Skip to main content

Full text of "Modern language notes"

See other formats






f m 

C ,\ t' V >y 







Falconer, J. A., The Sources of A. Tale of Two Cities 1 

Chinard, Gilbert, Les Sources d'un poeme de Leconte de Lisle 10 

Crawford, J. P. W., A Note on the Comedia Calamita of Torres 

Naharro 15 

Thompson, E. N. S., Milton's Part in Theatrum Poetarum 18 

McCutcheon, Roger P., A Note on Cant , 22 

^^^-s, Love joy, A. O., Pride in Eighteenth-Century Thought 31 

Wharey, J. B., Bunyan's Mr. Badman Co 

Hayens, Kenneth, Schiller's Jungfrau von Orleans and the historic 

Maid of Orleans 79 

Thaler, Alwin, Was Kichard Brome an Actor ? 88 

Van Roosbroeck, Gust. L., The Source of De Sallebray's Amante 

Ennemie 92 

ock, John S. P., Chaucer's " Eleanor " 95 

Beatty, Joseph M., Jr., Garrick, Colman, and The Clandestine 

Marriage 129 

Sloan, Arthur S., Juan de Luna's Lazarillo and the French Transla- 
tion of 1660 141 

Phelps, Ruth S., The Riming Clue in Dante 144 

Draper, John W., Queen Anne's Act: A Note on English Copyright, 146 

Mustard, W. P., Notes on Ben Jonson's Catiline 154 

Kuhl, E. P., Chaucer and the " Fowle Ok " 157 

Williams, Stanley T., The Early Sentimental Dramas of Richard 

Cumberland 1 6Q 

Frank, Grace, Critical Notes on the Palatine Passion 193 

Hohlfeld, A. R., The Poems in Carlyle's Translation of Wilhelm 

Meister 205 

Emerson, O. F., Two Notes on Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. . . . 212 

Davidson, L. J., Forerunners of Goldsmith's The Citizen of the World, 215 

Goddard, Eunice R., Color in Lamartine's Jocclyn 221 

Schaffer, Aaron, The Sources of Theodore de Banville's Gringoire. . . . 225 

Guyer, Foster E., " C'est nous qui sommes les anciens " 257 

Haraszti, Jules, En glanant chez La Fontaine 264 

0urry, Walter C., Two Notes on Chaucer 272 

Morley, Edith J., Joseph Warton's Criticism of Pope 276 

Jordan, John C., Davenport's The City Nightcap and Greene's 

Philomela 281 

Kuhl, Ernest P., Shakspere's Purpose in Dropping Sly 321 

Knowlton, E. C., Nature in Earlier Italian 329 

Dale, George I., The Date of Antonio de Villegas' Death 334 

Thaler, Alwin, Thomas Goffe's Praeludium 337 




Sherwin, Proctor F., Detached Similes in Milton's Epics 341 

Cobb, Margaret E., Pope's Lines on Atticus 348 

Perott, Joseph de, Welsh Bits in the Tudor and Stuart Drama 352 

N / Havens, George R., The Theory of " Natural Goodness " in Rousseau's 

Nouvelle Helwse 385 

Heuser, Frederick W. J., Personal and Literary Relations of Haupt- 

mann and Wedekind 395 

Williams, Stanley T., The Dramas of Richard Cumberland 403 

Campbell, Oscar J., Wordsworth Bandies Jests with Matthew 408 

Himes, John A., Further Interpretations of Milton 414 

Eddy, William A., A Source for Gulliver's Travels 419 

Williams, Ralph C., Metrical Form of the Epic, as discussed by six- 
teenth-century Critics 449 

Guillaume, Gabrielle, The Prologues of the Lay le Freine and Sir 

Orfeo 458 

Hankiss, Jean, Schelandre et Shakespeare 464 

McKillop, Alan D., Some Early Traces of Rabelais in English 

Literature 469 

Cox, Sidney H., Chaucer's Cheerful Cynicism 475 


Richard T. Holbrook, Etude sur Pathelin. [Louis Cons.'] 37 

James F. Mason, Pierre Loti, Pecheur d'Islande. [Horatio E. Smith.] 43 
Frank W. Chandler, The Contemporary Drama of France. [William 

H. Scheifley.] 45 

Walther Kiichler, Remain Rolland, Henri Barbusse, Fritz von Uuruh. 

Vier Vortrage. [Paul R. Pope.] 48 

Gustave Lanson, Esquisse d'une histoire de la tragfidie frangaise. 

[H. Carrington Lancaster.] 98 

Sir Israel Gollancz, A Good Short Debate between Winner and Waster. 

[J. M. Steadman, Jr.] 103 

' P. B. Fay, The Use of Tu and Vous in Moliere. [Edward H. Sirich.] 110 
Watson Nicholson, Anthony Aston, Stroller and Adventurer. [Oral 

8. Goad.] 112 

J.-Roger Charbonnel, La Pens6e italienne au XVIe siecle et le courant 

libertin. [ John L. Gerig.] 166 

Albrecht Janssen, Die Frauen rings um Friedrich Hebbel. Neue 

Materialien zu ihrer Erkenntnis. [T. M. Campbell.] 174 

Karl Young, Ordo Rachelis. [Grace Frank.] 180 

Gordon Hall Gerould, Saints' Legends. [George L. Hamilton.] 230 

Kenneth Hayens, Theodor Fontane. A Critical Study. [F. Schoene- 

mann.] 242 

Shirley G. Patterson, L'Etat de Guerre and Projet de Paiai Per- 

petuelle, two essays by J.-J. Rousseau. [Albert Schinm.] 245 



Milton A. Buchanan and Bernard Franzen-Swedelius, Lope de Vega, 

Amar sin Saber a Quien. [E. C. Hills.] ....................... 284 

Agnes R. Rlddell, Flaubert and Maupassant: A Literary Relation- 

ship. [Ray P. Bowen.] ..................................... 293 

Robert Withington, English Pageantry, An Historical Outline. Vol- 

ume II. [Howard R. Patch.] ................................ 296 

Hyder E. Rollins, Old English Ballads, 1553-1625. [H. M. Belden.] . . 300 
Lawrence M. Price, English-German Literary Influences. Biblio- 

graphy and Survey. [F . Schoenemann.] ...................... 354 

Ferdinand Lot, Etude sur le Lancelot en prose. [Gertrude 

Schoepperle.] .............................................. 358 

Austin Smith, L'Influence des Lakistes sur les Romantiques Fran- 

ais. [Gilbert Chinard.] .................................... 363 

William Davids, Verslag van een onderzoek betreffende de betrek- 

kingen tusschen de Nederlandsche en de Spaansche letterkunde 

in de 16e-18e eeuw. [J. E. Gillet.] ........................... 366 

Walter C. Phillips, Dickens, Reade, and Collins. Sensation Novelists. 

[Samuel C. Chew.] .......................................... 369 

Albert Schinz, French Literature of the Great War. [Andre" Morize.] 422 
T. B. Rudmose-Brown, La, Galerie du Palais, come'die par Pierre 

Corneille, edited. [H. Carrington Lancaster.] ................. 427 

Emil Ermatinger, Gottfried Kellers 

Emil Ermatinger, Gottfried Kellers 

Briefe und Tagebucher; 
Max Kalbeck, Paul Heyse und Gott- 

fried Keller im Briefwechsel. 
Johnson Club Papers by Various Hands. [James H. Pitman.] ...... 436 

Friedrich Kluge, Etymologisches Worterbuch der deutschen Sprache. 

[W. Kurrelmeyer.] ......................................... 482 

Louise Pound, Poetic Origins and the Ballad. [Albert H. Tolman.] 490 
Hermann Suchier, Aucassin und Nicolette. [W. L. Bullock.] ....... 497 

C. H. C. Wright, Les Femmes Savantes, by Moliere. [M. P. Brush.] 502 


Woodbridge, Benj. M., Le Horla 51 

Chew, Samuel C., Beaumont on Drunkenness 53 

Le Boutillier, Mrs. Martin, Bale's Kynge Johan and The Troublesome 

Raigne 55 

Wiilliams, Stanley T., English Performances of Timon of Athens. ... 57 

Mustard, W. P., Pegasus as the Poet's Steed ,. 58 

Hulbert, J. R., An Hoccleve Itenr 59 

Taylor, Archer, " In the Evening Praise the Day " 115 

Taylor, Robert L., George Ticknor on Chateaubriand 118 

F ' Ha ^ 43 



Graves, Thornton S., The Echo-Device 120 

Hanford, James H., Milton and Ochino 121 

Hulbert, J. R., A Chaucer Item 123 

Tuell, Anne K., Note on Spenser's Clarion 182 

Hammond, Eleanor P., The Lost Quires of a Shirley Codex 184 

Woodbridge, Benj. M., Maupassant's Version of Les Dous Amanz. . . . 185 

Raven, Anton A., A Note on King Lear 187 

Havens, Raymond D., Aaron Hill's Poem on Blank Verse 247 

Merrill, L. R., George Herbert's Church Porch 249 

Hammond, Eleanor P., The Texts of Lydgate's Danse Macabre 250 

Bush,' J. D., A Note on Beowulf 1600-1605 251 

Kennedy, Arthur G., A Bibliography of the English Language 304 

Baum, Paull F., Chaucer's " Faste by the Belle," C. T. A 719 307 

Tuell, Anne K., The Original End of Faerie Queene, Book III 309 

Nichols, Charles W., The Date of Tumble-Down Dick 312 

Leisy, Ernest E., John TrumbulPs Indebtedness to Thomas Warton. . 313 

Williams, Stanley T., The Sources of Lander's Gebir 315 

Peck, Walter E., A Note on Shelley and Peacock 371 

Smith, Preserved, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern 374 

Parry, John J., Doctor Johnson's Interest in Welsh 374 

Baldwin, Edward C., The Authorized Version's Influence upon Milton's 

Diction 376 

Benham, Allen R., A Note on the Comedy of Errors 377 

Henning, Geo. N., Toutes Choses 438 

Trombley, Albert E., A Note on Bird's Victor Hugo apres 1830 .... 439 

Van Roosbroeck, G. L., The Birthplace of Puget de la Serre 440 

Woodbridge, Benj. M., Pathelin, Line 344 441 

Beatty, Joseph M., Jr., Notes on the Authorship of The North Briton, 442 

Wise, B. A., The Disjunctive Possessive 503 

Greg, W. W., Bale's Kynge Jolum 505 

Gilbert, A. H., A Note on Shelley, Blake, and Milton 505 

Sly, Blanche C., The Bent Bow 507 


Erich Neuner, Ueber ein- und dreihebige Halbverse in der alteng- 

lischen alliterierenden Poesie. [J. W. Bright.} 59 

M. A. Bayfield, A Study of Shakespeare's Versification. [J. 11". 

Bright.] 63 

Eduard Eckhardt, Chaucers Sprache und Verskunst, dargestellt von 

Bernhard ten Brink. [J. W. Bright.] 123 

Robert M. Gay, Writing Through Reading. [J. C. French.] 127 

Mairet's Illustre Corsaire. [H. C. Lancaster.] 128 

Frederick M. Padelford, The Poems of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey. 

[J. W. Bright.] 188 

W 7 . F. Smith, Readings from Rabelais. [H. C. Lancaster.] 192 



Arthur G. Kennedy, The Modern English Verb-Adverb Combination. 

[J. W. Bright.] 252 

- Albert Keiser, The Influence of Christianity on the Vocabulary of Old 

English Poetry. [J. W. Bright.] 315 

Frank L. Schoell, Charlemagne (The Distracted Emperor) Drame 

Elisabethan Anonyme. [8. C. Cheiv.] 318 

Mary, Countess of Lovelace, Ralph, Earl of Lovelace: a Memoir. 

[J. D. Bruce.] : 319 

Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, On the Art of Reading. [J. W. Bright.] . . 378 
E. M. Smith-Dampier, Danish Ballads, translated. [H. M. Belden.] . . 381 
B. Delbriick, Grundlagen der neuhochdeutschen Satzlehre. [G. 0. 

Curme.] 382 

Frank G. Hubbard, The First Quarto Edition of Shakespeare's 

Hamlet. [J. W. Tupper.] 383 

Richard F. Jones, The Background of The Battle of the Books. 

[J. W. Bright.] 443 

Hermann Fischer, Schwilbisches Worterbuch. [W. Kurrelmeyer.] .... 446 
Jean Vic, Charles Dufresny's Amusemens serieux et comiques. 

[J. E. Gillet.] 447 

J. Gomez Ocerfn y R. M. Tenreiro, Comedias de Lope de Vega, t. I. 

[J. RoUes.] 448 

Anne E. Burlingame, The Battle of the Books in its Historical 

Setting. [J. W. Bright.] 508 

Index 513 

Recent Publications i-xxxii 




Dickens' Tale of Two Cities really consists of two tales, which 
he contrived to interweave with more than his usual art. These 
are the story of Doctor Manette's living death in the Bastille and 
that of Sydney Carton's self-sacrifice on the scaffold. These con- 
stitute the two strong situations, the beginning and the end of the 
action, from which and towards which, in the finished novel, all 
intermediate action flows. It is interesting to see, as we presently 
shall, that it was just these two situations which, when the novel 
was in conception, first shaped themselves in Dickens' mind and 
thus originated the whole plot. 

We know from Dickens himself that the second, that of self- 
sacrifice, came first and was his motive in writing the novel at all. 
It occurred to him, he tells us in his preface, while acting in Wilkie 
Collins' play The Frozen Deep. This play turned on the sufficiently 
trite subject of contest between a successful and an unsuccessful 
lover. In disgust and vowing vengeance, the latter, Richard 
Wardour, offers himself for an expedition to the North Pole, in 
which his successful rival also engages. The expedition comes to 
grief. After some years the explorers determine to send a party 
to try to reach civilization and bring help. Frederick having 
volunteered, Richard does so too. The two get separated from the 
rest of the party; which succeeds in reaching Newfoundland, and 
finds there Clara, the apple of discord of the piece, come out from 
England in search of news. In despair, she is now preparing to 
sail for home again, when Richard appears, in the last stage of 


exhaustion, carrying Frederick, whom he lays at Clara's feet. He 
confesses that he had originally meant to kill his rival but that 
gradually his heart had softened ; in point of fact he had cared for 
him and deprived himself of food for his sake. Now worn out by 
hardship, he dies while Frederick recovers. 1 

In the private theatricals in summer, 1857, at which Dickens 
produced this fantastic play, he took the part of Kichard Wardour 
himself, and, in his usual way, not played it merely but lived it. 
From identifying himself with the character to the desire to em- 
body it in a novel was an easy step, but for some months, as Forster 
indicates, the idea took no definite shape. 2 In other words, he had 
conceived so far merely the general situation a man for love's 
sake giving his life for his rival without details or local setting. 

Thus the matter rested till the beginning of the following year. 
Little Dorrit had to be got off the stocks and it is not till the 
opening months of 1858 that we have indications of the new novel 
in his mind. Then it is evident that the second of the situations 
has now presented itself. His mind is now dwelling not on the 
end of the story but, naturally enough, on the beginning, to which 
he wished to get started. We find him proposing to call the novel 
One of these Days, or Buried Alive, or The Thread of Gold (in 
allusion to the power of Lucie Manette to make her father forget 
his past, as in the novel, Book n, chap. 4), or The Doctor of 
Beauvais 3 These titles all refer to the Doctor Manette side of 
the novel and he has obviously got it clear before his mind's eye. 
Further he has fixed on France (Beauvais), and what other prison 
in France for burying a man alive in would he think of but the 
Bastille? In short, he had now, we cannot doubt, decided on the 
French Revolution as the scene of events. 

This he did under the influence of Carlyle's The French Revo- 
lution which, eight years before this, he declared he had read for 
the five hundredth time. 4 Carlyle suggested the theatre of events ; 

*In some insignificant details such as the names of the characters, the 
original play differs from the story Collins afterwards made from it to 
read during his tour in the United States, 1873-74, .and which may be 
found in the Tauchnitz Edition: The Frozen Deep and Other Stories. 
There is an abstract of it in C. Bottger's dissertation, Charles Dickens' his- 
toriseher Roman " A Tale of Two Cities," 1913. 

3 Forster's Life of Dickens, Bk. ix, ch. 2. 

fb. *lb; vi, ch. 3. 

indirectly he was responsible for the figure of Dr. Manette too. 
For, having definitely chosen the French Kevolution as the setting 
for his plot, he applied, as he himself tells us, to Carlyle for hooks 
on the subject and obtained in reply "two cartloads," among 
which almost certainly was " the curious book printed at Amster- 
dam," Mercier J s Tableau de Paris. From it he got not only, what 
he admits, 5 the material for his evil Marquis, but also, a much 
more important matter, the suggestion for the whole Dr. Manette 
story. 6 

For in Mercier will be found an anecdote, told with feeling and 
vivid detail, of one of the prisoners released from the Bastille by 
an act of clemency on the accession of Louis XVI, " un vieillard 
qui, depuis quatre-sept annees, gemissoit, detenu entre quatre 
epaisses et froides murailles." "La porte basse de son tombeau 
tourne sur ses gonds effrayants, s'ouvre, non a demi, comme de 
coutume, et une voix inconnue lui dit qu'il peut sortir. II croit 
que c'est un reve. II hesite, il se leve, s'achemine d'un pas trem- 
blant, et s'etonne de 1'espace qu'il parcourt. . . . H s'arrete comme 
egare et perdu; ses yeux ont peine a supporter la clarte du grand 
jour; il regarde le ciel comme un objet nouveau; son rail est fixe; 
il ne peut pas pleurer. Stupefait de pouvoir changer de place, ses 
jambes, malgre lui, demeurent aussi immobiles que sa langue." He 
is conducted to the street where he had lived; his house is gone, 
the whole quarter is changed, nobody knows him. His tears and 
his strange clothing collect a pitying crowd around him. Ulti- 
mately an old servant of the family is found, from whom he hears 
that his wife had died thirty years before of grief and misery, that 
his children are dispersed in other lands, that his friends are all 
gone. Overwhelmed with grief, he goes to the minister to whom 
he owes his release and begs to be returned to his cell. " Separe" 
de la societe, je vivois avec moi-meme. Ici, je ne puis vivre ni 
avec moi ni avec les hommes nouveaux, pour qui mon d6sespoir 
n'est qu'un reve." The minister, touched by his unhappy case, 
puts him in the care of the old servant "qui pouvoit lui parler 
encore de sa femme et de ses enfants. . . . II ne voulut point com- 
muniquer avec la race nouvelle qu'il n'avoit pas vu naitre ; il se fit 

Forster, ix, chap. 2. 

