  in  minute  detail  the  people  they  pretended 
to  see,  the  sights  and  sounds  they  would  have,  met  by  the  way ;  and  in 


502  Soren  Kierkegaard 

the  end,  the  imaginary  excursion  was  more  entertaining  than  any  real 
one  could  have  been1! 

Soren's  extraordinarily  vivid  imagination  was  thus  a  heritage  from 
his  father ;  so,  too,  was  his  propensity  for  dialectic  fencing.  That  love  of 
argument  for  argument's  sake,  which  is  responsible  for  much  in  his 
published  writings,  was  strongly  marked  in  the  elder  Kierkegaard  and 
made  him  an  extremely  difficult  man  to  get  on  with.  Soren  had  also  in 
common  with  his  father  a  tendency  to  brood  morbidly  over  religious 
questions;  a  tendency  which  threw  a-  shadow  over  his  boyhood  and 
became  a  sinister  power  in  his  life  as  he  grew  older.  In  his  book 
Stadier  paa  Livets  Vej  he  says:  'A  son  is,  as  it  were,  a  mirror  in  which 
a  father  sees  himself  reflected;  and  a  father  is  for  a  son  a  kind  of  mirror 
in  which  he  sees  how  he  himself  will  once  be.  But  the  father  and  son 
of  whom  we  speak  seldom  regarded  each  other  in  this  way;  for  their 
daily  life  only  displayed  the  cheerfulness  of  a  lively  intercourse.  It 
would,  however,  happen  at  times  that  the  father,  with  a  troubled  look 
in  his  face  would  stand  in  front  of  his  son  and  say:  "Poor  child,  thou 
livest  in  silent  despair2!'" 

Bad  as  Kierkegaard's  home  was  as  the  preparation  of  a  boy  of  his 
character  and  disposition  for  the  world,  school  was  no  better.  He  was 
sickly  and  could  not  play  games  like  other  boys;  and  they  jeered 
mercilessly  at  the  coarse  peasant's  clothes  in  which  he  was  sent  to  school. 
Mentally  he  was  as  unable  to  cope  with  his  surroundings  as  he  was 
physically;  and  his  school  experiences  were  in  this  respect  but  a  fore- 
shadowing of  what  was  to  befall  him  in  later  life.  He  was  one  of  those 
shy,  shrinking  children  who  make  enemies  without  knowing  it;  he  found 
himself  at  war  with  his  surroundings  without  desiring  it.  And  in  self- 
defence  he  had  often  to  have  recourse  to  deceit  and  lying;  if  he 
retaliated  openly,  his  sharp  irony,  which  was  his  only  weapon,  made 
things  worse  than  before.  Even  a  conscious  self-deception  was  part  of 
the  armour  with  which  he  protected  his  own  weakness  and  embarrassment. 
Here  lay,  perhaps,  the  origin  of  that  extraordinary  hide-and-seek  which 
he  plays  with  his  own  personality  all  through  his  writings.  Worst  of  all. 
the  harsh  discipline  of  home  and  school  engendered  in  Kierkegaard  a 
cringing,  cowardly  attitude  towards  his  fellows,  a  flunkeyism  which 
warped  his  whole  life.  But  it  also  fostered  a  kind  of  inner  life  within  his 
life  of  a  very  different  kind.  Although  to  the  world  he  appeared  as  the 

1  Af  Soren  Kierkegaards  Efterladte  Papirer,  1844-45,  Copenhagen,  1872,  pp.  81  f.     Cp. 
Brandes,  op.  cit.,  p.  256. 

2  Stadier  paa  Livets  Vej:  Skyldig?—ikke-Skyldig?  (Jan.  5)  (Samlede  Vcerker,  vi),  p.  189; 
German  translation,  iv,  p.  177. 


J.    G.    ROBERTSON  503 

most  crushed  of  crushed  worms,  Kierkegaard  was  in  his  own  heart  and 
imagination  the  freest  and  most  daringly  original  of  mortals ;  beneath 
his  humble  bearing  slumbered  an  almost  overweening  confidence  in  his 
own  powers  and  genius.  '  Far  back  in  my  memory/  he  says,  '  there  is 
the  thought  that  in  every  generation  there  are  two  or  three  who  are 
sacrificed  for  others,  who  are  employed  to  discover  amidst  terrible  suffer- 
ing truths  whereby  the  others  benefit;  and  heavy  of  heart,  I  found 
the  understanding  of  myself  in  the  fact  that  I  had  been  chosen  for  this 
purpose1/  Perhaps  Kierkegaard  was  right  in  his  proud  conviction;  but, 
whether  or  no,  the  terrible  brand  of  anomaly  and  exception  lay  on  him 
from  the  beginning ;  and  an  uncomfortable,  unhappy  exception  of  genius 
he  remained  to  the  last. 

In  spite  of  his  parsimony,  Kierkegaard's  father  was  anxious  to  give 
his  youngest  son  the  best  education  he  could ;  accordingly,  at  the  age  of 
seventeen  Soren  became  a  student  of  the  University  of  Copenhagen.  It 
was  unfortunate,  considering  the  fateful  shadow  the  harsh  pietism  of  his 
home  had  thrown  on  his  life,  that  Soren  should  have  turned  to 
philosophy  and  theology  at  the  University;  but  it  could  hardly  have 
been  otherwise.  These  studies  had,  at  least,  the  advantage  that  they 
plunged  him  at  once  into  the  all-absorbing  interest  of  his  subsequent 
life,  his  conflict  with  Hegel.  Theology  in  Denmark — as  in  Germany 
itself — in  the  thirties  of  last  century  was  dominated  by  Hegelian  specu- 
lation ;  and  Kierkegaard's  originality  as  a  thinker  first  showed  itself  in 
his  antagonism  to  the  Hegelian  standpoint  in  the  religious  controversies 
of  the  time. 

Meanwhile  a  terrible  catastrophe  took  place  in  Kierkegaard's  life 
when  he  reached  his  twenty-fifth  year.  What  the  catastrophe  was  he 
never  explicitly  tells  us.  'Then  it  was/  he  says,  'that  the  great  earthquake 
took  place,  the  terrible  revolution,  which  suddenly  compelled  me  to 
seek  a  new,  unimpeachable  interpretation  of  all  phenomena.  I  had  a 
presentiment  that  my  father's  high  age  was  not  a  divine  blessing,  but 
rather  a  curse  ...  A  guilt  must  rest  on  the  whole  family,  a  divine  punish- 
ment be  impending2.'  The  terrible  revelation  seems  to  have  consisted 
only  in  the  following.  As  a  boy  of  twelve,  his  father,  Half-famished  and 
parched  on  his  lonely  moors,  had  solemnly  ascended  a  hill  and  cursed 
God.  This  happened  in  1768,  and  the  awful  sin  he  had  committed  still 
lay  with  crushing  weight  on  Michael  Kierkegaard,  when  he  was  an  old 

1  Synspunktet  for  min  Forfattervirksomhed  (Samlede  Vcerker,  xiii,  p.  566,  quoted  by 
H.  Hoffding,  Soren  Kierkegaard  som  Philosoph,  Copenhagen,  1892,  p.  40). 

2  Af  Soren  Kierkegaards  Efterladte  Papirer,  1833-43,  Copenhagen,  1869,  p.  4. 


504  Soren  Kierkegaard 

man  of  eighty-two1.  Incredible  as  this  may  seem,  it  was  still  more  in- 
credible that  this  old  story  should  have  made  so  deep  an  impression  on 
young  Kierkegaard,  fancy-ridden  and  prone  to  melancholy  and  despair 
as  he  was.  One  cannot  help  thinking  that  he  regarded  it  rather  as  a 
symbol  of  the  causes  which  lay  behind  other  evils,  physical  as  well  as 
mental,  which  he  had  inherited ;  it  was  a  kind  of  religious  embodiment 
of  the  curse  of  heredity  under  which  he  suffered.  The  catastrophe  that 
broke  over  him  was,  in  reality,  the  conviction  that  he  was  the  victim  of 
a  curse,  from  the  consequences  of  which  it  was  vain  to  try  to  flee. 
Shortly  after  he  had  made  this  fateful  discovery  his  father  died,  and  he 
was  free  to  face  life  on  his  own  responsibility ;  or  rather,  he  was  less 
free  than  ever,  for  his  father  exerted  a  greater  power  over  him  dead  than 
alive.  A  relentless,  fatalistic  melancholy  settled  down  on  him  and 
stifled  all  healthy  spiritual  growth. 

Left  to  himself,  Kierkegaard  seems  to  have  drifted  naturally  into  the 
career  of  a  writer.  It  was  not  to  his  advantage  that  he  had  means 
enough  to  make  a  '  bread-and-butter '  occupation  unnecessary ;  for  it 
brought  with  it  a  certain  lack  of  concentration,  an  inability  to  apply 
himself  steadily  to  such  work  as  he  undertook.  He  himself  says  that 
he  took  to  writing  books  in  order  to  make  good  the  sins  of  his  youth. 
Possibly  amongst  these  sins  he  counted  doubts  of  the  validity  of 
Christianity,  which  had  begun  to  assail  him,  and  which,  like  his  father's 
-sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost,'  had  assumed  exaggerated  proportions ;  but 
there  is  little  doubt  that  'the  thorn  in  the  flesh'  ('Pcelen  i  Kjodet') 
which  formed  his  martyrdom,  and  of  which  we  hear  so  much  from  his 
diaries,  had  a  physical  as  well  as  a  spiritual  origin2.  However  that  may 
be,  a  writer  of  books  he  became,  and  so  industrious  was  he  that  in  the 
fifteen  years  of  his  literary  life,  he  turned  out  something  like  thirty 
volumes,  besides  leaving  behind  him  an  enormous  mass  of  manuscript 
material. 

In  1838  he  published  Afen  endnu  Levendes  Papirer  (From  the  Papers 
of  One  still  Living*),  which  in  the  fantastic  humour  of  its  title  reminds 
one  of  Jean  Paul.  It  is  nominally  a  criticism  of  Hans  Christian  Ander- 
sen's novel,  Kun  en  Spillemand  (1837),  and,  at  the  best,  rather  indifferent 
criticism,  being  strongly  coloured  by  Hegelian  subtleties  of  thought  and 
phraseology.  But  it  touches  on  one  question  which  had  a  subjective 
interest  for  Kierkegaard,  namely,  whether  it  is  better,  as  Andersen  held, 

1  H.  Hoffding,  op.  cit.,  pp.  28  ff. 

2  Cp.  P.  A.  Kosenberg,  Soren  Kierkegaard,  Copenhagen,  1898,  pp.  13  ff. 

3  Samlede  Varker,  xiii,  pp.  41  ff. 


J.    G.    ROBERTSON  505 

for  the  man  of  genius  to  be  nurtured  and  pampered,  or,  as  Kierkegaard 
preferred  to  think,  to  be  schooled  by  adversity,  a  fate  which  he  felt 
had  been  his  own.  Much  more  important  was  his  thesis  for  the  degree 
of  master,  Om  Begrebet  Ironi  (On  the  Idea  of  Irony 1),  which  he  published 
in  1841.  It  is  worth  while  looking  into  this  treatise,  for  it  adumbrates 
the  chief  idea  of  Kierkegaard's  master-work,  Enten — Eller,  and  helps 
to  elucidate  his  relations  to  the  German  Romantic  movement.  Just 
as  his  first  essay  turned  round  a  book  of  Andersen's,  so  the  present 
treatise  resolves  itself,  in  its  ultimate  elements,  into  a  discussion  of  a 
Romantic  work  which  had  already  engrossed  the  attention  of  Germany's 
great  Romantic  theologian,  Schleiermacher,  namely,  Friedrich  Schlegel's 
famous,  or  rather,  notorious  novel,  Lucinde.  With  Schlegel's  demand 
before  him  for  an  unfettered  freedom  in  the  relation  o^  the  sexes,  a 
demand  into  which  the  aestheticism  of  the  Romanticists  had  degene- 
rated, Kierkegaard  set  up  what  he  called  a  'religious-ethical'  ideal ;  and 
in  contrasting  the  two  life-ideals,  he  foreshadows  the  problem  he  was 
to  treat  later  in  Enten — Eller  and  Stadier  paa  Livets  Vej.  He  ironically 
combats  the  Romantic  aestheticism  by  stigmatising  it,  not  as  immoral, 
but  as  unbeautiful ;  and  he  commends  the  religious  ideal,  not  as  morally 
superior  to  the  aesthetic  one,  but  as  something  essentially  poetic  and 
beautiful. 

,  On  September  10,  1840,  Kierkegaard  became  formally  engaged  to 
Regine  Olsen,  a  young  girl  of  a  good  Copenhagen  family.  As  she  was- 
still  very  young,  the  marriage  was  not  to  take  place  for  a  year ;  and  in 
that  year  Kierkegaard  lived  through  an  extraordinary  mental  tragedy, 
which  ended  in  the  engagement  being  broken  off.  The  whole  affair  has 
much  resemblance  to  the  fantastic  love-stories  of  some  of  the  German 
Romanticists;  one  thinks,  for  instance,  of  Novalis's  infatuation  for 
Sophie  Jung,  also  a  passion  which  bears  the  impression  of  having  been 
more  imagined  than  real.  It  was  almost  a  matter  of  course  that  it 
should  be  so  in  a  man  of  such  overweening  imaginative  powers  as 
Kierkegaard  was.  As  with  so  much  else  in  his  life,  the  shadow  was 
infinitely  more  to  him  than  the  substance.  The  real  Regine  proved  a 
continual  disappointment  to  her  lover ;  he  felt  happier  communing  with 
her  in  imagination  than  when  she  was  at  his  side ;  and  he  seems,  at  a 
comparatively  early  stage,  to  have  been  convinced  that  the  engagement 
had  to  be  broken  off  at  all  costs.  And  he  set  about  it  in  the  most  in- 
genious and  calculating  way.  He  insidiously  endeavoured  to  make  Regine 
believe  that  he  no  longer  cared  for  her  and  thus  to  turn  her  against 

1  Samlede  Vcerker,  iv,  pp.  273  £f. ;  German  translation,  vol.  v. 
M.  L.  R.   IX.  33 


506  Soren  Kierkegaard 

him.  This  not  succeeding,  he  was  ultimately  compelled  himself  to  take 
the  decisive  step.  The  consequence  was  something  not  unlike  a  public 
scandal  in  Copenhagen  society ;  and  from  gossiping  tongues  Kierkegaard 
fled — fled  to  Berlin,  where  he  threw  himself  into  philosophical  studies. 
Too  much  should  not  be  made  of  the  inconsiderate  cruelty  of  his  faith- 
lessness. Regine,  no  doubt,  suffered  a  little  in  her  amour  propre ;  but 
it  is  hardly  conceivable  that  she  was  very  much  in  love — she  confessed 
as  much  in  later  years1 — with  the  eccentric  philosopher.  When 
Kierkegaard  had  become  famous,  she  was  hardly  likely  to  forget  her 
relations  with  him;  but  the  fact  remains  that  not  long  after  the 
breaking-off  of  the  engagement,  she  married  another,  in  whom  she  had 
been  interested  before  Kierkegaard  came  on  the  scene  at  all. 

To  Kierkegaard,  however,  the  emotional  crises  of  these  years  meant 
everything.  There  is  hardly  a  parallel  case  in  the  annals  of  literary 
lives  when  so  much  sprang  from  so  slight  a  cause.  His  engagement 
was  more  or  less  immediately  the  theme  of  all  the  books  he  wrote  in  the 
early  forties.  In  these  he  analysed  his  feelings  and  the  motives  that 
lay  behind  them  to  the  last  shred ;  he  experimented  with  them,  magni- 
fied them,  and  developed  them  in  one  direction  or  the  other,  until  the 
original  basis  of  fact  was  left  far  behind ;  and  every  fresh  experiment  or 
hypothesis  meant,  if  not  a  new  book,  at  least  the  pinning  down  to  words 
of  some  new  discovery  of  subtle  psychological  or  emotional  experience. 

The  two  chief  works  of  this  first  period  of  Kierkegaard's  career, 
Enten — Eller  (Either — Or)  and  Stadier  paa  Livets  Vej  (Stages  on  Life's 
Way)  are  thus  the  immediate  products  of  his  unhappy  experiences  as 
the  lover  and  betrothed  of  Regine  Olsen ;  and  they  are  the  works  on 
which  Kierkegaard's  fame  as  a  man  of  letters  most  securely  rests.  The 
former  of  these,  which  appeared  in  1843,  without  the  author's  name,  as 
Enten — Eller,  et  Livs-Fragment  udgivet  af  Victor  Eremita  (Either — Or, 
A  Fragment  of  a  Life,  edited  by  Victor  Eremita  )2  and  with  the  motto 
from  Young :  '  Are  passions  then  the  pagans  of  the  soul  ?  Reason  alone 
baptised?'  is  frequently  described  as  the  greatest  work  of  modern  Danish 
literature,  a  claim  which  is  justified  by  the  enormous  and  far-reaching 
influence  it  has  exercised;  it  penetrated  in  a  superficial  age  to  the 
fundamental  realities  of  things,  and  stirred  up  men's  minds  in  Denmark 
as  nothing  had  done  before. 

Like  so  many  of  Kierkegaard's  books,  Enten — Eller  is  introduced  by 

1  Cp.   Kierkegaardske   Papirer,    Forlovelsen.      Udgivne  for  Fru    Eegine   Schlegel  af 
B.  Meyer,  Copenhagen,  1904. 

2  Samlede  Vcerker,  vols.  i  and  ii;  German  translation,  vols.  i  and  ii. 


J.    G.    ROBERTSON  507 

an  elaborate  and  enticing  preface.  With  a  graphic,  narrative  power  rare 
among  even  the  purely  imaginative  writers  of  Denmark,  the  editor  tells 
how  he  came  into  possession  of  the  papers  he  here  publishes.  He 
describes  with  convincing  circumstantiality  how  he  had  been  tempted 
to  purchase  an  old  secretaire  in  a  dealer's  shop,  and  how  an  accident  had 
disclosed  a  hidden  drawer  containing  the  manuscripts  here  laid  before 
the  reader.  This  kind  of  motive  was,  of  course,  familiar  in  Romantic 
fiction,  and  Kierkegaard  employs  it  again  even  more  effectually,  if  more 
fantastically,  in  the  introduction  to  the  third  section  of  Stadier  paa 
Livets  Vej.  The  papers,  the  editor  informs  us,  fall  into  two  clearly  marked 
groups  which  imply  two  different  authors;  these  he  designates  as  A  and  B. 
Under  this  fiction  Kierkegaard  offers  the  reader  two  opposed  philosophies 
of  life,  the  '  aesthetic '  set  forth  by  A,  and  the  '  ethic '  set  forth  by  B. 
A  is  guided  exclusively  by  'aesthetic'  considerations,  that  is  to  say, con- 
siderations of  feeling ;  he  is  a  man  whose  end  in  life  is  enjoyment.  B, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  the  representative  of  the  moral  life.  Kierkegaard 
places  these  two  antagonistic  philosophies  side  by  side  and  leaves  his 
readers  to  choose  between  them :  '  Either — Or.'  The  arranging  of  A's 
papers  gives  him  most  trouble.  First  he  collects  together  scraps  of 
paper  with  aphorisms  written  on  them,  and  these  he  publishes  under 
the  title  ^t,d^a\fj,ara — the  term  applied  in  the  Greek  translation  of 
the  Bible  to  the  music  which  divides  the  Psalms.  Then  comes  a  long, 
and  for  modern  readers,  wearisomely  detailed  discussion  of  Mozart's  Don 
Juan,  followed  by  disquisitions  on  types  of  betrayed  heroines — Marie  in 
Goethe's  Glavigo,  Gretchen  in  Faust,  and  Elvira  in  Mozart's  Don  Juan 
— and  a  criticism  of  a  long-forgotten  comedy  of  Scribe's.  The  last  of 
A's  contributions  is  by  far  the  most  important.  This  is  Forforerens 
Dagbog  (The  Seducer's  Diary),  a  masterpiece  alike  of  psychological 
analysis  and  of  Danish  prose.  Nothing  so  penetrating  and  original  had 
appeared  before  in  the  language,  and  nothing  comparable  with  it  was  to 
appear  again  until  Jacobsen's  Niels  Lyhne  forty  years  later.  In  the 
earlier  papers  attributed  to  A,  Mozart's  famous  hero  had  been  taken  as 
an  illustration  of  life  built  up  on  immediate  enjoyment.  Johannes,  in 
Forforerens  Dagbog,  is  a  quite  different  type  of  aesthete;  he  is  the 
'  reflective '  enjoy er  ;  that  is  to  say,  he  does  not  enjoy  life  immediately  at 
all,  but  enjoys  his  own  reflection  and  retrospect  on  enjoyment.  Johannes, 
in  other  words,  is  the  impersonation  of  the  strange,  anomalous,  emotional 
life  which  Kierkegaard  himself  had  been  compelled  to  live  by  his 
peculiar  temperament.  Johannes  is  a  lover  whose  imagination  is 
stronger  than  his  perceptions,  who  is  at  the  mercy  of  his  mental  activity, 

33—2 


508  Soren  Kierkegaard 

a  passive  channel  for  ideas  rather  than  a  living  being.  He  embodies 
the  reflective  sentimentalism  which  had  run  riot  in  the  German 
Romantic  literature ;  and  his  aestheticism  contrasts  with  Mozart's  as  the 
modern  'sentimental'  poetry  of  Schiller's  classification  contrasts  with  the 
'  naive '  poetry  of  the  Greeks. 

The  second  part  of  Enten — Ellen-  is  an  exposition  of  the  ethic 
attitude  of  mind.  It  consists  of  two  lengthy  letters  by  B  to  A,  the 
author  of  the  first  part,  and  criticises  the  life-philosophy  enunciated 
there.  B  sets  up  a  philosophy  of  duties  and  moral  ideals,  which  is 
directly  antagonistic  to  the  views  which  A  holds.  His  first  letter  deals 
with  the  aesthetic  justification  of  marriage,  which  he  claims  to  be  a  higher 
aesthetic  phenomenon  than  the  Romantic  love  of  the  pure  aesthete,  the 
latter  being  devoid  of  all  sense  of  self-denying  duty.  The  second  letter, 
the  more  important  of  the  two,  approaches  the  theme  from  a  constructive 
point  of  view  and  discusses  the  balance  between  the  aesthetic  and 
the  ethic  in  the  moulding  of  personality.  One  must  be  careful  in 
all  this  not  to  confuse  Kierkegaard's  own  convictions  with  those  of  his 
two  fictitious  antagonists ;  he  is  neither  A  nor  B,  or  rather  he  is  both ; 
and  what  he  here  describes  is  virtually  his  own  passage  from  what 
Carlyle  called  the  '  Everlasting  No'  to  the  'Everlasting  Yea.'  But  what 
that  'Everlasting  Yea'  for  Kierkegaard  was,  is  only  dimly  suggested  by 
the  comments  of  the  editor,  '  Victor  Eremita,'  at  the  close  of  Enten— 
Eller.  To'  find  Kierkegaard's  personal  attitude  to  the  two  philo- 
sophies here  enunciated,  and  for  a  definite  statement  of  his  own 
philosophy  of  life,  we  have  to  turn  to  another  work.  In  Stadier  paa 
Livets  Vej1,  which  appeared  in  1845,  he  recognises  three-  great  stages. 
The  purely  natural  condition  of  man  is  that  in  which  he  is  at  the  mercy 
of  his  instincts;  this  is  the  'aesthetic'  stage,  which  can  only  end  in 
pessimism  and  despair.  But  it  is  possible  for  the  aesthete  to  rise 
higher  to  a  second  or  ethical  stage,  to  substitute  for  the  motto  'in 
vino  veritas/  that  of '  cum  pietate  felicitas';  and  the  method  whereby  he 
rises  is  by  self-detachment  or  irony;  for  irony  is  virtually  the  ethical 
creed  in  disguise.  But  if  a  man  is  to  find  rest  and  satisfaction  at  this 
ethic  stage  on  life's  journey,  he  must  be  happy  in  it ;  if  a  life  dominated 
by  ideals  of  duty  leaves  him  as  miserable  as  before,  it  is  obviously  no 
solution  to  his  life-problem.  Schiller  had  already  insisted  on  this  before 
the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century.  There  is,  says  Kierkegaard,  still  a 
higher  stage,  and  that  is  the  religious  stage ;  and  that  third  or  religious 
stage  is  described  in  the  last  section  of  the  Stadier,  which  is  entitled 

1  Samlede  Vaerker,  vi ;  German  translation,  iv. 


J.    G.    ROBERTSON  509 

Skyldig?—ikke-Skyldig?  (Guilty?— Not  Guilty?).  In  the  box  which 
contained  the  manuscript  otSkyldig? — ikke-Skyldig?  Kierkegaard  tells  us 
that  he  found  a  playbill,  a  rose  in  a  silver  capsule,  and  a  page  torn  from 
the  New  Testament ;  these  are  the  symbols  of  the  three  stages.  The 
transition  from  the  ethic  to  the  religious  stage,  which  is  not  dwelt  on  in 
the  Stadier,  is  elucidated  in  two  other  works,  Frygt  og  Bceven  (Fear  and 
Trembling)  and  Gjentagelsen  (The  Recurrence),  which  were  both  partly 
written  in  Berlin  in  1843.  I  have  described  the  final  stage  of  Kierke- 
gaard's spiritual  pilgrimage  as  '  religious,'  but  the  reader  who  turns  to 
Skyldig? — ikke-Skyldig?  expecting  to  find  a  religious  discussion  will  be 
disappointed;  for  here  the  old  love-trouble  is  merely  dished  up  anew, 
under  a  fresh  pseudonym ;  the  word  religion  is  hardly  mentioned  at  all. 
But  religion  for  Kierkegaard  has  nothing  to  do  with  dogmas  or  beliefs ; 
it  is  the  intimately  personal  relation  of  the  soul  to  God.  To  find  God 
man  must  be  alone  with  his  misery ;  God  alone  can  help  him  to  answer 
the  riddle  of  his  life — '  guilty,  or  not  guilty  ? '  And  he  who  has  risen 
through  sorrow  to  the  religious  stage  of  life's  journey,  is  an  outcast  from 
his  kind,  an  isolated  exception;  he  stands  alone.  The  significance  of 
this  ascetic  and  intensely  personal  interpretation  of  religion,  which, 
however,  lost  something  of  its  negative  aspect  in  Kierkegaard's  later 
writings,  will  be  apparent  immediately. 

These  two  works  are  thus  essentially  subjective ;  they  are  Kierke- 
gaard's own  personal  confession,  his  own  dialectic  broodings  on  his 
relations  to  Regine  Olsen.  He  even  sent  Enten — Eller  to  her  with  the 
hint  that  its  purpose  was- to  enlighten  her  with  regard  to  the  motives  of 
the  crime  he  had  committed  against  her.  But  no  one  was  probably 
more  astonished  than  she  at  being  asked  to  read  her  own  by  no  means 
extravagant  relations  to  the  philosopher  out  of  the  complicated  meta- 
physical disquisition  on  passion  which  the  book  contains. 

Enten — Eller  was  well  received ;  even  The  Corsair  (Corsaren), 
Goldschmidt's  satiric  journal,  welcomed  it.  Kierkegaard,  in  fact,  did 
not  experience  any  kind  of  critical  antagonism  until  after  the  appear- 
ance of  the  third  part  of  the  Stadier,  when  P.  L.  Moller,  an  influential 
critic  of  the  day,  attacked  him.  This  was  not  in  The  Corsair]  but 
Kierkegaard,  who  evidently  believed  his  position  in  Danish  letters 
to  be  unassailable,  unwisely  replied,  and  in  his  reply  described  Holler's 
criticism  as  one  of  those  disgusting  attacks  which  were  wont  to  appear  in 
The  Corsair ;  he  even  went  further  and  complained  that  he  alone  among 
the  distinguished  writers  of  Denmark,  had  not  been  distinguished  by 
the  attacks  of  Goldschmidt's  paper.  The  Corsair  took  up  the  challenge, 


510  Soren  Kierkegaard 

and  before  very  long  Kierkegaard  bitterly  repented  his  words;  that 
journal  pursued  him  to  the  end  with  the  most  merciless  ridicule  and 
caricature,  and  no  doubt  helped  to  darken  and  embitter  his  closing  days. 
How  deeply  he  was  wounded  is  to  be  read  out  of  the  two  hundred 
pages  of  his  Diary  which  are  filled  with  this  controversy. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  deal  in  detail  with  Kierkegaard's  purely 
theological  activity,  although  its  significance,  especially  for  Denmark, 
was  quite  as  great  as  his  writings  on  aesthetic  and  ethic  questions.  Has 
not  Dr  Brandes  claimed  for  him  that  he  is  the  greatest  religious 
thinker  of  the  entire  nineteenth  century  ?  The  militant  character  of 
Kierkegaard's  individualism  first  assumed  its  full  proportions  in  his 
interpretation  of  religious  doctrines.  Some  three  months  after  Enten — 
Eller  appeared  To  opbyggelige  Taler  (Two  Edifying  Addresses)1,  in 
which  he  faced  the  difficult  problem  of  reconciling  the  essentially  social 
Christian  faith  with  his  own  uncompromising  individualism.  The  idea 
of  altruistic  Christian  love  put  peculiar  difficulties  in  his  way,  which  he 
ultimately  solved  by  defining  that  love,  not  as  an  immediate  relation  of 
one  human  being  to  another,  but  as  an  indirect  relation  through  God. 
Individualism  is  throughout  the  touchstone  of  Kierkegaard's  Christian- 
ity; dogmas  fall  away  as  disputable  and  immaterial;  he  seeks  neither 
consolation  nor  sympathy ;  his  faith  is  a  personal  matter  and  a  personal 
matter  only.  His  next  step  was,  under  the  pseudonym  of  'Johannes 
Climacus,'  to  define  the  psychological  basis  of  belief,  and  to  destroy  that 
philosophical  optimism  which  had  invaded  Danish  theology  in  the  train 
of  Hegelianism ;  this  is  the  theme  of  Philosophiske  Smuler  eller  en  Smule 
Philosophi  (Philosophical  Bits  or  a  Bit  of  Philosophy,  1844)2,  and — his 
chief  philosophical  work — Afsluttende  uvidenskabelig  Efterskrift  til  de 
philosophiske  Smuler  (Concluding  Unscientific  Postscript  to  the  Philo- 
sophical Bits)3.  His  next  step  was — and  again  under  a  pseudonym, 
'  Anticlimacus' — to  declare  war  on  the  Danish  Church ;  this  is  the  main 
burden  of  the  two  works  Sygdommen  til  Doden  (Sickness  unto  Death, 
1849)4  and  Inddvelse  i  Christendom  (Practice  in  Christianity,  1850)5. 
Here,  too,  he  set  forth  his  own  faith  in  its  more  positive  aspects.  Of 
Christian  charity;  of  the  poetry  and  sentiment  which  the  Church  had 
woven  round  the  figure  of  its  Founder,  he  will  hear  nothing.  To  be  a 
Christian  is  to  be  a  fighter,  whose  hand  is  against  every  man's  in  the 

1  Samlede  Vcerker,  iv,  pp.  69  ff. 

2  Ibid.,  iv,  pp.  171  ff. ;  German  translation,  vi. 

3  Ibid.,  vii;  German  translation,  vi,  pp.  101  ff.  and  vii, 

4  Ibid.,  xi,  pp.  lllff. ;  German  translation,  viii. 

5  Ibid.,  xii;  German  translation,  ix. 


J.    G.    ROBERTSON  511 

holy  cause  of  God  against  the  world.  All  Kierkegaard's  life  was  one 
long  tussle  with  the  powers  of  orthodoxy,  and  possibly  he  might  himself 
have  ended  altogether  outside  the  pale,  had  he  not  been  bound  by 
strange,  mystic  bonds  to  his  dead  father.  In  the  end  it  was  the 
Galilean  that  conquered;  but  the  Christianity  in  which  Kierkegaard 
died  was  darkened  by  renunciatory  pessimism.  Christianity  had  become 
to  him  a  sinister  power  exerted  by  a  merciless  Deity,  a  Moloch  to  be 
appeased  at  all  costs. 