W. Dibelius: Charles Dickens. Teubner, 1916, p. 333. Professor Di- 
belius kindly supplied me with chapter and verse in Mercier. 


au milieu de la ville une espece de retraite non moins solitaire que 
le cachot qu'il avoit habite pres d'un demi-siecle." 7 

Here we have the prototype of Dickens' prisoner of the Bastille, 
"recalled to life" indeed but bewildered by and incapable of it. 
Manette too is released on Louis XVFs accession (the action of 
the novel begins in 1775), his wife is long dead of a broken heart, 
his daughter is in England, he is tended by his old servant Defarge 
who provides for him " une espece de retraite " his garret. 

By what alchemy Dickens metamorphosed this slight story it is 
needless to say; but its identity in all essentials with his is self- 

So much for Mercier. In The French Revolution itself however 
there are two passages which are worth attention in this connection. 
Carlyle relates how, after the storming of the Bastille, a letter was 
found written long years before by a wretched prisoner to some 
monseigneur begging for news of his wife, " were it only her name 
on a card, to show that she is alive." 8 In The Tale of Two Cities 
just such a pitiful paper is sought for and found at the storming 
of the Bastille and some lines in it so clearly echo the corresponding 
words of Carlyle as to leave no doubt regarding cause and effect. 
I place them side by side : 9 


If for my consolation Monseig- If it had pleased God to put it 
neur would grant me, for the sake into the hard heart of either of the 
of God and the Most Blessed Trin- brothers, in all these frightful years, 
ity, that I could have news of my to grant me any tidings of my 
dear wife ; were it only her name on dearest wife so much as to let me 
a card, to show that she is alive! know by a word whether alive or 
It were the greatest consolation I dead I might have thought that 
could receive; and I should forever He had not quite abandoned them, 
bless the greatness of Monseigneur. Bk. m, ch. 10. 

The echo is audible enough in the language ; there is just as much 
echo in the incidents. 

The other passage in Carlyle is that which tells of Loiserolles' 
self-sacrifice. " The Tumbrils move on. But in this set of Tum- 

T Louis SSbastien Mercier, Le Tableau de Paris, Amsterdam, 1782, chap. 

The French Revolution, Vol. I, Bk. v, chap. 7. 

As Bottger has done (p. 13) to show Carlyle's general influence, with- 
out however attaching any further importance to the passage. 

brils there are two other things notable: one notable person; and 
one want of a notable person. The notable person is Lieutenant- 
General Loiserolles, a nobleman by birth and by nature; laying 
down his life here for his son. In the Prison of Saint-Lazare, the 
night before last, hurrying to the Grate to hear the Death-list read, 
he caught the name of his son. The son was asleep at the moment. 
' I am Loiserolles,' cried the old man ; at Tinville's bar, an error 
in the Christian name is little; small objection was made/' 10 
Here is a deed which appeals impressively to the imagination and 
might well recur to Dickens when the idea of self-sacrifice was 
occupying his mind and he was hunting around for a striking 
shape to give it. But one must not press conjectures to unde- 
monstrable conclusions ; there is here no necessary connection. Let 
the resemblance stand for what it is worth. 

What is submitted here is that Mercier and Carlyle had a more 
immediate and important share in the invention of Dickens' plot 
than is commonly supposed. In two if not in all three of the 
passages mentioned above, they supplied the sparks (though no 
more) which started Dickens' invention off along the lines it 
actually took. The evolution seems to me to have been in some- 
what the following order. Wilkie Collins' play supplied the germ 
of Sydney Carton and his heroism; Carlyle suggested the French 
Revolution as a melodramatic setting ; perhaps too the great closing 
scenes of the prison and guillotine; Mercier gave him the Dr. 
Manette story, and into this readily fitted the letter episode from 


If this be so, it may clear up a mystery which caused consider- 
able controversy at the time. While Dickens' novel was appearing 
serially in All The Year Round, a play called The Dead Heart was 
produced at the Adelphi bearing so startling a resemblance to A 
Tale of Two Cities that the author, Watts Phillips, was charged 
with plagiarism. Yet it had been written in 1856 and accepted by 
the Adelphi the same year, long before ever Dickens had so much 
as thought of his novel. The play, which is difficult to get, is as 

10 The French Revolution, Vol. in, bk. VI, chap. 7. This resemblance too 
is noted by Bottger but relegated to the insignificance of a footnote (p.'20). 


In the Prologue, the events of which take place in Paris in 1771, 
Kobert Landry, a young sculptor, is affianced to Catherine Duval, 
the daughter of a Paris vintner. She is forcibly abducted by the 
Comte St. Valerie, who contrives to have Landry thrown into the 
Bastille on a lettre de cachet. The main action begins with the 
release of Landry at the storming of the Bastille, eighteen years 
later. (Thus as in Dickens an early wrong, a later consequence, 
in two separate stories.) Old friends recognize him and the past 
gradually comes back to his bewildered brain. He hears that Cath- 
erine has married St. Valerie, but is now a widow with one son 
Arthur. He determines to avenge himself on the son. He becomes 
a deputy of the people, through him Arthur is arrested and 
condemned to death. The morning of his execution, Catherine 
gains access to Landry and pleads for her son's life. He remains 
insensible to her. At the very moment however when the tumbrils 
are beginning to rumble past the prison, he receives convincing 
proof that Catherine had loved him all the time and even that St. 
Valerie had been innocent of the worst of the wrong done to him. 
He arranges for Arthur's instant flight from Paris and takes 
Arthur's place in the waiting tumbril. The curtain falls on 
Landry mounting the scaffold. 

Here you have all the impressive paraphernalia of the Terror 
just as in Dickens ; an innocent man flung into the Bastille at the 
will of an aristocrat ; a " dead heart " brought back to life after 
eighteen years; Nemesis threatening not the wrong-doer himself 
but his son ; the final situation duplicating Dickens in almost every 
detail. No two stories could well be more similar without being 
identical and it is no wonder that suspicion fell on Phillips. He 
retorted by declaring that Dickens was the borrower, having heard 
the play read aloud by Ben Webster, the manager of the Adelphi, 
who was a friend of Dickens. The statement wants proof. Mr. Percy 
Fitzgerald nevertheless goes so far as to allow that Dickens may 
have been told the plot of the play. 11 But the case is surely expli- 
cable otherwise. Phillips admittedly owed, like Dickens, the local 
colour of his play to Carlyle's book ; may he too not have obtained 
the suggestion for his two main situations (Bastille and guillotine) 
from it and Mercier's Tableau? In other words, Dickens did not 
borrow from Phillips nor was it a case of mere coincidence ; it was 

u Percy Fitzgerald, Life of Charles Dickens, 1905, n, 195-196. 


a case of common source. I am not the first to come to this con- 
clusion. Phiz wrote at the time to one of his sons in connection 
with the novel : " A rather curious thing happened with this book. 
Watts Phillips, the dramatist, hit upon the very same identical 
plot ; they had evidently been to the same source in Paris for their 
story." 12 And to Chelsea, I would add. 


Another coincidence remains to be pointed out, this time with 
a greater than Phillips. To most readers one of the most original 
scenes in all Dickens (as it is certainly one of the most impressive) 
is, I fancy, that in which the Doctor of Beauvais is summoned at 
night to attend a dying woman in a mysterious chateau. 13 Yet 
that there is nothing new under the sun is shown by the occurrence 
in the fifth canto of Scott's EoTceby of an identical scene. 

Edmund's ballad in that canto runs thus : 

" ' And whither would you lead me, then ? ' 

Quoth the friar of orders grey; 
And the ruffians twain replied again, 
' By a dying woman to pray.' 

"'I see,' he said, 'a lovely sight, 

A sight bodes little harm, 
A lady as a lily bright, 
With an infant on her arm.' 

" ' Then do thine office, friar grey, 
And see thou shrive her free; 
Else shall the sprite that parts tonight, 
Fling all its guilt on thee.' 

"The shrift is done, the friar is gone, 

Blindfolded as he came 
Next morning all in Littlecot Hall 
Were weeping for their dame." 

This ballad, Scott tells us, 14 was founded on a story in Aubreys 

M F. G. Kitton, The Novels of Charles Dickens, 1897, p. 178. These par- 
ticulars from Fitzgerald and Kitton I owe to Fraulein Kathe Tamsen of 
Hamburg University, who kindly copied out extracts from books not ob- 
tainable by me in Holland. 

M A Tale of Two Cities, Bk. in, chap. 10. 

14 The Poetical Works, Author's Edition, ed. by J. G. Lockhart, 1869. 
Notes to Rokeby, p. 390. 


Correspondence to this effect. " Sir Dayrell of Littlecote, 

in Corn. Wilts., having gott his lady's waiting woman with child, 
when her travell came, sent a servant with a horse for a midwife, 
whom he was to bring hoodwinked. She was brought, and layd 
the woman, but as soon as the child was born, she sawe the knight 
take the child and murther it, and burn it in the fire in the 
chamber. She having done her businesse was extraordinarily re- 
warded for her paines, and sent blindfolded away." Having drawn 
her own conclusions from what she had been permitted to see, she 
immediately gives information, the deed is traced to Dayrell, and 
he is brought to trial; the unexpected upshot of which, acquittal 
through bribery, being the occasion of Aubrey's report. 15 In an 
Edinburgh tradition (related by Scott in the same long note), the 
person summoned is a clergyman, and this clergyman it is, Aubrey's 
midwife not being a sufficiently romantic figure, that Scott intro- 
duced, tricked out in a friar's frock, into his ballad. In the tra- 
dition, as in the ballad, it is the woman, not the child, who dies. 

Here then, in three different stories all antecedent to Dickens, 
we have his very situation of the midnight call to a bedside, the 
compromising amour, the beautiful woman on the bed, the tragic 
close. Did he know any of the three? Who shall say? lie knew 
Scott's writings well for one thing; he was keenly interested in 
criminal cases such as Aubrey relates, for another. His large 
library too contained many old authors like Burton and Bacon 
and Evelyn, 16 so that it is less improbable than one might suppose 
from Dickens' unscholarly turn of mind, that he had read Aubrey 
and come across the anecdote there. At any rate Scott's poem with 
the highly interesting note was accessible to him. Whether he had 
read the poem or, if he had, was struck by the insignificant ballad 
sufficiently to consult the note, is a wholly different matter. 

And there is another point at which Dickens may have come 
into contact with the story. Littlecote Hall is not hid away in a 
hole and corner. The old manor house is visible to this day from 
the Bath Eoad two miles from Hungerford and this story of 
" Wild Darrell," as he was called, was well known in the neighbor- 
hood as late at least as the eighties when Outram Tristram wrote 

"/&., Scott's note. 

" For these particulars on Dickens' reading and library, cf . Dibelius, 
Charles Dickens, p. 298. 


his Coaching Days and Coaching Ways. There is no reason why 
Dickens on one of his numerous journeyings should not have heard 
the story on the spot. Marlborough Downs close by were evi- 
dently known to him, judging by " The Bagman's Story " in 
The Pickwick. He probably passed along the Great Bath 
Eoad westward or eastward bound more than once in his restless 
life and can scarcely have failed to notice the quaint Tudor gables 
of Littlecote or ask their history. The " haunted room " is still 
shown at Littlecote, and the country folk still point out the stile 
where Darrell, having saved his neck from the rope, broke it at 
length by a fall while riding, his horse having shied violently at a 
flaming babe in the path! Darrell, it seems, was what we call 
" a thoroughly bad lot," and notorious for more than the midwife 
affair. He was " at feud with all his neighbours, accused of one 
murder, suspected of another, his name a byword for profligacy 
and something worse " ; 17 * he ran away with Lady Hungerford, his 
neighbour's wife, and, what brings us nearer to our story, was 
reported to have had several children by the sister of one of his 
servants and to have murdered one of them. 18 Quite a marquis- 
like figure this! Apart altogether from tradition, there exist, as 
the letter just quoted shows, authentic documents about the inter- 
esting owner of Littlecote, Darrell papers at the Record Office, and 
the deposition made on her deathbed by Mrs. Barnes the midwife. 
Littlecote Hall figures in history j\ist a hundred years after 
Darrell's time. It was there that William of Orange lay the night 
after his meeting with King James' commissioners at Hungerford 
in December, 1688. The fact is thus noted by Macaulay. " He 
retired to Littlecote Hall, a manor house situated about two miles 
off, and renowned down to our own times, not more on account of 
its venerable architecture and furniture than on account of a hor- 
rible and mysterious crime which was perpetrated there in the days 
of the Tudors." 19 Now Macaulay may have learned this story 
from Scott's note to Eolcely which he mentions in a footnote for 
the word "renowned" is only Macaulayan hyperbole. In which 
case Dickens may have learned it there too, perhaps attracted to it 

17 Prof. Dibelius points this out to me. 

17a Outram Tristram, Coaching Days and Coaching Ways, p. 46. 

18 Letter from Sir H. Knyvelt of Charlton, quoted by Tristram, p. 47. 
M History of England, chap. ix. The italics are mine. 


by this very passage in Macaulay which is sufficiently striking. 
Or the story may really have been known to a considerable circle 
in the world at large, to Scott for example, and why then not to 
Dickens ? 

All which goes to show that the sinister scene enacted that wild 
night in the room at Littlecote was not by any means too obscure 
for Dickens to stumble across somewhere or somehow in his quest 
of the sensational. Whether he did or not, the analogy is too curi- 
ously close not to be worth noticing. 


The University of Gronvngen. 


Dans son etude sur Us Sources de Leconte de Lisle, Montpeilier, 
1907, M. Joseph Vianey indique comme source probable du Calu- 
met du Sachem (Poemes tragiques, xxxii), le Voyage pittoresque 
dans les Grands Deserts du Nouveau Monde de Fabbe Em. Dome- 
nech (Paris, Morizot, s. d.). La preface est datee de 1860, dit 
M. Vianey. L'edition que j'ai sous les yeux, et qui semble etre en 
tout la meme, est datee de 1862. 

Les rapprochements indiques par M. Vianey, Voyage pittoresque, 
ch. xiii, p. 124; ch. xvii, p. 586; ch. xiv, p. 459, sont de valeur 
inegale. Le premier passage cite" renferme des indications assez 
generates sur le dolce far niente cher aux Peaux-Rouges et leur 
gout pour les reveries que leur procurent leurs "pipes de steatite 
rouge." Le second est une tres breve description des idees qu'ont 
les Indiens sur Fautre vie et pourrait en effet avoir inspire au 
moins une strophe du poeme, Favant-derniere. Le troisieme, qui 
contient un tableau tres colore des forets du Nouveau Monde, 
merite d'etre etudie dans le detail et nous y reviendrons plus loin. 

Disons sans plus attendre, qu'il faut savoir gre a M. Vianey 
d'avoir le premier signale Fouvrage de Fabbe Domenech que Le- 
conte de Lisle a certainement utilise, dans une plus large mesure 
meme que M. Vianey ne Fa indique. Domenech n'est cependant 
point la seule source du Calumet du Sachem. Leconte de Lisle a 
puise non pas a une source unique, mais au moins a deux et presque 
certainement a trois, comme une analyse detaillee du poeme nous 
permettra de le demontrer. 


Les deux premieres strophes eveillent dans la memoire un echo 
f amilier : 

Les cedres et les pins, les hetres, les Arables, 
Dana leur antique orgueil des siecles respecte", 
Haussent de toutes parts avec rigiditg 
La noble ascension de leurs troncs ve"n6rables 
Jusqu'aux domes feuillus, chauds des feux de Pete". 

Sous 1'enchevetrement de leurs vastes ramures 
La terre fait silence aux pieds de ses vieux rois. 
Seuls, au fond des lointains myste'rieux, parfois, 
Naissent, croissent, s'en vont, renaissent les murmures 
Que soupire sans fin Tame immense des bois. 

Ce n'est point chez le brave missionnaire qui visita surtout les 
deserts du Texas que Leconte de Lisle a cette fois trouve son 
inspiration, mais simplement dans I'Evangeline de Longfellow dont 
on m'excusera de citer le de"but pour le lecteur frangais. 

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, 
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, 
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, 
Stand like harpers hoar, with beard that rest on their bosoms. 
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep voiced neighbouring ocean 
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. 

Les Druids of eld sont devenus les " vieux rois/' les arbres sont 
quelque peu differents, mais le trait final qui donne un accent 
particulier a tout le passage est le meme chez les deux poetes. Le 
rapprochement est d'autant plus probable qu'a la date ou parurent 
les Poemes tragiques plusieurs traductions tfEvangeline avaient 
ete publie*es et que le poeme de Longfellow etait connu et celebre en 
France depuis longtemps. 

C'est a un passage non moins connu, cette fois d'un grand auteur 
frangais, que font penser les strophes suivantes : 

Les grands elans, couches parmi les cyprieres, 

Sur leurs dos musculeux renversent leurs cols lourds; 

Les pantheres, les loups, les couguars et les ours 

Se sont tapis, repus des chasses meurtrieres, 

Au creux des arbres morts et dans les antres sourds. 

Ecureuils, perroquets, ramiers a gorge bleue 
Dorment. Les singes noirs, du haut des sassafras, 
Sans remuer leur tete et leurs reins au poil ras, 
A la branche qui ploie appendus par la queue, 
Laissent inertement aller leurs maigrej bras. 


Les crotales love's sous quelque roche chaude, 

Attendent une proie errante, et, par moment, 

De 1'ombre oil leurs fronts plats s'allongent lentement, 

Le feu subtil de leurs prunelles d'emeraude 

Luit, livide, et jaillit dans un p6tillement. 

Apres avoir cite une page de Domenech, ch. xiv, p. 459, M. Vi- 
aney ajoute en note: "dans ce dernier passage le voyageur decrit 
la foret au moment oil les animaux s'agitent et orient, tandis que 
le poete la decrit au moment ou ils sont assoupis; mais c'est la 
meme foret." II se peut en effet que Leconte de Lisle ait em- 
prunte quelques traits au voyageur missionnaire ; mais plus encore 
qu'a la foret de Domenech c'est a la description du Mississipi par 
laquelle debute Atala que font invinciblement penser les strophes 
que nous venons de citer, et c'est encore plus peut-etre a la fuite 
d' Atala et de Chactas dans la foret: "Des insectes sans nombre, 
d'enormes chauves-souris nous aveuglaient; les serpents a sonnettes 
bruissaient de toutes parts, et les loups, les ours, les carcajous, les 
petits tigres, qui venaient se cacher dans ces retraites les rem- 
plissaient de leurs rugissements." Je reconnais cependant que ce 
n'est ni a Chateaubriand ni a Domenech que Leconte de Lisle a 
emprunte ces " singes noirs " dont la presence est assez surpre- 
nante dans une foret de 1'Amerique du Nord et qui remplacent, 
sans avantage, les fameux ours ivres de raisin que Ton a tant re- 
proches a 1'auteur ft Atala. Ni Chateaubriand, ni Domenech ne 
decrivent en detail 1'elan que Leconte de Lisle semble bien avoir 
peint d'apres nature apres une promenade dans un jardin zoolo- 
gique. Mais c'est bien le grand poete de la nature americaine qui 
a fourni les ecureuils, les perroquets, la cypriere, les sassafras, les 
serpents a sonnettes ennoblis du nom de crotales et les couleurs 
memes dont Leconte de Lisle a garni sa palette. 

Par centre, s'il doit peu a 1'abbe Domenech pour la partie pure- 
ment descriptive de son poeme, c'est bien a lui que Leconte de Lisle 
a emprunte le caractere de son heros. II me parait s'etre surtout 
servi de deux passages que n'indique pas M. Vianey. 

Le vieux sachem, le dernier Sagamore des Florides, 
ayant vu ses guerriers exiles et chasses par les Blancs, 

Par deia le grand fleuve ou meurent les bisons . . . 
Est revenu mourir au berceau des aieux. 


II est la, assis centre le tronc d'un sycomore geant, ses armes sur 
ses genoux, dans toute sa peinture de guerre, une plume d'ara 
jaune et pourpre au sommet de la tete et pour la derniere fois, 
fume son calumet, en attendant la mort. II salt que les fauves de 
la foret rodent autour de lui prets a se jeter sur lui pour dechirer 
sa chair, mais il est perdu dans la contemplation du monde ou 
vont les guerriers apres leur mort, 

Dans les bois ou 1'esprit des Sachems s'envola 
Et dans la volupte" des choses e"ternelles. 
Viennent pantheres, loups et couguars, le voila. 

Or, 1'abbe Domenech, a la fin du chapitre xv, p. 523, mentionne, 
apres beaucoup d'autres d'ailleurs, le fait que "parmi les tribus 
pauvres du nord-ouest des Etats-TJnis, on abandonne les vieillards 
qui ne peuvent marcher ni monter a cheval, soit a cause de leur 
age, soit a cause de leurs infirmites. Dans ces circonstances cru- 
elles, la resignation de ces malheureux est vraiment admirable. . . . 
Le pauvre delaisse meurt bientot de faim, et son corps devient la 
pature des oiseaux de proie." 

Plus frappant encore est Fepisode qui termine le chapitre sui- 
vant (ch. xvi, p. 552), dans lequel Domenech raconte comment le 
chef des Mandans, Mahtotopa, ayant vu disparaitre tous les siens 
a la suite d'une epidemic de petite verole resolut de ne pas leur 
survivre : 

" II mit sa coiffure en plumes d'aigle, qui tombait en eYentail jusqu'ft 
terre, il se couvrit de son manteau de peau d'hermine double de peau de 
cygne, il prit ses armes autrefois si terribles a ses ennemis, et il s'en alia 
sur une colline 61ev6e voisine de sa residence. Du sommet de cette colline 
il regarda les habitations sans feu de ses compagnons, il considra les rues 
et la grande place de son village, aujourd'hui d6sertes, hier encore si ani- 
m6es. ... II pria le Grand-Esprit de le recevoir dans la terre des ombres, 
dans les prairies enchanters, ou il retrouverait ses compagnons d'armes et 
sa famille bien-aime"e. Ses chants et ses pleurs durerent six jours, pendant 
lesquels il ne voulut rien manger pour ne pas survivre au d6sastre de sa 
nation. Le sixieme jour, il commenga le chant de mort; enfin la voix de 
Mahtotopa s'eteignit, ses pleurs se se"cherent, il se sentait de"faillir; alors 
il se tralna p^niblement vers sa cabane, s'e"tendit aupres des cadavres de 
ses enfants et rendit son dernier soupir, envelopp6 des insignes de sa 
gloire passed." 

II est difficile, ce me semble, de ne pas reconnaitre la Torigine 
des deux strophes suivantes: 


Assis centre le tronc ge"ant d'un sycomore, 
Le cou roide, les yeux clos comme s'il donnait, 
Une plume d'ara, jaune et pourpre, au sominet 
Du crane, le sachem, le dernier Sagamore 
Des Florides, est la fumant son calumet . . . 

Sa hache et son couteau, les armes du vrai brave, 
Gisent sur ses genoux. Le chef a d6nou6 
(Sa ceinture, et, dressant son torse tatouS 
D'ocre et de vermilion, il fume d'un air grave 
Sans qu'un pli de sa face austere ait remue". 

Pour 1'excellente raison que les " aras " ne se trouvent point 
dans 1'Amerique du Nord, Domenech, comme tous les voyageurs, 
ne fait aucune mention de la plume jaune et rouge que le sachem 
a fichee dans sa coiffure. Ses Indiens ne se servent guere comme 
ornements que de plumes d'aigle ou de plumes de corbeau. On peut 
se demander s'il n'y a pas la encore une influence indirecte de 
Chateaubriand. Leconte de Lisle ayant, apres lui, peuple sa foret 
de perroquets ne s'est guere inquiete ensuite ni de leur taille ni de 
leur couleur et a attribue aux sortes de petites perruches que 1'on 
trouvait autrefois frequemment en Floride et dans la vallSe du Mis- 
sissipi la parure eclatante des grands aras de 1'Amerique du Sud. 1 
Mais ce leger detail mis a part, c'est bien a 1'abbe Domenech que 
Leconte de Lisle doit la donnee premiere de son poeme. II se peut 
d'ailleurs, et je serais assez porte a le croire, qu'il ait subi plus ou 
moins consciemment des influences moins directes. A tout prendre, 
le theme central du Calumet du Sachem, quand on le depouille de 
ses broderies exotiques, c'est la melancolie qui ressort de la triste 
fin des races indigenes qui erraient librement dans les solitudes du 
nouveau monde avant Tarrivee des Europeens. C'est le sujet du 
roman de Cooper The Last of the Mohicans; c'est encore en un 
certain sens 1'idee qui a inspire Longfellow dans Hiawatha dont 
Baudelaire des 1868 avait traduit un fragment sous un titre, Le 
calumet de paix, qui rappelle singulierement celui du poeme de 
Leconte de Lisle. C'est enfin, si 1'on veut remonter a une origine 
qui pour etre plus lointaine n'en est pas moins importante, le theme 
meme que Chateaubriand s'etait propose de traiter dans son epopee 
des Natchez. GILBERT CHINAED. 

Johns Hopkins University. 

T Sur la presence des perroquets dans ces regions on pourra consulter 
mon volume sur L'exotisme americain dans I'ceuvre de Chateaubriand, 
Paris, 1918, p. 257. 


The plot of the Comedia Calamita x of Torres Naharro is fairly 
complex, but we can easily distinguish the central theme from the 
secondary incidents. The main theme is as follows: The young 
Floribundo falls madly in love with Calamita, a girl of apparently 
humble condition, and thereby incurs the displeasure of Euticio, 
Floribundo's father, who believes that his son has fallen into dis- 
solute ways. Floribundo is aided in the prosecution of his suit by 
his servant Jusquino, who bribes Libina, Calamita's sister-in-law, 
to allow the lover to enter her house. When the lovers meet, Cala- 
mita declares that she will not lose her honor for anything in the 
world, and that marriage cannot be thought of because of their 
relative social position. Floribundo replies that he has enough 
money to compensate for her lack of it, agrees to the condition of 
marriage, which Calamita imposes, and the young people are 
betrothed. Euticio becomes very angry on hearing of Floribundo's 
disobedience, and threatens to take lafrs life. The solution is brought 
about by the arrival of Trapaneo, an old acquaintance of Euticio, 
who first declares that he is Calamita's father, and later explains 
that she is the daughter of a wealthy Sicilian, whom he had saved 
from death and brought up in his own family as a daughter. 
Euticio accepts this proof of Calamita's respectability, and gladly 
consents to her marriage with Floribundo. 

Cases of mistaken identity, the correction of which offers a solu- 
tion of apparently unsurmountable difficulties, were common in 
Latin comedy. For example, in the Heautontimorumenos of 
Terence, Chremes commands that if his wife is delivered of a girl, 
the child shall immediately be killed. Having given birth to a 
girl, Sostrata sends her to an old woman named Philtera to be 
exposed. Instead of doing this, Philtera brings her up as her own 
daughter, with the name of Antiphila. Clinia, son of Menedemus, 
falls in love with her, and Menedemus opposes the youth's love to 
such a degree that he drives him from home. After a series of 
incidents which are quite dissimilar from anything in the Comedia 

1 The Comedia Calamita was probably first published at Seville in 1520, 
and is included in Mene"ndez y Pelayo's edition of the Propaladia de Barto- 
lome de Torres Naharro, Vols. rx-x of the Libros de Antano, Madrid, 



Calamita, the girl's real identity is discovered, and her marriage 
to Clinia follows as a matter of course. Aside from the incident 
of a girl baby ordered to be put to death by her father, there is a 
certain resemblance between Menedemus and Euticio, both fond of 
their sons, but willing to take extreme measures to prevent them, 
if possible, from contracting a misalliance. 

Still closer is the resemblance of the Comedia Calamita to the 
Comedia Dolotechne^ composed in Latin in the year 1504 by the 
Venetian Bartolomeo Zamberti. Sanesi 2 gives the following out- 
line of the plot of the Comedia Dolotechne : Policriso, an old man. 
desires to shield his son Mononio from the dangers of a dissolute 
life, and plans to arrange for his marriage with a young woman 
of his own station in life. He charges his servant Sfalero, who is 
supposed to guide Mononio in the paths of virtue, to persuade him 
to consent to the marriage. But, contrary to the expectations of 
the old man, Mononio has already fallen in love with Eodostoma, 
a young girl who had run away from home and had fallen into 
the hands of the ruffiano Crisofago, a brutal, greedy fellow, who 
is willing to turn her over to the highest bidder. His wife, Mero- 
fila, succeeds in protecting her in the hope of disposing of her at 
a high price, which the ruffiano has fixed at 300 minse. Merofila 
hears from Kodostoma the confession of her love for Mononio, and 
learns from the latter that he is enamored with Eodostoma. She 
declares that, if Mononio pays the 300 minae, Eodostoma will be 
his. The youth has no money, but Sfalero secures it from an old 
woman, Bdeliria, on a false promise that his master will return 
her love. Eodostoma then comes into the possession of Mononio, 
whose father bitterly reproaches him when he presents himself 
with his bride, and severely punishes Sfalero for his part in the 
affair. An old friend of Policriso, named Alitologo, then appears, 
who has spent years in search of his daughter who had been stolen 
from him. He recognizes in Eodostoma his daughter, and the two 
fathers gladly consent to the wedding. 

Without the text of the Comedia Dolotechne, it is impossible to 
speak with certainty regarding the relationship between these two 
plays, but they offer a striking resemblance even in this meager 
outline. The fathers Policriso and Alitologo correspond to Euticio 
and Trapaneo (except that Trapaneo has only acted as Calamita's 
father) ; the two young men are not dissolute, their disobedience 

'Ireneo Sanesi, La Commedia, Milan, 1911, I, 127-129. 


is caused by a genuine passion ; the intrigue is conceived and exe- 
cuted by the servants Sfalero and Jusquino, although the expedient 
by which the former obtains money to carry out his plan is not 
found in Naharro's play; both Eodostoma and Calamita have 
remained pure in spite of their environment, although the latter 
seems to have possessed more nobility of character ; a happy denoue- 
ment is brought about by evidence of mistaken identity. The chief 
difference between the two plays lies in the characters of the man 
and wife with whom the heroine is living, namely, Crisofago and 
Merifila and Torcazo and Libina. 

Torcazo is the type of complacent husband, easily imposed upon 
by his wife and others, which appears frequently in early Italian 
novelle and jest books. He offers many points of resemblance with 
Boccaccio's Calandrino and with Martin de Villalba in Lope de 
Rueda's Tercer Paso. His wife, Libina, is keenly conscious of her 
husband's stupidity, and does not hesitate to deceive him by 
admitting into her house a young student disguised as a woman. 
Jusquino finds that she is quite ready to encourage the suit of 
Floribundo in return for substantial payment in money. Torcazo 
also recalls Calandro in La Calandria (1513) of Bernardo Dovizi 
da Bibbiena, and it has been pointed out 3 that Jusquino's instruc- 
tions to Torcazo how to feign death, in the fifth act of Calamita, 
are derived from the ninth scene of the second act of La Calandria. 
While the setting of the two incidents differs somewhat, there is a 
verbal similarity which makes it more than probable that Torres 
Naharro borrowed the scene from the Italian dramatist. Further- 
more, the second scene of the first act of La Calandria, in which 
Polinico reproves Fessenio for encouraging the disobedience and 
misconduct of Lidio, reminds us of the scene in the third act of 
Calamita, in which Fileo holds Jusquino responsible for the way- 
wardness of Floribundo. The disguise adopted by Lidio in order 
to enter the house of Fulvia, Calandro's wife, recalls the intrigue 
by means of which the young student gains admission into the 
house of Torcazo, and in both cases the husband falls in love with 
his betrayer. Since La Calandria was not published until 1521, 
it is probable that Torres Naharro witnessed its performance in 
1513, and incorporated some of the incidents from memory into his 
own Calamita. j p WICKERSHAM CRAWFORD. 

University of Pennsylvania. 

* Francesco Flamini, II Cinquecento, Milan, p. 317. 



In the closing paragraph of the essay prefixed to Theatrum Poe- 
tarum Anglicanorum Edward Philips, the nephew of Milton, apolo- 
gizes for his occasional disagreement with " received opinion," on 
the ground that such divergence conies about not "out of affectation 
of singularity, but from a different apprehension, which a strict in- 
quiry into the truth of things . . . hath suggested to my reason." 
Another explanation, however, has been very generally advanced 
to account for the compiler's seeming independence of judgment. 
Philips is said to have incorporated his uncle's opinions not only 
in the body of his work, where he briefly characterizes the various 
writers, but also in the critical preface, which contains much that 
is sound and uplifting. The general belief, since Warton's day, 
is that the whole tone of the Preface is noticeably higher than the 
ordinary level of Philips's mental power. 1 

It is only natural that certain phrases in the Preface should call 
to the reader's mind corresponding thoughts in Milton's writings. 
At the beginning of the essay, Philips, with a marked air of supe- 
riority, calls attention to the disparity between men " how aspir- 
ing to the Perfection of knowledge the one, how immers't in 
swinish sloth and ignorance the other." These words suggest the 
Attendant Spirit's first speech in Comus. Immediately, Philips 
proceeds to speak of "the vulgar Multitude," those "who live 
Sardinapalian lives, . . . not caring to understand ought beyond 
to eat, drink, and play." Had the writer before him these lines 
from the second epic (P. R. 3, 49-51) : 

What the people but a herd confused, 

A miscellaneous rabble, who extol 

Things vulgar, and, well weighed, scarce worth the praise? 

Again, Philips seems to appreciate, as Milton did, the dignity of 
authorship. In offering his plea for " the well meaners only " in 
literature, Philips reminds us that the author of any "Poetical 

1 See T. Warton, Poems, ed. 1785, p. 60, and History of English Poetry, 
ed. 1840, m, p. 356; and N. Drake, Essays . . . illustrative of the Spec- 
tator, 1814, n, p. 135. 



Volume, be it never so small," is put to " the double expence of 
Brain to bring it forth and of purse to publish it to the world," 
and that "no Man designs to writ ill." This may seem only a 
faint echo of two fine passages of Areopagitica, one beginning, 
" A good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit," and 
the other, " When a man writes to the world, he summons up all 
his reason and deliberation to assist him." Other such corre- 
spondences in thought may easily be found, and the weight that 
they carry will depend altogether on the reader's habits of mind. 