Kierkegaard's  life,  like  that  of  the  great  German,  Lessing,  who  had 
the  warmest  place  in  his  heart1,  ended  amidst  the  storms  of  theological 
conflict.  His  last  publications  were  an  attack  on  Bishop  Martensen — 
and  with  him  the  whole  official  hierarchy  of  the  Danish  State  Church — 
for  daring  to  stand  up  before  the  world  as  a  witness  to,  the  truth ;  he 
passionately  denied  the  right  of  Martensen  to  be  regarded  as  a  true 
representative  of  apostolic  Christianity.  His  last  book,  a  periodical, 
Ojeblikket  (The  Moment)2,  was  in  course  of  publication  when  he  fell  ill, 
and  on  October  2,  1855,  he  became  a  patient  of  the  Frederiks  Hospital. 
He  was  well  aware  that  the  terrible  spinal  disease  from  which  he 
suffered  would  be  fatal,  and  that  death  was  inevitable ;  and  he  faced  the 
end  with  that  bravery,  or  it  may  be  only  the  stoical  indifference,  which 
is  one  of  the  consolations  that  a  brooding  temperament  like  Kierke- 
gaard's brings  with  it.  He  himself  felt  that  his  mission  in  the  world 
was  completed ;  his  intellectual  powers  were  slipping  from  him,  and  his 
worldly  means  were  all  but  exhausted.  His  death  took  place  on 
November  11,  1855;  he  refused  the  ministrations  of  the  Church,  and 
would  see  no  priest,  not  even  his  brother  who  was  a  bishop.  His  grave 
is  adorned  with  no  monument;  the  wish  he  once  expressed  was  not 
fulfilled :  '  If  I  were  to  wish  for  an  inscription  on  my  grave,  I  should 
desire  nothing  but  the  words  "Hin  Enkelte"  (The  Unique).  If  its 
meaning  is  not  yet  comprehensible,  it  will  be  some  day.' 

The  image  of  Denmark's  greatest  thinker  which  has  stamped  itself 
on  the  mind  of  his  own  people,  is  essentially  a  grotesque  one.  The 
Corsair  was,  no  doubt,  in  part  responsible  for  this;  but,  as  we  have 
seen,  he  had  inherited  much  of  his  father's  eccentricity ;  and  this 
eccentricity  became  more  marked  as  he  grew  older.  Kierkegaard's 
ludicrous  figure,  in  his  old-fashioned  coat,  his  trousers  bagging  round  his 
spindle  legs,  and  his  umbrella  sticking  through  his  arm,  was  familiar  to 
every  one;  for  he  took  his  regular  walk  every  day  at  the  same  hour 

1  Cp.  especially  Afsluttende  uvidenskabelig  Efterskrift  (SamL  Vcerker,  vii),  pp.  47  ff. 

2  Samlede  Vcerker,  xiv,  pp.  103  ff. ;  German  translation,  xii. 


512  Soren  Kierkegaard 

through  the  same  busy  streets.  A  more  dignified  memory  of  him  was 
associated  with  his  long  pedestrian  or  carriage  tours,  always  alone,  in 
the  country  around  Copenhagen ;  and  a  sense  of  awesome  mystery  was 
awakened  by  his  suite  of  brilliantly  lighted  rooms,  each  of  which  was 
provided  with  a  desk  and  writing  materials ;  for  here  the  lonely  thinker 
paced  up  and  down,  night  after  night,  thinking  his  lonely  thoughts,  and 
writing  his  mysterious  books1. 

It  is  doubtful  whether  Danish  critics  have  even  yet  fully  recognised 
how  closely  Kierkegaard's  thought  and  activity  were  bound  up  with 
those  of  the  Romantic  Movement  in  Germany  and  Scandinavia2.  I  do  not 
refer  merely  to  outward  indebtedness  in  matters  of  form  and  style — that 
Jean  Paul-like  grotesqueness  of  humorous  phrase — but  rather  to  the 
essentially  Romantic  character  of  his  philosophy.  The  Danes  are 
themselves  disposed  to  look  upon  him  rather  as  an  antagonist  of  German 
Romanticism ;  but  he  was,  in  reality,  only  an  antagonist  of  the  later, 
decadent  aspect  of  the  movement,  which  manifested  itself  in  the  passive 
resignation  of  Romanticism  to  Catholicism  and  absolutism,  its  confusion 
of  thought  and  feeling,  and  its  enthraldom  by  Hegelianism.  So  far 
from  regarding  Kierkegaard  as  an  antagonist  of  Romanticism  I  would 
rather  claim  him  as  one  of  the  very  few  representatives  then  left  in 
Europe  of  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  the  early  Romantic  School.  In 
the  thirties  and  forties,  I  can  think,  at  least,  of  only  two  European 
books,  which,  amidst  an  almost  universal  abnegation  of  individualism, 
stood  firm  by  the  old  Romantic  faith  in  the  supreme  value  of  personality. 
These  are  Enten — Eller  and  Sartor  Resartus. 

Soren  Kierkegaard  thus  stands  out  as  a  pioneer  and  apostle  of 
modern  Romantic  individualism ;  the  significance  of  Enten — Eller  is 
that  it  is  an  outstanding  plea  for  individualism,  as  opposed  to  the 
levelling  collectivism  of  the  Hegelian  philosophy ;  and  in  the  hands  of 
the  Danish  Hegelians,  Heiberg,  Martensen  and  Rasmus  Nielsen,  just 
this  side  of  the  Hegelian  philosophy  had  been  accentuated.  To  a 
philosophy  that  saw  in  individuals  merely  the  units  of  the  great  entity, 
humanity,  or,  at  best,  the  bearers  of  an  '  idea,'  Kierkegaard  opposed  a 
claim  for  the  supreme  importance  of  the  individual.  Personality  is  to 
him  the  one  thing  that  matters.  Each  human  being  must  face  the  life- 
problem  in  his  own  way;  and  he  must  have  complete  freedom  to  do  so. 

1  Cp.  Brandes,  op.  cit.,  pp.  251  f. 

2  Brandes'  in  his  Den  romantiske  Skole  i  Tyskland  has  much  to  say  on  matters  of  detail 
concerning  Kierkegaard's  relations  to  the  German  Komantic  School  (cp.  especially  Brandes, 
Saml.  Skrifter,  iv,  pp.  220 f.,  250 ff.,  331  ff.).     See  also  G.  Niedermeyer,  Soren  Kierkegaard 
und  die  Romantik  (Ab  handling  en  zur  Philosophic  und  ihrer  Geschichte,  xi),  Leipzig,  1910. 


J.    G.    ROBERTSON  513 

He  must  cultivate  that  inwardness  of  soul  which  takes  no  count  of  the 
world  outside  him;  he  must  live  the  'personal,'  isolated  life.  As  the 
representative  of  this  essentially  modern  creed,  Kierkegaard  struck 
the  keynote  to  the  Scandinavian  literature  of  the  later  nineteenth 
century ;  his  was  virtually  the  message  on  which  that  literature 
has  risen  to  greatness  and  influence  in  Europe.  The  passionate  plea 
for  the  rights  of  personality  which  runs  all  through  Ibsen's  later  work, 
from  the  banging  of  the  door  in  Et  Dukkehjem  to  the  transcendental 
individualism  of  Naar  vi  dode  vaagner,  was  also  Kierkegaard's,  and  the 
sinister,  gloomy  faith  of  Ibsen's  Brand  is  an  embodiment,  carried  to  its 
logical  extreme,  of  the  third  great  stage  in  Kierkegaard's  life  journey, 
the  religious  stage. 

J.    G.    KbBERTSON. 

LONDON. 


MISCELLANEOUS   NOTES. 

A  VISIT  TO  PARIS  IN  1749. 

THE  following  unpublished  letter1  deserves  to  be  known  for  two 
reasons :  first,  it  throws  some  light  on  the  social  relations  between 
England  and  France  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and,  in  the 
second  place,  the  vivid  way  in  which  it  illustrates  the  cosmopolitan 
spirit  of  the  age,  testifies  once  more  to  the  existence  in  both  countries 
of  parallel  forces  which  led  to  the  evolution  of  one  and  the  same  intel- 
lectual type :  '  1'abbe  Birch '  and  1'abbe  Sallier. 

Philip  Yorke2  to  Daniel  Wrayz. 

pt 
PARIS  Septr  the  — ^  1749. 

DEAR  WRAY, 

Your  Letters  have  the  merit  of  choice  Closet  Peices,  wch  being  rarely  to 
be  met  with,  &  highly  finished,  are  greatly  valued  by  the  Curious.  You  entertain 
me  with  an  Account  of  your  Summer  Amusements,  but  drop  one  wch  I  think  the 
most  remarkable,  &  wch  I  shd  scarce  credit,  if  I  had  it  not  upon  the  best  Authority, 
that  instead  of  Delia  Valle  your  old  Friend,  or  those  of  later  date  the  Alcoran  & 
Mynheer  Kemfer,  you  were  actually  found  wth  a  volume  of  Sir  L.  Jenkin's  Negotia- 
tions before  you,  &  were  afterwards  content  to  take  up  wth  the  humbler  ocurrences 
of  Master  Garrard.  You  say  nothing  of  your  Literary  Repasts  in  Kew  Lane  wch 
makes  me  doubt  whether  you  have  exercised  that  Hospitality  to  the  Learned  wch 
you  engaged  to  do  :  but  you  will  alledge  perhaps  in  excuse  for  the  omission  that  the 

T*J_  />       T  1  1*1  ,1  rf»        T-\  •  1  j  1      •  /.I  A     •  O  I 


does  in  his  appartments  at  the  Bibliotheque  Royale  :  and  this  leads  me  to  tell  you 
that  I  have  twice  visited  that  Collection,  wch  is  indeed  a  noble  one,  &  does  honor  to 
the  Generosity  of  the  Royal  Founders,  &  the  Taste  of  Those  who  have  had  the 
conduct  of  it.  There  are  not  fewer  than  140,000  volumes  of  all  sorts  printed  & 
manuscript  in  the  Library ;  the  Former  are  ranged  with  great  method  in  3  long 
Gallerys  &  one  large  Ante  Room  :  there  is  a  4th  Gallery  finishing  for  the  reception 
of  the  rest,  wch  are  not  yet  in  such  exact  order.  The  MSS  are  very  numerous,  & 
put  up  in  smaller  appartments.  Those  relating  to  the  French  History  are  out  of 

1  B.M.S1.,  4325,  fol.  10-12. 

2  Philip  Yorke,  F.R.S.,  eldest  son  of  Lord  Chancellor  Hardwicke. 

3  Daniel  Wray,  F.R.S.,  wrote  the  Athenian  Letters  in  collaboration  with  Philip  and 
Charles  Yorke,  T.  Birch  and  some  others. 

4  T.  Birch,  D.D.,  the  secretary  and  the  historian  of  the  Royal  Society. 

5  Keeper  of  the  King's  Library  and  best  remembered  as  one  of  the  earliest  contributors 
to  the  Encyclopedic.     Cf.  Discours  preliminaire,  edit.  Picavet,  p.  142. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  515 

the  Cabinet  of  Card:  Mazarin,  Mons1' Colbert  etc.  there  is  also  a  Species  of  Literature 
wch  is  not  to  be  met  with  anywhere  else,  I  mean  several  parcels  of  Chinese  Tar- 
tarran,  &  Indian  Books,  wth  short  Accounts  of  the  Contents  from  the  Missionaries 
who  sent  them  over.  The  Cabinet  of  Medals,  I  have  not  yet  had  an  opportunity  of 
seeing,  as  Monsr  Boze1  who  is  the  keeper  of  it  has  been  out  of  Town  ;  but  I  have 
turned  over  some  volumes  of  the  Collection  of  Prints,  wch  seems  a  very  perfect  and 
compleat  one,  &  the  Abbe  who  has  ye  care  of  it  was  very  desirous  I  shd  renew  my 
visit.— The  Library  is  now  lodged  at  the  Hotel  de  Nevers  Rue  Richelieu  where  the 
Bank  was  kept  in  the  time  of  Lawe,  &  the  10th  volume  of  the  Catalogue  is  now  in 
the  Press,  but  I  despair  of  getting  the  Memoire  Historique  wch  you  spoke  to  me 
about  by  itself,  tho'  I  told  Abbe  Sallier  It  would  be  a  great  satisfaction  to  many  of 
our  Savans,  whose  Finances  wd  be  too  far  reduced  by  the  purchase  of  so  many  thick 
Folios. — I  have  had  an  opportunity  of  presenting  the  President's2  Letter  to  Monsr 
Reaumur,  &  seeing  his  Collection  tho'  in  a  more  cursory  way  than  I  could  have 
wished,  but  that  was  owing  to  the  numerous  Company  who  saw  it  with  me.  The 
old  Gentleman  was  extreamly  civil  to  me,  &  if  he  comes  back  to  Paris  before  I  leave 
it,  I  shall  certainly  visit  him,  en  Philosophe  &  alone. — Mons1'  Buffons  [sic]  has  been 
unluckily  in  the  Country  ever  since  my  arrival,  and  is  not  like  to  return  in  any 
reasonable  time ;  I  have  made  however  one  attempt,  (&  meditate1  another)  to  see 
the  Jardin  du  Roi  &  le  Cabinet  thro'  ye  Canal  of  Monsr  Daubenton  his  Deputy,  but 
he  was  also  out  of  Town,  tho'  like  your  worship's  his  Residences  en  campagne  are  but 
short.  I  sent  the  Presidents  Letter  to  Monsr  Fontenelle,  &  visited  him  upon  the 
strength  of  it  a  day  or  two  after.  He  behaved  to  me  with  great  Politeness,  Spoke 
very  honorably  of  the  English  &  their  Productions,  &  was  very  glad  to  hear  of  ye 
King's  Bounty  to  the  R.  Observatory  at  Greenwich  ;  He  told  me  He  had  been 
upward  of  40  years  Secy  to  the  Academy,  &  had  written  70  or  if  I  mistake  not 
80  eloges.  I  replied  It  was  happy  for  ye  memory  of  his  Brethren  of  the  Academy, 
that  he  had  outlived  so  many  of  them,  since  witht  a  Compliment  no  one  had  filled 
that  difficult  Province  so  ably  as  himself.  He  mentioned  something  but  I  did  not 
well  understand  what,  wch  Mr.  Foulkes  had  omitted  answering,  out  of  a  former 
Letter  of  his.  perhaps  if  you  give  the  President  a  hint  of  it  when  you  see  him,  He 
may  know  what  it  is  wch  Mons1'  F.  meant.  I  desire  you  wd  make  him  my  particular 
Compliments  at  the  same  time,  wth  many  thanks  for  the  advantages  of  his  Reco- 
mendations. — By  the  Civility  of  Abbe  Guasco  an  Italian,  &  an  honorary  member  of 
the  Academy  of  Belles  Lettres  I  was  admitted  to  one  of  their  meetings.  I  heard 
2  Papers  read  one  upon  the  Miroirs  of  the  Ancients,  &  the  other  upon  the  Chronology 
of  ye  Lydian  Kings,  but  I  thought  the  first  very  trifling,  &  ye  other  very  dry,  &  I 
question  whether  either  of  them  will  be  preserved  in  their  printed  Memoirs,  that 
Academy  is  now  employed  by  the  orders  of  Mons1'  D'Argenson  about  a  Medallic 
History  of  the  present  Reign,  &  I  suppose  with  a  particular  view  to  the  Sucesses  of 
the  last  War. 

I  hear  the  Design  for  a  new  Square  is  dropt,  but  that  the  old  Front  of  Versailles 
to  the  Court  wch  is  you  remember  a  very  ugly  one,  will  be  taken  down  this  winter  & 
rebuilt  in  a  more  elegant  Taste. 

There  is  little  stirring  at  present  en  fait  de  Literature  here, — even  Novels  and 
Plays  are  during  this  dead  season  kept  up  in  the  Authors  Garrets  till  after  the 
St  Martin  when  the  Town  is  fuller.  I  am  told  that  Voltaire  is  writing  a  Catiline 3 
wch  will  put  Monsr  Crebillon's4  out  of  Countenance,  but  that  you  will  say  is  no  hard 
matter.  The  waspish  Generation  of  Criticks  has  so  far  disgusted  him,  that  he  has 
neither  printed  his  Semiramis^  nor  his  Nannire6;  the  last  is  taken  from  our  Pamela, 
but  had  no  great  run.  I  have  you  may  believe,  frequented  their  Spectacles  a  good 

1  Claude  Gros  de  Boze  (1680-1753),  perpetual  secretary  of  the  Academic  des  Inscriptions 
et  Belles-lettres. 

2  i.e.  Martin  Folkes  who  was  elected  President  of  the  Boyal  Society  in  1741. 

3  Voltaire's  Catilina  was  first  performed  on  Feb.  24,  1752. 

4  Dec.  20,  1748,  published  1749. 

6  A  mistake;  Semiramis  (Aug.  29,  1748)  was  published  in  April,  1749. 
6  i.e.  Nanine  (June  16,  1749),  published  in  Nov.  of  that  year. 


516  Miscellaneous  Notes 

deal ;  I  am  a  great  admirer  of  Miles  Dumenil  &  Gaussin1,  the  first  is  excellent  for  the 
higher  parts  in  Tragedy2  as  Rodogune  arid  Merope  in  wch  I  have  seen  her,  &  the 
last  in  the  tender  &  soft.  I  am  not  much  struck  with  any  of  their  men,  &  Grand val 
their  best  Actor,  is  to  me  a  disagreable  one.  He  is  very  stiff,  has  no  variety  of 
manner,  &  cannot  hit  the  passionate  &  affecting  strokes  as  Garrick  does.  I  have 
scribbled  you  a  long  letter,  &  tis  Time  to  leave  off,  only  Let  me  desire  you  to  send 

Ld  D s  medals,  &  Birch's  Historical  Account  to  Mons1'  Faget  as  soon  as  you  can. 

Direct  them  to  Mr.  Walters  the  King's  Agent  at  Rotterdam,  with  a  note  to  recomend 
them  to  his  Conveyance.  I  am  much  obliged  to  Mr.  Edwards  for  the  Trouble  he  was 
pleased  to  take  about  the  Root  house  [?].  Your  compliment  to  him  is  a  very  just 
one,  &  I  prefer  his  good  Doctrine  greatly  to  Mr.  Hitcroft's.  I  hope  we  shall  pass 
some  days  together  quietly  &  sociably  before  the  Parliament -meets,  for  if  I  know 
myself  at  all,  I  am  not  made  for  a  Citizen  'of  Paris. — We  abound  at  present  with 

English,  &  amongst  the  rest  my  good  Lord  Lond y  your  old  Disciple  at  Cambridge 

whom  I  saw  the  other  night  very  gallantly  carrying  off  3  Ladys  in  his  Chariot,  lui- 
meme  le  quatrieme  from  the  Opera.  I  may  trust  this  anecdote  to  your  Prudence, 
tho'  the  Fact  was  not  committed  in  a  corner.  If  you  was  not  so  necessary  as  a 

careful!  Sheperd  to  the  little  Flock  at  [?]  W r  I  should  wish  for  you  here,  to  visit 

the  Palais  Royal  &  the  Churches.  I  arn  also  in  great  want  of  Pond3  witht  whose 
Judicious  Eye  I  may  bring  home  a  very  bad  Cargo  from  Mariette's4.  Pray  tell  him 
that  his  Burgomaster  Sixte  is  a  better  Rembrandt  than  one  saw  at  the  King's 
Library.  I  hope  he  &  his  pencil  flourishes.  Is  your  Portrait  yet  taken  for  a 
further  Improvem*. 

Yours  &c. 
P.  Y. 

J.  J.  CHAMPENOIS. 
LONDON. 


'LA   JOURN^E   DBS   DUPES.' 

La  Journe'e  des  Dupes:  piece  tragi-politi-comique.  This  political 
satire,  published  in  the  year  1790  by  one  of  the  deputies  of  the  National 
assembly,  and  containing  trenchant  criticisms  of  the  policy  of  Mirabeau 
and  the  character  of  Lafayette,  together  with  an  eye-witness's  account  of 
the  events  of  October  5  and  6, 1789,  seems  to  have  escaped  the  recognition 
it  deserves.  This  may  be  due  partly  to  the  form  of  the  satire,  which 
was  described  as  a  '  piece  represented  sur  le  Theatre  National '  by  '  les 
grands  comediens  de  la  Patrie.'  It  has  therefore  been  classified  at  the 
British  Museum  with  '  pieces  d'actualite" '  performed  on  the  stage.  In 
examining  the  lesser  plays  of  the  period  I  came  upon  the  satire,  bound  up 
with  three  plays  of  the  '  vaudeville  '  type5. 

Both  external  and  internal  evidence  point  to  Nicolas  Bergasse  (1750- 
1832)  as  the  author  of  this  piece  :  a  copy  in  the  British  Museum  contains 

1  Of.  Bengesco,  Les  comediennes  de  Voltaire. 

2  Garrick  had  the  same  opinion,  cf.  Bengesco,  op,  cit.,  p.  103. 

:{  Arthur  Pond,  the  painter  and  engraver,  Wray's  and  Yorke's  intimate  friend. 
The  famous  dealer  in  prints  and  engravings. 

5  La  Journee  des  Dupes  has  also  been  sometimes  confused  with  a  play  of  Nepomucene 
Lemercier's,  written  in  1821  under  the  same  title.  Lemercier's  play  refers  to  the  original 
'Journee  des  Dupes'  in  the  Fronde,  and  has  no  connection  with  the  satire  of  1790. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  517 

a  MS.  note  attributing  the  work  to  him,  and  the  satire  reflects  very 
accurately  the  views  of  Bergasse  as  they  can  be  gathered  from  his 
political  pamphlets.  Together  with  Lally-Tollendal  and  Mounier  he 
stood  for  reform  within  the  existing  state,  for  the  survival  of  the 
monarchical  principle,  and  for  a  conception  of  political  liberty  to  be 
gained  through  the  severe  discipline  of  citizenship.  In  the  latter  view 
he  anticipated  De  Tocqueville.  He  was  an  eye-witness  of  the  events  of 
October  5  and  6,  1789. 

Bergasse's  talent  was  rhetorical  rather  than  literary.  In  La  Journee 
des  Dupes,  using  the  oratorical  method,  he  attempted  to  make  the 
people  rationally  conscious  of  their  action  at  a  time  of  grave  national 
crisis.  The  satire  recapitulates  the  events  of  1789  and  gives  a  judg- 
ment on  their  probable  results.  In  some  cases  the  '  personnages '  of 
the  drama  are  symbolic :  '  La  Maitresse  du  Club '  stands  for  the  French 
nation  as  a  whole  ;  the  Revolutionary  party  is  a  '  Troupe  de  Brigands  ' ; 
*  Monsieur  Garde-Rue '  is  a  type  of  the  class  of '  Sergents ';  'La  Peyrouse ' 
is  an  aristocrat,  and  '0  Paria'  the  Indian  who  judges  the  political 
condition  of  France  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  noble  savage.  In  other 
cases  the  characters  are  the  political  personages  of  the  time,  the  names 
transparently  travestied.  Mirabeau  becomes  '  Bimeaura,'  Le  Chapelier 
'  Pecheillar,'  Bailly  '  Laibil,  on  ne  sait  pas  bien  ce  que  c'est  encore/  and 
Lafayette  '  Yetafet.'  Necker  is  referred  to  as  '  Reken/  Mounier  appears 
under  his  own  name  as  a  '  citoyen  vertueux/  and  represents  the  political 
views  of  the  author. 

It  is  intended  to  reproduce  the  satire  shortly  with  a  historical 
introduction. 

ELEANOR  F.  JOURDAIN. 

OXFORD. 


SAINTE-BEUVE,  BALZAC,  AND  THACKERAY. 

In  1834  Sainte-Beuve  made  his  sole  appearance  as  a  writer  of 
romantic  psychological  fiction.  Volupte,  nowadays  probably  little  read 
or  known,  presents  characters  significant  of  its  own  time,  and  yet 
unmistakably  connected  with  the  spirit  of  La  Nouvelle  Helo'ise  and  its 
abundant  progeny,  the  complete  filiation  and  interdependence  of  which 
we  can  now  view  from  our  coign  of  historical  perspective. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  Sainte-Beuve's  subtly  elaborate 
study  of  the  anguish  which  visits  a  soul  in  the  struggle  between 
earthly  passion  and  the  longing  for  mystic  perfection  was  deeply 


518  Miscellaneous  Notes 

affected  by  his  interest  in  Madame  de  Kriidener's  Valerie  (1803),  care- 
fully analysed  and  judged  by  him  in  Portraits  de  Femmes.  Indeed,  his 
reference  to  that  lady's  novel  in  his  own  (p.  276)  as  'un  ouvrage 
nouveau  qui  m'avait  a  fond  remue  par  le  rapport  frappant  des  situa- 
tions et  des  souffrances  avec  les  ndtres '  may  well  be  deemed  conclusive, 
together  with  the  added  confirmation  of  repeated  mention  of  Saint- 
Martin,  the  strange  mystic  (Le  Philospphe  Inconnu),  and  his  cryptic 
doctrines.  The  situation  of  Gustave  (a  reader  of  Ossian,  by  the  by) 
resembles  that  of  Saint-Preux,  of  Werther,  and  Sainte-Beuve's  Amaury, 
— the  impressionable  youth  becoming  the  friend  of  a  middle-aged 
husband,  while  inwardly  pining  for  the  young  wife  and  being  devoured 
by  an  unuttered  passion ;  and,  like  Amaury,  he  ultimately  finds  the 
solution  in  taking  holy  orders.  Of  substantial  relation  there  can  be  no 
question.  Sainte-Beuve  presents  a  large  canvass,  on  which  are  sketched 
several  important  historical  personages,  not  wholly  disguised,  moving 
amidst  all  the  complicated  events  of  the  last  years  of  the  Empire,  and 
thus  serving  to  introduce  a  strong  political  colour  conveyed  in  the 
nuances  of  most  of  the  leading  characters'  opinions.  So  far  as  descrip- 
tions of  scenery  and  background  are  concerned,  or  enter  into  his  work, 
Sainte-Beuve  enjoyed  the  undeniable  advantage  of  writing  after 
Chateaubriand  and  under  the  influence  of  the  romantic  cult  of  Nature. 
What  chiefly  distinguishes  this  work  is,  however,  the  atmosphere  of 
intense  Catholic  faith,  inspiring  many  flights  of  fervent  rapture,  and, 
coming  from  the  hero,  it  thus  offers  a  revelation  more  familiar  through 
real  Confessions  than  in  the  pages  of  prose  fiction  even  of  a  strongly 
lyrical  cast.  And,  in  the  present  case,  this  is  owing  to  the  coexistence 
in  the  same  human  being  of  a  capacity  for  imaginative  religious 
enthusiasm  and  ardent  desire  (pp.  300,  etc.),  a  combination  all  the  more 
remarkable  that  it  emanated  from  the  mind  of  a  consistent  and  avowed 
materialist.  This  element  and  the  sustained'  dithyrambic  style,  which 
endeavours  to  attain  the  level  of  pulsating  lyricism  familiar  in  the  high- 
pitched  prose  of  that  day,  would  seem  to  bear  witness  to  a  phase  of 
Sainte-Beuve's  emotional  life  as  yet  unexplained.  This  note  it  would 
be  vain  to  seek  in  his  critical  essays,  the  sober  intellectuality  of  which 
pervades  and  tempers  the  most  eloquent  of  their  passages.  The  nearest 
approach  to  a  conclusive  analysis  and  interpretation  may  be  found  in 
Ch.  XII  of  M.  Joachim  Merlant's  Le  Roman  Personnel  de  Rousseau  a, 
Fromentin  (1905). 

The  connexion  between  Sainte-Beuve's  singular  study  and  Balzac's 
Le  Lys  dans  La  Vallee  (1835-6)  is  too  well  known  to  call  for  more  than 


Miscellaneous  Notes  519 

mere  mention.  The  latter's  riposte,  in  truth,  followed  hard  upon  Sainte- 
Beuve's  disparaging  remarks  on  La  Recherche  de  I'Absolu  in  1834. 
Jules  Sandeau  reported  that  Balzac's  angry  exclamation  was :  '  II  me  le 
payera ;  je  lui  passerai  ma  plume  au  travers  du  corps.  Je  referai 
Volupte.'  What  he  made  of  it  needs  no  recounting ;  his  achievement 
in  dealing  with  an  all  but  identical  situation  consists  in  placing  before 
his  readers  the  agony  of  compulsory  renunciation  on  the  heroine's  part 
when  the  youth  abandons  the  regions  of  a  strictly  ethereal  love  for  the 
arms  of  an  enthralling  siren.  Balzac's  robust  temperament  leads  him 
to  emphasize  the  materially  positive  side  in  human  relations,  often 
distastefully  enough  ;  yet  it  is  precisely  this  power  which  lends  his 
characters,  portraits,  and  effective  situations  their  permanent  vitality. 
Given  his  assumptions  concerning  the  mentality  of  women,  there  is  no 
disputing  the  quality  that  results  from  his  applications^  in  comparison 
with  which  Sainte-Beuve's  attempts  appear  so  verbose  that,  were  it 
not  for  Balzac's  admission,  one  might  deem  the  resemblances  to  be 
developed  independently  out  of  the  original  situation. 