Much more suggestive of the younger writer's dependence on 
the older are some of the definite critical dicta expounded in the 
Preface. Philips's veneration for antiquity, at a time when 
"nothing, it seems, relishes so well as what is written in the 
smooth style of our present Language," was not uncommon among 
critics at the Eestoration. The same may be said of his respect 
for modern Italian poetry; of his belief that pastoral poetry 
"treats oft times of higher matters, thought convenient to be 
spoken of rather mysteriously and obscurely then in plain 
tearmes " ; and of the idea that the epic handles " a brief, obscure, 
or remote Tradition, but of some remarkable piece of story, in 
which the Poet hath an ample feild to inlarge by feigning of 
probable circumstances." All such dicta, as well as his handy use 
of metrical terms, Philips, after the manner of Dick Minim, could 
have acquired from the daily talk of London wits as well as from 
his uncle. The same, finally, could be said of the more significant 
declaration that poetry is "a Science certainly of all others the 
most noble and exalted, and not unworthily tearmed Divine, since 
the heighth of Poetical rapture hath ever been accounted little less 
then Divine Inspiration." 

Other opinions, however, advanced in the Preface bear more 
conspicuously the peculiar stamp of Milton's mind. Philips 
favors, though not dogmatically, the revival of the chorus and the 
observance of the unities in modern tragedy. He expresses, too, 
a dislike for rhyme that his age did not share. " If the Style be 
elegant and suitable," he wrote, "the Verse, whatever it is, may 
be better dispenc't with ; and the truth is the use of Measure alone 
without any Rime at all would give far more ample Scope and 
liberty both to Style and fancy than can possibly be observed in 
Rime, as evidently appears from an English Heroic poem which 
came forth not many years ago." This allusion, however, to Para- 


disc Lost may simply indicate that Philips's opinions were derived 
from a reverent reading of his uncle's work rather than from a 
recollection of his spoken words. 

Such a deduction would leave opportunity, in the Preface for the 
inclusion of thoughts distinctly characteristic of the later day. In 
one place, Philips supports an argument with an analogy drawn 
from " history-painting," which the age of Shaf tesbury was greatly 
concerned with, and which Milton, as far as one knows, cared 
nothing for. One suspects, also, that Philips had never heard his 
uncle allude to the "Kustie, obsolete words " of Spenser and his 
" rough-hewn clowterly Verses," or make so much of Shakespeare's 
"unfiled expressions, his rambling and indigested Fancys, the 
laughter of the critical." All this is the current opinion of the 
London coffee-houses, not of the blind scholar's quiet home in 
Artillery Walk. 

The Preface, therefore, in our judgment shows no clear evidence 
of Milton's personal guidance, though it may reveal, here and 
there, the influence on its author of Milton's published works. 
Equally indecisive are the estimates that the compiler gives, in the 
body of his work, of individual writers. Cowley is praised as " the 
most applauded Poet of our nation both of the present and past 
Ages." Spenser's Faery Queene is "for great Invention and 
Poetic heighth judg'd little inferiour, if not equal to the chief of 
the ancient Greeks and Latins or Modern Italians." Edmund 
"Waller, Milton's supposed benefactor, is mentioned for "the 
charming sweetness of his Lyric Odes or amorous Sonnets long 
since wedded to the no less charming Notes of H. Laws, at that 
time the Prince of Musical Composers." The poem by Erycus 
Puteanus that introduces Comus is not mentioned with other of 
his works. Francis Quarles is dismissed as "the darling of our 
Plebeian Judgments." Chaucer is called "the Prince and Cory- 
phoeus, generally so reputed, till this Age, of our English Poets." 
To this item Philips adds that the story of Cambuscan " is said 
to be compleat in Arundel-house Library." William Drummond, 
whose works Philips had edited, wrote, he says, " to my thinking, 
in a style sufficiently smooth and delightful ; and therefore why so 
utterly disregarded, and layd aside at present, I leave to the more 
curious palats in Poetry." William Shakespeare, "the Glory of 
the English Stage," "pleaseth with a certain wild and native 
Elegance; and in all his Writings hath an unvulgar style." Ben- 


jamin Johnson (sic) lacked Shakespeare's genius, but "his own 
proper Industry and Addiction to Books advanct him to this per- 
fection/' Marlowe is termed " a kind of second Shakespeare, not 
only because of his plays, especially Dr. Faustus, but because of 
"his begun po^m of Hero and Leander." Finally, to cite only 
one more of the interesting items from this compilation, certain 
English authoresses, among them Mrs. Behn, are noticed in an 

No reader of Milton can glance over the pages of Theatrum 
Poetarum without having his attention arrested more than once 
by such judgments as these. The words on Shakespeare and Jon- 
son carry their reminders of L' Allegro. No one of the criticisms, 
though, is more in accord with Milton's prejudices than that of 
John Cleveland, whose " Conceits were out of the common road, 
and Wittily far fetch't." Those who for that quality esteem him 
the best of English poets may hold their opinion, Philips half 
cynically remarks, "provided it be made no Article of Faith." 
Apparently, he retained some of his uncle's prejudice against 

Those new-fangled toys, and trimming slight 
Which takes our late fantastics with delight. 

But who can say that Philips's judgment here or elsewhere was 
determined by what Milton had told him? Would Milton, for 
example, have included these women in the Hall of Fame ? Much, 
indeed, in Philips's work belongs, we suspect, exclusively to him 
and his age. Frequently, we admit, Philips shows real taste in his 
judgments, and stands sometimes at variance with the ruling 
fashion of his time. Nevertheless, he should be allowed that much 
originality, and what he says that is sound should be credited to 
him. It may seem, then, that Thomas Warton spoke without 
warrant when he said : " There is good reason to suppose that 
Milton threw many additions and corrections into the Theatrum 


The State University of Iowa. 


The New English Dictionary gives the following derivation for 

This and its accompanying vb. presumably represent L. cant-us 
singing, song, chant (Pr. and NFr. Cant, Fr. Chant), canta-re 
NFr. canter) to sing, chant; but the details of the derivation ami 
development of sense are unknown, ... or the word may have 
been actually made from Lat. or Eomanic in the rogues' jargon of 
the time. The subsequent development assumed in the arrange- 
ment of the verb is quite natural, though not actually established. 
Some have however conjectured that cant is the Irish and Gaelic 
cainnt, . . . ' language/ And as early as 1711 the word was as- 
serted to be derived from the name of Andrew Cant or his son 
Alexander Cant, Presbyterian ministers of the 17th c. This per- 
haps means that the surname of the two Cants was occasionally 
associated derisively with canting. The'arrangment of the sb. here 
is tentative, and founded mainly on that of the vb., which appears 
on the whole earlier. 

Other late dictionaries derive the word from the Latin canta-re, 
and give no heed to the suggestion that the proper name Cant has 
had any influence in the development of the word. 1 In earlier dis- 
cussions of the word's origin any connection with the Presbyterian 
ministers is either denied or else designated as ( whimsical ' or 
( groundless/ 2 The connection made in 1711 between the com- 
mon noun and the name of the two ministers is to be found in the 
Spectator, in a paper written by Steele. 3 The passage reads : 

This Indifferency seems to me to arise from the Endeavour of 
avoiding the imputation of Cant, and the false notion of it. It 
will be proper therefore to trace the Original and Signification of 

1 See the recent editions of Webster's, the Century, and the Standard 

2 See Blaikie's article on Andrew Cant, D. N. B. iii, 898; J. Jamieson's 
Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language, ed. 1779 s. v. cant; 
The Spectator, ed. Morley, p. 218; Farmer and Henry, Slang and its Ana- 
logues, ii, s. v. cant. The earlier lexicographers are content to derive the 
word from canta-re. See the dictionaries of Johnson, of Phillips, and of 
Bailey, among others. 

3 Spectator, no. 147, Saturday, August 18, 1711. 



this Word. Cant is, by some People, derived from one Andrew 
Cant who, they say, was a Presbyterian Minister in some Illiterate 
part of Scotland, who by Exercise and Use had obtained the Fac- 
ulty, alias Gift, of Talking in the Pulpit in such a Dialect, that 
it's said he was understood by none but his own Congregation, 
and not by all of them. Since Mas. Cant's time, it has been under- 
stood in a larger Sense, and signifies all sudden Exclamations, 
Whinings, unusual Tones, and in fine all Praying and Preaching 
like the unlearned of the Presbyterians. 

According to Steele, the primary meaning of Cant was an inten- 
tionally obscure dialect, not understood by all of the minister's 
congregation, indeed. It has not been pointed out, I believe, that 
Steele's view had been anticipated by Thomas Blount, at least as 
early as 1670, when the third edition of Blount's Glossographia 
was published. Blount had written that " Canting, is an affected 
peculiar kinde of speech used by some people, whereby they may 
understand themselves, yet not be understood by others, and is said 
to have taken origin from Mr. Andrew Cant, a noted Presbyterish 
Minister of Scotland, who lived in the last Age, and was well 
gifted herein." 4 

As early as 1661 there had appeared in the two official English 
newspapers, the Kingdomes Intelligencer and Mercurius Publicus, 
and in the Edinburgh reprint of these, 5 a news item which gives 
yet another twist to the word's derivation and meaning. The 
passage reads: 

Mr. Alexander Cant son to Mr. Andrew Cant (who in his dis- 
course, De Excommunicato trucidando, maintain'd that all Ke- 
fusers of the Covenant ought to be excommunicated, and that all 
so excommunicated, might lawfully be kill'd) was lately depos'd 
by the Synod for divers seditious and impudent passages in his 
Sermons at several places, as, at the Pulpit of Banchry: 

If ever the King made a good pudding he would eate the prick 
of it : 

That whoever would own or make use of a Service-Book, King, 
Nobleman, or Minister, the curse of God should be upon him; 

In his Grace after meat, he praid for those Phanatiques, and 

* Glossographia, ed. 1670, p. 101. The first edition was in 1656, but the 
1670 edition is the earliest accessible in this country. 

8 Kingdomes IntelUgencer, no. 9, p. 144; 25 February-4 March, 1661; 
Mercurius Publicus, no. 9, pp. 132-133; Mercurius Publicus, Edinburgh 
reprint, 28 February, 1661. 


Seditious Ministers, (who are now secured) 6 in these words, The 
Lord pitty and deliver the precious Prisoners who are now suffering 
for the Truth, and close up the mouths of the Edomites, who are 
now rejoycing, with several other Articles too long to recite. 

From these two Cants, (Andrew and Alexander) all seditious 
praying and preaching in Scotland is called canting. 

That is to say, within ten years the two Cants had been credited 
with the origin of the word canting in two separate senses, " sedi- 
tious praying and preaching," and a peculiar form of speech under- 
stood by a limited audience. The confusion is cleared up a little 
by an explanation of the established uses of cant before 1660. The 
earliest connection of cant with any form of speech was in regard 
to the curious language used by the rogues and vagabonds. As 
early as 1567 Harmon wrote, in his Caveat for Cursitors," 1 " Here I 
set before the good Header the leud, lousey language of these lew- 
tering Luskes and lasy Lorrels, . . . Whyche language they terme 
Peddelars Frenche, a vnknowen toung onely, but to these bold, 
beastly, bawdy Beggers, and vaine Vacabondes." Harmon glosses 
" to cante " as simply " to speake." 8 In 1586 "William Harrison 
wrote that the vagabonds " haue deuised a language amoung them- 
selues, which they name Canting (but other pedlers French) a 
speach compact thirtie yeares since of English, and a great num- 
ber of od words of their owne deuising, without all order or reason : 
and yet such is it as none but themselues are able to understand. 
The first deuiser thereof was hanged by the necke, a iust reward, 
no doubt, for his deserts, and a common end to all of that pro- 
fession." 9 Dekker referred frequently to the ' canting language ' 
of the rogues, " which none but themselues should vnderstand," 10 
and thought the word " derived from the latine verbe (canto)." 11 
Clearly one does not need to seek further for the source of Blount's 

8 These were the " Fifth Monarchy " men. 

* See the reprint by Viles and OFurnivall, Early English Text Society, 
Extra series 9, p. 82. 

* Loc. oit., p. 84. 

Quoted in E. E. T. S. Extra Series, no. 9, p. xii. 

10 The Bel-man of London, 1608; Lanthorne and Candle-light, or, the 
Bell-mans second Nights-walke, 1609; English Villanies seven sever all 
Times prest to Death by the Printers, 1638. See The Non-dramatic Works 
of Dekker, ed. Grosart, 1885, iii, 84, 193-4. 

11 Non-dramatic Works, iii, 194. 


and Steele's notion that our ' Presbyterish ministers ' spoke in a 
language intelligible to only a few. 

So far as their idea is concerned, it seems obvious enough that, 
instead of the two Cants having had any influence on the meaning 
of cant, the word, in a perfectly established sense, was applied to 
their unintelligible manner of preaching. We have still, however, 
to account for the news item, and for the additional meaning of 
insincere and hypocritical speech, which was first applied to cant 
in the middle of the seventeenth century. 

The item in question appeared while both the Cants were alive, 
and, as we shall see presently, well known. The two official news- 
papers in London, although issued on different days of the week, 
generally contained identically the same material, and the Edin- 
burgh edition of Mercurius Publicus was merely a reprint of the 
London edition. Hence there is nothing remarkable in the appear- 
ance of the same article in three separate newsbooks in the same 
week. One point needs emphasis ; the newsbooks were under some- 
what rigid governmental control, and naturally expressed the 
proper political and religious opinions. 

It is almost certain that the item was written somewhere in Scot- 
land by an established correspondent of the official newspapers. 
Presumably the correspondent was reporting a local opinion, when 
he wrote that " From these two Cants all seditious praying and 
preaching in Scotland is called canting." To the loyal corres- 
pondent, " seditious praying and preaching " would, of course, be a 
more deadly sin that a hypocritical voice or expression, and the 
ideas attributed to the Cants were certainly seditious in 1661. It 
is by no means unusual, however, among simple-minded folk, to 
characterize any difference of opinion as necessarily insincere, so 
that the word seditious might in fact include a connotation of 
hypocrisy. At any rate, it is clear that popular etymology con- 
nected the names of the two ministers with some objectionable 
fashion of preaching. 

Furthermore, this connection was given public utterance very 
shortly after the earliest recorded use of cant in respect to reli- 
gious matters. In 1659, the Presbyterians, it was said, made " an 
insipid, tedious, and unmethodical prayer, in phrases and a tone so 
affected and mysterious that they give it the name of canting: a 
term by which they usually express the gibberish of beggars and 


vagabonds." 12 Here is, of course, a mingling of the ideas of 
obscurity and affectation. The following passage from a newsbook 
of 1661 seems to have escaped attention, and is certainly of some 
bearing. The journalist wrote of the "bloody Phanaticks who, 
in their hypocriticall canting Sermons and Declarations speak 
much of Mercy and tender bowels, at that very time when they 
were harnessing themselves to murther us in our Beds." 13 In 
this same paper there appeared six weeks later the article already 
quoted, equating " seditious praying and preaching," and " cant- 
ing." It is possible that the same correspondent wrote both ac- 
counts. Additional evidence that the application of canting to 
the speech of the clergy came after 1650 is found in another news- 
book, this time a Royalist one, the Mercurius Rusticus, which ap- 
peared first in 1643, and was reprinted as a volume in 1647 and 
again in 1685. A quotation from one of Dr. Featly's sermons was 
printed in the 1685 edition as follows : " Thou givest thy mouth 
to lying, and thy Tongue f rameth deceit. Thou sittest and speak- 
est against thy Brother, and slanderest thine own Mothers son. 
For is not this their canting language? The Prelates of England 
are all Antichristian ; The Ministers Baals Priests." " In the 
1647 edition the line reads, " For is not this their chanting Lan- 
guage." 15 Unless this be regarded as a printer's error, and there- 
fore fortuitous, it would seem to indicate that by 1685 canting was 
a well recognized term to apply to preachers whose utterances were 
hypocritical, extravagant, or seditious. 

The question now arises, did the extension of meaning of the 
word cant from a secret language (Peddlars' French) to seditious, 
insincere, and hypocritical speech, owe anything to the Scotch 
clergymen whose names were curiously connected with it by popu- 
lar repute? It must* be reiterated that this connection was actu- 
ally made in print in 1661, within two years of the earliest recorded 
use of cant in the sense of religious hypocrisy, but at a time when 
such use was apparently fast coming in. Now the two Cants, and 
especially the elder, were famous men in their day, were both min- 

a N. E. D. s. v. canting. Quoted from o Character of England, in Harl. 
Misc. x, 191. 

13 Mercurius Purlieus, no. 2, p. 17; 10-17 January 1661. 
11 Mercurius Rusticus, no. xviii, p. 195, ed. 1685. 
15 Mercurius Rusticus, no. xviii, p. 168, ed. 1647. 


isters, and gave utterance to certain ideas in terms which today 
would be best described as cant of the most rabid variety. These 
factors are all pertinent. Had they been obscure men, it is un- 
likely that any such connection would ever have been made. The 
fact that they were ministers would make such an extension of 
meaning the more likely, since religious hypocrisy is probably of 
wider occurrence than any other variety. Since some of their 
ideas were irrationally narrow and extreme, it is not difficult to 
find a logical connection between the men themselves and the 
generally accepted notion conveyed by the word canting. 