The  History  of  Henry  Esmond,  Esq.,  came  out  in  1852,  two  years 
after  the  death  of  Balzac.  To  many  devotees  of  Thackeray's  genius  (I 
count  myself  one)  it  may  seem  almost  wayward  to  note  points  of 
similarity,  general  or  detailed,  between  the  English  novelist  and  his 
nearest  French  forerunner,  so  far  asunder  are  they  in  their  views  of  life 
and  conduct  as  well  as  in  their  respective  conceptions  of  a  writer's  art 
and  the  responsibilities  which  it  entails  on  him.  But  who  can  resist 
the  seductive  suggestion  that  the  linking  together  of  stories  in  series, 
the  carrying  over  of  a  character  from  novel  to  novel,  derives  directly 
from  La  Comedie  Humaine  ? 

On  examining  Esmond  with  some  minuteness,  we  note  several  im- 
portant items  in  situation,  development,  sentiment,  and  even  incident 
which  unfailingly  recall  Balzac's  study  of  unsatisfied  passion,  though 
two  more  completely  irreconcilable  interpretations  of  human  character 
can  scarcely  be  imagined.  As  representatives  of  political  opinion,  both 
family  groups  are  faithful  adherents  of  a  doomed  or  dying  cause — Legi- 
timist or  Jacobite  ;  and  in  both  cases  the  young  hero  (grave  and  sedate 
beyond  his  years)  is  entrusted  with  the  carrying  out  of  a  perilous 
mission  at  an  important  or  decisive  juncture  in  the  story.  Each  of 
the  heroes  has  had  to  endure  an  unhappy,  solitary  childhood,  lack  of 
sympathy  and  repression;  each  awakens  to  the  possibilities  of  an 
ampler  life  through  his  meeting  with  the  heroine,  only  a  few  years  his 
senior,  mother  of  two  children,  with  a  much  older  husband.  The 


520  Miscellaneous  Notes 

difference  of  age  is  all  but  identical.  Esmond  is  twelve  at  the  opening 
of  his  narrative  ;  Lady  Castlewood,  *  scarce  twenty  years  old.'  Madame 
de  Mortsauf  is  not  far  from  the  horrid  promontory  of  thirty ;  Vande- 
nesse  is  twenty.  In  each  novel  the  leading  feminine  role  falls  to  one 
who  unites  with  other  qualities  a  strong  practical  sense  which  carries 
her  and  her  family  through  serious  complications  in  their  affairs  and 
makes  her  the  tutelary  spirit  of  the  situation ;  each,  too,  loving  with 
womanly  and  quasi-maternal  fidelity  the  rather  priggish  and  excessively 
self-conscious  youth  (the  contrast  of  whose  abilities  with  the  attributes 
of  her  own  husband  she  instinctively  discerns),  undergoes  the  bitterness 
of  seeing  an  unworthy  rival  capture  the  long-coveted  prize. 

To  pursue  the  parallels  further  might  lead  one  into  vain  subtleties. 
Moreover,  the  principal  contrasts  are  sharp  and  striking.  The  living 
woman,  Beatrix,  is  not  near  of  kin  to  the  stagey  fantoche,  who  goes  by 
the  name  of  Lady  Dudley — '  faite  de  chic  '  as  M.  George  Pellissier  says ; 
nor  are  Felix  de  Vandenesse  and  Henry  Esmond  to  be  forced  into  one 
category. 

Thackeray,  for  all  his  reading  in  the  lighter  French  literature  of  his 
time,  mentions  Balzac  sparingly,  if  at  all.  We  may,  therefore,  in  this 
case,  hesitate  before  assenting  to  conclusions  less  obvious  than  such  as 
might  be  reached,  for  instance,  through  pursuing  details  of  treatment  in 
Bleak  House  and  Alice-f or- Short.  Were  it  possible  to  establish  such 
connexion,  the  most  singular  element  in  the  discovery  would  consist  in 
the  indirect  and  sinuous  filament  attaching  to  Rousseau  and  Madame 
de  Kriidener  one  whose  ineradicable  John-Bullism  would  have  contemned 
the  spirit  of  their  teaching.  What  he  thought  of  Werther  is  preserved 
in  the  inimitable  boutade,  which  most  probably  conveys  his  real  feeling: 

Charlotte  having  seen  his  body, 

Borne  before  her  on  a  shutter, 
Like  a  well-conducted  person, 

Went  on  cutting  bread  and  butter. 

Goethe  had  said  :  '  Man  furchtete  fur  Lottens  Leben/ 

PAUL  T.  LAFLEUR. 
McGiLL  UNIVERSITY,  MONTREAL. 

HORACE  WALPOLE  AND  MARIETTE. 

When  Walpole  went  to  Paris  in  1765  for  the  first  time,  he  made 
the  acquaintance  of  Pierre  Jean  Mariette1,  a  friend  of  Madame  du 
Deffand's,  a  celebrated  collector,  author  of  numerous  works  on  painting 

1  1694-1774. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  521 

and  engraving,  and  a  recognised  authority.  Walpole  consulted  him 
repeatedly,  admired  his  collection,  arid  coveted  a  miniature  of  Madame 
d'Olonne  by  Petitot  in  his  possession.  But,  as  he  remarked  of  '  Old 
Mariette '  to  a  friend,  '  You  know,  I  suppose,  that  he  would  as  soon 
part  with  an  eye  as  with  anything  in  his  own  collection1.' 

Mariette,  on  the  other  hand,  seems  to  have  been  interested  in 
Walpole ;  even  before  Walpole  had  come  to  Paris,  he  had  translated 
the  Anecdotes  of  Painting,  learning,  it  is  said,  English  in  his  old  age 
for  this  purpose.  The  translation  has  never  been  published;  neither 
Walpole  nor  Madame  du  Deffand  ever  mention  it,  though,  presumably, 
they  were  aware  of  its  existence,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  while  admitting 
to  his  friend  Bottari  that  the  author,  '  il  sig.  Orazio  Walpol '  was  '  un 
uomo  di  molto  spirito...che  ha  messo  in  questo  suo  lib^o  tutto  quello 
spirito,  di  cui  il  libro  era  capace2,'  Mariette  had  come  gradually  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  was  hardly  important  enough  to  give  to  a  French 
public. 

The  manuscript,  consisting  of  three  quarto  volumes,  is  in  the 
possession  of  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale3.  It  bears  no  date,  but  as 
we  know  from  the  letter  to  Bottari  already  referred  to,  Mariette  set 
to  work  almost  immediately  after  the  appearance  of  the  Anecdotes  and 
had  practically  completed  his  translation  in  1764,  though  as  late  as 
1770  he  was  still  revising  it4.  The  text  used  by  him  is  that  of  the 
first  edition  (1762-3),  but  he  compared  it  afterwards  carefully  with 
that  of  the  second  (1765).  Walpole's  notes  are  expanded,  inexactitudes 

1  Walpole,  Letters,  edited  by  Mrs  Paget  Toynbee,  vi,  332.     Some  years  later,  when 
Mariette's  health  began  to  fail  very  seriously,  Walpole  at  once  bethought  himself  of  the 
miniature,  and  even  before  the  death  of  Mariette,  Madame  du  Deffand,  acting  on  Walpole's 
instructions,  tried  to  secure  the  promise  of  the  miniature  from  his  heirs  presumptive,  but 
unsuccessfully.    From  that  time  onward  until  the  general  sale  of  Mariette's  property  there 
is  hardly  a  letter  of  Madame  du  Deffand's  that  does  not  mention  the  miniature.     Walpole 
was  in  Paris  a  short  time  before  the  sale  and  would  fain  have  stayed  on  for  it.     '  The 
tempter  took  me  up  into  a  mountain,'  he  writes  to  the  Countess  of  Ossory  on  the  3rd  of 
October,  1775,  '  and  showed  me  all  Mariette's  collection  of  prints  and  drawings  which  are 
to  be  sold  in  November  and  offered  me  the  choice  of  them  if  I  would  stay.     I  resisted  and 
prefer  myself  infinitely  to  Scipio  :  he  might  have  had  fifty  other  women ;  but  where  is 
there  another  room  full  of  Raphaels,   Corregios,   Parmegianos  and  Michael  Angelos?' 
(Letters,  ix,  259).     He  returned  to  England,  but  described  himself  as   'mightily  busy 
about  Mariette's  sale'  where,  as  he  admitted,  he  had  been  'so  lucky  as  to  ruin  himself.' 
Amongst  other  treasures  the  coveted  Madame  d'Olonne  passed  into  his  possession,  at 
a  price  which  caused  Madame  du  Deffand  to  remark  that  he  had  paid  dearer  for  her  than 
any  of  her  lovers  did  in  her  lifetime.     (Walpole,  Letters,  ix,  303.) 

2  Botturi,  Raccolta  di  Lettere  sulla  Pittura,  etc.     Borne  1764,  Vol.  iv,  p.  390,  a  letter 
dated  Aug.  3rd,  1764. 

a  Anecdotes  conccrnant  I'Etat  de  la  Peinture  en  Angleterre...pa,v  Mr  Horace  Walpole, 
traduites  en  Frangois  et  augmentees  de  quelques  notes  critiques  par  M1'  P.  S.  Mariette. 
(Title  pa«e  of  Vol.  n.)  Bibliotheque  nationale,  manuscrits  francais  14650-52. 

4  Muriette  was  in  the  habit  of  writing  notes  on  odd  pieces  of  paper,  on  the  backs  of 
letters  for  instance,  and  one  such  letter  dated  1770  is  fastened  into  the  first  volume. 

-M     L.   R.  IX.  34 


522  Miscellaneous  Notes 

are  carefully  pointed  out,  nor  does  Mariette  spare  remarks  such  as 
'M.  Walpole  raisonne  ici  fort  mal1'  or  '  Que  de  paroles  pour  ne  rien 
prouver2.'  A  very  curious  note  is  to  be  found  at  the  end  of  the  first 
volume.  'Monsieur  Walpole  termine  son  premier  volume.. .par  quel- 
ques  notices  d'architectes  et  d'ouvrages  qui  ont  ete  fait  pour  lors  dans 
des  Colleges  a  Cambridge.  II  s'^tend  principalement  sur  quelques 
parties  d'edifices  qu'un  architecte  nomine  Theodore  Havens... a vait 
construit  entre  les  annees  1566  et  1573  dans  le  College  de  Caius  et 
Gonville.  II  en  fait  une  description  tres  detaillee  et  qui  ne  donne 
nullement  envie  de  connoitre  de  plus  pres  des  morceaux  d'architecture 

ou  regne  un  gout  barbare  et  miserable Je  n'ai  pu  me  resoudre  a 

traduire  cet  endroit  de  son  livre3/ 

Into  the  first  volume  Mariette  fastened — and  it  is  this  that  will 
interest  the  English  reader  most — a  short  autograph  note  from  Walpole, 
not  included  in  the  late  Mrs  Paget  Toynbee's  edition  of  Walpole's 
Letters. 

Monsr  Walpole  est  tres  mortifik  de  quitter  Paris  sans  avoir  eu  la  satisfaction  de 
voir  son  bon  Ami  Monsieur  Mariette.  M.  Walpole  le  prie  de  vouloir  bien  accepter 
ces  estampes  ajoutees  a  la  nouvelle  Edition  de  ses  Anecdotes,  etc.,  et  surtout,  le 
conjure  de  lui  conserver  son  Amitie4. 

It  is  impossible  to  date  this  note  exactly ;  as  it  was  written  shortly 
before  one  of  Walpole's  departures  from  Paris,  we  have  the  choice  of 
the  following  dates:  April,  1766,  October,  1767,  October,  1769  and 
September,  1771.  The  last  time  he  left  Paris,  in  October,  1775, 
Mariette  was  no  longer  alive.  One  of  the  earlier  dates  would  seem 
most  likely. 

The  Bibliotheque  Nationale  also  possesses  a  manuscript  translation 
of  Walpole's  Historic  Doubts  on  the  Life  and  Reign  of  King  Richard 
the  Third6,  not  by  Mariette,  of  course,  but  perhaps  a  short  mention  may 
be  made  of  it  here  at  the  same  time.  It  is  anonymous.  The  '  Epitre 
Dedicatoire '  is  not  without  interest. 

A  Madame  *  *  * 

Cette  traduction  fut  eritreprise  par  vos  ordres,  1'hommage  vous  en  est  du. 
Honteuse,  disiez  vous,  qu'aucun  frangois  n'eut  songd  k  faire  connoitre  a  notre 
nation  ce  chef  d'oeuvre  d'un  des  plus  beaux  esprits  de  1'angleterre,  cet  ouvrage 

1  MS.  fr.  14650,  p.  89. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  27. 

3  Of.  the  indignation  with  which  Mariette  tells  Bottari  that  Walpole  prefers  West- 
minster Abbey  to  St  Peter's.     (Bottari,  iv,  390.) 

4  MS.  fr.  14650.     At  the  foot  of  the  page  Mariette  has  written  '  Billet  autographe. 
J.P.M.' 

6  MS.  fr.  14647.     Doutes  historiques  sur  la  vie  et  le  regne  de  Richard  III. 


Miscellaneous  Notes  523 

unique  en  son  espece,  qui  bien  qu'empreint  en  plusieurs  endroits  du  sceau  du 
paradoxe,  decele  k  chaque  instant  la  vivacite  du  ge*nie  et  la  profondeur  de  1'erudition 
de  son  illustre  Auteur,  vous  m'ordonnates  de  la  faire  passer  dans  notre  langue.  J'ai 
obei,  Madame,  et  j'ose  vous  presenter  cette  copie  bien  foible  aupres  de  son  .original, 
mais  qui,  je  1'espSre  au  moins,  ne  vous  semblera  pas  infidele.  II  m'eut  e"t^  bien 
flatteur  de  pouvoir  mettre  votre  nom  a  la  te"te  ;  votre  genie,  votre  sagacite",  cette 
vaste  etendue  de  connoissances  que  votre  modestie  cherche  en  vain  a  deVober, 
eussent  impose  silence  &  la  critique.  Vous  n'avez  pas  daigne  m'accorder  tant  de 
gloire,  je  n'ose  pretendre  k  cette  approbation  que  vous  ne  de'cernez  qu'au  vrai  talent, 
heureux  du  moins  si  j'obtiens  votre  indulgence. 

Madame  *  *  *  is  beyond  doubt  Madame  du  Deffand.  As  soon  as 
Madame  du  Deffand  had  got  hold  of  Walpole's  Historic  Doubts,  she 
cast  about  for  a  person  capable  of  translating  '  Richard.'  '  M.  Mallet, 
Genevois '  or  a  certain  Madame  de  Meinieres  seemed  to  her  most  suit- 
able ;  a  M.  de  Montigny  was  anxious  to  undertake  the  work,  but  Madame 
du  Deffand  had  her  doubts  as  to  his  qualifications ;  at  one  time  she 
thought  of  Wiart,  her  own  secretary;  some  one  proposed  'un  nomme 
M.  Suard1,'  but  we  do  not  know  who  was  finally  charged  with  the  task. 
It  is  characteristic  of  Madame  du  Deffand  that  she  refused  to  have  her 
name  appear  in  the  Epitre  dedicatoire.  When  Walpole  wished  to  name 
her  in  the  Epitre  de'dicatoire  of  his  edition  of  the  Memoires  de  Grammont, 
she  replied,  '  II  suffit  qu'on  me  devine,  en  voila  assez  pour  ma  gloire2.' 

RUTH  CLARK. 
WATFORD,  HERTS. 


'SOLIMAN   AND   PERSEDA.' 

The  anonymous  Tragedie  of  Soliman  and  Perseda,  wherein  is  laide 
open  Love's  Constancy,  Fortune's  Inconstancy,  and  Death's  Triumphs 
printed,  without  date,  in  1599,  but  probably  performed  before  November 
20,  1592,  when  a  play  of  similar  title  was  entered  at  Stationers'  Hall, 
has  aroused  much  speculation  ever  since  the  days  when  Hawkins  con- 
jectured it  was  the  work  of  Thomas  Kyd.  Prof.  Boas  endorses  that 
view  and  includes  the  play  in  his  recension  of  Kyd's  works.  My 
purpose  in  writing  this  note  is  to  point  out  certain  features  in  the 
construction  of  the  piece  which  clearly  indicate,  not  only  that  it  was 
designed  for  private  performance,  but  could  not  have  been  presented  in 
any  Elizabethan  theatre.  In  Act  I,  3  a  scene  of  deftly  '  stage-managed ' 
tilting  takes  place,  with  interspersed  dialogue.  Probably  hobby-horses 
were  employed.  This  scene  evidently  took  place  on  the  floor  of  a  hall, 
not  on  the  stage  of  a  theatre.  While  on  the  one  hand  we  have  no 

1  Mme  du  Deffand,  Lettres,  London  1912,  i,  pp.  358,  359,  379,  390,  391,  393,  etc. 

2  Ibid.,  n,  p.  380. 

34—2 


524  Miscellaneous  Notes 

record  of  the  yard  or  pit  of  a  playhouse  being  utilised  for  intercalated 
spectacles  of  this  order,  on  the  other  we  know  that  at  Courfc  tilting  at 
barriers  was  a  favourite  device  and  that  in  the  masques  the  characters 
frequently  descended  from  the  stage  to  dance  on  the  floor  of  the  hall. 
Even  in  court  plays  this  latter  practice  was  occasionally  followed,  e.g. 
the  going  up  to  the  State  in  The  Arraignment  of  Paris. 

It  is  also  significant  that  no  doors  of  entrance  are  mentioned 
throughout  the  play.  Moreover,  certain  indications  point  to  the  fact 
that  scenery  of  the  Court  or  multiple  order  was  utilised,  and  that  it 
was  probably  set  on  stages  at  either  end  of  a  hall,  much  as  Daniel's 
The  Vision  of  the  Twelve  Goddesses  was  staged  at  Hampton  Court 
in  1604.  In  Act  II,  i,  after  'sound  vp  the  Drum  to  Lucinaes  Doore,' 
Lucina  at  once  speaks  without  entering,  a  sure  indication  that  she  was 
sitting  in  view  in  a  room  forming  part  of  a  multiple  scene.  Many 
parallel  situations  are  to  be  noted  in  Lyly.  In  the  last  act  a  built-up 
tower  was  necessary.  The  Marshal  ascended  this  and  flung  down  two 
dummy  bodies.  This  effect,  of  course,  could  have  been  procured  in  an 
ordinary  public  theatre,  but  it  is  curious  that  we  have  two  references 
to  '  the  tower '  in  the  last  scene  of  Old  Fortunatus,  which,  in  its  published 
form,  is  distinctively  a  Court  play. 

Even  if  all  other  evidence  were  lacking  I  should  unhesitatingly 
pronounce  Soliman  and  Perseda  a  private  play  on  the  strength  of 
two  directions  in  Act  I,  4 : 

Enter  Basilisco  riding  of  a  mule. 

Piston  getteth  up  on  his  asse,  and  rideth  with  him  to  the  doore,  and  meeteth 
the  cryer. 

These  are  not  ordinary  stage  directions.  The  use  of  animals  in  this 
way  in  the  theatre  was  sedulously  avoided.  Space,  too,  is  indicated, 
such  as  could  only  be  provided  by  the  floor  of  a  large  hall.  It  is  note- 
worthy, however,  that  beyond  the  constructive  method  and  the  corre- 
lative method  of  staging,  there  is  nothing  in  Soliman  and  Perseda 
to  indicate  that  it  was  a  Court  play.  Where  then  would  a  private 
performance  be  given  where  Court  methods  would  be  followed  ?  Un- 
doubtedly at  one  of  the  Inns  of  Court. 

In  the  History  and  Antiquities  of  the  Four  Inns  of  Court  published 
anonymously  at  Dublin  by  Henry  Watts  in  1780,  extracts  are  given  at 
p.  24  from  the  accounts  of  the  Temple  relative  to  the  routine  to  be 
followed  .  in  the  Grand  Christmasses.  Of  '  The  Banquetting  Night,' 
seemingly  New  Year's  night,  we  read: 

It  is  proper  to  the  Butler's  office  to  give  warning  to  every  House  of  Court  of  this 
banquet ;  to  the  end  that  they,  and  the  Irmes  of  Chancery,  be  invited  thereto  to  see 


Miscellaneous  Notes  525 

a  play  and  mask.  The  hall  is  to  be  furnished  with  scaffolds  to  sit  on,  for  ladyes  to 
behold  the  sports  on  each  side  :  which  ended  the  ladyes  are  brought  into  the  library, 
unto  the  banquet  there. — When  the  banquet  is  ended,  then  cometh  into  the  hall 
the  constable  marshall,  fairly  mounted  on  his  mule,  and  deviseth  some  sport  for 
passing  away  the  rest  of  the  night1. 

The  italics  are  mine.  They  seem  to  indicate  the  origin  of  Basilico's 
mule,  an  auxiliary  which  would  have  been  ready  to  hand  at  an  Inns  of 
Court  play. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  professional  players  were  employed  for  long  in 
these  festival  performances.  Under  '  Annual  Wages '  (ibid.,  p.  64)  we 
read: 

To  the  Stage- players  on  the  two  grand  days,  for  each  play,  10  1 20 1. 

But  of  late  these  are  doubled  and  receive  40 1.  a  play  (?). 

'  Of  late '  here  means  circa  1630.  ^ 

W.  J.  LAWKENCE. 
DUBLIN. 


A  TRAGEDY  OF  DIDO  AND  AENEAS  ACTED  IN  1607. 

Although  printed  as  early  as  1750,  the  record  of  the  tragedy  acted  in 
1607  under  rather  unusual  circumstances  does  not  seem  to  have  been 
noted  by  the  writers  who  have  discussed  the  various  English  dramas 
dealing  with  the  Dido- Aeneas  story.  Writing  on  June  8,  1607,  M.  de 
la  Boderie,  the  French  ambassador  resident  at  London,  thus  describes 
certain  entertainments  attended  by  the  Prince  de  Joinville,  Charles  de 
Lorraine,  during  his  visit  to  England  : 

'La  Reine,  un  de  ces  soirs,  le  vint  prendre  au  pied  de  son  logis, 
qui  repondoit  sur  la  riviere,  et  le  mena  sur  icelle  avec  trois  bateaux 
charges  de  musique,  ou  ils  demeurerent  quatre  ou  cinq  heures.  Le 
lendemain  se  fit  le  tournoi  prepare  pour  1'amour  de  lui :  il  s'y  porta  fort 
bien,  mais  non  tant  toutefois,  qu'il  ne  se  reconnut  de  la  faculte  de  son 
cheval,  qu'on  croit  lui  avoir  ete  donne  tel  par  les  Anglois  pour  diminuer 
de  sa  gloire.  Le  soir  le  Comte  d'Arundel  donna  un  grand  festin  ou  il 
se  trouva  avec  le  Roi,  la  Reine  et  force  Dames ;  et  a  la  fin  d'ici-lui  se 
presenta  une  Tragedie  d'Enee  et  de  Didon,  qui  les  tint  jusques  a  deux 
heures  apres  minuit.'  (Ambassades,  II,  263-4.) 

It  is  perhaps  impossible  to  say  whether  the  tragedy  mentioned 
above  was  written  especially  for  the  elaborate  entertainment  given  by 
Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Arundel,  or  whether  it  was  an  old  play  revived 
— Halliwell's  Latin  Dido,  acted  at  Cambridge  in  1564,  Gager's  Dido, 

1  Since  writing  this  note  I  have  discovered  that  these  instructions  date  from  1562.    See. 
Nichols,  Progresses  of  Elizabeth,  ed.  1788,  i,  p.  23. 


526  Miscellaneous  Notes 

acted  at  Oxford  before  the  Prince  Palatine  of  Poland  in  1583,  the 
tragedy  by  Marlowe  and  Nash,  or  the  '  dido  &  eneus '  mentioned  in 
Henslowe's  diary,  provided  the  two  plays  mentioned  last  are  different 
productions.  The  tragedy  referred  to  by  Boderie  could  hardly  have 
been  Right  wise's  Latin  drama,  presented  before  Wolsey  in  1532,  or  the 
interlude  on  Dido  and  Aeneas  recorded  at  Chester  (Hazlitt,  Manual, 
p.  64). 

T.  S.  GRAVES. 
DURHAM,  NORTH  CAROLINA,  U.S.A. 


REVIEWS. 

The  Baconian  Heresy :  a  Confutation.     By  J.  M.  ROBERTSON.     London  : 
Herbert  Jenkins.     1913.     8vo.     xx  +  612  pp. 

All  Elizabethan  scholars  will  welcome  and  should  read  this  book. 
We  have  long  passed  the  time  when  the  Baconian  theory  can  be  safely 
treated  with  Olympian  neglect  or  contempt.  It  is  like  the  camomile 
which  the  more  it  is  trodden  on  the  faster  it  grows  ;  haughty  abuse  and 
the  superior  smile  only  add  to  its  luxuriance,  for  they  give  it  the  air  of 
martyrdom ;  and  it  is  now  becoming  clear  to  sane  minds  that  the  weed 
can  be  destroyed  by  nothing  less  than  a  deliberate  and  laborious  attack 
upon  the  roots.  Mr  Crawford  was,  I  believe,  the  first  scholar  to  see  this 
and  state  it  explicitly,  when  he  wrote  in  1907,  'It  seems  to  me  that 
scholars  are  making  a  big  mistake  in  allowing  this  question  to  assume 
such  serious  proportions.  The  lie  ought  to  have  been  caught  up  years 
ago,  and  nailed  to  the  counter.'  But  though  he  followed  his  own 
precept  by  penning  an  ingenious  and  learned  proof  that  Bacon  was  far 
more  likely  to  have  written  the  works  of  Ben  Jonson  than  those  of- 
Shakespeare,  his  attack  was  not  sufficiently  direct,  and  owing  to  the 
circumstances  of  its  publication  could  hardly  have  obtained  a  large 
circulation.  Thus,  if  we  except  Canon  Beeching's  essay  in  reply  to 
Mr  Greenwood's  '  anti-Stratfordian '  thesis,  no  scholar  of  any  reputation 
before  Mr  Robertson  has  attempted  to  meet  the  Baconian  arguments 
and  (what  is  even  more  important)  to  examine  and  destroy  the  Baconian 
assumptions.  The  truth  is  that  mixed  up  with  much  that  is  absurd  in 
the  Baconian  case,  such  as  ciphers  and  the  like,  there  are  many  points 
which  are  extremely  telling;  that  the  orthodox  are  admittedly  at 
loggerheads  as  to  the  personality  and  attainments  of  the  Stratford 
actor  to  whom  they  attribute  the  plays ;  and  that  where  the  doctors 
are  disagreeing  among  themselves,  it  is  only  natural  that  the  man  in 
the  street  should  fall  a  victim  to  the  intelligible,  if  dogmatic,  assertions 
of  the  quacks.  Moreover,  it  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  the 
heterodox  in  this  matter  hold  a  monopoly  of  stupidity.  There  are 
fatuous  Shakespeareans  (let  us  assume  that  they  live  in  Germany  S), 
and  there  are  exceedingly  able  Baconian  treatises.  The  Shakespeare 
Problem  re-stated,  for  example,  by  Mr  G.  G.  Greenwood,  is  a  racy, 
plausible  and,  within  certain  definite  limits,  learned  volume,  which  has 
been  read  by  numberless  intelligent,  but  inexpert,  people  who,  finding 
no  consistent  and  lucid  exposition  of  the  other  side  to  counteract  it,  have 


528  Reviews 

either  become  Baconians  forthwith  or  have  been  left  in  a  state  of 
extreme  perplexity  of  mind.  In  these  days  of  ultra-specialisation  it  is 
impossible  for  any  but  the  few  to  be  Elizabethan  students.  When, 
therefore,  the  general  public  is  obviously  in  great  uncertainty  as  to 
what  it  ought  to  believe  upon  so  important  a  subject  as  the  authorship 
of  the  supreme  literary  productions  of  our  language,  when  a  man  like 
Mark  Twain  dies  a  convert  to  the  Baconian  faith,  it  is  surely  time  for 
Shakespearean  scholars  to  give  up  talking  idly  about  '  mental  aberration,' 
'  morbid  psychology/  and  '  madhouse  chatter/  to  step  down  from  their 
pedestals,  and  to  explain  their  case.  It  is  a  duty  they  owe  to  the  com- 
munity and  to  the  memory  of  Shakespeare.  All  honour  to  Mr  Robertson 
for  showing  us  the  way  ! 

Stripped  of  its  trimmings,  the  Baconian  thesis  rests  upon  the  fol- 
lowing simple  syllogism  :  The  author  of  the  works  of '  Shakespeare '  was 
demonstrably  a  man  of  great  learning  and  wide  culture ;  the  actor  from 
Stratford  came  to  London  an  illiterate,  or  at  best  a  half-educated  rustic; 
it  is  therefore  incredible  that  the  actor  should  have  produced  the  works. 
The  trouble  is,  as  Mr  Robertson  shows,  that  the  Baconians  find  their 
case  ready  made  for  them  in  the  writings  of  the  orthodox.  They  have 
only  to  draw  the  conclusion,  the  premises  have  been  granted  in  advance 
by  their  opponents.  Mr  Greenwood  for  example  takes  the  phrase 
'  Stratford  rustic '  out  of  the  mouths  of  Messrs  Garnett  and  Gosse,  is 
able  to  quote  both  Halliwell-Phillipps  and  Sir  Sidney  Lee  to  the  effect 
that  Shakespeare  left  school  '  unusually  early/  probably  at  the  age  of  13, 
and  can  then  turn  to  Churton  Collins  in  support  of  his  contention  that 
the  dramatist  was  an  accomplished  classical  scholar.  The  picture  of  the 
scholar-dramatist,  reading  with  facility  Latin,  French,  Italian,  and 
(Churton  Collins  would  add)  Greek,  deeply  versed  in  the  law,  steeped  in 
all  the  culture  of  the  Renaissance,  a  traveller  on  the  continent,  a  poet 
whose  earliest  productions  display  a .'  perfect  polish  and  urbanity'  which 
can  only  have  been  acquired  by  moving  freely  in  the  very  highest  circles 
of  society,  is  impossible  to  reconcile  with  the  other  picture  of  the  Strat- 
ford butcher's  apprentice,  with  an  education  less  complete  than  that  of 
millions  of  modern  elementary  school  children,  running  away  (either 
from  Sir  Thomas  Lucy  or  from  Anne  Hathaway,  you  may  take  your 
choice  which)  to  London  at  the  age  of  21,  except  by  falling  back  upon 
the  transcendentalist  formula  of  Coleridge  :  '  self- sustained,  deriving  his 
genius  immediately  from  heaven.,  independent  of  all  earthly  or  national 
influence.'  It  is  no  wonder  that  even  the  transcendentalist  Emerson 
'  could  not  marry  this  man's  life  to  his  verse ' ;  it  is  no  wonder  that  the 
Baconians  should  exclaim  in  the  name  of  common  sense,  though  with 
comical  Latinity,  aut  '  Baco '  aut  diaboius.  '  It  is  very  doubtful/  says 
Mr  Robertson,  'whether  the  Baconian  theory  would  ever  have  been 
framed  had  not  the  idolatrous  Shakespeareans  set  up  a  visionary  figure 
of  the  Master.' 