Andrew Cant's career has been fairly well given elsewhere, 16 
and only the essentials are required here. He was born in 1584, 
was educated at Aberdeen, and for a time taught Latin. In 1614 
he was promoted to a benefice. In 1621 he received the popular 
vote for Minister of Edinburgh, but it was reported, " as from the 
Bishop, that the King would not be content ; because he had heard 
of his seditious Sermons." 17 In 1623 another movement to put 
Cant into the Edinburgh pulpit failed, again on account of press- 
ure from the higher authorities, in spite of the protests of the 
people. A year later the King requested the Bishop of St. An- 
drews " to take order with three Ministers that were most earnest 
against" certain excommunicants, and Andrew Cant was one of 
the three. 

He was inducted minister of Aberdeen in 1641, where he 
promptly began, a crusade against the vices of his people, denounc- 
ing private baptism, tolling the bell at funerals, eating beef at 
Easter, and especially making merry at Christmas. He instituted 
lectures on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, from 
which "no honest person durst be absent but were rebuked and 
cried out against." On the frequent fast-days from eight to twelve 
hours were occupied in public worship, and to enforce the abstin- 
ence of his parishioners, he appointed certain pious members to 
search all kitchens. Some of his flock murmured, saying that 
because " Mr. Andrew spake against Yule, he spake like an old 

He achieved prominence among the Puritans in Charles the 

19 See the article in D. N. B., and that by Joseph Robertson, in Deliciae 
Literariae, pp. 17-27. (London, 1840.) 

" David Calderwood, The True History of the Church of Scotland, p. 788. 


First's time, and seems to have been the most active partizan of 
the Covenant in the North of Scotland. 

From Dickson, Henderson, and Cant, 
Apostles of the Covenant, 
Almighty God deliver us. 18 

reads a burlesque litany of those times. He was also the hero of a 
curious song, " The Guise of Tyrie," 19 in which he figured as 
" bobbing Andrew/' There is a legend that Cant, always severely 
opposed to anything that smacked of Popery, once requested his 
landlord to remove from his room pictures of some Catholic Saints. 
" St. Peter was removed, and Cant's picture put in its place, with 
the following lines : 

Come down, St. Peter, 
Ye superstitious saint, 
And let up your better 
Mr. Andrew Cant. 80 

He preached frequently before the Scottish Parliament; for exam- 
ple, six times between the 7th of December, 1645, and the following 
February. 21 In 1648 a pamphlet attributed to him was published, 
in which it was argued that those who failed to subscribe to the 
Covenant were excommunicated, and might lawfully be killed. He 
was one of the five leaders of the General Assembly in 1649, and 
in the next year was Moderator of that body. That his influence 
was a powerful one cannot be doubted, since both English and 
Scottish authorities went out of their way to placate him. 22 He 
died in 1663, in his seventy-ninth year, having given up his church 
a year or so earlier on account of charges of seditious speech, " and 
for denouncing anathemas and imprecations against many of his 
congregation, in the course of performing his religious duties." 23 
His highly eulogistic epitaph should not be taken as entirely repre- 

18 Third Book of Scottish Pasquils, Edinburgh, 1828, p. 47. 
"Buchan inserted this in his Ancient Ballads and Songs of the North 
of Scotland, i, 226. 
20 Buchan, i, 318. 

11 Sir James Balfour, The Annals of Scotland, iii, 326 and passim. 

12 See Bulstrode Whitelock's Memorials, p. 493 (London, 1682), and 
Balfour's Annales, iv, 161. 

33 Chambers' Biographical Dictionary, i, 495, (ed. 1840) and F. W. 
Scott, Fasti Ecclesiae Scoticanae, part vi, p. 463. 


sentative of public opinion, since he was called a " most fiery and 
intolerant bigot." 24 

It is interesting, too, to note that no other Scotch clergyman of 
the Civil War period was so well advertised in the English news- 
papers. In 1646 the Perfect Diurnall reported that His Majesty, 
then at Newcastle, had been visited by three Scotch ministers, 
come " to satisfie his scruple of conscience about taking the Cove- 
nant." Cant's name was the first of the three. 25 The same news- 
paper a year later gave an account of a duel caused by " a passage 
in Mr. Andrew Cants Sermon." 26 In 1652 Cant's " buttoned 
Cassock and Buckie Kuff " caused him to be attacked in the English 
newspapers for secretly leaning toward the Church of Home. 27 
The Scotch correspondent a little later complained of the " unlim- 
ited power of Cardinall Cant; who though he hath left off the 
wearing of his button'd Coat (consisting of 36 Dozen) wherein he 
thought to have Crowned the King, as his predecessors the priests 
did, yet he wears his Buff still, looking in it (in a Pulpit) as Puss 
in Majesty." 28 Ambition and pride, thought the journalist, were 
Cant's "two inherent sins." In 1662 Alexander Cant was men- 
tioned as " son to the notorious Mr. Andrew Cant." 29 These refer- 
ences are enough to show in what fashion Cant's name came before 
the English people, but they are by no means exhaustive, as a very 
superficial search of some of the Civil War newsbooks revealed a 
dozen more. 30 While the younger Cant received nothing like the 
publicity given to his father, yet he too was notorious in 1661 and 
1662 on account of his failing to take the Oath of Allegiance. 31 
Certainly in 'both character and reputation the two Cants could 

"Notes and Queries, 4th Series, v, 337-8, 16 April, 1870. 

25 A Perfect Diurnall, no. 164, p. 1317; 14-21 Sept. 1646. 

A Perfect Diurnall, no. 243, p. 1955; 20-27 March, 1648. 

27 Perfect Diurnall, no. Ill, p. 1613-14, 19-26 Jan. 1651/2. 

* Perfect Diurnall, no. 118, p. 1731, 8-15 March 1651/2. 

"Kingdomes Intelligencer, no. 51, p. 882; 15-22 Dec. 1662. 

30 See The Perfect Diurnall, no. 174, p. 2619, 28 Mch.-4 April 1652; 
no. 140, p. 2080, 9-16 Aug. 1652; no. 118, p. 1732, 8-15 Mch. 1651/2; 
no. 130, p. 1922, 31 May-7 June 1652; no. 138, p. 2049-59, 26 July-2 Aug. 
1652; no. 69, p. 933, 31 Mch.-7 Apr. 1651. Kingdomes Intelligencer, no. 
22, p. 366, 2-9 June, 1662; no. 10, p. 156, 4-11 Mch. 1660; no. 35, p. 552, 
26 Aug.-2 Sept. 1661. 

B-Eingdomes Intelligencer, no. 35, p. 552, 26 Aug.-2 Sept. 1661; no. 51, 
p. 882, 15-22 Dec. 1662; no. 9, p. 144, 25 Feb.-4 Mch. 1661. 


scarcely be better fitted to influence in some degree the extension of 
the word canting. 

It is instructive to note in what variations the newspaper item 
turned up in the course of years. " From these two Cants (Andrew 
and Alexander}'' read the original notice, "all seditious praying 
and preaching in Scotland is called Canting." The shift made by 
Blount, and later by Steele, has already been noted. Pennant, writ- 
ing in 1775, thought that " Andrew canted no more than the rest 
of his brethren, for he lived in a whining age." 32 In 1859 the two 
Cants were referred to as " Oliver and Ezekiel." 33 The news item 
of 1661 was reprinted verbatim in 1854, but since the last sentence, 
" From these two Cants," &c., somehow escaped inclusion in the 
quotation, and appeared simply as an observation of the nineteenth 
century contributor instead of the seventeenth century reporter, it 
received no attention. 34 Twice in the eighteenth century the quota- 
tion was correctly given, both times by Zachary Gray, 35 but in 
obscure footnotes, so that it is not surprising to find stated in the 
New English Dictionary that "as early as 1711 the word was 
asserted to be derived from the name of Andrew Cant." 

From this investigation the following facts emerge. First, a 
word cant, of uncertain origin, was applied to the secret language 
of the vagabonds in the middle of the sixteenth century. Secondly, 
about a hundred years later, cant was used in reference to some 
objectionable forms of praying or preaching. In the third place, 
in 1661 there found its way into print a popular belief that the 
two Scotch ministers named Cant were in some fashion the cause 
of this new word or meaning. Fourthly, these two men possessed 
qualities which were at all events eminently suited to influence the 
meaning of a word already known. These are all demonstrable 
facts, from which one is tempted to infer that the Scotch divines 
actually did influence the meaning of the word. But I shall con- 
tent myself with a suggestion from William Bates, who wrote in 
1870, with something less than the customary caution of philolo- 

31 Tour in Scotland, i, 122. 

33 Notes and Queries, 2nd Series, vii, 157-8, 19 Feb. 1859. 

M Notes and Queries, 1st Series, ix, p. 103 (1854). 

35 See Gray's edition of Hudibras, ii, 289 (London, 1764); and his Im- 
partial Examination of the fourth Volume of Mr. Daniel Neal's History of 
the Puritans, p. 126 (London, 1739). 


gians, " I think it not improbable that the word is derivable from 
two distinct sources, and that in its earlier meaning it has been 
supplanted by the one derived from the name of the Scottish Pres- 
byterian." 56 


Denison University. 


In Mod. Lang. Notes for April, 1920, Mr. Lucius W. Elder has 
published a contribution to a type of study which one could wish 
to see more pursued among us a study which takes as the ultimate 
units to which its analysis is to be applied neither individual 
authors or schools nor literary genres, but individual ideas, and 
endeavors to clarify the meaning of each of the fashionable or 
ruling conceptions, categories, presuppositions, or logical motifs of 
a period, to discover the reasons for its vogue, to exhibit its inter- 
weaving and interaction with other ideas, and to trace its historic 
workings, not only in the reflection but also in the taste, the prac- 
tice, and the social movements of the age in which it flourished. 
Mr. Elder notes that satirists and moralizing writers in the late 
seventeenth and the eighteenth centuries were a good deal pre- 
occupied with a vice which they called " pride," and were given 
to denouncing this with peculiar vehemence. He therefore inquires 
into the meaning of this notion, and " its basis and analogue in the 
speculative theory of the Enlightenment." Mr. Elder has inter- 
estingly brought together from a number of eighteenth-century 
writers material bearing upon this question, and his study will be 
of use to students of the thought of that period. He has, however, 
as it seems to me, omitted certain of the most important aspects 
of the subject; and there is room for dissent from his general 

Mr. Elder, I think, hardly sufficiently remarks that the pride to 
which such a typical writer as Pope most frequently refers, in 
the Essay on Man, is not primarily the pride of the individual 
human creature comparing himself with others of his species, but 
the generic pride of man as such. The featherless biped, it was 
observed, has a strange tendency to put himself in the centre of 

* Notes and Queries, 4th Series, v, 472, 14 May 1870. 


creation, to suppose himself separated by a vast gap from all other 
and ' irrational' creatures, to credit himself with the possession 
of virtues of which he is inherently incapable, and to attempt tasks, 
especially intellectual tasks, which he has in reality no power to 
accomplish. A sense of the dignity and importance of the genus 
homo had been fostered by the medieval Christian view of man's 
place in the universe. Though the Church had bidden the indi- 
vidual man walk humbly with his God, and had dwelt upon the 
inner corruption of unregenerate human nature, it had neverthe- 
less put before mankind a picture of both the physical and the 
moral order profoundly nattering to men's racial self-esteem. 
Around man's planet all the unpeopled spheres revolved; upon 
that planet he reigned supreme over the brute creation, infinitely 
removed in dignity from even the highest animals by his sole 
participation in the intellectual light of the Divine Eeason; upon 
the acts of will of individual men inexpressibly momentous issues 
depended; and the good which man was capable of attaining 
immeasurably transcended all that could be experienced in this 
sublunary world of matter and sense. The first blow to this natter- 
ing view was, of course, the overthrow of the geocentric astronomy. 
But there were certain ideas especially current in (though not 
original with) the eighteenth century which had a similar ten- 

1. The first of these was among the most characteristic and 
influential of all eighteenth-century ideas though you may read 
many books on the philosophy and literature of that period without 
ever guessing the fact. I refer to the so-called 'principle of con- 
tinuity' 1 (lex continui}, the conception of the "Great Chain of 
Being." According to this principle, the world is necessarily a 
plenum formarum, a system 

Where all must full or not coherent be, 
And all that rises, rise in due degree; 

in other words, every logically possible kind of being, through all 
the infinite graded scale of conceivable 'natures' between Deity 
and nonentity, must actually exist; and between any two adjacent 
' links ' in the chain there can be only infinitesimal differences. 

1 The writer has in preparation a study of the place and manifold rami- 
fications of this conception in eighteenth-century literature, science and 


One of the principal events in European thought in the eighteenth 
century was the rapid growth of a tendency towards a deliquescence 
of all sharp distinctions, resulting from the introduction of this 
assumption that all things must be regarded as parts of a quali- 
tative continuum the assumption embodied in the maxim Natura 
non facit saltus. Since all gaps thus disappeared from nature, 
there could be none between man and the other animals. He could 
differ from them only in degree, and from the higher animals in 
an almost insensible degree, and only with respect to certain 
attributes. 2 No link in the Chain of Being, moreover, is more essen- 
tial than another, or exists merely for the sake of another. The lower 
creatures are no more means to the convenience of man than he is 
a means to their convenience. 3 Thus, so long as man remained 
normal, i. e., in the State of Nature, he assumed no grand airs of 
superiority to the creatures of the field and wood : 

Pride then was not ; nor arts that pride to aid ; 
Man walked with beast joint-tenant of the shade. 4 

In its most significant aspect, then, 'pride' gets its meaning 
for eighteenth-century thought from this group of conceptions. 
It is, in Pope's words, the " sin against the laws of order," i. e., 
of gradation; it is the vice which causes man to set up pretensions 
to a place higher in the Scale of Being than belongs to him. 

Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes, 
Men would be angels, angels would be gods. 

The virtue which is its opposite lies in a contented recognition of 
the limitations of the human lot and the littleness of man's powers ; 

The bliss of man (could pride that blessing find) 
Is not to act or think beyond mankind.* 

J Essay on Man, I, 173 ff. 

"Id., in, 22-70, i, 53-68; cf. Voltaire, Discours sur I'homme, VI. 

4 Essay on Man, in, 151-2. Pope's lines are the probable source of 
Rousseau's remark, in his second Discours, that man's emergence from the 
pure state of nature began with his invention of certain practical arts, 
which was followed by " le premier mouvement d'orgueil," in the form of a 
feeling of superiority to the other animals: "C'est ainsi que sachant 
encore a peine distinguer les rangs, et se contemplant au premier par son 
espece, il se pr6paroit de loin ft y prtendre par son individu." 

"Essay on Man,-l, 189-190. 


Thus the eighteenth-century denunciations of e pride ' are often, 
at bottom, expressions of a certain disillusionment of man about 
himself a phase of that long and deepening disillusionment which 
is the tragedy of a great part of modern thought. True, the con- 
ception of the Chain of Being owed its vogue largely to its use in 
the argument for (so-called) optimism; and it had its cheerful 
aspects. But it clearly implied the dethronement of man from his 
former exalted position. In the bitter spirit of Swift this dis- 
illusionment, tho for other reasons, already touched its extreme; 
the Yahoo is not merely brought nearer to the other animals, he 
is placed below them. The most detestable and irrational of beings, 
he crowns his fatuity by imagining himself the aim and climax of 
the whole creation. Yet Swift had been anticipated in his opinion 
of the Yahoo by Kobert Gould : 

What beast beside can we so slavish call 
As Man? Who yet pretends he's Lord of all. 
Whoever saw (and all their classes cull) 
A dog so snarlish, or a swine so full, 
A wolf so rav'nous, or an ass so dull? 
Slave to his passions, ev'ry several lust 
Whisks him about, as whirlwinds do the dust; 
And dust he is, indeed, a senseless clod 
That swells, and yet would be believ'd a God.' 

Two further aspects of the eighteenth-century notion of ' pride ' 
are in part special applications of the principle of continuity, in 
part consequences of the vogue of certain other conceptions. 

2. It was upon his rational faculty and his intellectual achieve- 
ments that modern man had been wont most to plume himself. 
But the conception of the graded scale of being tended to fix atten- 
tion especially upon the limitations of man's mental powers. More- 
over, the ' primitivism ' which had long been associated with the 
cult of the sacred word ' Nature ' had expressed itself, among other 
ways, in the disparagement of intellectual pursuits and the depre- 
ciation of man's intellectual capacity. In the sixteenth century 
both Erasmus and Montaigne had dilated upon the vanity of 
speculation and the corrupting influence of science. 

Gould's "Satire against Man" (ca. 1708), Works, n, 149 f. Gould is 
an unduly neglected figure in the history of English satire. It should be 
added that, as an orthodox churchman, he elsewhere, not too consistently, 
insists upon man's superiority, as evidenced by his possession of a con- 
science and an immortal soul. 


" In the first golden age of the world," wrote Erasmus, " there 
was no sort of learning but what was naturally collected from every 
man's common sense improved by an easy experience. They were 
not so presumptuous as to dive into the depths of Nature, to labor 
for the solving all phenomena in astronomy, or to wreak their 
brains in the splitting of entities and unfolding the nicest specu- 
lations, judging it to be a crime for any man to aim at what is 
put beyond the reach of his shallow comprehension." 7 

This strain, less in evidence in the seventeenth century, the age 
of great ' systems ' in philosophy and science, became in the eigh- 
teenth one of the most popular of commonplaces. Finally, the 
reigning philosophy of the period, in England and France, that of 
Locke, had as its characteristic aim to fix the boundaries of 
human knowledge; and it ostensibly found those boundaries to be 
very narrow. 8 In consequence, chiefly, of the convergence of these- 
three lines of influence, it became customary to berate and satirize 
all forms of intellectual ambition, and to ascribe to it a great part 
in the corruption of the natural innocence of mankind. So Pope 
exhorts : 

Trace science, then, with modesty they guide, 
First strip off all her equipage of pride, etc.* 

The condemnation of ' pride/ then, is frequently, in the eigh- 
teenth century, one of the ways of expressing a primitivistic anti- 
intellectualism. Eousseau was but repeating a current common- 
place when he wrote in the Premier Discours that "toutes les 
sciences, et la morale meme, sont nees de 1'orgueil humain," and 

7 M oriae Encomium. For the equation of ' pride ' with the spirit of 
science in Montaigne, cf. the following: " Le soing de s'augmenter en 
sagesse et en science, ce feut la premiere ruyne du genre humain; . . . 
1'orgueil est sa perte et sa corruption" (Apologie de Raimond Sebond). 
Note also how closely much of Swift's contrast of the Yahoos and the 
Houyhnhnms follows Montaigne's comparison of man with the other ani- 
mals, in the same essay. 

8 Essay Concerning Human Understanding, I, chap. I, 5-7. 

9 Essay on Nan, n, 43 ff. ; cf. Robert Gould's satirical picture of the 
scholar's life ("Satire against Man," 167-9) and his praise of the ignor- 
ance of the state of nature (170ff.). In the mid-eighteenth century it is, 
of course, true that this sort of anti-intellectualism co-existed sometimes 
even in the same minds with that enthusiasm for the " study of nature," 
i. e., of empirical physical science, of which M. Mornet 'has admirably 
written the history in his Les sciences de la nature en France au 18 


that " le luxe, la dissolution et 1'esclavage ont ete de tout temps le 
chatiment des efforts orgueilleux que nous avons faits pour sortir 
de 1'heureuse ignorance ou la sagesse eternelle nous avait places/' 

3. In ethical as in intellectual endeavor, typical moralists of 
the early eighteenth century helieved in a program of limited 
objectives. Here, again, the tradition of ethical naturalism which 
had been handed down especially through Erasmus and Montaigne 
readily combined with the idea of the graded scale of being. Man 
must not attempt to transcend the limitations of his ' nature ' ; 
and his nature, though not the same as that of the animals below 
him in the scale, is close akin to it. ' Reason } has a part in the 
conduct of human life; but it is an ancillary part. Pope devotes 
many lines of versified argumentation to showing that the motive- 
power and the principal directive force in man's life is and should 
be not reason, but the complex of instincts and passions which 
make up our ' natural ' constitution. 10 ' Pride/ then, in an espe- 
cially important sense, meant a sort of ' moral overstrain/ the 
attempt to be unnaturally good and immoderately virtuous, to live 
by reason alone. Erasmus and Montaigne had come to have an 
antipathy to this lofty and strenuous moral temper thru a direct 
revulsion against the revived Stoicism in fashion in the late 
Renaissance; and the Stoics passed in the eighteenth century for 
the proverbial embodiments of ' pride ' in this sense. Thus Pope 
describes man as a being " with too much weakness for the Stoic 
pride"; and Wieland in his Theages (1760) remarks that the Stoic 
pride and self-sufficiency " departs very widely from nature " and 
" can be possible only in God." " Eben so wenig," he adds, 
" konnte ich die Unterdriickung des sinnlichen Teils unsers "Wesens 
mit der Natur reimen." 

I have dwelt upon this and the preceding aspect of the concep- 
tion of pride especially because Mr. Elder like many others before 
him seems to me seriously to exaggerate the rationalism of the 
period, its " extravagant claims to reason/' its confidence in " the 
dry light of reason." Unless " reason " is carefully and somewhat 
peculiarly defined, such expressions are misleading. The authors 
who were perhaps the most influential and the most representative 
in the early and mid-eighteenth century made a great point of 
reducing man's claims to ' reason ' to a minimum, and to belittling 

M Essay on Man, n, 59-202. 


the importance of that faculty in human existence; and the vice 
of ' pride ' which they so delighted to castigate was exemplified 
for them in any high estimate of the capacity of the human species 
for intellectual achievement, or in any of the more ambitious enter- 
prises of science and philosophy, or in any moral ideal which would 
make pure ' reason' (as distinguished from natural ( passions') 
the supreme power in human life. ' Pride ' was, indeed, exempli- 
fied, for some such writers, in everything ' artificial ' ; and in the 
homilies against it the whole gospel of the Eeturn to Nature was 
often implicit. 11 


Johns Hopkins University. 


Etude sur Pathelin, par EICHARD T. HOLBROOK. [Elliott Mono- 
graphs] Baltimore, The Johns Hopkins Press, et Paris, E. 
Champion, 1917. 123 pp. et 23 illustrations. 

Emile Picot exprimait en 1904 le VO3U qu'une Edition critique 
de la Farce de Pathelin fut en'fin donnee aux amateurs de 1'an- 
cienne litterature franchise. Or des 1905 un American! repondait a 
cet appel en publiant les premiers travaux d'approche vers une edi- 
tion definitive. J'ai nomine" Eichard Thayer Holbrook. 

I. L' Etude sur Pathelin qu'il vient de nous donner est faite 
suivant la methode qui marquait d'une empreinte personnelle ses 
articles de Modern Philology de 1905 et dee Modern Language 

? l l have not attempted in this brief note to touch upon another move- 
ment of ideas in the eighteenth century concerning ' pride ' the doctrine 
that pride, in the sense of the craving for that which will feed the indi- 
vidual's feeling of distinction and superiority, is, on the whole, though an 
irrational, a socially 'beneficent, passion of the human animal. This ap- 
pears in its most extreme form in Mandeville, who makes 'pride' the 
basis of all social order; but Hume goes farther towards this conclusion 
than Mr. Elder quite indicates, and a kindred conception plays a large 
part in Adam Smith's profound and subtle analysis of the 'moral senti- 
ments.' Mandeville was one of those who helped to give currency to the 
premise accepted by the primitivists : science, industry, the arts, luxury 
and trade are all born of pride. But from this premise he drew the oppo- 
site inference ; since civilization, if not a good, is at least a necessary evil, 
' pride,' which is its moving force, is a kind of useful folly. 


Notes de 1906. Dans la premiere partie, intitulee Bibliographic 
raisonnee, il prend comme idee directrice la question suivante: 
" Quelle forme de Pathelin doit primer toutes les autres et par 
consequent servir de base a une edition critique?" Son enquete 
porte sur 16 imprimes et 4 manuscrits couvrant la periode de 1486 
a 1550 environ. Parmi ces textes, les seuls qui appartiennent 
f ranchement au XVe Siecle sont : 1. Maistre Pierre Pathelin, sans 
lieu ni date, mais identifie comme imprime a Lyon en 1485 ou 
1486 par Guillaume Le Eoy. 2. Maistre Pierre Pathelin imprime 
par Pierre Levet, non date mais que H. par comparaison entre les 
differents etats des marques d'impression de Levet est parvenu a 
situer entre Novembre 1489 et Decembre 1490. 3. Pathelin le 
Grant et le Petit, imprime par Guillaume Beneaut, a Paris, en 

Ainsi 1'anteriorite du Pathelin de Le Roy etant hors de doute, il 
reste la question des rapports de Levet avec Beneaut. Holbrook, 
grace a une demonstration d'une surete et d'une elegance ration- 
nelle extreme, nous avait deja prepares a situer la date du Pathelin 
de Levet avant celle du Pathelin de Beneaut. II acheve par 1'ex- 
pertise analytique du texte de renverser decisivement les conclu- 
sions de Picot et de Claudin, et de prouver que Levet a etc non 
seulement le predecesseur mais le guide de Beneaut. (Of. son exa- 
men des vers 273, 323, 1031, 1425). x 

Beneaut s'etant inspire de Levet, de qui Levet s'inspire-t-il ? 
" De Le Roy," repond H. Nous voici ramenes a ce texte capital du 
vieil imprimeur lyonnais, texte dont il ne subsiste plus qu'un seul 
exemplaire inutile. ... Le plus ancien qui nous soit parvenu, 
cet imprime est-il Foriginal? H. semble incliner a le croire, mais 
est trop prudent pour se prononcer. II prouve en tout cas que Le 
Roy a ete sous les yeux de Levet comme son guide. La f agon dont 
il etablit ce point n'est pas 1'application la moins remarquable de 
sa methode ingenieuse et robuste : Je renvoie entre autres le lecteur 
aux pages 3 a 6 de son Etude, ou, s'appuyant sur deux coquilles 
de Levet, il montre qu'elles sont dues a une confusion de pages et 
que cette confusion portait necessairement sur un modele pagine 
comme le texte de Le Roy. D'autre part il etablit que les diver- 

1 Je signalerai que les conclusions de H. ont et6 reprises dans les Studien 
ftwr Farce Pathelin de J. Schumacher, Berlin, 1911, qui ajoute un certain 
nombre d'arguments a ceux de son devancier am6ricain. 


gences du texte de Levet par rapport a Le Roy sont rares et insi- 
gnifiantes et que c'est tou jours chez Le Roy que Ton trouve la 
" lectio difficilior." La demonstration est decisive pour tous ceux 
" qui savent distinguer uiie impression d'avec une preuve." 

Quant aux autres editions on peut schematiser ainsi les conclu- 
sions de H. : Levet (nous venons de voir qu'il suit Le Roy) a ete 
suivi par presque tous les imprimeurs subsequents jusqu'a Galiot 
du Pre en 1532. Ce dernier, imprimeur d'esprit critique et cul- 
tive, tres estime de Marot, continue la tradition Levet mais en 
editeur intelligent. Galiot du Pre est lui-meme le guide de tous 
les imprimeurs ulterieurs. 2 II reste done acquis en derniere ana- 
lyse que Le Roy est, du moins relativement aux textes qui ont 
survecu, 1' Archetype. Mais, comme H. le fait valoir avec raison, 
il y a d'interessantes variantes a prendre dans les autres editions 
memes les plus eloignees du point de depart. 

Les quatre manuscrits vus par H. remontent tous a des im- 
primes. (Le ms. de Harvard a sa source dans une des editions qui 
remontent a celle de Galiot du Pre.) 

II. Commentaire sur quelques passages du texte de Pathelin. 
La Farce de Pathelin souleve des problemes qui touchent a 1'his- 
toire de la langue, de la litterature et des moeurs du XVe siecle. 
Mais, parmi tous ces points d'interrogation, il en est qui me sem- 
blent specifiques a Pathelin : la richesse de la rime et la science de 
la versification qui distinguent cette farce de toutes les autres, et 
qui marquent 1'auteur comme ayant du etre un des premiers tech- 
niciens du vers de son temps. (C'est la un element dont j'espere 
demontrer rincommensurable valeur pour la solution du pro- 
bleme de la paternite du Pathelin.) II y aurait encore a etudier 
les rapports du theme avec les " Repues franches " post-villonesques 
et les jeux de Mergers, ce dernier motif comique si etroitement lie 
avec la litterature dramatique religieuse et specialement les " Na- 
tivites " ; enfin il f audrait regarder de pres 1'actualite satirique et 
historique de ce chef-d'oeuvre qui, apres tout, est une exquise 
pochade comique en marge du regne de Louis XI. 8 

"C'est Galiot du Pr qui commence ft imprimer ensemble la Farce de 
Pathelin et le Blason de fauloes amours de Guillaume Al6cis ce en quoi 
tous les imprimeurs du XVIe s., ft partir de 1532, 1'ont suivi. J'espfire 
pouvoir prochainement demontrer que Galiot du Pre" avait eu pour faire 
ainsi une bonne et valable raison. 

*Cf. le travail de S. B. Hemmingway "English Nativity Plays." (Yale 


De tons ces problemes celui de la langue est le seul que H. ait 
voulu aborder dans le present travail, mais il est le prolegomene 
essentiel de tous les autoes. Des les premiers vers que prononce 
Pathelin nous sommes arretes par le mot cabasser. 

Pour quelque paine que je mette 

A cabasser na ramasser 

Nous ne pouons rien amasser (2-4). 

H. degage, a 1'aide d'autres exemples, que la signification de ca- 
basser est un adoucissement argotique de voler ou gaspiller et c'est 
bien la en effet ce qui semble ressortir d'un autre passage curieuse- 
ment anlogue de Guillaume Alecis dans le Debat de I'Omme et de 
la Femme. 

L'une cabasse, 1'autre amasse, 

L'autre quelque trahison brasse (73-74). 

Le mot se retrouve egalement dans le vers 1140 de la Farce, 

L'aignelet maint aigneau de let 
luy as cabasse a ton maistre, 

et dans ces vers de Guillaume Alecis (encore!), 

Tel se confie en son berger 
Qui lui cabasse ses moutons 

(Faintes du Monde, 317-318) ? 

Je crois que dans les deux premiers exemples la signification de 
cabasser est un peu plus euphemique que ne le dit H. et qu'il faut 
comprendre " se creuser ou se casser la tete," " tirer des plans sur 
la comete," comme dit si joliment le populaire de chez nous. J'ai 
entendu cabasser pour la premiere et seule fois de ma vie, dans la 
bouche d'un poilu, ex-ouvrier amibulant qui 1'avait ramasse Dieu 
sait ou ! C'etait pendant une partie de cartes ou il avait dans son 
jeu un as rebelle a toutes les combinaisons. " J'ai beau cabasser, 
s'ecria-t-il, il n'y a rien a faire." Ici le sens etait probablement 
" se creuser " ou " se casser la tete." Mais il serait hasarde d'at- 
tacher aucune importance a un rapprochement de ce genre. 

Le terme advooat dessoubz I'orme que Guillemette applique quel- 
ques vers plus bas a son mari fait chez H. Fob jet d'un commentaire 

Studies, 1909) ou 1'on verra 1'extraordinaire d6veloppement dans le sens 
rgaliste et comique des " jeux des bergers " au XVe siecle. Je me pro- 
pose de revenir sur ce point en temps et lieu. 


historique tres precis. II y montre une allusion a un usage me- 
dieval qui a survecu jusqu'au XVIIIe siecle et suivant lequel les 
habitants d'un village ou les vassaux d'un meme seigneur se don- 
naient rendez-vous sous 1'orme pour regler leurs differends. Quant 
au sens specifique dans la Farce, H. le considere comme repondant 
a la traduction de Cotgrave, "An obscure lawyer, a pratling or 
pidling Pettifogger/' sans que cela veuille dire que Pathelin soit 
un avocat de village. 

Une autre expression obscure est celle de chaudes testes dans le 
passage suivant: 

vous estes 

tenu lune des chaudes testes 

qui soit en toute la parroisse (51-53). 

C'est bien la la "lectio difficilior." Elle ne semble pas avoir etc 
comprise de Levet lui-meme, qui a saiges testes. H. etablit claire- 
ment que chaudes testes est selon toute probabilities la lecon au- 
thentique. Mais que signine-t-elle ? II me semble qu'on peut 
penser a 1'inmge "cuit," "roti" au feu de I'experience, comme 
dans ces vers des Faintes du Monde: 

Tel a rosti dix ans entiers 
Qui n'est pas encore assez fin. 

Peut-etre est-ce encore 1'idee d'echaude? Cela serait une allusion 
aux mesaventures de Pathelin, auquel, plus loin, sa femme rap- 
pelle qu'il a eu maille a partir avec la justice et a fait connaissance 
avec le pilori? 

Un peu plus loin nous rencontrons une expression egalement dif- 
ficile, au vers 216 : 

Encore ay ie denier et maille 
qitoncques ne virent pere ne mere, 

H. dit avec raison qu'il f aut comprendre " qui oncques " . . . . 
Mais il suggere, d'ailleurs sous reserve, une explication un peu trop 
subtile par analogic avec un vieux dicton, "oncques loup ne vit 
son pere." Pathelin ne se paierait-il pas plutot le plaisir de mys- 
tifier le drapier en employant une expression volontairement equi- 
voque et obscurement prometteuse? Pour Pathelin (et pour les 
spectateurs!) cela veut dire tout simplement "des ecus qui n'ont 
pas encore ete frappes ! " Mais 1'esprit du drapier n'etait pas assez 
alerte pour saisir 1'aveu ironique contenu dans cette espece d'apart^. 


Nul doute aussi que cette phrase ne fut soulignee a la scene <Tun 
sourire et d'un clignement d'yeux tout particuliers ! De meme, 
torsque le drapier dit en parlant de Fargent que Pathelin lui a 
promis : 

Ilz ne verront soleil ne lune 

les escus qui me baillera, 

il entend evidemment qu'il les mettra en lieu sur mais en meme 
temps il exprime sans s'en douter et de tres amusante fagon 
rinanite de ses propres espoirs. 

I/allusion du drapier a la grant froidure, au vers 245, 

trestout le bestail est peri 
cest yver par la grant froidure, 

fournit a H. un precieux commentaire. II etablit que cette allu- 
sion doit se rapporter a 1'hiver exceptionnellement rigoureux de 
1464 signale par la Chronique du Mont Saint-Michel. 1464 serait 
ainsi la date a laquelle la Farce de Pathelin est apparue. L' allu- 
sion si curieuse contenue dans les Faintes du Monde de Guillaume 
Alecis, auteur du Blason de Faulses Amours/ 

tels a largent par beau blason 

qui nentend pas son pathelin (859-860). 

ne s'oppose pas a cette hypothese, car rien ne nous defend de re- 
culer jusqu'a 1465 la date des Faintes du Monde, que les editeurs 
de Guillaume Alecis, MM. Piaget et Picot, placent vers 1460. 

Je devrais tout citer, tant est grande la richesse et la plenitude 
de ce commentaire de H. Son travail est ecrit avec un rare et 
intime sentiment du frangais ancien et moderne et il repand sur 
beaucoup de points une clarte decisive. Autant que d'avoir su ex- 
pliquer, il faut lui etre reconnaissant d'avoir su douter methodique- 
ment et d'avoir prefere de fecondes "positions de questions" a 
des solutions hasardees. Le vieux chef-d'ceuvre contient encore 
maints problemes, mais des contributions comme cette Etude de 
Holbrook dessinent la voie vers plus de lumiere. 