Before  the  Baconian  case  can  be  met,  therefore,  we  of  the  orthodox 
camp  must  set  our  own  house  in  order.  The  practice  of  writing  monu- 
mental 'lives'  of  Shakespeare,  resting  like  inverted  pyramids  upon  a 


Reviews  529 

tiny  collection  of  verified  facts  and  insecurely  held  together  by  a 
quantity  of  the  mortar  of  hypothesis,  must  be  discontinued ;  what  we 
do  know  about  the  life  can  be  set  out  in  two  or  three  pages  and  even 
then  the  interpretation  of  these  facts  depends -upon  their  relation  with 
a  million  other  facts  which  have  been  lost.  Next  we  must  make  up 
our  minds  on  this  question  of  the  learning  of  Shakespeare,  and  here 
Mr  Robertson,  both  in  the  volume  before  us  and  in  his  Montaigne  and 
Shakespeare  has  made  a  most  excellent  beginning.  One  hundred  and 
fifty  pages  of  the  later  work  are  devoted  to  the  problem  of  Shakespeare's 
knowledge  of  the  law,  wherein  it  is  shown  by  the  aid  of  a  wealth  of 
illustrative  passages  from  other  Elizabethan  playwrights  and  writers 
that  Shakespeare's  '  legal  phraseology '  is  mere  literary  commonplace 
which  can  be  paralleled  in  the  case  of  nearly  all  his  prominent  con- 
temporaries. Exactly  the  same  line  of  argument  is  adopted  in  regard 
to  Shakespeare's  alleged  '  classical  scholarship,'  and  Mr  Robertson  spends 
some  two  hundred  pages  in  setting  side  by  side  the  Shakespearean 
passages  which  Baconians  and  others  declare  to  be  direct  borrowings 
from  the  classics  and  similar  passages  from  previous  English  writers, 
thereby  demonstrating  once  more  that  Shakespeare  was  simply  drawing 
upon  the  common  Elizabethan  stock.  Following  the  same  comparative 
method  Mr  Robertson  then  makes  short  work  of  the  '  coincidences  of 
phrase  '  which  Baconians  find  in  the  writings  of  Shakespeare  and  Bacon, 
and  proceeds  to  push  his  victory  into  the  enemy's  camp  by  an  investi- 
gation of  the  vocabularies  of  the  two  writers,  which  leads  to  results 
quite  overwhelming  to  the  Baconian  case.  Finally  the  book  is  rounded 
off  with  a  chapter  on  '.external  and  circumstantial  evidence,'  which  deals 
with  such  problems  as  the  dramatist's  apparent  indifference  to  the  fate 
of  his  plays,  Jonson's  testimony,  the  second-best  bedstead,  the  poet's 
handwriting,  and  the  illiteracy  of  his  daughters.  The  volume  as  a 
whole  is  a  fine  combination  of  learning  and  common  sense,  and  should 
do  much  not  merely  to  check  the  spread  of  the  Baconian  heresy  but  also 
to  enable  Shakespearean  students  to  clear  their  minds  of  cant  and  to 
envisage  their  own  problem  in  its  true  proportions.  Mr  Robertson's  cry 
throughout  is,  'Back  to  Farmer,'  and  in  his  preface  he  pleads  with 
scholars  for  the  production  of  what  Farmer  promised  but  never  accom- 
plished, viz.  a  scholarly  annotation  of  Shakespeare's  text.  This  would 
involve,  of  course,  a  thorough  investigation  of  the  whole  question  of  the 
Shakespeare  canon.  Mr  Robertson  has  made  a  beginning  here  too,  in 
his  book  on  Titus  Andronicus,  and  there  are  welcome  indications  in  the 
present  volume  that  he  intends  to  go  on  with  the  task.  Certain  it  is 
that  until  we  know  what  Shakespeare  wrote,  it  is  impossible  to  generalise 
upon  his  personality  and  attainments  with  security ;  and  so  long  as  the 
entire  body  of  work  now  labelled  '  Shakespeare '  is  accepted  uncritically 
as  his,  so  long  will  there  be  a  foothold  for  Baconian  and  other  weeds. 

J.  DOVER  WILSON. 
LEEDS. 


530  Reviews 

Robert  Herrick,  Contribution  a  I'jStude  de  la  Poesie  lyrique  en  Angleterre 
au  dix-septieme  siecle.  Par  FLORIS  DELATTRE.  Paris:  Felix 
Alcan.  1912.  8vo.  xv  +  570  pp. 

At  the  close  of  a  review  of  Prof.  Moorman's  Robert  Herrick  in  vol.  VII, 
no.  iii,  I  mentioned  the  publication  of  the  above  volume.  By  one  of  the 
coincidences  that  occur  from  time  to  time  in  literary  investigation  the 
English  and  the  French  scholar  were  engaged  at  the  same  time,  and 
unknown  to  each  other,  in  a  detailed  study  of  Herrick's  life  and  poetry1. 
Their  volumes  are  planned  on  similar  -lines,  each  beginning  with  a  bio- 
graphical section,  followed  by  a  critical  appreciation.  But  Dr  Delattre's 
is  on  a  much  more  comprehensive  scale,  extending  to  five  hundred 
closely  printed  pages  of  text,  followed  by  some  fifty  pages  of  appendix. 

Such  a  massive  commentary  may  well  cause  searchings  of  heart  to 
even  the  most  devout  lover  of  Herrick.  It  seems  inevitable  that  his 
lyrical  genius  should  be  buried  beneath  the  immensa  moles  of  this 
critical  superstructure,  and  it  is  a  tribute  to  Dr  Delattre's  literary  art 
and  insight  that  this  does  not  happen.  Nevertheless  the  work  would 
have  gained  from  compression.  Its  author  while  writing  primarily  for 
the  professional  student  of  letters  has  apparently  aimed  also  at  the 
capture  of  '  the  general  reader.'  Doubtless  there  is  a  more  widespread 
interest  in  France  than  in  England  in  questions  of  literary  style  and 
interpretation,  but  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  even  across  the  Channel 
there  will  be  many  readers  of  so  minute  and  learned  a  study  of  Herrick 
who  are  not  already  familiar  with  the  general  outlines  of  English  literary 
history  and  with  the  conditions  of  life  in  England  under  the  Stuarts. 
Dr  Delattre  would  therefore  have  been  better  advised  to  omit  such 
passages  as  the  descriptions  of  life  in  Cheapside  and  in  Cambridge, 
of  the  revels  at  the  Mermaid  tavern,  or  the  mischances  on  the  Isle 
of  Rhe  expedition.  In  the  chapter,  running  to  sixty  pages,  on  Les 
Femmes  et  V Amour  it  was  unnecessary  to  give  an  account  of  the  treat- 
ment of  the  subject  by  all  the  seventeenth  century  lyrists  from  Donne 
and  Drummond  to  Dorset  and  Rochester.  Such  instances  might  be 
multiplied.  We  are  too  often  in  danger  of  not  being  able  to  see  the 
wood  for  the  trees. 

Another  unfortunate  result  of  the  double  appeal  of  the  work  is  that, 
as  a  rule,  the  extracts  from  contemporary  books  or  documents,  and  even 
from  Herrick's  own  poems  are  given  in  a  French  translation2.  Where 
is  the  Frenchman  bold  enough  to  attack  this  formidable  volume  who  is 
yet  unable  to  read  one  of  Herrick's  letters  from  Cambridge  in  their 
original  language  ?  And  how  will  he  learn  the  secret  of  Herrick's 
fascination  when  '  When  as  in  silks  my  Julia  goes '  is  disguised  thus  ? 

Quand  Julie  s'avance  en  robe  de  sole, 
comme  j'aime  k  voir  couler,  si  exquise, 
la  fluidit^  de  son  vehement ; 

1  Prof.  Moorman's  work,  however,  was  published  in  time  for  Dr  Delattre  to  make 
a  number  of  references  to  it  in  the  notes  to  his  volume. 

2  Some  of  the  documents,  however,  are  reproduced  in  English  in  Appendix  A. 


Reviews  531 

et  puis,  tandis  que  mon  regard  se  pose 
sur  la  robe  qui  fremit  et  s'elance, 
6  1'enchantement  de  cette  lumiere ! 

This  is  an  example  of  the  '  methode  un  peu  speciale '  by  which  Dr 
Delattre  turns  the  lyrics  into  a  '  moyen  terme '  between  prose  and  verse. 
'  Nous  avons  traduit  en  prose  1'ceuvre  de  Herrick,  afin  de  conserver  la 
souplesse  precise  qu'on  est  en  droit  d'attendu  d'une  version  litterale, 
mais  nous  avons  essay  e  de  sauvegarder  un  peu  du  rythme  de  1'original, 
nous  confiant  a  la  mysterieuse  vertu  du  metre.'  All  this  is  worse  than 
wasted  labour.  It  presents  Herrick  to  the  foreigner  through  a  distorting 
medium,  and  it  is  a  stumbling-block  to  the  English  reader.  If  the  book 
reaches  a  second  edition  (as  it  well  deserves),  I  strongly  advise  the 
author  to  throw  his  translations  overboard  and  to  substitute  the  original 
text.  He  need  not  seek  a  wider  public  than  those  who  can  read  the 
poems  as  they  were  written. 

For  his  volume,  in  spite  of  the  drawbacks  mentioned,  is  a  work  of 
genuine  scholarship  and  charm.  The  author  has  left  nothing  undone 
to  equip  himself  for  his  task.  He  has  searched  for  biographical  material 
in  the  archives  of  London,  Cambridge,  and  Exeter.  He  spent  some 
time  at  the  Rectory  of  Dean  Prior,  and  extracts  from  the  Parish 
Register  are  given  in  an  Appendix.  Though  his  industry  has  not 
been  rewarded  by  any  'find'  of  great  importance,  he  has  succeeded 
in  adding  something  to  the  documentary  evidences.  Thus  he  quotes 
(pp.  15-16  and  511)  from  Dasent's  Acts  of  the  Privy  Council  (New  Series, 
xxin,  290-1)  a  letter  from  the  Council  to  the  Lord  Mayor  relative  to 
the  death  of  Nicholas  Herrick  which  has  hitherto  been  unnoticed  by 
biographers.  He  reproduces  in  its  correct  form  (proving  that  the 
Crown  was  the  patron  on  the  occasion)  the  docquet  in  the  Record 
Office  concerning  the  poet's  presentation  to  the  living  of  Dean  Prior 
(pp.  83  and  514).  Grosart  and  Prof.  Moorman  both  give  an  inaccurate 
version  of  the  document.  And  further  he  prints  (pp.  111-12  and  515-16) 
a  petition  by  Herrick  in  1660,  that  he  has  discovered  among  the  House 
of  Lords  MSS.,  praying  that  the  '  Ty thes,  Glebes  and  all  other  profitts ' 
of  Dean  Prior  Rectory  may  be  '  secured  &  sequestred '  till  he  can 
'  prove  his  Tytle  by  Lawe.' 

In  another  discovery  (as  he  hoped  it  would  prove)  Dr  Delattre  was 
anticipated  by  Prof.  Moorman.  This  is  the  document  in  which  '  Mr 
Dell's  man '  insinuates  that  Herrick  was  the  father  of  Thomasin  Parson's 
illegitimate  child.  But  Dr  Delattre  gives  us  the  reference  for  it  which 
Prof.  Moorman  (as  I  pointed  out)  unaccountably  omitted.  It  is  no.  77 
in  vol.  474  of  '  Domestic  State  Papers,  Charles  I.'  Indeed  one  of  the 
greatest  merits  of  Dr  Delattre's  volume  throughout  is  the  fullness  and 
precision  of  its  references.  The  same  exact  scholarship  and  painstaking 
research  are  displayed  in  the  Appendixes  which  deal  with  the  musical 
settings  of  the  lyrics,  with  Herrick's  metres,  and  with  his  bibliography. 
There  seems  to  be  nothing  ever  written  about  Herrick,  however  fugitive 
or  inaccessible,  that  has  not  been  read  and  noted  by  his  French  critic. 

Nor  has  Dr  Delattre  been  less  indefatigable  in  his  quest  of  the 


532  Reviews 

sources  of  the  poems.  Here,  as  he  acknowledges,  he  has  profited  by 
the  labours  of  Grosart,  Mr  A.  W.  Pollard,  and  other  editors.  But  in 
his  chapter  on  'Limitation  chez  Herrick,'  he  has  systematised  the 
results  of  previous  research  and  has  added  fresh  material.  Thus  he 
shows  that  several  of  the  lyrics,  e.g.  The  Cruell  Maid  and  The  Cheat  of 
Cupid,  though  they  are  adaptations  from  the  Greek,  are  based  not  upon 
the  originals  but  on  Latin  versions  by  J.  A.  de  Baif  and  Henri  Estienne. 
The  influence  of  the  two  Renaissance  erotic  poets,  Jean  Second  and 
Jean  de  Bonnefon,  is  traced  in  some  detail.  On  the  other  hand  in  a 
long  and  interesting  footnote  to  pp.  407-10  Dr  Delattre  contends  that 
the  debt  of  Herrick  to  Ovid  and  to  Catullus  has  been  much  exaggerated. 
Prof.  Moorman  did  not  accept  without  reserve  Lowell's  description  of 
Herrick  as  '  the  most  Catullian  of  poets  since  Catullus ' ;  the  French 
critic  repudiates  it  as  essentially  misleading.  This  is  true  so  far  as 
their  love  lyrics  are  concerned,  but  Prof.  Moorman's  estimate  of  the 
general  relations  between  their  art  seems  to  me  the  more  discriminating. 
Nevertheless,  even  if  one  dissents  from  some  of  Dr  Delattre's  judgments, 
the  great  merit  of  his  chapter  on  Herrick's  imitations  is  that  he  does 
not  merely  hunt  out  sources  with  unwearied  zest,  but  shows  that  the 
Cavalier  poet  transforms  what  he  borrows,  and  is  essentially  an  original 
singer. 

Thoughout  his  volume,  indeed,  Dr  Delattre  makes  research  the 
handmaid  of  a  singularly  delicate  and  penetrating  critical  method.  He 
does  not  realise  fully  that  element  of  '  the  grand  style '  in  Herrick's 
poetry  on  which  Prof.  Moorman  has  some  illuminating  sentences.  He 
even  at  the  very  close  of  his  work  startles  us  by  denying  that  the 
subject  of  his  elaborate  study  was  a  'genius.'  But  his  interpretative 
analysis,  unfolding  itself  in  delightfully  supple  and  flexible  prose,  seems 
to  wind  into  the  very  heart  of  the  Hesperides.  He  does  not  flinch,  as 
so  many  critics  have  done,  before  the  '  re'alisme  cruel '  of  the  Epigrams. 
He  frankly  recognises  that  at  the  core  of  Herrick's  work,  with  all  its 
grace  and  charm  there  is  an  element  of  '  brutalite '  of  animalism.  'Ainsi 
le  poete  exquis...qtii  est  capable  d'exprimer  les  mille  variations  de  sa 
fantaisie  delicate,  n'eprouve  aucune  honte,  aucun  scrupule  meme,  a  nous 
decouvrir  les  tendances  les  plus  rudes  de  son  temperament.' 

These  'tendances  rudes'  are  not  confined  to  the  Epigrams;  they 
overflow  into  the  love-poetry  where,  however,  they  are  for  the  most 
part  transfigured  by  quite  other  elements  of  Herrick's  complex  tem- 
perament. 

Ayant  fait  a  son  animalite  instinctive  la  part  qui  lui  revenait  il  eprouve  le 
besom  d'embellir,  de  Fenjoliver,  de  1'afnner  surtout.  II  tient  &  corriger  par  1'iri- 
geniosite  de  son  imagination  et  de  son  esprit  la  simplicite  vehemerite  de  son  desir. 
De  sorte  qu'apres  s'£tre  montre  cyniquement  sensuel,  ce  poete  apparait  en  outre 
comme  un  sentimental  romanesque,  et  comrne  Tun  des  mattres  meme  de  la  coquet- 
terie  amoureuse. 

This  is  admirably  said,  and  throughout  his  volume  Dr  Delattre  is 
peculiarly  sensitive  to  the  paradoxical  union  of  opposites  in  Herrick's 
art  which  gives  it  a  place  all  its  own.  He  illustrates  this  not  only  from 


Reviews  533 

the  love  poems  but  from  the  poems  of  country  life,  the  '  noble  numbers ' 
and  the  general  characteristics  of  his  style.  Even  the  closest  students 
of  Herrick  will  find  something  fresh  in  his  sparkling  pages  on  these 
topics,  and  his  work,  taken  as  a  whole,  must  rank  as  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  contributions  by  contemporary  French  criticism  to  the 
study  of  English  literature. 

F.  S.  BOAS. 
LONDON. 


Poems  by  Sir  John  Salusbury  and  Robert  Chester.  With  an  Introduction 
by  CARLETON  BROWN  (Bryn  Mawr  College  Monographs,  vol.  xiv). 
Bryn  Mawr,  Pennsylvania,  1913.  8vo.  lxxiv  +  86  pp. 

Shakespeare's  enigmatic  poem  The  Phoenix  and  the  Turtle  first 
appeared  in  1601  in  a  sort  of  appendix  to  the  poem** Loves  Martyr, 
written  by  one  Robert  Chester  and  dedicated  to  one  Sir  John  Salusbury. 
This  appendix,  entitled  Poeticall  Essaies,  consists  of  poems  by  five  other 
hands,  Ben  Jonson,  Marston,  Chapman,  '  Ignoto,'  and  Shakespeare,  and 
contains  stanzas  addressed  by  the  '  Vatum  Chorus  'to  Sir  John  Salusbury. 
The  '  Phoenix  and  Turtle '  '  motive '  had  been  set  by  Chester  in  his 
own  poem,  and  it  reappears  in  the  poems  contributed  by  his  greater 
friends.  The  present  editor,  acting  on  a  hint  from  Professor  Gollancz, 
has  set  himself  to  discover  the  meaning  of  Chester's  Loves  Martyr  by 
investigating  the  family  history  of  Sir  John  Salusbury  and  Robert 
Chester,  and  in  the  light  of  the  meaning  thus  got  to  interpret  the 
poems  of  Jonson,  Shakespeare  and  the  rest. 

Grosart,  who  edited  Loves  Martyr  thirty-five  years  ago,  successfully 
identified  Sir  John  Salusbury  as  a  knight  of  Lleweni,  Denbighshire. 
He  also  pointed  out  that  to  Salusbury  '  Robert  Parry  Gent.'  dedicated 
in  1597  a  little  volume  of  verse,  Sinetes  Passions.  In  two  points, 
according  to  our  editor,  he  went  wrong :  first  in  supposing  that 
Robert  Chester  was  a  Robert  Chester  of  Royston,  Cambridgeshire : 
secondly,  in  seeing  in  Chester's  allegory  of  the  Phoenix  and  Turtle  a 
reference  to  the  relations  of  Queen  Elizabeth  and  the  Earl  of  Essex. 

Professor  Carleton  Brown  argues  that  Robert  Chester  was  almost 
certainly  connected  with  Denbighshire  rather  than  Royston.  His  main 
thesis  is,  however,  that  the  allegory  of  the  Phoenix  and  Turtle  in  Chester's 
poem  turns  on  the  marriage  of  Sir  John  Salusbury  to  Ursula  Stanley, 
natural  daughter  of  Henry  Stanley, ,  fourth  Earl  of  Derby,  and  Jane 
Halsall  of  Knowsley.  To  prove  this,  he  has  collected  new  facts  in 
regard  to  Salusbury 's  family-history,  and  he  has  studied  in  connexion 
with  Loves  Martyr  a  group  of  poems  appended  to  Parry's  Sinetes 
Passions  called  '  The  Patrone  his  pathetical  Posies  etc.'  as  well  as  the 
Christ  Church  MS.  184,  which  contains  a  number  of  poems  by  Salusbury 
and  Chester.  Both  the  latter  groups  of  poems  are  reprinted  in  this 
work.  One  regrets  that  Loves  Martyr  and  its  appendix  were  not  also 
included,  or  the  book  at  least  more  fully  described.  Grosart's  edition 


534  Reviews 

is  not  generally  accessible,  and  yet  to  understand  the  argument  of  this 
dissertation,  its  presence  is  essential. 

Professor  Brown  appears  to  be  right  in  connecting  Robert  Chester 
with  Denbighshire.  His  theory  as  to  the  interpretation  of  the  allegory 
appears  also  to  be  much  more  probable  than  Grosart's,  though  it  involves 
some  difficulties.  Sir  John  Salusbury  and  his  wife  had  several  sons 
living  in  1601,  and  several  more  had  died.  Accordingly,  as  Chester's 
poem  implies  that  the  Phoenix  and  the  Turtle  had  only  a  single  off- 
spring (a  daughter)  it  becomes  necessary  to  put  back  the  date  of 
composition  to  1587-8,  and  to  assume  that  the  allegory  had  lost  much 
of  its  point  by  the  time  when  it  was  published. 

Marston  in  1601  sings  the  praises  of '  a  most  exact  wondrous  creature/ 
arising  out  of  the  '  Phoenix  and  Turtle  Doues  ashes.'  In  this  creature, 
who,  he  says,  '  now  is  growne  vnto  maturitie/  we  are  again  to  see  Jane 
Salusbury,  and  to  understand  that  the  exigencies  of  the  Phoenix  and 
Turtle  allegory  led  Marston  to  single  out  the  daughter  to  the  exclusion 
of  her  brothers.  Shakespeare's  poem  is  left  unexplained:  here  the 
Phoenix  and  the  Turtle  are  not  merely  consumed  in  a  figurative  sense 
in  the  fire  of  wedlock,  they  have  actually  perished: 

Leaving  no  posteritie, 

Twas  not  their  infirmitie, 

It  was  married  chastitie. 

The  author  wisely  makes  no  attempt  to  reconcile  this  presentation  with 
the  fact  that  Sir  John  Salusbury  and  his  wife  and  a  numerous  family 
were  still  living.  There  are  difficulties  then  about  Professor  Brown's 
explanation :  none  the  less  it  is  a  serious  and  scholarly  attempt  at  the 
solution  of  a  difficult  little  problem,  and  the  poems  he  prints  are  in 
themselves  curious,  if  only  for  their  wealth  of  acrostics  and  for  the  warmth 
of  love  which  Sir  John  Salusbury  manifests  in  them  towards  his  sisters- 
in-law. 

Now  for  a  few  points  of  detail. 

p.  xv.  '  about  2  of  the  Clocke  in  the  astor  Dinnr.'  For  '  astor,'  we 
should  probably  read  '  after.' 

p.  xxxiii.  '  Faith  woemens  love  is  but  an  appetite.'  Is  this  a 
reminiscence  of  Twelfth  Night,  n,  4,  100  ? 

p.  xlii.  The  attempted  identification  of  '  Frances  Willoughby '  has 
little  to  support  it. 

p.  li.  Of  the  three  signatures  given  in  facsimile,  I  think  it  is  clear 
that  that  of  the  poet  is  in  a  different  hand  from  the  other  two,  and  this 
agrees  with  Dr  Brown's  argument.  I  believe,  however,  that  Robert 
Chester  of  Royston  on  this  evidence  was  the  Robert  Chester  who 
translated  De  Senatore,  and  that  we  have  not  to  do  with  three  men 
of  the  same  name. 

p.  Ixviii.  The  editor  ingeniously  turns  '  Honos  Liberalis '  into 
'lohon  Sallsberi.'  Perhaps,  if  there  is  an  anagram,  the  name  should 
be  'lohn  Sallsborie.' 

Professor  Brown,  as  has  been  said,  prints  the  English  poems  of 
Salusbury  and  Chester  given  in  Christ  Church  MS.  184.  In  my 


Reviews  535 

remarks  on  this  part  of  his  work  I  have  the  advantage  of  having  been 
permitted  to  inspect  the  Christ  Church  MS.  and  of  therefore  being  able 
to  suggest  a  few  ^corrections  of  his  text. 
p.  7,  1.  6.      '  6  thou.'     Read  '  6  then.' 

pp.  7,  8.  Poem  iv,  as  Professor  Brown  has  mentioned,  has  appended 
to  it  two  initials,  possibly  '  J.  S.'  much  flourished  over.  If  the  poem  is 
by  Salusbury,  it  seems  with  its  recurring  phrases  '  And  still  my  mistress 
slept,'  '  and  still  my  mistress  sawe/  '  and  still  my  mistress  hard/  etc.,  to 
have  been  suggested  by  Marston's  famous  passage  in  What  you  Will 
with  its  recurrent  'and  still  my  spaniel  slept.' 

p.  10,  Poem  VII,  1.  1.  '  selly.'  Read  'silly'  (I  think),  corrected  from 
'  hony.' 

p.  12  middle.  '  Once  did  I  soe.J  This  appears  to  be  the  reading  of 
the  MS.  But  should  not  '  soe '  be  '  see '  ? 

1.  2  from  bot.  'A  verteous  time.'  I  think  'time'  should  be 
'fume' (corrected  from 'sinne').  x 

p.  13,  1.  7.  '  Ingenium,'  etc.  This  is  written  in  the  MS.  as  an 
elegiac  couplet,  the  first  line  ending  with  'Amicos,'. 

p.  14,  1.  6  from  bot.     'is  his  armes.'     Read  '  in  his  arrnes.' 
p.  16  middle.     '  The  Honysuckle  hony  es.'     Read,  I  think,  '  honyes. 
The  sense  is  obscure  either  way. 

p.  17,  1.  4.     'in  this  kind  arte.'     Read  'in  this  kind  acte.' 
p.  22,  Poem  XV,  1.  1.     '  that  my  chaunce  doth  light.'     Read,  '  by 
chaunce.' 

p.  23,  1.  7.  '  Edoaurdus  <T  Otthen.'  Read  '  Edoauardus,'  and  perhaps 
'  d'  Otthez.' 

1.  7  from  bot.  '  Martius.'  So  the  MS.  But  should  it  be 
'  Msevius '  ? 

p.  24,  1.  9.     *  To  parte  his  hart.'     Read  '  to  perce  his  hart.' 
1.  17.     '  hoples  pine.'     Perhaps  :  haples  pine/ 
1.  21.     '  The  black  cloked  Syppres.'     So  much  of  the  line  has 
been  cut  off  on  the  MS.  that  the  reading  is  extremely  conjectural, 
p.  25,  1.  9.     '  Our  longing  thought.'     Read  '  thoughts.' 

1.  18.     'ramped  walls.'     Read  (I  think)  'ramperd.' 
p.  26,  Poem  xvm,  1.  11.     'My  thried  is  cate/     Read  (I  think)  'My 
thried  is  care.' 

p.  27,  Poem  xix,  1.  1.     '  where  faith  doth  neede/     So  the  MS.    The 
rime  seems  to  require,  however,  'jest'  for  'neede/     The  latter  word 
seems  to  have  been  suggested  by  'needs'  earlier  in  the  line, 
p.  29,  1.  11  from  bot.     '  scared  of  his  foes/     Read,  '  feared/  etc. 
p.  30,  1.  10.     '  to  enioy.'     So  the  MS.     The  sense  seems  to  require 
'  to  envy/ 

1.  15.  Professor  Brown's  line  (identical  with  1.  17)  is  a 
copyist's  or  printer's  mistake.  The  MS.  has  'Blest  be  the  tyme  his 
father  had  such  looke/ 

last  line.     '  sweete.'     Read  (I  think)  '  stowte.' 

p.  31,  1.  8.  'to  drolle  ame  I/  A  letter  after  'd'  has  been  deleted, 
I  think :  and  we  should  read  '  to  dolle  ame  I.' 


536  Reviews 

Does  this  stanza  contain  an  allusion  to  Nicholas  Breton's  Coridon 
and  Phillida  ? 

p.  32,  Poem  xxu,  last  line.  It  is  not  clear  who  is  the  '  Ane  Stanley ' 
whom  '  Danielle '  addresses. 

hot.     '  whose.'     So  the  MS.     But  '  who '  seems  required. 

p.  35,  Poem  xxv,  1.  1.  '  I[n]fausto  Herculeo  counctos  qui  robere 
prsestas.'  Read  '  I  fauste  Herculeo  counctos  qui  robore '  etc. 

p.  36,  Poem  xxv,  1.  2.  '  strange.'  So  the  MS.  But  the  rime  seems 
to  require  '  shines.' 

1.  4.     '  Craddna.'     Read  (I  think)  '  Evaddna.' 
1.  14.     'impolisd  [sic].'     The  word  is  clearly  as  here  printed, 
and  presents  no  difficulty  ('unpolished'). 

p.  39,  1.  6.  '  illius  at  quarto  mors  dolet  atra  vivo.'  For  '  vivo,'  read 
'  viro.' 

p.  40,  1.  11.     '  Owennwft.'     Read  '  Owenum.' 
1.  2  from  hot.     '  lector.'     Read  '  lector,'. 

p.  42,  1.  2  from  hot.  '  As  sacred  sisters  twayne,  mans  lyue  doyth 
twist.'  For  '  lyue,'  read  '  lyne,'  though,  apart  from  the  sense,  one  might 
be  uncertain. 

[I  have  neglected  very  small  points  of  spelling  and  punctuation.] 