Louis CONS. 

Princeton University. 


Pecheur d'Islande, by PIEEKE LOTI, edited with Notes, Exercises, 
and Vocabulary by JAMES F. MASON. New York, Holt, 1920. 

A third school-edition of the same French text, unless measur- 
ably better than its predecessors, would be a work of supereroga- 
tion. Professor Mason, however, fulfills the condition; his version 
of Petfieur d'Islande, a distinct improvement upon Super's, 1 
promises to be the best for those whose chief business with the 
book is linguistic (assuming, dato non concesso, that it is wise to 
make this use of a work so delicate in literary texture) . Peirce's 2 
remains the best for those whose interest is in Loti's art. 

Mason alone provides pedagogical apparatus : Questionnaire, Ex- 
ercices, Sujets de Compositon, Lettres a ecrire. The material is 
not copious ; for the student who should prepare three pages of the 
text there would be on the average one grammatical problem and 
four or five opportunities to formulate in French replies to simple 
questions. But the editor means to be "suggestive rather than 
exhaustive," and, as a point of departure, what he offers should 
prove valuable to the drill-master. The Vocabulary has the appear- 
ance of being well done; a vue (p. 94, 1. 7) and ou bien (p. 104, 
1. 5) should, however, be included, "keep" is correct, but not 
illuminating, for garder (cf. p. 92, 1. 14), and "ridiculous" 
takes somewhat from the flavor of impayable (p. 62, 1. 14) . 3 The 
Notes are, necessarily, reminiscent of those of Peirce and Super, 
although less numerous. One or two seem exceptionable : to explain 
entre deux eaux by " Cf . nager entre deux eaux, ' to swim under 
water/ " will not enlighten the tyro ; * " girl of good birth " is not 
a proper translation for demoiselle in the context (p. 14, 1. 20) ; B 
vielle is not explained at all, although surely a laconic "hurdy- 
gurdy " in the Vocabulary is not adequate for young Americans. 

In the Notes, and elsewhere, Mason evidently does not attempt 
to compete with Peirce. The Notes of the Peirce edition, it is 
worth while to remark, have a quality which both other editions 
lack, and offer, concerning the Breton setting, information directly 
useful in appreciating the story. Indeed Peirce's work here ap- 

1 Heath, 1902. * Ginn, 1913. 

* Cf . British " priceless." * Super's note is more explicit. 

5 Although Peirce gives the same translation. Why not : " In spite of 
her cap she did not look like a peasant girl " ? 


preaches, in degree of excellence, that of Baldensperger in his 
edition of Les Traits eternels de la France (Barres), a model of 
this kind of elucidation, and Peirce's Introduction partakes of the 
same quality, being an elaborate and deft appraisal of the art of 
Loti such as neither of the other two editors has undertaken. 

Less concerned with Pecheur d'Islande as literature, Mason has 
been less unwilling than Peirce to cut the text. A comparison of 
the three abridgements with the original edition of 1886 is reveal- 
ing. With Super it is a case of mutilation ; he has slashed merci- 
lessly, not even preserving the chapter divisions and daring not 
only to omit but to revise. Mason seems to have followed the lead 
of Super to some extent, but he has on the whole shown a greater 
respect for the artist's creation. In view of the exigencies of time 
and decorum (ad usum delphini, Mason puts it), it would be un- 
fair to reprehend Mason's performance, although the fact remains 
that Peirce's is the only version which offers anything like an 
integral text. Not infrequently Mason omits paragraphs which 
contribute appreciably to an understanding of the characters or to 
an enjoyment of the picturesque environment (cf. p. 9, 1. 3; p. 16, 
1. 25; p. 18, 1. 28; p. 43, 1. 22; etc.). These are cases where de- 
corum could not have been an issue. Would it not be better, since 
teachers will continue to demand short texts, to omit more fre- 
quently entire chapters, to offer a smaller number of chapters but 
intact, in their purity, taking those which are, for the delphinus, 

pure ? 7 


Amherst College. 

6 Yale Press, 1918. 

'Misprints are few except in the Notes. The following have been re- 
marked: p. v, 1. 18, read "opportunities"; facing p. 54, Iretons; Notes, 
p. 157 (2, 14), elle avait du; (2, 19), du pantalon; p. 158 (8, 16), Mar- 
guerite; p. 159 (18, 7), faisait; (19, 22), delete en; p. 160 i(43, 9), read 
du; (50, 3), Loguwy; p. 162 (94, 31), delete en; (123, 22), read " him "; 
p. 165, 1. 24, Quel; p. 169, 1. 1, reculerent; p. 170, 1. 22, fallait. 



The Contemporary Drama of France. By FRANK WADLEIGH 
CHANDLER, Professor and Dean in the University of Cincin- 
nati. Boston : Little, Brown & Co., 1920. x -\- 409 pp. 

The French drama as here treated covers three decades from 
the opening of the Theatre Libre (1887) to the end of the World 
War. The period, although seemingly short, counted in France no 
fewer than three hundred dramatic authors, representing a total of 
a thousand plays. Accordingly, the subject presented for the critic 
two possibilities: he might either emphasize the high points, 
noticing only incidentally the subalterns, or else attempt a complete 
study, with proportionately less attention to major dramatists. The 
former course, no doubt, seemed the more tempting, since it required 
little research in tedious details; but the latter, if executed with 
painstaking thoroughness, gave promise of results more gratifying. 
Accepting the monotonous task of giving to all writers sympathetic 
consideration, Professor Chandler has chosen to make a searching 
inquiry, a wise decision for two reasons. In the first place, the 
contemporary French drama, in spite of its imposing array of rep- 
resentatives, can boast no overtowering chieftains. Apart from a 
dozen or so of talent, all are mediocre, yet plenty of them suffi- 
ciently important to justify consideration. Moreover, the leading 
playwrights had frequently received critical attention; what was 
really needed was a comprehensive guide to minor as well as major 
authors. Hence the timeliness of the present book. 

The critic who would embrace the entire dramatic production of 
contemporary France is at the outset confronted with a difficult 
problem, the classification of authors. Probably no other period of 
French literature exhibits a character so split up and devoid of 
main currents. In fact writers commonly characterize it as a maze 
of conflicting influences. Yet Professor Chandler has succeeded 
in bringing order out of chaos. Thanks to his ingenious grouping 
of matter, the various tendencies, though at times indistinct or 
coalescent, assume contour, enabling every playwright to find a 
snug corner. 

In the course of his eleven compact chapters, the author con- 
siders, after " Precursors of the Moderns," such suggestive groups 
as " Naturalism and the Free Theatre," " Ironic Kealists," " Moral- 
ists," "Keformers," "Major Poets and Komancers," "Importers 


and War Exploiters/' In another chapter, " Makers of Mirth/' the 
humorists very properly claim attention. In America we do not 
readily grasp the significance of delicate social satirists like Courte- 
line, Bisson, and Tristan Bernard. Appropriate, elsewhere, is the 
treatment of classic influence and of religious dramatists. Only 
the specialist realizes to what extent neo-classicism and religion are 
reflected in the contemporary French theatre. As for naturalism, 
Mr. Chandler points out succinctly yet adequately its dogmas and 

In considering individual dramatists, Mr. Chandler's judgment 
is sound. With a keen eye he probes beneath the surface, scrutiniz- 
ing, evaluating, and interpreting. Unhampered by prejudice, he 
seeks information cautiously, insuring to all a fair hearing. Dumas 
fils, Becque, Rostand, Richepin, Maeterlinck, Brieux, fimile Fabre, 
Paul Claudel are drawn with a trained hand, salient features being 
so stressed as to individualize the portraits. New interpretations 
and unpublished facts stimulate interest. Frangois de Curel 
receives the merited tribute, " More than any other writer for the 
French stage, he reveals the temperament and personality of 
genius." Henry Bataille is aptly called " a specialist in the pathol- 
ogy of love." Fittingly presented, too, are such minor playwrights 
as Gaston Devore, Sacha Guitry, Paul Gavault, and Robert de Flers. 

Now and then, however, critics might dissent. For instance, 
Maurice Donnay, we think, receives undue praise. It cannot be 
denied that even his Georgette Lemeunier and L'Autre Danger are 
marred by incoherence and caprice. Incorrect titles of plays, such 
as omission of the article in La Sacrifice (p. 354), Les Mouettes 
(401), La Petite Amie (403), La Petite Paroisse (403), occur 
occasionally. On the other hand, the article should be omitted in 
Bagnes d'Enfants (364) and Amoureuse (385). Among minor 
orthographical errors might be mentioned tue-ld (9), Le Veittesse 
de Richelieu (21, 356),. Le Nabob (59, 60, 353, 401), Ganelon 
(277), Vogue (324, 409), Charette anglaise (336, 389), d'Urfee 
(286, 408). Nor is it usual to give Stendhal the particule (53, 
55). The death of Labiche occurred in 1888, FeuiUefs in 1890, 
and that of Judith Gautier in 1917. Trustworthy and this is 
more important are the author's statements about dramas. Inac- 
curacies like "In La Couvee (1893), Brieux assails the menage a 


trois" (223), could probably be counted on the fingers of one 
hand. 1 

Professor Chandler's style is enhanced by his striking power of 
characterization, a quality essential in a tersely condensed book of 
this sort. Frequently he embodies in a few lines the substance of 
a play or the essential facts about a dramatist. Thus of Augier he 
says: "He wrote dramas, not of psychological analysis, nor of 
intrigue, nor of manners, but of social criticism." Feuillet 
impresses him as " delicate rather than robust, a feminine soul, 
sensitive and sentimental/' The critic remarks that Abel Hermant 
lacks the soft indulgence of Capus and the playful fancy of 
de Croisset. " He strips the trappings from the vicious, to sneer 
at their uncloaking." Theodore de Banville, "airy, graceful, 
daring," he affirms, " was a verbal acrobat of irrepressible esprit" 
A page suffices for depicting vividly the career of Andre Antoine. 
NOT could one well improve upon the characterization of Hervieu's 
dramas as " scientific formulas transposed into the key of art." 

Dramatic production in France as manifested during the late 
war, Professor Chandler naturally consider disappointing. The 
rebirth so sorely needed, and confidently expected, did not occur, 
although the unwonted seriousness, latterly, of certain playwrights, 
as witness Sacha Guitry, Bernstein, and de Croisset, reflects the 
regenerating influence of the conflict. Its brutality, in creating 
horror of shuddering realism, proved for the moment the chief 
obstacle to stage reform. For, instead of encouraging seriousness 
and the depicting of eternal traits of character, theatre-goers craved 
gayety and frivolity. As now seems likely, however, the war will 
yet exercise upon the French drama a potent, if indirect influence. 
Indeed the stern aftermath must of itself seriously affect the tem- 
perament and outlook of the playwright. Even though reform 
should but bring lasting discredit upon the silly triangular play, 
well wishers of the French stage will feel much gratified. 

In the preparation of the present volume, Mr. Chandler has 
evidently profited from the knowledge of comparative literature 

1 For example, Michael Pauper does not commit suicide ; Joujou does not 
end as C. describes ; in the third version of Blanchette there is nothing " to 
blink " in the heroine's past ; Vlnvitte is not sentimental, as C. implies ; 
it is scarcely enough to say that the heroine of La Fille sauvage returns to 
Africa to wed her native prince. H. C. L. 


which he revealed six years ago in Aspects of Modern Drama. 
Acquaintance with other contemporary literatures has frequently 
enabled him to make interesting comparisons. Besides throwing 
illuminating sidelights upon foreign plays adapted for the French 
stage, it has contributed directly, also, to his understanding of 
those native dramatists who have reacted to exotic influence. 
Another commendable feature of the book is its bibliographical 
appendix, which gives, with dates, the plays of two hundred thirty- 
four French dramatists of all grades, followed by a judicious list 
of works on the theatre. Concise, lucid, impartial, scholarly with- 
out pedantry, Professor Chandler's book should appeal to the 
general reader, and will be indispensable to students of the drama. 
Brevity is its only fault. 


Indiana University. 

Romain Rolland, Henri Barbusse, Fritz von Unruh. Vier Yor- 
trage von WALTHER KUCHLER. Verlagsdruckerei Wiirzburg, 
1919. 86 pp. 

Kiichler's little book is a model of penetrating criticism, sympa- 
thetic interpretation, and conciliatory spirit. Evidently the author's 
purpose is to bring the German and French intellectuals closer 
together through a demonstration of the spiritual relationship of 
outstanding individuals in the two nations. If only as symptomatic 
of the present mental attitude of the German professor, these essays 
would be noteworthy. Kiichler has given us, however, much more 
than a TendenzwerTc. The four brief essays are models of modern 
literary criticism; an engaging style is here wedded to solid philo- 
logical labor. Earely can there be found in a critical work of like 
compass such satisfactory resumes, such penetrating and judicious 

In choosing Rolland and Barbusse for presentation and inter- 
pretation in Germany, Kiichler has naturally selected authors now- 
termed " defeatist " and practically ostracized by many French- 
men on account of their international views and refusal to hate 
the enemy. In their works the German can be assured of sympa- 
thetic treatment, and a rapprochement is initiated. Reconciliation 
must be brought about through the mutual spiritual understanding 


of independent thinkers in the hostile nations. Fritz von Unruh's 
Opfergang, the tragedy of Verdun, the tragedy of the war for 
Germany, naturally associates itself with the works of Holland, and 
more especially with Le Feu of Barbusse. 

Remain Holland, that Frenchman of all-European culture who 
recognizes that his native land is not isolated, that civilization is 
the common task of all nations, furnishes the most natural point 
of contact for German consideration. Kiichler, the German, is 
fairer to Holland than the latter's fellow-countrymen. He recog- 
nizes that Holland in excoriating France and presenting in Jean 
Christophe a German model for his countrymen, is filled with an 
immense love for his country and is laboring to better conditions in 
France as Tacitus strove to elevate the corrupt Latin civilization 
of his day. He is fully aware that the author of Jean Christophe 
could have no sympathy with the modern capitalistic and imperial- 
istic Germany of Wilhelm II. Both Holland and Kiichler sep 
modern Germany swept along in the immense flood of materialistic 
ambition and Kiichler himself admits the justice of the world- wide 
feeling that the Germany of Goethe, Schiller, Kant, and Beethoven 
was of greater value to the Germans themselves and to the Avorld 
than the imperial Germany after 1870 (p. 8). On 'the whole, 
Kiichler finds that Holland is eminently fair to Germany, fairer 
for example, than the German author Heinrich Mann in Der 
Untertan, and acclaims Holland's literary triumph in creating a 
German with far greater success than that achieved by any German 
author in depicting a Frenchman. He does not, however, lose 
himself in admiration for Holland so far as to forget to criticize 
the French author's not altogether successful attempt to weld 
together two distinct themes, his didactic settlement with France 
and the development of his German hero, Jean Christophe. 

In investigating the sources of Jean Christophe with the few 
materials at his command during the war, Kiichler finds traits of 
Beethoven and Hugo Wolf in the hero with occasional Wagner 
reminiscences. The musician Hassler also is identified by Kiichler 
with Wagner. But is not Hassler's resemblance to Richard Strauss 
far more striking? 

Barbusse's Le Feu is for Kiichler the most significant literary 
creation of the war, a modern Iliad with a still greater theme than 
that of Homer. No novel like Tolstoy's War and Peace or Zola's 



Debacle, but a series of pictures; pictures which are life itself; at 
the same time a mingling of realism and phantasy like Diirer's 
Ritter Tod und Teufel. For Kiichler Le Feu is no mere Tendenz- 
werTc like Latzko's Menschen im Krieg or Frank's Der Mensch ist 
gut. For him it is a great spontaneous passionate outburst of 
protest against war, against the wholesale European madness, as he 
too sees it. 

A single paragraph from the essay on Barbusse will suffice to 
illustrate the critic's mastery in condensation, his skill in reproduc- 
ing in small compass the essentials of a work. 

" Er (Barbusse) schildert, wie der einfache Soldat isst, trinkt, 
hungert, durstet, einschlaft, schlaft, traumt, aufwacht, gahnt, sich 
reckt und streckt, sich juckt und kratzt, immer wieder sich juckt 
und kratzt, dasitzt im Eegen oder in der Sonne, raucht, spuckt, 
spielt, redet, schweigt, schreibt, liest, wie er marschiert bei Tag 
und bei Nacht, wie er mit Spaten und Hacke schanzt, in eiskalter 
Nasse, in klebrigem Unrat, im feindlichen Feuer, wie er auf Posten 
steht, auf Patrouille geht, im Horchloch liegt, wie er plotzlich im 
Angriff steht, kampft, von Kugeln getroffen, von Granaten zerris- 
sen wird, stirbt, verwest, verf ault, vertrocknet." Here we have the 
entire story of Barbusse's squad, the life of the average common 
soldier during four years of deadening service. 

If Kiichler is in accord with the Barbusse of Le Feu, he cannot 
accept the thesis of Clarte that love of the Fatherland shall endure 
but the idea of the Fatherland be destroyed. In general, however, 
he seems to sympathize with the Clarte program. As a literary 
work he overestimates this propagandistic document, comparing it 
even with the work of a Flaubert. Unfortunately, however, in the 
later works of Barbusse as well as of Holland literature suffers 
through subordination to propaganda. 