We  come  now  to  the  Parry  volume  preserved  in  a  unique  copy  at 
Britwell.  Here  also  the  text  (presumably  that  of  the  original  book) 
seems  to  need  emendation. 

p.  47,  stanza  2.     '  inclines '  seems  to  stand  for  '  incline.' 

p.  48,  Poesie  I,  last  stanza.  '  though  hony's  taste  to  (query,  '  do ') 
please.' 

p.  56,  Poesie  ix,  1.  6.  'For  hue  [sic]  I  well.'  Perhaps,  'For  Hue 
I  will.' 

p.  58,  Poesie  xi,  1.  4.     '  With  spuemish  (query,  '  squemish ')  scorn's.' 

p.  61,  Sonetto  3,  1.  3.  '  with  valens  ring.'  Some  explanation  seems 
to  be  required. 

p.  67,  Sonetto  14.     '  Should  feare  pale  feare  me  forgoe  my  minde  '- 
query,  '  Should  feare  pale  feare  [force]  me '  etc. 

p.  76,  Maddrigall,  1.  2  from  end.     'trie  me,'  query,  'tire  me.' 

G.  C.  MOORE  SMITH. 
SHEFFIELD. 


Primitiae :  Essays  in  English  Literature.  By  STUDENTS  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF  LIVERPOOL.  Liverpool:  The  University  Press 
(London :  Constable).  1912.  8vo.  287  pp. 

This  is  a  volume  of  essays  on  various  writers  of  the  Romantic 
period  by  '  graduate  students  and  others,  who  of  late  years  have  worked, 
in  several  cases  as  teachers,  in  the  Department  of  English  Literature ' 
in  the  University  of  Liverpool. 

The  first  contribution,  by  Mr  Wallis,  is  entitled  '  Blake's  Symbolism 
and  some  of  its  Recent  Interpreters.'  The  interpreters  referred  to  are 


Reviews 


537 


Mr  de  Selincourt,  Mr  Arthur  Symons,  and  M.  Paul  Berger,  whose  books 
on  Blake,  at  least  in  so  far  as  they  are  concerned  with  his  mystical 
doctrines,  form  the  basis  of  this  study  which  is  largely  in  the  nature  of 
a  review.  Mr  Wallis  will  suffer  no  half  measures  with  his  author:  either 
Blake's  doctrines  must  justify  themselves  as  a  philosophic  system  at 
the  bar  of  reason  and  experience,  or  they  are  unworthy  of  serious  con- 
sideration. To  see  to  what  extent  the  general  body  of  symbols  can  be 
arranged  and  explained  so  as  to  effect  this  justification,  is,  we  take  it, 
one  of  the  author's  aims,  and  it  seems  no  disparagement  of  his  work  to 
say  that,  even  with  his  evidently  full  and  intimate  knowledge  of  the 
subject,  he  has  been  able  to  accomplish  little  more  in  this  direction 
than  has  been  done  by  the  more  even-minded  of  his  predecessors  in  the 
quest.  The  difficulties  are  so  enormous,  the  ground  on  which  an 
interpreter  must  work  is  so  shifting  and  uncertain,  that  any  attempt 
to  construct  a  coherent  system  out  of  the  unstable  materials  Blake 
supplies  must  almost  inevitably  prove  futile.  Between  1797  and  1804 
his  views  changed  fundamentally.  His  attitude  towards  the  merely 
phenomenal,  for  example,  underwent  considerable  modification ;  and 
his  position  in  relation  to  his  ethic  alters  from  what  is  neither  more 
nor  less  than  anarchy  to  the  exaltation  of  transcendent  love  and 
brotherhood ;  while  from  the  apparent  denial  of  a  Primum  Mobile  he 
passes  to  the  acceptance  of  a  beneficent  Providence  and  at  times  even 
approaches  Christian  orthodoxy.  Between  the  '  Lambeth '  books  and 
the  later  '  Prophecies '  there  is,  therefore,  a  wide  gulf,  and  the  bridges 
over  this  are  very  few  and  slender.  When  Blake  himself  tries  to  cross 
them  and  to  carry  his  early  symbolism  over  to  his  later  ideas,  as,  for 
instance,  in  the  Four  Zoas  MS.,  the  only  result  is  confusion.  The 
utmost,  it  seems  to  us,  that  any  interpreter  can  hope  to  do  is  to 
formulate  one  imperfect  system  out  of  the  earlier  books  and  another, 
as  imperfect,  out  of  those  in  the  later  group.  Even  this  cannot  be 
done  with  precision,  for  Blake,  as  the  author  tells  us,  often  uses  the 
same  symbolic  episode  for  many  purposes  without  regard  to  their  mutual 
consistency.  Mr  Wallis  does  a  real  service  to  students  of  Blake  by 
clearly  restating  the  problem,  by  tracing  out  certain  lines  of  develop- 
ment, and  by  making  many  valuable  criticisms  and  suggestions. 

It  is  with  a  sense  of  relief  that  we  turn  from  the  extreme  abstractions 
of  Blake  to  the  concrete  realities  of  Crabbe  as  displayed  by  Professor 
Holme  in  his  essay  on  the  treatment  of  Nature  in  the  works  of  that 
poet.  It  is  a  subject  about  which  there  is  not  a  great  deal  to  say. 
When  attention  has  been  drawn  to  Crabbe's  meticulously  accurate 
transcriptions  of  Nature's  minutiae,  the  absence  of  any  conception  of 
spiritual  life  behind  her  outward  forms,  the  mechanical  parallels  to 
human  conduct  which  he  draws  from  her,  the  narrow  limits  within 
which  his  observation  is  confined,  and  his  preference  for  grim  and 
dreary  pictures,  little  remains  to  be  said.  With  all  these  matters 
Professor  Holme  deals  in  full,  and  numerous  extracts,  chosen  from 
the  poet's  works  with  taste  and  care,  give  an  added  interest  to  a 
pleasant  and  useful  essay. 


M.  L.  R.  IX. 


35 


538  Reviews 

Miss  Birkhead  has  put  a  great  deal  of  careful  work  into  her  essay 
on  '  Imagery  and  Style  in  Shelley.'  Besides  showing  to  what  a  large 
extent  Shelley  draws  on  Nature  for  his  imagery,  she  tabulates  and 
illustrates  those  natural  features  like  sky  and  sea,  streams  and  islands, 
caverns  and  forests,  bright  light  and  iridescent  colour,  in  the  depiction 
of  which  this  poet  specially  excels ;  and  these  she  relates  to  his  general 
preference  for  what  is  fleeting  and  evanescent,  changing  and  impalpable. 
It  was  a  wise  thought  to  treat  of  Shelley's  imagery  and  style  together, 
for  perhaps  in  no  other  poet  does  the  one  depend  quite  so  much  upon 
the  other.  In  Keats  and  in  Coleridge  the  interdependence  is  almost 
as  close,  but  their  descriptive  styles  are  pictorial,  while  Shelley's, 
expressing  as  it  very  often  does  the  unsubstantial  and  aerial,  is  largely 
suggestive.  His  is  the  more  difficult  task.  Miss  Birkhead  collects  at 
intervals  in  her  essay  words  which  are  noticeably  recurrent  in  the 
various  types  of  Shelley's  descriptions.  We  suggest  that  she  might 
have  gone  a  step  further,  and  shown  how  much  he  relies  for  his  effects 
on  the  experiential  associations  of  these  words. 

Miss  Bradshaw  modestly  describes  her  contribution  to  the  volume 
as  '  Material  for  a  Memoir  of  Hartley  Coleridge/  but  it  is  much  more 
than  that.  Besides  a  full  and  useful  bibliography  we  have,  in  effect, 
a  memoir  itself,  some  sixty  pages  in  length.  It  seems  unfortunate  that 
the  unpublished  material  in  the  possession  of  the  Coleridge  family  has 
not  been  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  authoress,  the  more  so  when  we 
remember  that  with  the  exceptions  of  the  late  Mrs  Towle's  volume 
(1912)  and  of  the  article  in  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  no 
considerable  memoir  of  Hartley  Coleridge  has  appeared  since  that  by 
his  brother,  Derwent,  was  published  as  an  introduction  to  the  Poems 
in  1851.  Had  this  material  been  forthcoming  it  might  possibly  have 
supplemented  the  rather  scanty  information  we  have  concerning  the 
movements  of  '  li'le  Hartley '  between  1826  and  1832.  One  or  two 
slight  errors  have  escaped  the  vigilance  of  the  authoress.  '  Foxham ' 
(p.  146)  should  be  'Fox  How,'  'Coleridge's'  (p.  100)  should  read 
'  Coleridges/  and '  Wordsworth's '  (p.  109)  should  be  '  Words  worths'.'  Miss 
Bradshaw  is  to  be  complimented  on  a  thoroughly  good  piece  of  work. 

Morris's  Jason  was  originally  intended  for  inclusion  in  The 
Earthly  Paradise  and  Miss  May  Morris  in  the  preface  to  the  collected 
edition  of  her  father's  works  explicitly  states  that  as  his  authorities 
for  The  Earthly  Paradise  stories  he  used  only  'nursery  tales'  and 
works  of  reference  like  Lempriere,  with  occasional  hints  from  Ovid  and 
Apollodorus.  In  face  of  these  facts  it  may  seem  rather  daring  of  Miss 
Kermode  to  write  on  '  The  Classical  Sources  of  The  Life  and  Death  of 
Jason!  But,  as  she  points  out,  it  was  not  unnatural  that  Morris  in  his 
enthusiasm  for  medievalism  should  seek  to  minimise  his  knowledge 
and  appreciation  of  the  classics,  and  this  may  account  for  his  daughter's 
impression.  Miss  Kermode  accumulates  a  good  deal  of  strong  evidence 
in  favour  of  Morris's  considerable  indebtedness  to  Apollonius  Rhodius, 
Pindar,  Hyginus,  Ovid,  and  Apollodorus,  in  the  original  texts,  and 
adduces  some  very  cogent  arguments  in  support  of  her  thesis. 


Reviews 


539 


Mr  Dixon  Scott's  contribution,  entitled  'The  First  Morris/  is  a 
brilliant  and  illuminating  study  of  Morris's  early  poems.  In  a  style 
brimful  of  telling  metaphor  and  felicitous  phrase  the  author  lays  before 
us  a  conception  of  Morris  which  arrests  our  attention  at  once  by  its 
novelty  and  its  bold  disregard  of  the  conventional  view.  He  would 
have  us  believe  that  the  burning  directness,  the  aching  intensity,  and 
the  magic  spell  of  the  poems  in  The  Defence  of  Guinevere  are  there  in 
spite  of  Morris ;  that  what  the  poet  actually  wrote  was  not  what  he 
wished  to  write,  but  the  unconscious  distillation  of  all  the  clear-cut 
forms,  the  rich  colour,  and  the  intense  brilliancy,  which  he  had  met 
with  in  earlier  art;  a  kind  of  incrustation  of  pictorial  materials  un- 
knowingly pillaged,  which  he  had  torn  out  naked  from  their  settings, 
and  crushed  together  into  his  design.  We  have  got  into  a  habit  of 
complacently  regarding  Morris  as  a  born  medievalist,  and  Mr  Scott's 
view,  which  would  make  of  him  'a  man  of  undetermined  energy' 
surging  towards  symmetry  and  order,  gives  us  something**  in  the  nature 
of  a.  shock.  When,  further,  we  read  that  Morris  '  suffered  all  his  life 
from  an  utter  inability  to  tell  a  tale,'  we  jerk  ourselves  up  and  rub  our 
eyes.  Mr  Scott  is  an  eloquent  pleader,  and  whether  or  not  he  carries 
us  entirely  with  him,  we  must  give  his  work  the  unstinted  praise  it 
undoubtedly  deserves. 

The  volume  concludes  with  an  able  essay,  by  Mr  W.  T.  Young, 
entitled  '  Humour  in  the  Poets  and  Parodists  of  the  Romantic  Period.' 
Humour  is  a  quality  so  seldom  associated  with  the  Romantic  poets  that 
it  is  convenient  to  have  the  extent  of  its  occurrence  carefully  defined. 
This,  Mr  Young  does  admirably,  and  his  inquiry  is  preceded  by  an 
excellent  analysis  of  the  reasons  for  the  comparative  absence  of  humour 
in  the  older  generation  of  Romantic  poets  more  especially :  Wordsworth, 
Coleridge,  and  Shelley  were  too  much  in  earnest  to  observe  life  with 
that  detachment  and  tolerance  so  indispensable  to  the  humorist.  We 
have  only  two  suggestions.  The  first  is  that  among  the  parodists 
mentioned  in  Section  vi  Theodore  Hook  might  have  been  included, 
on  account  of  his  famous  parodies  of  Moore ;  and  the  second  is  that 
Mr  Young  in  his  illustrations  does  not  always  distinguish  between 
humour  and  wit,  some  of  the  examples  chosen  being  witty  without 
being  humorous.  The  two  qualities  are  closely  allied,  and  are  very 
often  found  together,  but  there  is  a  clear  and  generally  recognised 
distinction  between  them.  We  suggest,  therefore,  that  the  title  might 
be  with  advantage  changed  to  'Wit  and  Humour  in  the  Poets  and 
Parodists  of  the  Romantic  Period.' 


NORMAN  HEPPLE. 


GATESHEAD. 


35—2 


540  Reviews 


American  Poems.  Selected  and  edited  by  W.  C.  BRONSON.  Chicago : 
University  of  Chicago  Press  (Cambridge  :  University  Press).  1912. 
8vo.  vii  +  669  pp. 

American  literature  possesses  a  peculiar  interest  for  the  English. 
The  early  colonists  had  behind  them  the  same  tradition  that  inspired 
our  own  poets,  and  there  is  a  fascination  in  endeavouring  to  trace  the 
influence  of  environment  on  what  in  its  earlier  stages  at  least  is  our 
own  race,  and  noting  the  gradual  emergence  of  those  special  character- 
istics which  we  are  wont  to  term  American.  Much  of  the  earlier  verse 
is,  as  might  naturally  be  expected,  religious  or  didactic  in  tone — the 
work  of  men  exiled  for  their  faith.  There  is  an  almost  pathetic  sim- 
plicity and  ruggedness  about  it.  We  miss  the  fire  and  mysticism  of 
Vaughan  or  Crashaw,  and  the  sweetness  and  delicacy  of  Herbert  or 
Herrick,  but  the  stumbling  sincerity  of  those  unspeakable  paraphrases 
and  homilies  is  affecting  in  its  honesty.  We  entirely  believe  that  '  the 
reverend  and  excellent  Mr  Urian  Oakes,'  who  died  in  1682, 

1 —  an   Uncomfortable  Preacher  was, 
I  must  confess.     Hee  made  us  cry  Alass  \ 
In  sad  Despair.     Of  what  ?     Of  ever  seeing 
A  better  Preacher  while  we  have  a  beeing. 
Hee,  oh  Hee  was  in  Doctrine,  Life,  and  all 
Angelical  and  Evangelical 

but  while  we  sympathise  with  the  grief  of  his  flock  on  his  death,  we 
cannot  call  its  expression  poetical.  Anne  Bradstreet  ventures  on  a 
lighter  vein,  but  is  evidently  nervous  as  to  the  reception  she  is  likely  to 
meet  with : 

I  am  obnoxious  to  each  carping  tongue 
Who  says  my  hand  a  needle  better  fits  ; 
A  Poets  pen  all  scorn  I  should  thus  wrong, 
For  such  despite  they  cast  on  Female  wits: 
If  what  I  do  prove  well  it  won't  advance ; 
They'l  say  it's  stolen,  or  else  it  was  by  chance. 

There  is  a  curious  absence  of  that  quaintness  and  charm  which  mark 
contemporary  English  verse,  quaintness  which  at  its  worst  led  to  far- 
fetched '  metaphysical '  conceits,  but  at  its  best  is  delightfully  childlike 
and  attractive.  Rare  indeed  are  such  passages  as  that  taken  from 
Nicholas  Noyes' '  Prefatory  Poem  to  the  little  Book  entituled  Christianus 
per  ignem ' : 

The  thoughts  are  like  a  swarm  of  Sees, 

That  fly  both  when  and  where  they  please; 

Those  little  folks  both  work  and  play 

About  a  thousand  flowers  a  day. 

It  is  natural  that  the  more  artificial  English  poems  of  the  later 
seventeenth  and  earlier  eighteenth  centuries  should  find  no  parallel 
among  the  pioneers  who  were  making  their  way  amidst  a  thousand 
dangers  and  difficulties.  Life  across  the  water  was  too  stern  and  real  a 
warfare  for  men  to  write  poems  to  Fair  Amorets  and  Sacharissas.  Nor 


Reviews  541 

are  the  few  later  attempts  at  tragic  drama  very  successful.  The  blank 
verse  is  so  extraordinarily  blank,  and  the  hatred  of  England — natural 
enough  in  eighteenth  century  American  drama — occasionally  leads  to 
scenes  as  ludicrous  as  those  in  which  D'Avenant  depicts  seventeenth 
century  Spaniards.  The  Battle  of  Bunkers-Hill,  written  in  1776,  con- 
tains a  delightful  interview  between  the  English  generals:  'Boston.  The 
British  Army  being  Repulsd,  Sherwin  is  dispatch' d  to  General  Gage  for 
Assistance!  General  Gage's  answer  is  brief  and  to  the  point : 

Do  as  you  please,  Burgoyne,  in  this  affair. 
I'll  hide  myself  in  some  deep  vault  beneath. 

Our  thoughts  travel  to  another  stage  direction  :  '  Two  Spaniards  are 
likewise  discovered  sitting  in  their  clokes,  and  appearing  more  solemn 
in  ruffs — the  one  turning  a  spit  while  the  other  is  basting  an  Indian 
prince  who  is  roasted  at  an  artificial  fire'  (D'Avenant :^Cruelty  of  the 
Spaniards  in  Peru,  1658).  Both  show  a  patriotic  detestation  of  the 
national  enemy,  rather  than  tragic  dignity  and  reticence. 

The  feeling  for  Nature  shown  in  the  earlier  poems  is  akin  to  that 
which  inspires  the  'local  poets'  mentioned  by  Dr  Johnson.  There  is 
nothing  as  fine  as  the  best  of  Thomson's  work  or  as  vivid  and  vigorous 
as  the  great  passages  in  Cowper,  but  the  pleasant  easy  observation  of 
the  various  bards  has  the  same  mild  attractiveness  that  we  find  in  Dyer 
or  Shenstone : 

Beside  yon  church  that  beams  a  modest  ray, 
With  tidy  neatness  reputably  gay, 
When,  mild  and  fair  as  Eden's  seventh-day  light, 
In  silver  silence  shines  the  Sabbath  bright, 
In  neat  attire  the  village  households  come 
And  learn  the  pathway  to  the  eternal  home. 

(Greenfield  Rill,  by  Timothy  D  wight,  1794.) 

It  is  noteworthy  that  while  the  French  Revolution  inspired  some  of 
the  most  impassioned  verse  of  the  English  Lake  Poets,  the  American 
Revolution  apparently  produced  nothing  worth  calling  poetry : 

Squash  into  the  deep  descended 

Cursed  weed  of  China's  coast: 
Thus  at  once  our  fears  were  ended — 

British  rights  shall  ne'er  be  lost. 

may  be  a  truthful  account  of  the  Boston  incident,  but  the  poem  would 
be  more  effective  if  its  author  had  a  less  deeply  rooted  objection  to  using 
the  word  tea.  This  tendency  to  seek  fine  or  unexpected  phrases  also 
mars  some  of  the  later  work.  The  little  poems  of  Emily  Dickenson,  for 
instance,  not  infrequently  contain  a  pretty  idea  spoiled  by  an  affected 
eccentricity  of  diction : 

The  rose  did  caper  on  her  cheek, 
Her  bodice  rose  and  fell; 
Her  pretty  speech  like  drunken  men 
Did  stagger  pitiful. 


542  Reviews 

A  capering  rose  is  a  very  unattractive  flower,  and  prettiness  is  not 
usually  the  most  striking  quality  of  drunken  men.  The  next  poem  in 
the  volume  which  ends  with  the  picture  of  a  robin  'unrolling'  his 
feathers  and  rowing  himself 

...softer  home 

Than  oars  divide  the  ocean 
Too  silver  for  a  seam, 
Or  butterflies  off  bank  of  noon 
Leap  plashless  as  they  swim, 

leaves  the  English  student  of  Nature  hopelessly  bewildered.  Do  American 
butterflies  swim  ?  And  what  is  a  bank  of  noon  ? 

The  greater  part  of  the  anthology  is  very  wisely  devoted  to  the 
extracts  from  the  chief  American  poets  of  the  nineteenth  century- 
Bryant,  Poe,  Longfellow,  Emerson,  Holmes,  Whittier,  Lowell,  and  last, 
and  greatest  of  all,  Whitman.  These  are  on  an  altogether  different 
level  from  the  mass  of  minor  poets  whose  work  we  have  been  considering. 
Not  one  of  them  is  worthy  to  be  ranked  with  that  little  band  of 
immortals  whose  work  rises  above  all  limits  of  time  and  nationality,  but 
if  their  speech  sometimes  falters  at  least  a  coal  from  the  altar  of  poetry 
has  touched  their  lips.  It  is  easy  to  laugh  at  the  cheap  morality  and 
sentimentality  of  Longfellow  and  to  attribute  his  popularity  to  the  same 
early  Victorianism  which  placed  a  volume  of  Tupper  upon  every  drawing- 
room  table,  but  the  fact  remains  that  having  found  his  own  modest 
circle  he  lives  there  to-day,  whereas  Tupper  is  as  dead  as  Anna 
Matilda  and  the  Delia  Cruscans.  Emerson  and  Whitman  are  living 
forces  in  literature,  and  with  all  their  inequality,  their  lapses  into  the 
commonplace  or  the  grotesque,  no  one  can  deny  that  they  have  some- 
thing to  contribute  to  poetry  which  is  not  to  be  found  elsewhere.  They 
are  essentially  American  poets,  and  in  them  we  are  conscious  both  of 
the  gulf  which  has  gradually  widened  between  English  and  American 
thought  and  expression,  and  of  the  vast  poetic  possibilities  of  the  New 
World. 

Professor  Bronson  has  provided  full  and  interesting  notes  including 
(1)  'the  poet's  theory  of  poetry  when  this  can  be  given  in  his  own 
words;  (2)  statements  by  the  poet  or  his  friends  which  throw  light 
on  the  meaning  of  a  poem,  or  give  circumstances  connected  with  the 
composition  of  it;  (3)  explanations  of  words,  allusions,  etc.,  which  the 
student  may  find  obscure;  (4)  variant  readings  of  a  few  poems...; 
(5)  quotations  from  sources  and  parallel  passages  to  show  the  poet's 
literary  relationship...;  (6)  specimens  of  contemporary  criticism.'  A 
Bibliography  and  Indices  are  also  appended.  Altogether  the  book  is  of 
extreme  interest  and  value  to  the  student  of  American  poetry,  and  can 
be  cordially  recommended  as  a  careful  and  scholarly  piece  of  work. 

G.  E.  HADOW. 

ClRENCESTER. 


Reviews  543 

Grands  Bcriyains  Franpais  de  la  Renaissance.     Par  ABEL   LEFRANC. 

Paris  :    E.  Champion.     1914.     ii  -f  414  pp. 

Students  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  indeed  all  lovers  of  French 
literature,  will  welcome  this  collected  edition  of  the  notable  studies  on 
the  great  writers  of  the  French  Renaissance  which  M.  Abel  Lefranc  has 
published  from  time  to  time  during  the  last  eighteen  years.  They  are 
especially  welcome  in  this  country,  because  with  the  exception  of  the  last 
they  all  relate  to  the  early  Renaissance,  and  thus  they  will  help  to  dispel 
an  illusion  which  is  too  common  among  us  that  modern  French  literature 
begins  with  the  Pleiad.  Ronsard,  it  cannot  be  said  too  often,  owed 
much  to  his  predecessor,  Cle'ment  Marot,  and  the  first  of  M.  Lefranc's 
studies  distinctly  raises  our  estimate  of  that  poet's  character.  For  it 
shews  that  he  was  capable  of  a  deep  and  prolonged  attachment,  and 
that  in  spite  of  adverse  circumstances.  M.  Lefranc  has  made  it 
abundantly  clear  that  the  object  of  this  attachment,  the^Anne  to  whom 
so  many  of  Marot's  poems  are  addressed,  was  the  daughter  of  Charles 
d'Alencon,  a  brother  (born  out  of  wedlock)  of  Margaret  of  Navarre's 
first  husband.  It  was  in  May  1526  that  the  poet  fell  in  love  with  her; 
a  year  later  they  were  separated  (Epigram  xxn).  Then  after  an  interval 
Anne  returned  to  the  Court  (Epigrams  cxxxiv,  cxxxv),  but,  as  the 
years  went  on,  she  neither  married,  nor  decided  '  to  crown  the  poet's 
flame.'  Indeed  her  birth  made  this  latter  course  impossible.  But 
Marot,  who  is  generally  represented  as  a  fickle  lover,  was  as  true  to  his 
Anne  as  Petrarch  to  his  Laura.  This  is  especially  apparent  in  the  well- 
known  poem,  Adieu  aux  dames  de  la  Cour,  of  which  M.  Lefranc  cites 
the  greater  part1.  At  last  in  February  1541  Anne  married  Nicolas  de 
Bernay;  Marot's  romance  had  lasted  nearly  fifteen  years  and  it  only 
ended  three  and  a  half  years  before  his  death.  In  the  discussion  of  this 
episode  M.  Lefranc  throws  a  good  deal  of  light  on  Marot's  poetry.  He 
points  out  that  in  the  contemporary  editions  the  second  book  of 
Epigrams  is  dedicated  to  Anne,  beginning  with  the  epigram  addressed 
to  her  and  now  numbered  LXXX,  and  that  in  several  of  these  editions  it 
terminates  with  Epigram  CLI,  addressed  to  Anne  by  way  of  envoi. 

Pardonne  done  &  mes  vers  le  tourment 

Qu'ilz  font  dotme  :  et  (ainsi  que  je  pense) 

Ilz  te  feront  vivre  eternellement : 

Demandes-tu  plus  belle  recompense  ? 

Anne's  name  is  not  mentioned  in  the  Elegies  but  some  of  them  are 
certainly  addressed  to  her,  especially  the  beautiful  fifteenth  Elegy,  and 
to  this  M.  Lefranc  would  add  at  least  eight  others  (n,  v,  x,  xm,  XVI, 
xvii,  xxiv,  xxvi).  She  also  inspired  several  rondeaux,  above  all  the 
famous  Dedans  Paris,  ville  jolie.  Then  there  is  the  well-known  Epistle, 
one  of  Marot's  masterpieces,  which  Genin  discovered  and  printed  at  the 
head  of  his  edition  of  Margaret's  letters,  beginning : 
Bien  doy  louer  la  divine  puissance.... 

1  M.  Lefranc  accepts  the  traditional  date  of  this  poem,  which  is  October,  1537.  But  is 
not  the  real  date  October,  1534,  just  after  the  affair  of  the  Placards,  when  Marot  fled 
incontinently  from  Blois? 


544  Reviews 

Genin  believed  that  it  was  addressed  to  the  Queen  of  Navarre,  and  this 
view  was  generally  accepted,  till  Guiffrey  pointed  out  its  inadmissibility. 
But  he  could  not  discover  the  true  object  of  the  poet's  adoration,  and  it 
was  left  to  M.  Lefranc  to  restore  this  exquisite  portrait  to  its  rightful 
owner. 

It  is  to  Marot's  credit  that  the  story  of  his  love  for  Anne  d'Alengon 
should  form  an  appropriate  introduction  to  the  two  important  studies  on 
Platonism  which  between  them  fill  nearly  half  the  volume.  The  first 
of  these,  Le  Platonisme  et  la  litterature  en  France  a  I'epoque  de  la 
Renaissance  (1500—1550),  was  originally  published  in  1896  in  the  Revue 
d'histoire  litteraire  de  la  France.  The  second,  Marguerite  de  Navarre  et  le 
Platonisme  de  la  Renaissance,  which  is  considerably  longer,  first  appeared 
in  the  Bibliotheque  de  VEcole  des  Chartes  in  1897  and  1898.  Both  have 
been  revised  and  brought  up  to  date.  As  regards  the  introduction  of 
Plato  to  France  by  means  of  original  texts  and  translations,  there  is 
little  to  record  before  1550,  and  M.  Lefranc  has  said  pretty  well  all  that 
there  is  to  say  on  the  subject  (pp.  107-137).  I  will  only  note  that  the 
Christian  -name  of  the  Bishop  of  Seez,  of  whose  very  rare  translation  of 
the  Crito  M.  Lefranc  has  the  good  fortune  to  possess  a  copy,  is  certainly 
Pierre  (Du  Val)  and  not  Philibert.  The  latter  name  is  a  mistake  of  Du 
Verdier's1. 

During  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century  Platonism  in  France, 
as  in  Italy,  chiefly  meant  that  amalgam  of  Platonism,  Neo-Platonism 
and  Christianity  which  had  been  compounded  by  Marsilio  Ficino  and 
the  Florentine  Academy.  Among  its  developments  were  spiritual  love 
and  mysticism.  The  doctrine  of  spiritual  love  was  based  on  the 
Symposium,  but  it  was  largely  impregnated  with  Neo-Platonism,  and 
Ficino's  Latin  commentary  on  Plato's  famous  dialogue  was  the  starting- 
point  for  numerous  discussions  on  the  subject.  The  doctrine  became 
very  popular  in  certain  circles  in  France  and  gave  rise  to  a  celebrated 
poetical  controversy.  The  mystical  current  also  had  its  main  source  in 
Neo-Platonism.  Its  earliest  exponent  in  France  was  Jacques  Lefevre 
d'Etaples ;  it  was  he  who  inspired  Bishop  Brigonnet,  and  it  was  Brigonnet 
who  inspired  Margaret  of  Navarre,  in  whom  both  currents  meet.  But 
while  the  doctrine  of  spiritual  love  is  most  prominent  in  the  Heptameron, 
it  is  to  her  poems  that  we  must  chiefly  look  for  her  mystical  aspirations. 

In  dealing  with  Lefevre's  mysticism,  M.  Lefranc  rightly  lays  stress 
on  the  influence  exercised  on  him  by  Nicholas  of  Cues,  the  great 
German  forerunner  of  the  Renaissance  and  the  Reformation.  He  might 
have  strengthened  his  argument  by  pointing  out  that  Lefevre's  intro- 
ductory dialogues  on  the  Metaphysics,  which,  though  not  printed  till 
1494  (N.S.),  were  written  in  1490,  are  in  part  a  paraphrase  of  Cusanus2. 
From  this  time  Lefevre's  studies  in  mysticism  were  continuous  and 
extensive.  In  1491  he  read  the  Contemplationes  in  Deum  of  Ramdn 
Lull,  editing  them  in  1505.  In  1494  he  edited  the  Pimander  of 
Hermes  Trismegistus  in  Ficino's  Latin  translation,  adding  the  Asclepius 

1  La  Croix  du  Maine  gives  only  Pierre,  and  so  does  Gallia  Christiana. 

2  P.  Duhem,  Etudes  sur  Leonard  de  Vinci,  n  (1909),  103. 


Reviews  545 

in  1505.  In  1499  he  edited  the  writings  of  the  Pseudo-Dionysius,  and 
some  more  of  Lull's  treatises,  including  the  Clericus  and  the  Phantasticon. 
A  year  or  two  earlier  he  had  come  under  the  influence  of  John  Mauburn 
of  Brussels,  an  Augustinian  Canon  who  had  come  to  Paris  to  reform 
certain  abbeys,  including  that  of  Saint- Victor.  In  1510  he  edited  the 
Opus  tkeologicum  of  Richard  of  Saint- Victor,  the  learned  Scot,  who 
with  his  master  Hugo  helped  to  make  that  abbey  famous  as  a  school  of 
mysticism.  The  year  before  this  he  had  gone  to  Germany,  chiefly  to 
hunt  for  manuscripts,  and  as  the  result  of  his  researches  published  the 
De  ornatu  spiritualium  nuptiarum  (1512)  of  John  of  Ruysbroeck,  and 
the  writings  of  the  three  great  German  female  mystics,  St  Elizabeth  of 
Schonau,  St  Hildegard,  and  St  Mechthild1  (1513).  Then  came  his 
great  edition  in  three  volumes  of  Cusanus  (1514),  which  he  had  under- 
taken at  the  instigation  of  Bishop  Briconnet. 

As  M.  Lefranc  points  out  it  was  natural  that  mysticism  ^should  have 
affected  Margaret  of  Navarre  differently  from  Lefevre  d'Etaples.  He 
was  a  University  professor,  devoted  to  study  and  research ;  she  was 
a  woman,  curious,  sympathetic,  and  deeply  religious.  For  her,  mysticism 
was  an  intensely  personal  matter ;  it  satisfied  her  aspirations  towards  the 
divine.  In  some  excellent  pages  M.  Lefranc  sets  forth  the  nature  of  her 
mysticism.  Then  he  turns  to  the  Heptameron,  especially  to  the  charming 
conversations  which  serve  as  interludes  to  the  stories,  for  illustrations  of 
her  views  on  la  parfaicte  et  honneste  amitie,  as  spiritual  or  Platonic 
love  was  then  called.  He  next  examines  Margaret's  poetry  and  more 
particularly  the  volume  which  he  himself  edited  in  1896  under  the 
title  of  Dernieres  poesies.  It  is  especially  in  some  of  these  poems  that 
we  see  how  Margaret  under  the  influence  of  Plato  and  Plotinus  re- 
garded spiritual  love  for  the  creature  as  a  stepping-stone  to  love  for  the 
Creator2.  M.  Lefranc  notes  the  link  which  existed  between,  Neo- 
Platonism  and  the  Reformation,  especially  as  shewn  in  Lefevre  d'Etaples 
and  Margaret.  He  might  have  added  that  just  because  they  were 
mystics,  these  two,  of  whom  one  was  for  a  time  the  leader  of  the 
Evangelical  party  in  France  and  the  other  sympathised  -  strongly  with 
their  doctrines,  never  left  the  Catholic  Church.  Religious  forms  and 
ceremonies  meant  little  to  them,  for  the  aim  of  their  religion  was  con- 
templation of  the  Divine  perfection,  absorption  in  the  Divine  love. 

It  was  doubtless  from  the  same  cause  that  Charles  de  Sainte-Marthe, 
who  had  at  one  time  strong  Protestant  leanings,  and  indeed  suffered 
persecution  for  them,  remained  a  Catholic.  '  He  deliberately  attempted/ 
says  his  most  recent  biographer,  '  to  harmonize  Christian  doctrine  and 
classical  philosophy,'  and  it  is  in  his  Funeral  Oration  on  his  royal 
mistress,  Margaret  of  Navarre,  that  this  attempt  is  most  apparent3. 
M.  Lefranc  indeed  goes  so  far  as  to  call  it  '  an  authentic  summary  of 
the  Platonism  of  the  French  Renaissance.'  Certainly  nowhere  else  in 

1  In  a  volume  entitled  Trium  virorum  et  trium  spiritualium  virginum. 

2  See  Plato,  Symposium  210  A-212  c  (part  of  Diotima's  speech) ;  Plotinus,  Enneades, 
i,  vi  and  n,  ix,  767  D-769  A. 

3  Caroline  Kuutz-Eees,  Charles  de  Sainte-Marthe,  New  York,  1910. 


546  Reviews 

the  French  literature  of  this  period  do  we  find  so  complete  an  expression 
of  that  generous,  if  chimerical,  attempt  to  reconcile  Christianity  and 
paganism  which  started  from  the  Florentine  Academy,  and  which 
Raffaelle,  at  the  bidding  of  Julius  II,  illustrated  in  the  School  of 
Athens  and  the  other  pictures  of  the  Camera  delta  Segnatura1.  This 
development  of  Renaissance  philosophy  had  a  far-reaching  influence, 
and  to  it  is  largely  due  that  mixture  of  Christian  symbolism  and  pagan 
mythology  which  is  so  marked  a  feature  in  French  art  and  literature 
during  the  second  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  which  has  led  some 
critics  to  miss  the  essentially  Christian  tone  of  such  poems  as  Ronsard's 
Hymne  de  la  Mori. 

The  dangers  of  this  attempt  to  reconcile  paganism  with  Christianity 
were,  as  M.  Lefranc  points  out  in  his  exhaustive  study  of  the  French 
text  of  the  Institution  Chretienne,  foreseen  by  Calvin.  In  his  Excuse 
aux  Nicodemites,  the  date  of  which  is  1544,  not  1549,  he  makes  a  special 
class  of  '  those  who  half  convert  their  Christianity  into  philosophy/  and 
he  adds  that  some  of  these  '  fill  their  imaginations  with  Platonic  ideas 
concerning  the  way  to  serve  God,  and  so  excuse  most  of  the  foolish 
superstitions  of  the  Papacy  as  things  which  cannot  be  given  up2.'  This, 
is  clearly  aimed  at  Margaret  of  Navarre  and  her  Platonist  followers. 

At  first  sight  it  seems  a  far  cry  from  mysticism  and  spiritual  love  to 
the  author  of  Pantagruel.  But  between  M.  Lefranc's  studies  on  Platonism 
and  that  which  immediately  follows  them  there  is  a  real  connexion, 
and  the  link  is  furnished  by  the  controversy  on  spiritual  love  to  which 
reference  has  been  made  above.  For  this  controversy  was  part  of 
a  chain  of  events  in  the  literary  world  which  induced  Rabelais  to  lay 
aside  for  a  time  his  proposed  framework  of  a  voyage  round  the  world  in 
favour  of  a  theme  connected  with  the  great  Querelle  des  Femmes.  I  am 
surprised  that  M.  Lefranc  still  adheres  to  the  view  that  the  starting- 
point  of  the  controversy  was  Heroet's  La  Parfaicte  Amye,  for  it  is 
practically  certain  that  his  poem  was  printed  after  La  Borderie's  L'Amie 
de  Court3.  I  was  indeed  formerly  disposed  to  regard  it  as  wholly  inde- 
pendent of  the  controversy,  but  M.  Gohin  in  his  scholarly  edition  of 
Heroet  has  pointed  out  allusions  in  the  later  poem  to  the  earlier  one 
which  it  is  difficult  to  gainsay.  He  also  makes  it  clear  that  La  Parfaicte 
Amye  is  largely  inspired  not  only  by  Plato's  Symposium  but  also  by 
II  Cortegiano,  a  French  translation  of  which  by  Jacques  Colin  had 
appeared  in  1537. 

In  other  respects  M.  Lefranc's  admirable  account  of  La  Querelle  des 
Femmes  during  the  fifteenth  century  and  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth 

1  See  F.  X.  Kraus  in  the  Cambridge  Modern  History,  n,  4 — 7. 

2  Opera  vi,  col.  6()0. 

3  M.  Lefranc's  bibliographical  details  want  revision.     The  first  edition  of  La  Parfaicte 
Amye  is  evidently  Dolet's  (1542);  the  Troyes  edition,  of  which  M.  Lefranc  has  a  copy,  is 
a  pirated  reprint  of  this,  while  the  other  Lyons  edition,  that  of  Pierre  de  Tours,  is  in  turn 
copied  from  the  Troyes  edition  (Gohin,  pp.  Iv — lix).     L'Amie  de  Court  was  first  printed  by 
Corrozet  at  Paris  in  1542  (privilege  of  March  9,  1542,  N.S.),  secondly  by  Dolet  (the  epistle 
to  the  reader  is  dated  May  15,  1542).     The  date  of  Fontaine's  La  Conte  Amye  de  Court  is 
1542  (N.S.). 


Reviews  547 

leaves  nothing  to  desire1,  and  his  main  point  that  the  preparation  and 
appearance  of  Rabelais's  Third  Book  coincide  with  the  hottest  period  of 
the  feminist  battle  is  firmly  established.  The  martial  and  patriotic 
tone  of  the  prologue  makes  it  fairly  certain  that  this  was  written  during 
the  seven  or  eight  months  before  the  peace  of  Crepy  (September,  1544), 
when  Frenchmen  were  expecting  a  combined  attack  on  Paris  by  the 
Imperial  and  English  forces.  The  main  portion  of  the  book,  that  is  to 
say  from  the  sixth  chapter  onwards2,  must  have  been  added  during  the 
years  1544  and  1545  ;  in  the  autumn  of  the  latter  year  Rabelais  applied 
for  and  obtained  a  privilege.  M.  Heuhlard,  who  connects  the  prologue 
with  the  military  preparations  of  1546 — these  however  were  not 
important — believes  that  the  publication  of  the  book  was  delayed  till 
the  autumn  of  that  year.  But  this  is  a  quite  unnecessary  supposition. 
It  is  far  simpler  to  connect  Rabelais's  hurried  flight  from  France  in 
January  1546  with  the  appearance  of  his  book.  ^ 

With  M.  Lefranc's  view  that  Rabelais  shews  himself  in  this  book 
a  pronounced  opponent  of  women  I  cannot  agree.  He  supports  it  by 
a  long  quotation  from  Frangois  Billon's  Le  Fort  inexpugnable  de  I'honneur 
du  sexe  feminin  (written  in  1550,  but  not  published  till  1555)  in  which 
the  author,  an  ardent  feminist,  attacks  Rabelais  as  the  leader  of  the 
opposite  camp.  But  apparently  his  only  reason  for  this  view  of  Rabelais 
is  that  he  identifies  him  with  Rondibilis.  G'est  la  un  fait  precieux 
a  noter  is  M.  Lefranc's  comment.  But  what  are  the  grounds  for  this 
identification  ?  Is  not  Billon  arguing,  or  rather  thinking,  in  a  circle  ? 
Because  Rondibilis  expresses  antifeminist  sentiments,  he  identifies  him 
with  Rabelais,  and  then  having  identified  him  with  Rabelais  he  proceeds 
to  attack  him  as  an  antifeminist.  Finally  what  are  M.  Lefranc's  reasons 
for  questioning  the  traditional  view  that  Rondibilis  stands  for  Rondelet  ? 
With  much  better  reason  M.  Lefranc  rejects  the  old  identification  of 
the  poet  Raminagrobis  with  Guillaume  Cretin  in  favour  of  his  own 
tempting  supposition  that  he  represents  Jean  Lemaire  de  Beiges.  But 
it  is  surely  going  a  little  beyond  the  evidence  to  regard  this  as 
proved.  The  identification  of  the  theologian  Hippothadee  with 
Lefevre  d'Etaples  is  also  very  tempting,  but  I  have  not  seen  M. 
Lefranc's  exposition  of  it  in  Foi  et  Vie3.  As  for  Rabelais,  I  am  still  of 
opinion  that  his  attitude  towards  women  had  widened  since  the  publi- 
cation of  Gargantua,  and  that  in  his  Third  Book  he  tries  to  treat 
the  question  with  judicial  fairness. 

It  will  be  seen  that  M.  Lefranc  is  quite  justified  in  the  contention  of 
his  preface  that  there  is  a  definite  connexion  between  the  various 
studies  of  this  volume.  It  is  its  great  merit  that  it  attempts  to  trace 
the  development  of  ideas  during  an  important  period  of  French  thought, 
and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  author  will  one  day  fulfil  his  promise 

1  I  will  only  note  that  there  is  an  edition  of  Nevizano's  Sylva  nuptialis  of  1546  (Lyons) 
and  that  the  date  of  Bouchard's  feminist  treatise  is  1523  (N.S.). 

2  I  quite  agree  with  M.  Lefranc  that  cc.  i — v  were  written  some  time  before  the  rest  of 
the  book. 

3  1912,  p.  728. 


548  Reviews 

of  treating  these  questions  in  a  larger  work.  The  influence  of  Platonism 
on  philosophical  speculation,  the  revival  of  pagan  ideas  and  their  menace 
to  Christianity,  the  growth  of  a  higher  conception  of  the  relations  of 
men  and  women,  all  these  would  naturally  find  their  place  in  a  com- 
prehensive volume  on  the  influence  of  the  Renaissance  on  French 
thought. 

ARTHUR  TILLEY. 
CAMBRIDGE. 


Les  Comedies-Ballets  de  Moliere.     Par  MAURICE  PELLISSON.      Paris: 
Hachette  et  Cie.     1914.     8vo.     x  +  234pp. 

M.  Pellisson  complains  in  his  preface  that  Moliere's  comedies-ballets 
are  unduly  neglected  by  both  managers  and  readers.  Not  only  are  they 
seldom,  in  some  cases  never,  produced  on  the  stage,  but  they  are  either 
ignored  by  readers  altogether,  or  read  without  any  thought  of  the  music 
and  dances  which  accompany  the  dialogue.  I  am  afraid  that  as  regards 
the  majority  of  Moliere's  plays  of  this  class  M.  Pellisson  will  preach  to 
deaf  ears.  The  reason  is  that  in  most  cases  the  ballet  is  not  an  integral 
part  of  the  play.  It  serves  either  as  a  framework  or  as  an  incidental 
accompaniment  to  the  comedy,  which  is  so  good  as  effectually  to  over- 
shadow the  rest.  How  can  anyone  take  an  interest  in  the  ballet  of  so 
perfect  a  piece  of  work  as  Le  mariage  force'  ?  There  is  no  real  con- 
nexion between  Georges  Dandin  and  the  grand  divertissement  royal  in 
which  it  is  set,  nor  is  there  between  that  admirable  little  social  drama, 
La  Comtesse  d' Escarbagnac,  and  the  ballet  to  which  it  serves  as  an 
introduction.  In  Lamour  medecin  the  music  and  dancing  are  more 
intimately  blended  with  the  play,  and  there  is  something  to  be  said 
for  its  revival  with  these  accompaniments.  Even  out  of  the  four 
plays  which  by  a  little  stretching  of  the  term  may  be  called  pastoral, 
La  Princesse  d'filide,  the  unfinished  Melicerte,  Le  Sicilien,  and  Les 
Amants  magnifiques,  the  first  and  the  last,  especially  the  last,  are 
social  comedies  of  considerable  merit.  The  objection  to  their  revival 
lies  in  the  fact  that  they  are  comedies  galantes,  and  that  the  gallantry 
of  a  bygone  age,  if  not  supported  by  any  real  psychological  interest — 
this  applies  much  more  to  La  Princesse  d  Elide  than  to  Les  Amants 
magnifiques — is  always  insipid.  On  the  other  hand  Le  Sicilien  is 
admirably  adapted  for  representation,  music  and  all.  It  is  in  fact  a 
sort  of  opera  comiqne  written  in  prose,  and  its  charm  is  considerable. 
Le  Barbier  de  Seville  owes  much  to  it,  but  even  nearer  to  it  in  spirit 
than  Beaumarchais's  play  is  Rossini's  opera. 

M.  de  Pourceaugnac  is  very  different  in  character  to  Le  Sicilien, 
but  in  this  boisterous  and  delightful  extravaganza  Moliere  has  equally 
succeeded  in  blending  comedy  and  ballet  into  one  harmonious  whole. 
The.  ballet-scenes  at  the  end  of  each  act  take  their  places  naturally  as 
part  of  the  glorious  mystification  which  is  practised  on  the  unfortunate 
provincial.  In  Le  Bourgeois  gentilhomme,  which  is  the  only  one  of 
Moliere's  plays  that  is  called  a  comedie-ballet  in  the  original  edition, 


Reviews  549 

each  act  is  followed  by  an  intermede.  The  first  three  of  these  are 
merely  dances,  but  the  fourth  is  the  famous  ceremonie  turque,  without 
which  no  representation  of  the  play  is  complete.  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  see  a  gala  performance  at  the  Theatre  Fran9ais  in  1880, 
in  which  the  whole  company  took  part,  and  it  was  a  most  delightful 
entertainment.  I  have  also  a  clear  recollection  of  a  performance  at 
Eton  in  the  late  sixties,  when  Frank  Tarver  played  the  part  of 
M.  Jourdain  with  admirable  verve  and  humour.  As  for  the  ballet 
in  six  entrees  with  which  the  play  concludes,  I  doubt  whether  a 
manager  would  be  well  advised  in  giving  it,  at  any  rate  in  anything 
like  entirety.  Certainly  the  reader,  in  spite  of  M.  Pellisson,  may  be 
excused  for  ignoring  it.  There  remains  Le  Malade  imaginaire,  which 
like  the  foregoing  play  has'  one  great  ballet,  the  reception  ceremony 
of  a  doctor,  which  should  not  be  disregarded  either  by  readers  or 
managers. 

It  is  of  the  three  last -mentioned  plays  that  Sainte-Beuve  in  a  well- 
known  passage,  quoted  by  M.  Pellisson,  says  that  '  they  represent  the 
highest  stage  of  that  exuberant  and  spontaneous  comedy  which  in 
its  way  rivals  in  creative  fancy  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  and 
The  Tempest.'  And  the  great  critic  points  out  that  Moliere  having 
been  driven  to  write  comedies-ballets  by  the  exigencies  of  the  Court 
came  to  take  a  real  delight  in  them  and  found  in  them  a  new  source 
of  inspiration.  It  is  satisfactory  to  find  that  M.  Pellisson  shares  this 
view,  and  that  he  gives  no  support  to  the  theory  that  Moliere's  genius 
was  towards  tragedy  rather  than  comedy.  No.  Moliere  was  the  lord 
of  laughter,  and  his  comedies-ballets  help  to  shew  the  extent  of  his 
domain. 

ARTHUR  TILLEY. 

CAMBRIDGE. 


Le  Vers  Francais,  ses  Moyens  d' expression,  son  Harmonie.  Par  MAURICE 
GRAMMONT.  Deuxierne  edition  refondue  et  augmentee.  Paris: 
tidouard  Champion.  1913.  pp.  510. 

This  new  edition  of  Professor  Grammont's  important  work  'contient. . . 
deux  chapitres  entierement  nouveaux :  Tun  sur  les  differentes  especes 
de  rejets  et  leur  valeur  artistique,  1'autre  sur  la  variete  du  mouvement 
rythmique '  (the  author  in  Germanisch-Romanische  Monatschrift,  April 
1914).  Professor  Grammont  claims  (ibid.)  that  'dans  ce  dernier... 1'on 
voit  apparaitre  pour  la  premiere  fois  les  resultats  de  la  phonetique  ex- 
perimentale  appliquee  a  1'etude  du  vers;  1'auteur  a  reussi  a  calculer 
1'intensite  qui  marque  le  rythme ;  il  a  reconnu  aussi  que  dans  certains 
cas  le  rythme  est  marque  par  des  consonnes  prolongees.'  This  is  unfair 
to  M.  Landry,  whose  La  Thdorie  du  Rythme  et  le  Rythme  du  Francais 
declame  (1911)  is  almost  entirely  concerned  with  '  la  phonetique  experi- 
mentale  appliqu^e  a  1'etude  du  vers,'  and  to  M.  Verrier,  whose 
L'lsochronisme  dans  le  Vers  francais  (1912)  combats  M.  Landry 's  con- 
clusions from  a  point  of  view  very  similar  to  that  of  Professor  Grammont. 


550  Reviews 

The  work  of  M.  Landry  and  of  M.  Verrier  is  very  far  from  being  '  sans 
valeur,'  and  Professor  Grammont  is  at  least  no  nearer  knowing  '  ce  que 
c'est  qu'un  vers  fran9ais '  than  they  are.  In  fact  the  paragraph  (p.  86)  in 
which  he  contemptuously  dismisses  his  predecessors  is  unworthy  of  him. 

Professor  Grammont  assumes  that  the  metrical  constitution  of  French 
verse  and  of  the  alexandrine  in  particular,  coincides  with  its  phonetic 
constitution — i.e.  that  the  ictus  is  beaten  by  and  practically  only  by 
group-accents  and  word-accents.  His  whole  argument,  as  far  as  it 
concerns  the  metrical  constitution  of  French  verse,  falls  to  the  ground, 
unless  this  assumption  is  justified.  He  has  nowhere  attempted  to 
justify  it.  It  in  no  wise  follows,  because'  every  hemistich  of  the  alexan- 
drine e.g.  usually  consists  (if  read  as  prose)  phonetically  of  two  accentual 
groups,  or  at  least,  if  it  consists  of  only  one,  has  a  marked  and  obvious 
word-accent  somewhere  within  its  six  syllables,  that  it  consists  of  two 
metrical  measures  or  feet.  It  is  true  that  Professor  Grammont  supports 
his  assumption  by  the  further  and  equally  unjustified  assumption 
that,  in  the  case  of  the  alexandrine,  'le  rythme  est  produit  par  le 
retour  a  intervalles  egaux  des  quatre  temps  marques '  (p.  13),  which  is 
merely  a  special  case  of  the  more  general  assumption  (p.  85)  that  '  le 
rythme,  on  le  sait,  est  constitue  par  le  retour  des  temps  marques  a 
intervalles  theoriquement  egaux.'  He  overlooks  the  more  probable  or 
at  least  equally  possible  hypothesis  that  rhythm,  while  it  may  be  rein- 
forced or  perhaps  even  constituted  in  this  way,  is  normally  constituted 
by  a  particular  arrangement,  which  may  be  simple  or  complex,  of 
accented  and  unaccented  syllables — whether  by  accent  is  meant  stress, 
quantity,  pitch,  or  that  combination  of  some  or  all  of  these  with  or 
without  other  factors  which  we  call  'weight' — without  necessary  regard, 
within  limits,  to  the  temporal  element. 

Professor  Grammont  analyses  (pp.  88-9)  six  lines  of  V.  Hugo's 
Napoleon  II.  The  line 

Courbe's  comme  un  cheval  qui  sent  venir  son  maltre, 

e.g.  shows  (with  his  own  reading  and  according  to  his  own  analysis)  the 
possibility  of  a  '  binary '  or  alternating  scansion.  His  own  figures  for 
the  'duree'  and  'intensite'  (by  which  he  means  stress)  of  each  syllable 
are : 

duree:        27,36,     16,20,     26,51,     18,24,     10,26,     26,56. 
intensite :  13,  18,     11,11,     11,19,       3,    8,       9,16,     12,36. 

[The  duree  is  calculated  in  centiseconds — the  intensite  is  merely  relative.] 
Now  the  phonetic  constitution  of  this  line  is  evidently 

Courbes — comme  un  cheval — qui  sent  venir — son  maitre. 

Professor  Grammont  declares  that  its  metrical  constitution  coincides  with 
the  phonetic  constitution.  No  one  will  deny  that  the  2nd,  6th,  10th 
and  12th  syllables  are  the  most  intense  and  the  longest.  But  it  does 
not  follow  that  they  are  the  only  ictus-beating  syllables.  All  that  the 
alternating-iambic  scansion  of  this  line  requires  is  that  each  even 
syllable  shall  not  be  Lighter  than  the  preceding  odd  syllable.  Weight 


Reviews  551 

does  not  consist  entirely  (and  sometimes  not  at  all)  of  stress  and  length. 
But  even  if  we  identify  it  with  length  or  stress  or  both  combined — 
a  view  favourable  to  M.  Grammont  and  unfavourable  to  us — this  line 
satisfies  the  test.  In  the  six  lines  he  has  analysed  there  are  only  five 
feet  which — on  duree  alone — since  length  is  usually  the  most  important 
factor,  in  French,  of  weight — do  not  fit  the  alternating-iambic  scansion. 
(By  foot  I  mean  the  metrical  group  consisting  of  relief  or  unaccented 
syllable  plus  ictus  or  accented  syllable.)  The  refractory  feet,  five  out 
of  36,  are :  the  fourth  of  line  3  (an  he-  where  intensite  more  than 
makes  up  for  the  deficiency  of  duree  of  h4-t  the  figures  being  for  duree 
24,  16  for  intensit^  2,  6),  the  first,  second  and  fifth  of  line  4  (quest-ce, 
duree  97,  22,  intensite  36,  2 ;  que  le,  duree  18,  15,  intensite  2£,  3,  which 
counterbalances  the  inversion  of  duree ;  -ner  a,  duree  35,  18,  intensite 
18,  5)  and  the  fifth  of  line  5  (meme,  duree  46,  18,  intensite  13,  4).  And 
yet  Professor  Grammont  says :  '  L'accentuation  binaire  n'est  qu'un  reve 
germanique,  que  certains  fran9ais  ont  eu  le  tort  de  prendre  pour  une 
realite '  (p.  90).  And  he  bases  this  condemnation  of,  let  us  say,  Pro- 
fessor Saran  and  be  done  with  it,  on  the  fact  that  nowhere  within  the 
accentual  group  in  these  lines  (and  thus  nowhere  within  Professor  Gram- 
mont's  supposed  metrical  measure)  is  there  a  '  diminution  d'intensite.' 
Of  course  there  is  not.  But  that  proves  nothing.  For  by  definition  the 
intensity  does  not  diminish  within  any  given  accentual  group.  That  is 
the  constituting  feature  of  the  accentual  group.  The  truth  is  that  Pro- 
fessor Grammont  disingenuously  begs  the  question.  No  advocate  of 
binary  scansion  of  the  alexandrine  has  ever  claimed  that  it  depends  on 
binary  stress.  Professor  Saran  expressly  declares  that  it  does  not,  but 
that  it  depends  on  weight,  which  may  include  stress,  length,  a  rise  or 
fall  of  pitch,  and  other  elements  such  as  the  '  prolongement  d'une 
implosion  consonantique,'  of  which  Professor  Grammont  gives  examples 
(pp.  94  sqq.),  and  of  purely  psychological  factors  or  any  combination  of 
some  or  all  of  these.  It  does  not  follow,  as  Professor  Grammont  in- 
sinuates, that  because  we  scan  an  alexandrine  binarily  that  we  stress 
alternate  syllables. 

Some  of  the  cases  in  which  the  alternating  iambic  scansion  does  not 
seem  to  fit  the  alexandrine  may  possibly  be  explained  by  '  inversion '  of 
the  foot,  bat  it  is  no  doubt  more  frequently  the  case  that  the  verse  has 
been  badly  read.  M.  Verrier  has  pointed  out  one  obvious  example — 
Professor  Grammont  reads  (p.  93)  a  line  of  La  Fontaine, 

Que  vous  §tes  joli !   que  vous  me  semblez  beau  ! 

with  the  second  syllable  of  semblez  accented.  As  M.  Verrier  says 
(op.  cit.  p.  5)  :  '  Dans  "  que  vous  me  semblez  beau  ! "  1'accent  de  "  blez  " 
est  reporte  sur  "  sem." '  Professor  Grammont  asserts  that  the  basis  of 
French  versification,  as  exemplified  in  the  alexandrine,  has  changed 
since  the  sixteenth  century.  Now,  it  is  quite  possible  to  hold,  as  Professor 
Saran  holds,  without  impertinence,  that  the  primitive  type  has  survived 
(with  modifications),  and  that  what  has  changed  is  the  way  of  reading 
French  verse.  No  one  will  deny  that  a  competent  Frenchman  must  be 


552 


Reviews 


the  best  reader  of  French,  but,  if  the  habit  has  become  established  of 
reading  French  verse  not  as  a  complex  art-form  but  as  almost  pedestrian 
prose  (with  one  or  two  merely  conventional  variations) — a  'reform'  which 
M.*Verrier  associates  with  Moliere — he  will  in  his  reading  dwell  on 
group-accents  and  word-accents  to  the  neglect  of  the  oratorical  and 
rhythmical  accents  and  other  niceties  of  a  highly  artistic  delivery. 
He  will,  in  a  word,  neglect  the  ethos  for  the  logos.  Now,  verse  read  in 
this  way  will  exhibit  the  characteristics  of  prose,  not  even  of  highly 
oratorical  but  of  almost  pedestrian  prose.  And  Professor  Grammont's 
analysis  of  verse  is  a  prose  .analysis :  all  that  he  shows  .to  be  true  of  the 
phonetic  structure  of  verse  is  equally  true  of  prose  hampered  by  rime 
and  syllable  counting.  As  M.  Verrier,  who  is  more  open-minded  than 
Professor  Grammont,  has  said  (op.  cit.,  p.  22)  prose  is  '  dans  bien  des  cas 
aussi  rythmee  que  les  vers.'  In  analysing  a  sentence  of  Bossuet's  arid 
one  of  Chateaubriand's  M.  Verrier  shows,  after  M.  Landry,  that  '  la  prose 
rythmee  presente  les  memes  caracteres  que  la  poesie '  (op.  cit.,  pp.  33-5). 
He  also  shows  that  oratorical  delivery  interferes  with  isochronism— 
a  fact  which  is  fatal  to  his  own  and  Professor  Grammont's  views.  The 
line 

Tout  un  monde  fatal,  ^crasant  et  glac^ 

falls,  according  to  him  (taking  M.  Landry's  measurements),  into  tolerably 
isochronous  phonetic  groups  unless  read  with  a  '  pathetique '  delivery, 
when  the  proportions  change  markedly. 

The  fatal  objection  to  the  theories  of  Becq  de  Fouquieres,  M.  Verrier 
and  Professor  Grammont  is  that  they  afford  no  distinction  between 
verse  and  prose. 

Professor  Grammont  finds  that  in  many  hemistichs  the  separation 
of  the  two  '  mesures '  of  his  scansion  is  made  not  in  the  normal  way  by 
an  accent  but  by  an  'augmentation  de  duree  et  d'intensite"  of  a  con- 
sonant, usually  by  '  le  prolongement  d'une  implosion  consonantique ' 
(pp.  94-5).  Professor  Grammont  rightly  dwells  upon  the  importance 
in  versification  of  this  feature.  It  is  undoubtedly  a  frequent  factor  in 
constituting  c  weight,'  and  the  fact  that  Professor  Grammont  recognizes 
it  as  a  constitutive  element  in  verse  is  equivalent  to  a  partial  abandon- 
ment of  the  exclusive  use  of  '  intensite '  to  beat  the  ictus,  and  should 
carry  with  it  an  abandonment  of  the  purely  phonetic  four-beat  scansion 
of  the  alexandrine. 

Moreover  in  the  examples  given  (pp.  95  sqq.),  out  of  36  cases  of 
prolongation  of  consonantal  implosion  20  occur  in  even  syllables,  and  it 
may  be  doubted  whether  some  of  the  others  really  exist  at  all.  For 
example  nine  of  the  examples  in  odd  syllables  are  in  words  which 
also  have  prolongation  of  consoiiantic  implosion  in  even  places  of  the 
verse.  And  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  this  method  of  beating  the 
ictus  would  be  used  twice  in  one  hemistich.  Of  course  on  the  alter- 
nating-iambic system,  such  prolongation  may  occur  in  an  odd  place  and 
yet  in  nowise  interfere  with  the  iambic  nature  of  the  verse,  provided 
that  each  ictus-syllable  is  not  lighter  (to  whatever  cause  its  weight  is 


Reviews 


553 


due)  than  the  preceding  relief-syllable.  Professor  Grammont's  examples 
are  thus,  if  anything,  favourable  to  the  '  scansion  binaire,'  although  he 
declares,  against  the  evidence  (p.  97),  that  '  Ici  encore  pas  de  systeme 
binaire ' !  And  he  proceeds  to  quote  in  the  very  next  paragraph  : 

Et  les  eGorgements  et  les  eVentrements... 
Le  Kajeunissement  de  la  Decrepitude... 
On  ne  salt  quel  sinistre  aNeantissement... 
Je  suis  le  miserable  h,  Perpetuite... 

in  which  out  of  six  examples  only  one  is  in  an  odd  place ! 

Professor  Grammont's  experimental  analysis  of  the  lines  he  gives 
and  his  study  of  consonantal  implosion  are  extremely  valuable  as  data : 
we  cannot  accept  his  conclusions.  But  no  student  of  French  metrics 
can  afford  to  neglect  the  new  edition  of  Professor  Grammont's  book. 
It  is  to  be  regretted  that  he  has  not  criticized  his  predecessors  in  some 
detail  instead  of  merely  damning  them. 

T.   B.   RuDMdSE-BROWN. 

DUBLIN. 


Historia  da  Litteratura  Portugueza.    II.   Renascenca.     Por  THEOPHILO 
BRAGA.     Porto :  Lello  &  Irmao.     1914.     8vo.     696pp. 

Dr  Theophilo  Braga's  first  book  was  published  over  fifty  years  ago. 
He  does  not  claim  finality  for  his  works  of  literary  criticism,  and  in  the 
preface  to  his  new  volume,  which  contains  the  corrected  results  of  eight 
previous  volumes,  he  speaks  of  his  '  slow  and  successive  approach '  to 
the  problems  of  Portuguese  literature  '  by  means  of  plausible  and  pro- 
visional hypotheses.'  It  may  be  questioned  whether  a  frank  confession 
of  ignorance  or  doubt  as  to  some  of  these  problems  would  not  be  more 
satisfactory ;  but  that  is  Dr  Braga's  confessed  method,  and  the  con- 
clusions of  this  volume  are  as  provisional  as  those  of  which  it  is  a 
summary.  In  each  instance  Dr  Braga  takes  up  a  position  as  confidently 
as  though  no  problem  existed.  Gil  Vicente,  the  goldsmith,  'is  the 
cousin  of  the  poet'  (p.  12).  But  that  is  precisely  the  question  at  issue. 
There  is  a  slight  balance  of  probability  in  favour  of  the  opinion  that 
goldsmith  and  poet  were  one  and  the  same  person.  A  passage  quoted 
from  Garcia  de  Resende  disparaging  the  Portuguese  goldsmiths  seems 
to  add  to  the  probability,  since  the  slight  may  have  been  aimed  especially 
at  Vicente.  The  poet,  we  know,  ridiculed  Resende,  introducing  him  in 
one  of  his  plays  as  a  tunny-fish,  in  allusion  to  his  corpulence.  Dr  Braga 
explains  away  the  mention  of  Gil  Vicente  trobador,  mestre  da  balan^a, 
by  the  supposition  that  the  goldsmith  wrote  verses.  It  is  as  simple  to 
assume  that  the  poet  wrought  in  gold.  Again,  'the  date  of  Gil  Vicente's 
birth  can  be  fixed  with  certainty  in  1470 '  (p.  41).  The  only  evidence 
adduced  is  a  phrase  '  I  am  already  sixty-six,'  spoken  by  an  old  man  in 
a  play  written  by  Vicente  in  1536.  The  dates  of  the  birth  of  Sa  de 
Miranda  and  Diogo  Bernardes  are  given,  respectively,  as  1485  and  1532 
on  evidence  no  less  vague  and  fragile.  There  is^  nothing  to  show  that 
Sa  de  Miranda  was  the  eldest  of  four  children  legitimized  in  1490,  and 


M.  L.  II.  IX. 


36 


554  Reviews 

the  passages  in  support  of  1532  prove  at  most  that  Bernardes  was  born 
about  the  year  1530.  But  this  very  affectation  of  certainty  has  its 
value ;  for  it  excites  opposition  and  leads  to  discussion  of  all  these 
moot  questions  and  to  new  researches  with  a  view  to  their  solution. 
No  one  interested  in  Portuguese  literature  rjcan  afford  to  neglect 
Dr  Braga's  volume.  His  attempt  (pp.  267-287)  to  deny  that  in  the 
matter  of  romances  Portugal  followed  in  the  wake  of  Spain  is  scarcely 
successful.  The  romances  which  he  quotes  are,  with  exceedingly  few 
exceptions,  Spanish  or  of  Spanish  origin,  and  his  patriotism  carries  him 
rather  far  when  he  asserts  that  the  Portuguese  imitated  the  Spanish 
romances  not  from  admiration  or  lack  of  originality  but  from  a  wish  '  to 
give  comic  relief  to  their  verses '  !  If  the  poets  of  Portugal  failed  to 
admire  the  Spanish  romances  all  the  originality  in  the  world  would 
serve  them  but  little. 

AUBREY  F.  G.  BELL. 

S.   JOAO   DO   ESTORIL. 


That  Imaginative  Gentleman  Don  Quijote  de  la  Mancha.  By  MIGUEL 
DE  CERVANTES  SAAVEDRA.  Translated  into  English  by  ROBINSON 
SMITH.  Second  Edition,  with  a  new  Life  of  Cervantes,  Notes  and 
Appendices.  London:  Routledge.  1914.  8vo.  Ixviii  +  752  pp. 

A  Spanish  critic  recently  remarked  that  'Don  Quixote  has  been 
written  by  posterity.'  It  remained  for  Mr  Robinson  Smith  to  show 
that  it  was  written  by  Cervantes'  predecessors.  '  I  have  gathered/  he 
modestly  says,  '  everything  of  importance  previously  discovered  in  this 
matter  of  appropriation,  and  have  been  able  to  add  a  considerable 
number  of  new  allusions  and  borrowings.'  '  No  book  gains  so  much  by 
illustrative  comment.'  But  the  process  can  be  carried  too  far.  At  the 
end  of  this  volume  we  have  a  list  which  *  includes  only  those  books  that 
have  lent  phrase,  idea  or  incident  to  the  Don  Quijote!  They  number 
some  150,  but,  on  closer  inspection,  are  found  to  include,  for  instance, 
the  Chronicle  and  the  Poem  (first  printed  in  1779  !)  of  the  Cid  merely 
because  the  Cid  is  mentioned  in  Don  Quixote.  So,  when  Don  Quixote 
speaks  twice  to  no  purpose  we  are  given  a  quotation  from  Virgil ; 
when  Don  Quixote  is  thin  from  penance  we  are  referred  to  the  leanness 
of  Amadis ;  when  Sancho  curses  the  hour  we  are  referred  to  Amadis ; 
when  Don  Quixote  inquires  'What  news?'  we  are  again  referred  to 
Amadis,  who  uses  these  words.  Mr  Smith  might  have  turned  his  reading 
to  better  account. 

It  is  worth  noting  these  strained  references  because  in  the  sketch 
of  Cervantes'  life  which  precedes  his  translation  Mr  Smith  builds  up 
theories  and  arguments  on  foundations  equally  vain.  To  take  two 
instances  :  the  '  new  evidence '  to  show  that  the  spurious  Second  Part  of 
Don  Quixote  was  written  by  Luis  Aliaga  (Philip  IFs  confessor!),  and 
the  'proofs'  that  the  First  Part  of  Don  Quixote  was  written  in  1603. 
The  '  new  evidence '  consists  in  noting  that  the  incident  of  the  children 
following  Don  Quixote  into  Barcelona  is  based  on  a  similar  incident  in 


Reviews 


555 


Avellaneda's  Second  Part,  and  that  Sancho's  wife  is  described  as  'brown/ 
avellanada.  Let  him  who  can  extract  from  this  an  argument  in  favour 
of  Aliaga's  authorship,  already  fully  exploded  by  Professor  Fitzmaurice- 
Kelly  in  his  introduction  to  Shelton's  translation  of  Don  Quixote, 
pp.  xxi,  xxii,  and  elsewhere.  The  considerations  as  to  the  date  of  Don 
Quixote  are  even  more  amazing.  Mr  Smith  will  not  accept  the  fact  that 
the  First  Part  was  written  in  1604  and  published  in  January  1605.  It 
was  printed  before  May  20,  1604,  he  says  (p.  xxxiii),  before  May  26, 1604 
(p.  xxxii),  and  was  written  in  1603  at  Valladolid,  in  a  house  in  the 
Calle  del  Rastro.  (Its  privilegio  is  dated  September  26,  1604.)  In 
order  to  prove  his  case  Mr  Smith  assumes  that  (1)  if  a  book  published 
in  1603  is  referred  to  in  the  First  Part  of  Don  Quixote  Cervantes  must 
have  been  writing  in  1603.  'It  is  interesting/  he  says,  'to  see  how 
very  soon  after  their  publication  Cervantes  read  the  books  of  his  day/ 
(2)  If  a  book  published  in  1604  is  referred  to  in  the  First  Part  of  Don 
Quixote  the  book  must  have  been  printed  in  or  before  1603.  The 
Second  Part  of  Aleman's  Guzman  de  Alfarache  was  published  in  1604. 
It  did  not  receive  its  privilegio  until  September  1604.  But  Mr  Smith 
finds  references  to  this  work  in  the  First  Part  of  Don  Quixote,  and  he 
infers  not  that  the  First  Part  of  Don  Quixote  was  written  in  1604  but 
that  Guzman  de  Alfarache  was  printed  in  1603.  Mr  Smith  discovers 
an  allusion  in  the  First  Part  of  Don  Quixote  to  a  passage  in  Lope  de 
Vega's  play  El  Casamiento  en  la  Muerte.  Unfortunately  the  date  of 
this  play  is  1604.  Mr  Smith  is  not  deterred.  He  invents  an  earlier 
edition  for  the  play  and  dates  it  1603.  Another  proof  is  the  date  of 
Lope  de  Vega's  Arte  Nuevo.  Mr  Smith  gives  this  as  1602  and  then 
justifies  this  date  in  a  note  on  the  ground  that  the  treatise  is  referred 
to  in  the  First  Part  of  Don  Quixote  and  must  therefore  have  been  written 
before  1603.  It  will  be  seen  that  Mr  Smith  wields  a  two-edged  sword. 
It  is  also  a  little  unfortunate  for  his  theory  that  the  house  in  the  Calle 
del  Rastro  in  which  he  shows  us  Cervantes  at  work  on  the  First  Part  of 
Don  Quixote  in  1603  was  still  building  in  August  1604.  (See  Professor 
Fitzmaurice-Kelly's  Miguel  de  Cervantes  Saavedra,  A  Memoir,  Oxford, 
1913,  p.  117.)  The  whole  argument  is  a  good  example  of  the  extra- 
ordinary lengths  to  which  a  critic  may  be  led  in  support  of  some  darling 
theory  of  his  own. 

But  indeed  this  sketch  of  Cervantes'  life  bristles  with  strange  theories; 
that,  for  instance,  which  makes  St  Ignatius  the  model  of  Don  Quixote. 
Some  of  these  theories  have  been  withdrawn  by  their  inventors,  a  fact 
of  which  Mr  Smith  was  probably  unaware,  since  in  his  notes  he  refers 
continually  not  to  original  documents  but  to  Rius'  bibliography  and  does 
not  even  mention  a  recent  authoritative  English  work  on  Cervantes. 
The  language  in  which  Mr  Smith  expounds  his  theories  is  often  as 
grotesque  as  the  theories  themselves.  Thus  he  informs  the  listening 
world  that  he  is  'fed  up  on  Isabel/  that  'the  reception  of  Don 
Quixote  was  immediate/  that  Cervantes  was  'bearded  like  the  pard ' 
and  '  looks  the  vicissitudes  that  his  life  has  been/  It  is  therefore  with 
some  misgiving  that  we  turn  to  the  translation.  This  is  marred  by  an 

36—2 


556  Reviews 

alternation  of  slang  and  stilted  phrases,  and  the  omission,  of  the  stories 
in  the  First  Part  will  strike  many  as  a  singular  piece  of  audacity. 
Mr  Smith  would  have  shown  discretion  had  he  also  omitted  the  lines 
in  the  Second  Part  in  which  Cervantes  refers  to  those  who  pass  by 
these  episodes  'regardless  alike  of  their  grace  and  construction.' 

AUBREY  F.  G.  BELL. 

S.    JOAO   DO   ESTORIL. 


The  Life  and  Dramatic  Works  of  Doctor  Juan  Perez  de  Montalvdn 
(1602-1638}.  By  GEORGE  WILLIAM  BACON.  (Revue  Hispanique. 
Vol.  xxvi,  pp.  1-474.) 

In  1903  Dr  Bacon  published  at  Philadelphia  a  short  essay  upon  the 
life  and  dramatic  works  of  Montalvan.  He  now  offers  us  a  revised  and 
much  enlarged  version.  A  considerable  part  of  the  new  edition  is 
devoted  to  long  analyses  of  Montalvan's  dramatic  works,  but  there  is 
also  much  new  and  valuable  material,  more  especially  in  the  way  of 
notes  to  the  plays,  to  show  that  Dr  Bacon  has  studied  his  author  with 
fruitful  diligence. 

The  first  section  deals  with  the  dramatist's  life  and  works.  Here 
something  ought  to  have  been  said  about  the  sources  and  foreign 
versions  of  works  like  the  Sucesos  y  Prodigios  de  Amor,  and  at  least  a 
reference  might  have  been  made  to  Matias  de  los  Reyes's  ParaAlgunos 
apropos  of  Para  Todos,  of  which  latter,  by  the  way,  there  is  an  edition 
published  at  Seville  in  1645.  In  discussing  Montalvan's  relations  to 
Lope  de  Vega — our  author's  chief  title  to  fame — Dr  Bacon  misses 
Lope's  explanation  of  the  matter.  In  a  preface  to  La  Francesilla 
(1620),  Lope  states  that  he  became  interested  in  his  protege  because 
of  obligations  to  his  father,  a  well-known  publisher,  and  because  of 
ability  shown  by  Montalvan  in  an  address  read  before  the  Real  Monas- 
terio  de  las  Descalzas. 

When  we  come  to  the  sections  devoted  to  the  plays,  we  find  a 
complicated  system  of  classifications,  and,  to  make  matters  worse, 
Dr  Bacon  has  separated  his  analyses,  notes,  and  bibliographical  re- 
ferences. Much  might  be  said  about  details  of  the  notes,  but  I  will 
confine  myself  here  to  a  few  remarks  of  general  interest.  Dr  Bacon 
finds  fault  with  Paz  y^Melia  for  classifying  Escanderbech  as  an  auto 
sacramental.  It  is  so  called  by  Montalvan  in  Para  Todos,  and  more- 
over the  closing  scene  clearly  shows  that  the  work  was  intended  for  a 
Corpus  Christi  celebration.  A  good  example  of  a  somewhat  similar 
type  of  auto  is  Calderdn's  La  Devocion  de  la  Misa.  In  indicating  where 
copies  of  plays  are  now  to  be  found,  Dr  Bacon  is  not  definite  enough, 
nor  does  he  make  any  distinction  between  contemporary  sueltas  and 
those  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

Among  plays  not  accessible  to  Dr  Bacon  occurs  a  curious  title, 
Por  el  mal  vecino  el  Men.  It  is  so  quoted  by  La  Barrera,  but  the  title 
ought  to  read,  Por  el  mal  me  vino  el  bien.  In  this  rarest  of  plays, 
Blanca  loves  Rugero,  but  she  is  loved  by  the  king,  who  banishes  his 


Reviews 


557 


rival.  While  hunting,  the  king  is  rescued  from  peril  by  Rugero,  to 
whom  Blanca  is  then  given  as  a  reward — hence  the  title.  The  play 
was  written  about  1633,  to  judge  from  reminiscences  of  Calderon's 
La  vida  es  sueiio.  Under  San  Juan  Capistrano,  Dr  Bacon,  following 
La  Barrera,  says  that  as  a  suelta  it  is  attributed  to  Montalvan,  and 
gives  the  sub-title  La  sentencia  contra  si  y  el  htingaro  mas  valiente. 
In  my  contemporary  copy  it  bears  the  second  title  and  is  attributed  to 
Montalvan.  The  title  of  Como  padre  y  como  rey  is  more  correctly  Gomo 
d  padre  y  como  d  rey.  It  is  so  called  in  the  play  itself  and  in  an  edition 
published  in  1781.  For  La  Gitanilla  reference  is  made  to  historians  of 
the  Spanish  drama  who  have  not  seen  the  play  ascribed  to  Montalvan 
(La  Gitanilla),  but  only  the  one  by  Soils  (La  Gitanilla  de  Madrid), 
published  in  the  Biblioteca  de  autores  espanoles  (Vol.  xxni).  One  is  an 
adaptation  of  the  other.  The  play  by  Soils  was  published  in  1671.  The 
suelta  attributed  to  Montalvan  is  certainly  older.  The  two  plays  are 
often  the  same  word  for  word,  but  there  are  many  changes  that  indicate 
a  recasting.  This  is  not  the  place  to  go  into  details,  and  so  I  limit 
myself  to  quoting  part  of  the  first  scene  from  the  Montalvan  version. 

Salen  don  luan  y  lulio  criado,  de  camino. 

Seas,  lulio,  bien  venido. 

Dame,  senor,  mil  abra9os, 

de  mi  amor  preciosos  Ia9os, 

pues  hallarte  he  merecido. 

Quando  llegaste?    lul.    Oy  lleguk 

tan  cansado,  y  tan  mohino 

de  vna  mula  que  en  mi  vino, 

y  que  mi  desdicha  fue, 

que  a  no  hallarte,  y  despicado 

mi  enojo  con  tu  presencia, 

rematado  de  paciencia, 

me  huuiera  desesperado. 

Notable  encarecimiento. 

Es  por  demas  aduertirlo, 

que  vna  cosa  es  el  sentirlo, 

y  otra  passar  el  tormento. 

A  quien  no  boluiera  loco 

ver  su  prissa  pere9osa.... 

Both  plays  refer  to  a  comedia  (by  Cervantes)  entitled  La  Gitanilla. 
We  know  that  Cervantes  wrote  a  novel  with  this  title.  Is  it  possible 
that  he  also  dramatised  the  subject  ? 

For  Pedro  de  Urdemalas  the  references  given  avail  us  nothing. 
Professor  Rennert  states  that  Menendez  y  Pelayo  attributed  the  play  to 
Lope  de  Vega  and  printed  it  in  the  Academy  edition  of  Lope's  works, 
Vol.  XI.  I  cannot  find  it  there,  and  presume  that  Professor  Rennert 
was  thinking  of  Pedro  Carbonero.  The  facts  seem  to.  be  as  follows : 
(a)  A  play  with  this  title  is  ascribed  to  Cervantes,  and  has  been  pub- 
lished, for  example,  in  the  Obras  de  Cervantes,  Madrid,  1864,  Vol.  x. 
(6)  An  entirely  different  play,  but  with  the  same  title,  occurs  in  an 
old  suelta  attributed  to  Montalvan.  (c)  About  the  plays,  or  editions, 
ascribed  to  un  ingenio,  to  Lope  de  Vega  and  to  Canizares,  I  know 


d.  I 

lul. 


d.  Iu. 


558  Reviews 

nothing,  (d)  A  manuscript  play  attributed  to  Diamante  is  at  the 
Biblioteca  Nacional,  Madrid.  To  Paz  y  Melia's  query  whether  this  is 
Montalvan's,  one  must  answer,  to  judge  from  the  lines  quoted  by 
him,  No.  (e)  Paz  y  Melia  refers  in  addition  to  a  '  refundicion  anterior 
a  1682.'  The  Montalvan  play  begins  and  ends  as  follows: 

PEDRO  DE  VRDEMALAS. 
COMEDIA 
FAMOSA. 

DE  IVAN  PEREZ  DE  MONTALVAN. 
PERSONAS  DESTA  COMEDIA. 

Adrian.  Duque  de  Guisa. 

Lisarda  dama.  Duque  Sorbon. 

El  Rey  JFrancisco  de  Francia.  El  Almirante  de  Francia. 

Laura,  y  Turino  villanos.  Fabricio. 

Fulgencio.  El  Conde  Arnaldo, 

Gerardo.  Clara  dama. 

IORNADA  PRIMERA. 

Salen  Adrian,  y  Lisarda. 

Adri.     Sin  la  licencia  no  fuera, 

aunque  me  da  priesa  el  Rey. 
Lis.       Cumples  Adrian  la  ley 

de  amor ;   pero  el  Rey  te  espera , 

no  te  detengas  aqui. 
Adri.     Son  tus  ojos  la  prision 

de  los  mios:   y  es  razon, 

que  puedan  mas  que  yo  en  mi : 

y  pues  en  llegando  a  vellos 

nadie  estk  con  libertad, 

disculpe  mi  voluntad, 

quien  sabe  que  son  tan  bellos  : 

que  si  es  Rey,  y  se  detiene, 

quando  los  vea,  contemplallos 

mal  la  tendran  los  vassallos, 

si  vn  Rey  defensa  no  tiene 

Ram.     Y  con  mas  razon 

al  Sen  ado :   aqui  acaba 
la  comedia,  que  su  autor 
llama  Pedro  de  Vrdemalas. 

FIN. 

MILTON  A.  BUCHANAN. 

UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO. 

Arthurian  Legends  or  the  Hebrew-German  Rhymed  version  of  the 
Legend  of  King  Arthur.  Edited  by  L.  LANDAU.  (Teutonia,  xxi. 
Heft.).  Leipzig:  E.  Avenarius.  1912.  8vo.  lxxxv  +  246pp. 

The  fact  that  these  texts  are  written  in  the  German  language  but 
in  the  Hebrew  script  will  account  for  the  lack  of  attention  with  which 
they  have  met  hitherto  at  the  hands  of  the  average  '  Germanist.'  They 


Revieivs 


559 


are  but  two  examples  of  a  Hebrew-German  literature  of  which  the  first 
poetic  monuments  can  be  traced  back  to  the  fifteenth  century.  There 
is  evidence,  however,  that  the  Jews  took  an  active  part  in  German 
literature  even  before  that  time.  In  a  general  way,  the  Jews  had  a 
larger  share  in  the  dissemination  of  literature  in  the  Middle  Ages  than 
is  commonly  supposed.  From  the  point  of  view  of  comparative  litera- 
ture, the  subject  presents  some  interesting  problems  and  possibilities. 
The  Jews,  scattered  as  they  were  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  with  their 
bi-lingual  characteristics  and  strong  religious  and  literary  tradition, 
were  particularly  well-adapted  to  serve  as  intermediaries  between  the 
East  and  the  West.  It  was  largely  owing  to  their  mediation  that 
the  Talmudic  stories  found  their  way  into  Christian  legend ;  it  was 
mainly  through  them  that  Arabic  tales  and  fables  were  absorbed  into 
Western  literature  to  re-appear  in  a  new  garb  as  the  Gesta  Romanorum, 
the  Fabliaux  or  the  Cento  novelle  antiche. 

Fascinating  as  is  the  subject  in  its  wider  aspects,  it  is  no  less 
interesting  in  its  present  narrower  limits.  The  text  which  Mr  Landau 
publishes  for  the  first  time  with  a  full  critical  apparatus  is  a  German- 
Hebrew  romance  of  the  cycle  of  King  Arthur.  It  has  been  known 
hitherto  from  printed  editions  of  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth 
centuries,  both  in  rhyme  and  in  prose.  A  critical  text  of  two  MSS,  both  in 
Hebrew-German  cursive  writing  of  the  sixteenth  century  and  preserved 
in  the  Hamburg  Stadtbibliothek,  is  here  published  for  the  first  time ; 
parallel  to  it  on  the  opposite  page  is  the  text  of  the  edition  of  1699  by 
Wagenseil,  thus  affording  a  rapid  comparison  between  the  two  versions. 
Dr  Landau  shows  that  the  source  of  his  text  was  the  thirteenth  century 
Middle  High  German  Wigalois  of  Wirnt  von  Grafenberg,  and  not  the 
prose  Wigalois,  as  has  been  assumed  until  now.  Its  author  was  a 
gleeman  of  the  fifteenth  century  who  had  his  home  in  the  Mainz- 
Frankfort-Worms  district,  in  which  there  had  always  been  a  large  Jewish 
population.  Thus  we  see  how  German  literature  had  penetrated  into 
the  Ghettos  of  the  flourishing  cities  of  the  Rhine  district,  a  literature 
not  confined  to  Volksbiicher,  but  comprising  actual  metrical  versions  of 
older  romances.  The  story  itself  is,  as  its  title  the  Artus-Hof  implies, 
a  typical  romance  of  chivalry  of  the  later  Middle  Ages,  with  its  usual 
accompaniments  of  magic  properties,  of  giants  and  distressed  maidens, 
of  enchanted  knights  and  castles.  But  it  makes  up  for  these  literary 
deficiencies  by  its  style.  It  furnishes  a  curious  combination  of  the 
manner  of  the  court  poet  and  the  gleeman,  with  a  considerable 
admixture  of  Yiddish  elements.  A  further  interest — apart  from  its 
linguistic  peculiarities,  apart  from  the  preservation  of  motives  from 
older  sources — is  that  it  shows  a  medieval  romance  in  the  last  stages  of 
disintegration,  in  its  transition  from  the  rhymed  romance  of  the  sixteenth 
century  to  the  chap-book  of  the  next.  Dr  Landau  is  to  be  sincerely 
congratulated  on  having  opened  up  a  new  field  to  German  philology, 
and  such  an  enterprise  is  in  itself  something  of  an  achievement. 

L.   A.   WlLLOUGHBY. 

OXFORD. 


MINOK   NOTICES. 


The  members  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  are  happy  in  the 
opportunities  which  their  great  Library  affords  them  for  becoming 
familiar  with  the  use  of  manuscripts,  and  the  publication  of  Facsimiles 
of  Twelve  Early  English  Manuscripts  in  the  Library  of  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge  (Oxford :  University  Press,  1913),  edited  by  Dr  Greg  at  the 
close  of ^  his  tenure  of  the  post  of  Librarian,  is  intended  as  a  help  to 
younger  members  of  the  College,  who  may  wish  to  begin  the  study  of 
the  original  texts  of  early  English  literature.  The  Library  contains 
about  a  hundred  English  manuscripts  dating  from  before  the  sixteenth 
century,  which  form,  as  the  editor  says,  '  a  very  representative  as  well 
as  important  collection,  in  which  every  period,  from  the  eleventh  century 
onwards,  is  fairly  illustrated.'  From  these  he  has  selected  twelve,  and 
a  specimen  of  each  is  reproduced  in  admirably  executed  facsimile,  with 
a  transcript  in  ordinary  type  on  the  opposite  page,  and  notes  by  the 
editor  on  the  characteristics  of  the  handwriting  and  on  the  contractions 
and  abbreviations  which  are  used.  At  the  end  is  given  a  chronological 
list  of  the  early  English  manuscripts  in  the  Library,  by  means  of  which 
students  will  easily  be  able  to  find  further  examples  of  the  handwriting 
of  any  particular  date.  The  editorial  work  is  thoroughly  well  done,  and 
in  respect  of  paper  and  printing  the  publication  is  worthy  of  the  College 
by  which  it  is  issued. 

Several  notable  additions  have  recently  been  made  to  the  series  of 
Deutsche  Literaturdenkmale  (Berlin :  Behrs  Verlag).  In  Vol.  146 
Rudolf  Unger  publishes  the  letters  written  by  Dorothea  and  Friedrich 
Schlegel  to  the  Paulus  family  and  preserved  in  the  University  Library 
at  Heidelberg.  The  majority  of  these  letters  are  from  Dorothea  to 
Frau  Karoline  Paulus,  the  '  artige  Freundin/  who  was  not  always  above 
petty  gossip.  From  the  literary  point  of  view  the  correspondence  does 
not  carry  much  weight ;  its  importance  on  the  personal  side  is,  however,- 
all  the  greater.  Above  all,  it  shows  clearly  the  part  played  by  Dorothea 
in  her  husband's  mental  life  and  in  his  conversion  at  Cologne.  Her 
interests-  at  the  outset  were  entirely  protestant,  but  she  was  gradually 
brought  nearer  to  Catholicism  by  her  love  for  the  past.  The  next  volume 
of  the  series,  No.  147,  contains  A.  W.  Schlegel's  Bonn  lecture-notes  on 
Geschichte  der  deutschen  Sprache  und  Poesie,  edited  by  J.  Korner. 
These  records  from  the  beginnings  of  German  philology — their  date  is 
1818-19 — can  hardly  claim  to  be  of  value  to-day,  but  they  fill  us  with 
respect  for  Schlegel's  vast  erudition  and  clear  judgment.  In  No.  148 


Minor  Notices  561 

A.  Fauconnet  reprints  an  early  autobiographical  drama,  Liebe  und  Hass, 
by  the  Swabian  poet,  Wilhelm  Waiblinger.  More  important  than  any 
of  these  volumes,  however,  is  No.  149,  J.  G.  Forster's  Reisetagebucher, 
reprinted  by  Paul  Zincke  in  collaboration  with  A.  Leitzmann,  and 
supplied  with  valuable  notes.  The  most  interesting  of  these  journals  is 
that  containing  the  account  of  Forster's  journey  from  Cassel  to  Poland, 
where  he  was  believed  to  have  assisted  the  government,  not  only  in 
educational  matters,  but  also  in  mining,  agriculture,  etc.  Forster  had  a 
keen  eye  for  the  things  that  interested  him,  and  his  notes  contain  many 
valuable  descriptions  of  land  and  people,  and  of  the  notable  acquaintances 
he  made  on  the  way.  Finally,  in  No.  150  Dr  Joseph  Fritz,  whose 
edition  of  the  Ander  theil  D.  Johann  Fausti  Historien,  von  seinem 
Famulo  Christoff  Wagner,  1593,  appeared  in  1910,  devotes  his  attention 
to  the  Wagner-  Volksbuch  of  the  eighteenth  century.  He  gives  us  an 
extremely  careful  investigation  into  the  prints  of  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries,  discusses  the  question  of  the  '  Puppenspiel,'  and 
republishes  the  preface  and  several  sections  from  eighteenth  century 
prints.  This  is  a  welcome  addition  to  the  literature  dealing  with  Faust 

R.  P. 

From  the  University  of  California  we  have  received  an  interesting 
study  in  comparative  literature  on  the  theme  of  Venice  Preserved 
{Das  gerettete  Venedig,  eine  vergleichende  Studie.  Von  Fritz  Winther. 
Berkeley :  University  of  California  Press,  1914).  Dr  Winther's  objective 
is  not  quite  the  usual  one  in  dissertations  of  this  kind ;  he  does  not  deal 
with  sources,  or  literary  history,  or  even  literary  borrowings  in  the  first 
instance ;  but  with  three  works  each  of  which  he  regards  as  a  creation 
by  itself:  the  English  play  by  Otway  (1682),  the  French  version  of  it 
by  La  Fosse  (Manlius  Capitolinus,  1698),  and  the  quite  modern  German 
version  (1905)  by  Hugo  von  Hofmannsthal.  His  purpose  is  to  illustrate 
by  means  of  these  plays  the  variations  in  national  tastes,  ideals,  etc. 
He  regards  the  works  as  '  Symptome  der  Geistesstromungen,  aus  denen 
sie  hervorgingen/  and  deals  with  the  conditions  under  which  they  were 
produced  rather  than  with  the  personality  of  their  authors.  The  results 
he  arrives  at  are  correspondingly  suggestive  and  novel,  although 
perhaps  a  little  wanting  in  ballast  and  stability.  While  appreciating 
Dr  Winther's  aims,  we  are  inclined  to  think  that  he  exaggerates  the 
value  of  a  study  of  this  kind  for  elucidating  questions  of  national  psycho- 
logy and  literary  temperament.  Disproportionate  space  is  devoted  to 
Hofmannsthal's  work;  and  we  miss  a  discussion  of  the  reception  of 
Otway's  play  on  the  continent. 


NEW  PUBLICATIONS. 

June — August   1914. 

GENERAL. 

BINNS,  H.,  Outlines  of  the  World's  Literature.    London,  B.  Herder.    7s.  Qd.  net. 

BJORKMAN,  E.,  Voices  of  To-morrow  :    Critical  Studies  of  the  New  Spirit  in 

Literature.     London,  Richards.     5s.  net. 
BLUMEL,  R.,  Einfiihrung  in  die   Syntax.     (Indogermanische   Bibliothek,  vi.) 

Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.     3  M.  60. 
BORDEAUX,  H.,  Quelques  portraits  d'hommes.     Paris,  Fontemoing.     3  fr.  50. 

BORINSKI,  K.,  Die  Antike  in  Poetik  und  Kunsttheorie.  Vom  Ausgang  des 
klassischen  Altertums  bis  auf  Goethe  und  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt.  i.  Band. 
(Das  Erbe  der  Alten,  ix.)  Leipzig,  Dieterich.  8  M. 

GRATACAP,  L.  P.,  Substance  of  Literature.  London,  Stevens  and  Brown. 
4s.  net. 

Miscellany,  A,  presented  to  J.  M.  Mackay,  July,  1914.  London,  Constable. 
10s.  Qd.  net. 

PETERSEN,  J.,  Literaturgeschichte  als  Wissenschaft.  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter. 
1  M.  80. 

Studier  i  modern  Sprakvetenskap.  Utgivna  av  nyfilologiska  sallskapet  i  Stock- 
holm, v.  Uppsala,  Almqvist  och  Wiksell. 

ROMANCE   LANGUAGES. 
General. 

WULFF,  A.,  Die  frauenfeindlichen  Dichtungen  in  den  romanischen  Literaturen 
des  Mittelalters  bis  zum  Ende  des  13.  Jahrh.  (Romanistische  Arbeiten,  iv.) 
Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  6  M. 

Italian. 

ALTEROCCA,  A.,  La  vita  e  1'  opera  poetica  e  pittorica  di  Lorenzo  Lippi.  (Biblio- 
teca  di  critica  storica  e  letteraria,  IV.)  Catania,  Battiato.  3  L.  50. 

BAINBRIGGE,  M.  S.,  A  Walk  in  other  Worlds  with  Dante.  London,  Kegan 
Paul.  6s.  net. 

BOCCACCIO,  G.,  II  Buccolicum  Carmen,  trascritto  di  su  1'  autografo  riccardiano 
e  illustrate  a  cura  di  G.  Lidonnici.  (Opuscoli  danteschi  inediti  o  ran, 
131-135.)  Cittk  di  Castello,  Lapi.  4  L. 

BOCCACCIO,  G.,  Olympia.  Edited  with  an  English  Rendering  by  I.  Gollancz. 
London,  Chatto  and  Windus.  6s.  net. 

CROCE,  B.,  Ricerche  e  documenti  desanctisiani.  Fasc.  i-iv.  Bari,  G.  Laterza. 
Each  1  L.  50. 

DE  SANCTIS,  F.,  Saggio  critico  sul  Petrarca.     Nuova  ediz.  a  cura  di  B.  Croce. 

Milan,  Soc.  Editr.  Dante  Alighieri.     4  L. 
FREZZI,  F.,  II  quadriregio,  a  cura  di  E.  Filippini.     (Scrittori  d'  Italia,  LXV.) 

Bari,  G.  Laterza.     5  L.  50. 

FUMAGALLI,  A.,  Angelo  Poligiano  :  studio  critico.  Milan,  Soc.  Editr.  Dante 
Alighieri.  2  L.  50. 


New  Publications  563 

GARZIA,  R.,  Gerolamo  Araolla.  (Studi  di  storia  letteraria  sarda,  i.)  Bologna, 
Stab.  Tip.  Emiliano.  3  L. 

Gozzi,  G.,  Prose  scelte  e  sermoni,  con  introduzione  e  commento  di  P.  Pompeali. 
Milan,  F.  Vallardi.  3  L. 

STIEFEL,  H.,  Die  italienische  Tenzone  des  xiu.  Jahrh.  und  ihr  Verhaltnis  zur 
provenzalischen  Tenzone.  (Romanistische  Arbeiten,  v.)  Halle,  M.  Nie- 
meyer.  5  M. 

Vico,  G.  B.,  Le  orazioui  inaugural!,  il  D£  italorum  sapientia  e  le  polemiche, 
a  cura  di  G.  Gentile  e  F.  Nicolini.  (Scrittori  d;  Italia,  LXVII.)  Bari, 
G.  Laterza.  5  L.  50. 

VOSSLER,  K.,  Italienische  Literatur  der  Gegenwart  von  der  Romantik  bis  zum 
Futurismus.  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  3  M.  20. 

Spanish. 

ALARC6N  Y  MELE"NDEZ,  J.,  Una  ceiebridad  desconocida  (Concepci<5n  Arenal). 
Madrid,  Imp.  de  G.  Lopez  Horno.  2  pes. 

Antologfa  de  poetas  vallisoletanos.  Con  pr61ogo  de  Naftiso  Alonso  Cortes. 
Valladolid,  Tip.  de  la  Viuda  de  Montero.  2  pes.  50. 

BONILLA  Y  SAN  MARTfN,  A.,  Marcelino  Menendez  y  Pelayo  (1856-1912). 
Madrid,  Imp.  de  Fortanet. 

CALVET,  A.,  Fray  Anselmo  Turmeda :  heterodoxo  espanol  (1352-1423-32). 
Barcelona.  Casa  edit.  Estudio.  3  pes.  50. 

CASCALES  MUNOZ,  J.,  D.  Jose  de  Espronceda :  su  epoca,  su  vida  y  sus  obras. 
Con  los  Informes  de  las  Reales  Academias  Espanola  y  de  la  Historia. 
Madrid,  Imp.  de  la  Viuda  Rico.  4  pes. 

CERVANTES  DE  SALAZAR,  F.,  Cronica  de  la  Nueva  Espana.  Tomo  I.  Madrid, 
The  Hispanic  Society  of  America.  Tomo  I.  12  pes. 

CUEVAS,  M.,  Documentos  ineditos  del  siglo  xvi  para  la  historia  de  Mexico. 
Mexico,  Talleres  del  Museo  Nacional  de  Arqueologia,  Historia  y  Etnologia. 

FIGAROLA-CANEDA,  D.,  Memorias  ineditas  de  la  Avellaneda.  Habana,  Imp.  de 
la  Biblioteca  Nacional. 

GONZALEZ  AURICLES,  N.,  Cervantes  en  Cordoba  :  estudio  crftico-biografico. 
Madrid,  Imp.  de  la  Viuda  de  Antonio  Alvarez.  1  pes.  50. 

Obras  drarnaticas  del  siglo  xvi.  Advertencia  preliminar  de  A.  Bonilla  y  San 
Martin.  Primera  serie.  Comedia  nuevamente  compuesta  por  Francisco 
de  Avendano.  La  Vengan9a  de  Agamenon.  Auto  de  Clorindo.  Farsa  de 
Lucrecia.  Farsa  sobre  el  matrimonio.  Madrid,  Imp.  Clasica  Espanola. 
40  pes. 

PONCET  Y  DE  CARDENAS,  C.,  El  Romance  en  Cuba.  Habana,  Imp.  *  El  Siglo  xx ' 
de  Aurelio  Miranda. 

RoDRfGUEZ  MAR£N,  F.,  Cervantes  y  la  ciudad  de  Cordoba.  Madrid,  Tip.  de  la 
'  Re  vista  de  Archives.'  1  pes. 

Portuguese. 

VICENTE,  G.,  Lyrics.  With  the  Portuguese  Text.  Translated  by  A.  F.  G.  Bell. 
Oxford,  B.  H.  Blackwell.  3s.  Qd.  net. 

Roumanian. 

DENSUSIAND,  0.,  Histoire  de  la  langue  roumaine.  Tome  n,  fasc.  1.  Le  xvie 
siecle.  Paris,  Leroux.  20  fr. 

POPOVICI,  J.,  Dialectele  romlne.  ix,  1.  Dialectele  romlne  din  Istria.  Partea  I  A. 
Halle,  Niemeyer.  4  M. 


564  New  Publications 

Provencal. 

HUBSCHMIED,  J.  U.,  Die  Bildung  des  Imperfekts  im  Frankoprovenzalischen. 
(Zeitschrift  fiir  romanische  Philologie.  Beihefte,  LVIII.)  Halle,  M.  Nie- 
meyer. 5  M.  50. 

French. 

(a)     General  (incl.  Language}. 

DES  GRANGES,  C.  M.,  Histoire  de  la  litterature  franchise.  Nouv.  edition.  Paris, 
Hatier.  5  fr.  50. 

GILLIE"RON  et  EDMON.T,  Atlas  linguistique  de  la  France.  ,  Corse.  2e  fasc. 
Paris,  Champion.  25  fr. 

JONES,  E.  C.,  Saint-Gilles,  essai  d'histoire  litteraire.     Paris,  Champion.     3  fr. 
PASSY,  P.,  The  Sounds  of  the  French  Language.     London,  H.  Milford.     2s.  Qd. 

SCHMIDT,  W.  F.,  Die  spanischen  Elemente  im  franzosischen  Wortschatz.  (Zeit- 
schrift fiir  romanische  Philologie.  Beihefte,  LIV.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer. 
8  M. 

SOLTMANN,  H.,  Syntax  der  Modi  im  moderneu  Franzosisch.  Halle,  M.  Nie- 
meyer.  7  M. 

(6)     Old  French. 

Apollonius-Romans,  Die  altfranzosischen  Prosaversionen  des.  Herausg.  von 
C.  B.  Lewis.  (Aus  '  Romanische  Forschungen.')  Erlangen,  F.  Junge. 
10  M.  50. 

FOERSTER,  W.,  Kristiau  von  Troyes.  Worterbuch  zu  seinen  samtlichen  Werken. 
(Romanische  Bibliothek,  xxi.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  10  M, 

RAOUL  VON  SOISSON,  Lieder.  Herausg.  von  E.  Winkler.  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer. 
3  M. 

Roman  de  Renard,  Le,  par  L.  Foulet.  (Bibl.  de  l'£lcole  des  Hautes-etudes.) 
Paris,  Champion.  13  fr. 

(c)     Modern  French. 

AUZAS,  A.,  Les  poetes  frangais  du  xixe  siecle.  1800-1887.  ]£tude  prosodique 
et  litteraire.  London,  H.  Milford.  3s.  6d. 

BALZAC,  H.  DE,  Le  comedie  humaine.  Tome  xx,  xxi.  Paris,  L.  Conard- 
Each  9  fr. 

BELLESSORT,  A.,  Sur  les  grands  chemins  de  la  poesie  classique.  Ronsard,  Cor- 
neille,  La  Fontaine,  Racine,  Boileau.  Paris,  Perrin.  3  fr.  50. 

BERNHEIM,  P.,  Balzac  und  Swedenborg.  (Romanische  Studien,  xvi.)  Berlin, 
E.  Ebering.  4  M. 

BLUM,  L.,  Stendhal  et  le  beylisme.     Paris,  Ollendorff.     3  fr.  50. 

BOSSUET,  Correspond ance.  Nouv.  edition  par  C.  Urbain  et  E.  Levesque. 
Tome  vin.  Paris,  Hachette.  7  fr.  50. 

BOSSUET,  Oeuvres  oratoires,  edit,  critique  par  J.  Lebarq,  rev.  par  C.  Urbain  et 
E.  Levesque.  Tome  I.  Paris,  Hachette.  4  fr. 

DONNAY,  M.,  Alfred  de  Musset,  conferences.     Paris,  Hachette.     3  fr.  50. 

FLORIAN-PARMENTIER,  Histoire  contemporaine  des  lettres  frangaises.  Paris, 
Figuiere.  5  fr. 

GAZIER,  A.',  Bossuet  et  Louis  XIV,  etude  historique  sur  le  caractere  de  Bossiiet. 
Paris,  Champion.  2  fr.  50. 

GUIMBAUD,  L.,  Victor  Hugo  et  Juliette  Drouet  d'apres  les  lettres  inedites  de 
Juliette  Drouet.  Paris,  Rey.  6  fr. 


New  Publications  565 

HUGO,  V.,  QEuvres  completes.    Edition  de  Flmprimerie  Rationale.    Tome  xxvu. 
Paris,  Ollendorff.     20  fr. 

KERSTEN,  K.,  Voltaires  Henriade  in  der  deutschen  Kritik  vor  Lessing.     Berlin, 
Mayer  und  Mliller.     1  M.  60. 

LANSON,  G.,  Manuel  bibliographique  de  la  litterature  frangaise  moderne  (1500- 

1900).    ve  Partie.     Index  general  et  supplement.    Paris,  Hachette.    4  fr. 
LECIGNE,  C.,  Joseph  de  Maistre.     Paris,  Lethielleux.     3  fr.  50. 
MARIE,  A.,  Gerard  de  Nerval.     Le  poete  et  1'homme.     Paris,  Hachette.     12  fr. 
MARTINO,  P.,  Stendhal.     Paris,  Soc.  fr.  d'impr.  et  de  libr.     3  fr.  50. 

PASCAL,   B.,    (Euvres   completes.     £d.   par   L.  Brunschvicg,   P.  Boutroux  et 
F.  Gazier.     Tome  vi-xi.     Paris,  Hachette.     Each  7  fr.  50. 

PHILIPPOT,  E.,  La  vie  litteraire  de  Noel  Du  Fail,  geutilhomme  breton.     Paris, 
Champion.     10  fr. 

PITTALUGA-MARZOCCO,  C.,  Des  fabliaux  et  de  leurs  rapports  avec  les  contes 
italiens.     Naples,  F.  Casella.     3  L. 

PONSARD,  F.  et  M.  CHALLIAT,  Frangois  Ponsard  et  son  iemps.     Paris,  Mes- 
trallet.     50  fr. 

RENAN,    E.,    Fragments    intimes    et    romanesques.      Paris,    Calmann-Levy. 
3  fr.  50. 

RONSARD,   P.,   Textes  choisis   et  commentes   par   P.    Villey.       (Bibliotheque 
frangaise,  xvie  siecle.)     Paris,  Plon-Nourrit.     3  fr.  50. 

SAINT-GELAIS,  0.  DE,  Aeneas  Sylvius,  Eurialus  und  Lukrezia,  ubersetzt  von. 
Herausg.  von  E.  Richter.     Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.     8  M. 

SCHENCK,  La  part  de  Ch.  Nodier  dans  la  formation  des  idees  romantiques  de 
V.  Hugo  jusqu'a  la  preface  de  Cromwell.     Paris,  Champion.     3  fr.  50. 

SEILLIERE,  E.,  Le  romantisme  de  realistes.     G.  Flaubert.     Paris,  Plon-Nourrit. 
3  fr.  50. 


GERMANIC   LANGUAGES. 

General. 

Jahresbericht  iiber  die  Erscheinungen  auf  dem  Gebiete  der  germauischen  Phi- 
lologie.  xxxiv.  Jahrgang.  Leipzig,  0.  R.  Reisland.  13  M. 

WESSEN,  E.,  Zur  Geschichte  der  germanischen  N-Deklination.  (Uppsala 
universitets  arsskrift,  1914,  n.)  Uppsala,  Akad.  bokh.  4  Kr. 

Scandinavian. 

Edda.     Die  Lieder  des  Codex  regius  nebst  verwandten  Denkmalern.     Herausg. 

von   G.   Neckel.      i.    Text.      (Sammlung    germanischer    Elementar-   und 

Handbucher,  n.  Untersuchungen  und  Texte,  ix.)     Heidelberg,  C.  Winter. 

5  M.  30. 
HOLBERG,  L.,  Samlede  Skrifter.    Udgivne  af  C.  S.  Petersen.   n.  Bind,  xix.  Bind, 

2.  Heefte.     Copenhagen,  Gyldendal.     27  kr.  50. 

Skjaldedigtning,  Deri  norsk-islandske.    Udgiven  af  Kommissionen  for  det  arna- 

magnseanske  Legat  ved  F.  Jonsson.   it.    1.  Heefte.    Copenhagen,  Gyldendal. 

5  Kr. 
Svenska  studier  tillagnade  Gustaf  Cederschiold.     Utg.  genom  Svenska  moders- 

malslarareforeningen.     Lund,  W.  K.  Gleerup.     10  kr. 
WENZ,   G.,   Die   Frietjrjofssaga.      In   ihrer  Uberlieferung  untersucht.      Halle, 

M.  Niemeyer.     6  M.  , 


566  New  Publications 

Low  German. 

GHETELEN,  HANS  VAX,  Das  Narrenschyp.  Herausg.  von  H.  Brandes.  Halle, 
M.  Niemeyer.  18  M. 

LASCH,  A.,  Mittelniederdeutsche  Grammatik.  (Sammlung  kurzer  Grammatiken 
germanischer  Dialekte,  ix.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  6  M.  80. 

English. 

(a)  General  (incl.  Language}. 

ANGUS,   J.   S.,   A   Glossary   of  the  Shetland  Dialect.     Paisley,   A.   Gardner. 

4s.  6d.  net. 
HEUSER,    W.,    Altlondon,    mit    besonderer    Beriicksichtigung    des    Dialekts. 

Strassburg,  K.  J.  Triibner.     2  M. 

LUICK,  K.,  Historische  Grammatik  der  englischen  Sprache.  u.  Lief.  Leipzig, 
C.  H.  Tauchnitz.  4  M. 

MAIR,  G.  H.,  Modern  English  Literature  :  from  Chaucer  to  the  present  day. 
London,  Williams  and  Norgate.  6s.  net. 

New  English  Dictionary,  A.  Traik — Trinity,  by  Sir  James  Murray.  Oxford, 
Clarendon  Press.  5s.  net. 

(b)  Old  and  Middle  English. 

BARNODW,  A.  J.,  Anglo-Saxon  Christian  Poetry :  an  Address.  Transl.  by 
L.  Dudley.  The  Hague,  Nijhoff ;  London,  D.  Nutt.  Is.  3d.  net. 

Beowulf.     A  metrical  Translation  by  J.  R.  C.  Hall.     Cambridge,  Univ.  Press. 

2s.  6d.  net. 
Genesis,  Die  altere.   Mit  Einleitung,  Anmerkungen,  Glossar  und  der  lateinischen 

Quelle  herausg.  von  F.  Holthausen.     (Alt-  und  mittelenglische  Texte,  vn.) 

Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.     2  M.  80. 

Gregoriuslegende,  Die  mittelenglische.  Herausg.  von  C.  Keller.  (Alt-  und 
mittelenglische  Texte,  vi.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  3  M.  20. 

MULLER,  J.,  Das  Kulturbild  des  Beowulfepos.  (Studien  zur  englischen  Philo- 
logie,  LIII.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  2  M.  80. 

WILLIAMS,  B.  C.,  Gnomic  Poetry  in  Anglo-Saxon.  Edited  with  Introduction, 
Notes  and  Glossary.  (Columbia  Univ.  Studies  in  English  and  Comparative 
Literature.)  New  York,  Columbia  Univ.  Press.  (London,  H.  Milford.) 

(c)  Modern  English. 

ALBRECHT,  L.,  Neue  Untersuchungen  zu  Shakespeares  Mass  fiir  Mass.     Berlin, 

Weidmann.     7  M. 
ARNOLD,  M.,  Essays  :  including  Essays  on  Criticism,  On  Translating  Homer, 

and  Five  other  Essays  now  for  the  first  time  collected.    London,  H.  Milford. 

Is.  6d.  net. 
BAKER,  A.  E.,  A  Concordance  to  the  Poetical  and  Dramatic  Works  of  Tennyson. 

London,  K.  Paul.     25s.  net. 
EARTH,  H.,  Das  Epitheton  in  den  Dramen  des  jungen  Shakespeare  und  seiner 

Vorganger.     (Studien  zur  englischen  Philologie,  LII.)     Halle,  M.  Niemeyer. 

6M. 

BOAS,  F.  S.,  University  Drama  in  the  Tudor  Age.     Oxford,  Clarendon  Press. 

14s.  net. 
COWL,  E.  P.,  English  Imaginative  Prose  :   an  Anthology.     London,  Simpkin. 

3s.  60?.  net. 

COWL,  R.  P.,  The  Theory  of  Poetry  in  England  :  its  development  in  doctrines 
and  ideas  from  the  16th  to  the  19th  Century.  London,  Macmillan. 
5s.  net. 


New  Publications 


567 


CRABBE,  G.,  Poetical  Works.  Edited  by  A.  J.  and  R.  M.  Carlyle.  London, 
H.  Milford.  Is.  Qd.  net. 

CURLE,  R.,  Joseph  Conrad  :  a  Study.     London,  K.  Paul.     7s.  Qd.  net. 

EHRKE,  K.,  Das  Geistermotiv  in  den  schottisch-englischen  Balladen.  Diss. 
Leipzig,  G.  Fock.  2  M. 

EMERSON,  R.  W.,  Journals.     Edited  by  E.  W.  Emerson  and  W.  E.  Forbes. 
9  Vols.  ix  and  x.     London,  Constable.     Each  6s.  net. 

GIARDINI,  G.,  II  pessiraismo  di  Giorgio  Byron.  Rocca  S.  Casciano,  L.  Cappelli. 
2  L. 

KONIG,  K.,  Byrons  English  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers.  Entstehung  und 
Beziehungen  zur  zeitgenb'ssischen  Satire  und  Kritik.  Leipzig,  G.  Fock. 
2M. 

LEDDERBOGEN,  W.,  Felicia  Hemans  Lyrik.  Eine  Stilkritik.  (Kieler  Studien 
zur  englischen  Philologie,  iv.)  Heidelberg,  C.  Winter.  4  M.  40. 

LITTLE,  A.  G.,  Roger  Bacon  Essays  :  contributed  by  various  writers  on  the 
occasion  of  the  Commemoration  of  the  seventh  Centenary  of  his  Birth. 
Oxford,  Clarendon  Press.  16s.  net. 

McCABE,  J.,  G.  B.  Shaw  :  a  critical  Study.  (Studies  of  Living  Writers.) 
London,  K.  Paul.  7s.  Qd.  net. 

ROBERTSON,  J.  M.,  Elizabethan  Literature.  (Home  Univ.  Library.)  London, 
Williams  and  Norgate.  Is.  net. 

SCHOEPE,  M.,  Der  Vergleich  bei  D.  G.  Rossetti.  Eine  stilistische  Untersuchung. 
(Normannia,  xiu.)  Berlin,  E.  Felber.  5  M. 

Shakespeare- Gesellschaft,  Jahrbuch  der  deutschen.  L.  Jahrgang.  Berlin, 
G.  Reimer.  11  M. 

SHELLEY,  H.  C.,  The  Life  and  Letters  of  Edward  Young.  London,  Pitman. 
12s.  Qd.  net. 

SMITH,  H.  F.  RUSSELL,  Harrington  and  his  'Oceana.'  A  Study  of  a  17th 
Century  Utopia  and  its  Influence  in  America.  Cambridge,  Univ.  Press. 
6s.  Qd.  net. 

TENNYSON,  Av  LORD,  Poems  published  in  1842,  with  an  Introduction  and 
Notes  by  A.  M.  D.  Hughes.  Oxford,  Clarendon  Press.  4s.  Qd. 

WORDSWORTH,  W.,  Poems,  1807.  Edited  by  H.  Darbishire.  Oxford,  Clarendon 
Press.  4s.  Qd. 


German. 

(a)     General  (it 


I.  Language}. 


MULLER-FRAUREUTH,  K.,  Wb'rterbuch  der  obersachsischen  und  erzgebirgischen 
Mundarten.  9.  und  10.  (Schluss-)  Lieferung.  Dresden,  W.  Baensch. 
Each  3  M.  50. 

SCHULZ,  H.,  Abriss  der  deutschen  Grammatik.  (Triibners  Philologische 
Bibliothek,  I.)  Strassburg,  K.  J.  Trubner.  2  M.  25. 

(b)     Old  and  Middle  High  German. 

GOGALA  DI  LEESTHAL,  0.,  Studien  iiber  Veldekes  Eneide.  (Acta  Germanica,  v.) 
Berlin,  Mayer  und  Miiller.  4  M.  50. 

PAUL,  H.,  Ulrich  von  Eschenbach  und  seine  Alexandreis.     Berlin,  E.  Ebering. 

4M. 
LINGERLE,'  0.  VON,  Freidanks  Grabmal  in  Treviso.     Leipzig,  Dyk.     3  M.  50. 


568  New  Publications 

(c)    Modern  German. 

ANGELUS  SILESIUS,  Der  Cherubinische  Wandersmann.  Nach  der  Ausgabe 
letzter  Hand  von  1675  herausg.  von  W.  Bolsche.  Jena,  Diederichs.  5  M. 

BECHTOLD,  A.,  J.  J.  Christoph  von  Grimmelshausen  und  seine  Zeit.  Heidelberg, 
C.  Winter.  8  M. 

BERTRAND,  J.  J.  A.,  Cervantes  et  le  romantisme  allemand.     Paris, 
10  fr. 

BERTRAND,  J.  J.  A.,  L.  Tieck  et  le  theatre  espagnol.     Paris,  Rieder.     4  fr. 
BEYEL,  F.,  Zum  Stil  des  Griinen  Heinrich.     Tubingen,  J.  C.  B.  Mohr.     4  M. 

CHAMBERLAIN,  H.  S.,  I.  Kant :  a  Study  and  a  Comparison  with  Goethe,  da 
Vinci,  Bruno,  Plato  and  Descartes.  *2  vols.  London,  Lane.  25s.  net. 

FORSTER,  J.  G.,  Tagebiicher.  Herausg.  von  P.  Zincke  und  A.  Leitzmann. 
(Deutsche  Literaturdenkmale  des  18.  und  19.  Jahrh.,  CXLIX.)  Berlin, 
B.  Behr.  10  M. 

GOTTLIEB,  E.,  Bicarda  Huch.  Ein  Beitrag  zur  Geschichte  der  deutschen  Epik. 
Leipzig,  B.  G.  Teubner.  5  M. 

GRILLPARZER,  F.,  Werke.  n.  Abt.,  vn.  Band.  Vienna,  Geiiach  und  Wiedling. 
8  Kr.  50. 

KOCH,  F.,  A.  Lindner  als  Dramatiker.  (Forschungen  zur  neueren  Literatur- 
geschichte,  XLVII.)  Weimar,  A.  Duncker.  5  M. 

LESSING,  C.  R.,  Biicher-  und  Handschriftensammlung,  herausg.  von  G.  Lessing. 
i.  Band.  Berlin,  S.  Calvary.  10  M. 

LIEPE,  W.,  Das  Religionsproblem  im  neueren  Drama  von  Lessing  bis  zur 
Romantik.  (Hermaea,  xn.)  Halle,  M.  Niemeyer.  8  M. 

LUTHER,  M.,  Ausgewahlte  Werke,  herausg.  von  H.  H.  Borcherdt.  n.  Bd. 
Munich,  G.  Midler.  6  M. 

MAGON,  L.,  Der  junge  Riickert.  Sein  Leben  und  Schaffen.  i.  Band.  Halle, 
M.  Niemeyer.  5  M. 

SCHLEGEL,  CAROLINE,  und  DOROTHEA  SCHLEGEL  in  Briefen.  Herausg.  von 
E.  Wieneke.  Weimar,  G.  Kiepenheuer.  6  M. 

SCHNASS,  F.,  Der  Dramatiker  Schiller.  Darstellung  seines  Werdens  und 
Wesens.  Leipzig,  E.  Wunderlich.  9  M. 

SCHONHOFF,  H.,  Geschichte  der  westfalischen  Dialektliteratur.  Miinster, 
A.  Greve.  1  M.  50. 

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