If Barbusse has given us the epic of the war in Le Feu, Fritz 
von Unruh's Opfergang is the lyrical expression of the conflict, its 
ballad. Earlier entitled Verdun, it depicts Germany's tragedy and 
foreshadows the revolution. In contrast with the mere packages, 
phantoms of men pictured by Barbusse in his squad, Unruh has 
described outstanding lovable personalities. But the nobility of the 
individual, his willingness to sacrifice himself for the cause was 
but an illusion in the great tragedy. Kiichler, accustomed himself 
to the modern German " expressionists " like Edschmidt, hardly 


mentions the peculiar technique of Unruh's style. For an Ameri- 
can, accustomed to the German of the pre-war writers, Unruh's 
sentences are a revelation, a shock, and show what a revolution in 
style has been attempted by youngest Germany. 

After Opfergang, Kiichler describes Bin Geschlecht, the tragedy 
of the Kevolution. If Kiichler's analysis of this work, which he 
calls " undoubtedly one of the greatest and most beautiful poetic 
compositions of Germany," is less successful than his remarkable 
pictures of Jean Christophe or Barbusse's squad, the failure lies in 
the nature of the drama with its formless storm of passionate 
protest and nightly gloom. Perhaps, too, the censor's cuts have 
had their share in rendering more difficult a complete understand- 
ing and adequate interpretation of this drama. 


Cornell University. 

Le Horla 

In response to a question in L'Intermediare (XLIV, 54), three 
different explanations were offered for the title of Maupassant's 
story, Le Horla. Mansuy would explain it by a visit of the author 
to the Cote d'Azur. His presence doubtless aroused the curiosity 
of the tourists, and caused lively discussion of the recently pub- 
lished Mont Oriol, the novel of the growth of a thermal station. 
The Cote d'Azur has always attracted many Russians, and the geni- 
tive of Oriol in Russian is Orla or rather Horla. The frequency 
with which this word was pronounced and the annoying curiosity 
of the foreigners may have impressed the sound on the mind of the 
author. (Intermediare, XLIV, 143-144). A correspondent who 
signs himself H. C. M. finds the reasoning of Mansuy over ingeni- 
ous. He says : " II est evident pour moi qu'ayant a nommer un 
etre mysterieux, d'essence et de formes inconnues, il (Maupassant) 
a du chercher une combinaison de syllabes sonore, etrange, mais 
ne correspondant a aucune idee, a aucune appellation connues. . . . 
Je conclus done que le nom de Horla est une creation reussie, non 
^adaptation d'une forme existante." (Ibid., 203-204). Finally 
B. F. offers another explanation : " Tres logique, le mot cree par 
Maupassant pour exprimer son idee. II n'y a qu' a lire la nouvelle 
du Horla pour voir que Fauteur a voulu rendre par ce terme Fim- 
pression que produit au sujet le f antastique dont il se sent entoure : 
le hors Id." (Ibid., 256). I venture to offer a fourth hypothesis, 


as risky as Mansuy's, but based partly on that of H. C. M. Mau- 
passant was always keenly interested in poetry and counted among 
his intimate friends from the very start Catulle Mendes. He was 
also in frequent intercourse with physicians, partly from anxiety 
about his health and partly because he could get from them subjects 
for his stories. One has only to run over the list of these to be 
struck by the number which he puts into the mouth of medical 
men. Now among the younger Parnassians was the doctor and 
poet, Henri Cazalis. It is unfortunately impossible to determine 
just when Maupassant made his acquaintance, for Cazalis, respect- 
ing the wishes of his friend in regard to personal publicity, de- 
stroyed his letters and declined to add anything to the volume of 
Lombroso. (See Souvenirs sur Maupassant, p. 586). But they 
were certainly intimate toward the end of Maupassant's life : the 
volume L' Inutile Beaute (1890) is dedicated to Cazalis and it 
seems not unreasonable to suppose that they had met, or at least 
that they had known each other's work much earlier. The themes 
of Cazalis' poetry, like those of Maupassant's stories, are love and 
death. Now Maupassant's first works were published under pseu- 
donyms (see Maynial, La Vie et I'CEuvre de Guy de Maupassant, 
p. 80), so that their use by others may well have interested him. 
Cazalis used at least two. Les Chants Populaires de I'ltalie ap- 
peared in 1865 under the name Jean Caselli ; in 1885 Le Cantique 
des Cantiques, traduction en vers d'apres la version de M. Reuss, 
was published under the name of Jean Lahor. 1 The second and 
third editions of his collected poems, L'lllusion, appeared under 
the same pseudonym (1888 and 1893). The first edition (1875) 
was signed with his own name, but Faguet, reviewing the edition 
of 1893 (La Revue Bleue, 7 oct.), calls the author only J. Lahor. 
Le Horla appeared in 1887, two years after the first assumption of 
the pseudonym Jean Lahor by Dr. Cazalis. It is then possible that 
Maupassant may have found the sonorous combination of syllables 
of which H. C. M. speaks by inverting the pseudonym of his friend. 
Maupassant's own feeling for the sonority of proper names is well 
shown by the opening paragraph of his essay on Zola. (See Lom- 
broso, op. cit., p. 635). This pseudonym amounted to a duplica- 
tion of personality how complete, Faguet's review shows; Henri 
Cazalis was the physician, Jean Lahor the poet. Now the Horla 
is conceived as a sort of reduplication of its victim. 

University of Texas. 

1 Probably the capital of the Punjab, Lahore, suggested this name to 
Cazalis. He was always much interested in Hindoo thought and letters. 
In 1888 he published a two volume history of Hindoo literature. Obvi- 
ously the word had appealed to him for its sonority. 



An interrogation mark, set against a sentence in Professor 
Tolman's interesting study of " Drunkenness in Shakespeare " 
(Modern Language Notes, xxxrv, 82 f.), is the start of this bit of 
research. Professor Tolman writes (p. 87) : "I question whether 
a parallel to Cassio's intense shame at being overcome by drink can 
be found in the literature of that period/' Such a parallel is found 
in the beautiful sub-plot, largely or possibly entirely by Francis 
Beaumont, in The Coxcomb. This part of the play, if separated 
from the foul Fletcherian version of the " Curious Impertinent " 
theme which is the main plot, might become widely known and 
admired. 1 Kicardo and Viola, planning an elopement, engage to 
meet " at the next corner to [her] father's house " that same night. 
We next see Kicardo at a tavern with a company of roisterers ; the 
scene is certainly one of the most realistic and successful treat- 
ments of wassailing in the old drama. The versification of the 
opening lines, the conversational tone of the dialogue, and the 
coarseness of treatment seem to indicate Fletcher. But the use of 
prose through most of the scene points to Beaumont. Moreover 
the gradual undermining of Eicardo's resistance to drink is depicted 
with greater seriousness and more art than one looks for in Fletcher. 
At first protesting, disinclination to liquor gives way to praise of 
the "plaguy strong" sack, and at the close of the scene Ricardo 
has completely forgotten his appointment with the gentle Viola and 
sallies forth with his companions in search of some wenches. In 
i, vi, they meet Viola waiting at the arranged rendezvous ; Ricardo, 
not recognizing her, accosts her with drunken freedom of speech. 
Viola exclaims : 

"I never saw a drunken man before; 
But these I think are so " 

and effects her escape. Until towards the end of the play she goes 
through a series of vicissitudes, escaping from the toils of a rough 
tinker and his trull (n, ii: the realistic gusto of the scene reminds 
one of Beggars' Bush and indeed Fletcher may well have had some 
hand in it though it is essential to Beaumont's plot) only to fall 
into the more dangerous snares of a country squire and finally to 
obtain service and harsh treatment on a dairy farm. Meanwhile 
Ricardo, the next morning, recovers his sober senses. His remorse 
at his shameful treatment of his lady-love is depicted vividly in a 

1 The story of Ricardo and Viola occupies the following scenes : i, i, to 
line 36 (Professor Gayley denies this to Beaumont; but I am not convinced 
that it is not his) ; I, v (attributed to Fletcher by Gayley on the score of 
" gratuitous obscenity"; but see below) ; i, vi; n, ii (attributed to Fletcher 
by Gayley for the same reason as I, vi) ; n, iv; m, iii (except last 36 lines 
where Fletcher may perhaps be discerned) ; rv, i; iv, ii; TV, iii ("where 
Fletcher appears at his best in this play" Gayley) ; rv, vii; v, ii; v, iii, 
last 27 lines. 


scene (n, iv) that has reminded Professor Schelling of Shake- 
speare's Cassio (Elizabethan Drama, r, 402). Beaumont's portrayal 
of this weak, well-meaning, self-reproachful gentleman is more 
fluent, less terse, less profound than Shakespeare's ; but it is equally 

"Am I not mad? can this weak-temper'd head, 

That will foe mad with drink, endure the wrong 

That I have done a virgin, and my love? " 

He declares to the fellows who had led him astray that he will never 
leave off drinking; he will "purchase all the wine the world can 

yield " 

" And all this while we'll never think of those 
That love us best, more than we did last night." 

This despairing irony gives place to a determination to follow 
Viola. In a most charming scene he finds her at the farm (v, iii) 
but will not contaminate her by his near approach. He kneels down 
far off ; she comes up to him, at first with faint distrust ; but hear- 
ing his apology : 

" Here I am by you, 

A careless man, a breaker of my faith, 

A loathsome drunkard, and, in that wild fury, 

A hunter after whores : I do beseech you 

To pardon all these faults, and take me up 

An honest, sober, and a faithful man," 

Viola forgives him with a gracious sweetness worthy of Shake- 
speare's women. 

" Methinks, I would not now, for any thing 
But you had miss'd me : I have made a story 
Will serve to waste many a winter's fire, 
When we are old." 

For all the happy outcome, Eicardo has had his lesson from sad 
experience equally with Cassio. 

The Scornful Lady throws, perhaps, additional light upon Beau- 
mont's views on intemperance. This depends upon whether we 
accept Professor Gayley's ascription of i, ii, to him. Beneath the 
" racy realism " of this scene there is some slight condemnation of 
liquor in that it is the younger Loveless, in confederation with 
other boon companions, who here sets about squandering his 
brother's estate while the elder is supposedly away on his travels. 
The younger brother is here (as in The Elder Brother, a fine play 
in which Beaumont had no share) a foil to the virtues of the elder. 
He plans to carry himself like a gentleman while his legs will bear 
him ; " but when I am drunk, let them bear me that can." He will 
spend " all this revenue in drink," " three hundred pounds in 
drink." It is all jovial enough, but the context makes it evident 
that praise of such behavior is far from Beaumont's mind. Some 
such lesson can be drawn even from the character of Merrythought 
in The Knight of the Burning Pestle, who spends his life eating 


good meat, drinking good drink, and laughing; who, so long as 
he has money, meat and drink till to-morrow noon, is not sad ; and 
whose advice to his son as to the proper way of conducting himself 
as a good husband is to " wear ordinary clothes, eat the best meat, 
and drink the best drink, be merry, and give to the poor." Not all 
Beaumont's sympathy is spent upon this genial old fellow. Poor 
Mistress Merrythought has to protest against his course of life 
more than once. " Would I had ne're seen his eyes ! He has 
undone me and himself and his children; and there he lives at 
home, and sings, and hoits, and revels among his drunken com- 
panions; but, I warrant you, where to get a penny to put bread 
in his mouth he knows not." 

Elsewhere Beaumont touches on the theme hardly at all. No 
boastfulness in his cups helps to excuse Bessus. " The talk of 
drunkards in taphouses " is contemptuously alluded to in The 
Woman-Hater (r, iii) and in the same play part of a curse upon 
practicers of the black art is that they may be drunk (in, iii). 
Utter scorn of drunkards is seen in the description of the lustful 
princess in Cupid's Revenge (i, iii by Beaumont) who takes up 
with " a fellow that will hardly serve in the dark when one is 

Beaumont's attitude towards intoxication is thus seen to be that 
of consistent hostility; and in his only elaborate treatment of the 
motive he portrays a sense of the shame that follows a last-night's 
carouse as sincerely and vividly as does Shakespeare in Othello. 
Not that he was in his personal life a teetotaller, an Anderson 
(heaven forbid!). Was not his pleasure in the country to lie 
among the hay-ricks in the sunshine and "dream of your full 
Mermaid wine"? 


Bryn Mawr College. 

BALE'S Kynge Johan AND The Troublesome Raigne 

In the Furness Variorum Edition of King John (Preface, p. ix) 
the editor states, referring to The Troublesome Raigne's relation 
to Bale's earlier play, that " beyond the fact that both the anony- 
mous author and Bale used the historical material furnished by the 
Chronicles, there is no evidence to show that the author of The 
Troublesome Raigne had any recourse to the work of his predeces- 
sor." A research I have recently made has revealed similarities in 
the two plays suggesting the conclusion that at several points the 
later author actually was indebted to Bale. The source for both 
was Holinshed's Chronicles and this common origin invalidates 
many seeming clues. Further, the quite different ideas and char- 
acters of the two make salient likenesses out of the question. Bale's 
being an allegorical combination of morality and history play, and 


The Troublesome Raigne a crude example of pure English chron- 
icle play. But that The Troublesome Raigne is, in certain inci- 
dental details, related to early drama it will not be hard to show. 

Superficially, the most obvious likeness is that both plays are 
divided into two parts, of which the first part ends after the inter- 
diction of England and before the restoration of the Pope's favor. 
Bale interpreted John as a Protestant hero, a defender of the Eng- 
lish Church, a moral giant wielding the " flail of the Lord " against 
papal tyranny. This interpretation of John's stand is not at all 
derived from Holinshed; there John is represented as opposing a 
merely temporal defiance to the Pope's temporal aggression. But 
we see Bale's interpretation again in The Troublesome Raigne. 

A difficulty is experienced in tracing textual similarities because 
of the fact that Bale's play has a far narrower scope than The 
Troublesome Raigne. There are really only three points of con- 
tact in the two. Both contain Cardinal Pandulph's interdiction 
of England in the name of the Pope, and John's relinquishment 
of the crown; the subsequent removal of the curse, and the resto- 
ration of the crown and power to the king ; the death of King John 
by poisoning at Swinstead Abbey. These three scenes are taken 
by both authors direct from Holinshed. The first two show no 
unexplained likenesses, and this is not to be wondered at. In Bale 
the characters are symbolical, representing vices of the Eoman 
Church; in The Troublesome Raigne the treatment is purely histo- 
rical. Furthermore, there are no striking phrases in the early play 
for the later dramatist to seize upon. The parallel scenes at Swin- 
stead Abbey, however, which include the poisoning of the king, 
show a marked similarity. This scene in Bale's version is quite 
forceful, and has scarcely a trace of allegory. Tho the murder is 
committed by Dissimulation, he seems to have lost most of his 
symbolism ; in fact he has disguised himself as " Father Simon, a 
Cisteane monke." The first noticeable likeness is in the motive 
for the poisoning, which is the same in both plays. In the Chron- 
icles the reason for the monk's treachery is given as patriotic; he 
poisons John to save England from a rise in the price of corn, 
which John had threatened as a punishment of the people for their 
desertion to the French dauphin. In Bale, however, the whole 
trend of the action is a preparation for the denouement: Dissimu- 
lation commits the murder because the king has flouted Pope and 
Church, and openly condemned Dissimulation, Sedition and their 
friends. In The Troublesome Raigne one of the monks of Swin- 
stead poisons John, " the king that never loved a friar, as he calls 
him. because John is "a man that doth contemn the Pope " and 
" robd the holy Church." In both the poisoner outlines his plan 
to his master, who is Sedition in Bale and the abbot in The Trouble- 
some Eaiqne, and receives from him absolution for his intended 
crime and the promise that the monks of the Abbey shall pray daily 
for his soul. The two poisoning scenes show very significant simi- 


larities which the text of Holinshed does not account for. In 
Bale, Dissimulation, disguised as Father Simon, enters crying: 

Wassayle, wassayle, out of the mylke payle, 
Wassayle, wassayle, as whyte as my nayle, 
Wassayle, wassayle, in snowe, frost, and hayle, 
Wassayle, wassayle, with partriche and rayle, 
Wassayle, wassayle, that muche doth avayle, 
Wassayle, wassayle, that never wyll fayle, 

and the king, inviting Dissimulation to act as taster, says, "Be- 
gynne, gentle monke." In The Troublesome Raigne the traitorous 
monk greets the king with the words, " Wassayle, my Liege, and 
as a poore monke may say, welcome to Swinstead." " Begin, 
Monke," replies the cautious king. Holinshed gives only the sub- 
stance of the two versions, the monk's plot to kill the king and 
readiness to die too, if he be asked to taste the potion, the king's 
request to this effect, and the monk's compliance and death. It is 
the similarities of wording which are significant. The Chronicles 
have merely that John was given " poison in a cup of ale." Bale 
names the drug specifically as " poyson of toade," and in The 
Troublesome Raigne the monk, as he watches the king drink down 
his deadly stirrup-cup, and begins to feel the poison creep through 
liis own system, gasps out : 

" If the inwards of a toad be a compound of any proof why so : 
it works ! " 

The summary of the evidence that The Troublesome Raigne was 
suggested, in part at least, by Bale's Kynge Johan is as follows: 
both plays are divided at the same point in the principal action 
into two parts ; the poisoning scenes, which are the only scenes that 
receive a like handling by both authors, are similarly motivated 
and treated, and contain several identical phrases ; the designation 
of the poison itself is the same in both ; the character of King John 
receives the same interpretation. None of these points of resem- 
blance is traceable to Holinshed. The evidence is not profuse, but 
it is weighty enough to make its setting forth less a matter of 
argument than of simple exposition. 


Washington, Conn. 


It is generally supposed that Shakespeare's Timon of Athens 
has been seldom acted. It has, however, been a favourite play for 
revision. The first revision was probably Shadwell's, Timon of 
Athens, or the Manhater, acted at Dorset Garden in 1678. This 
version was given again on the following dates: June 27, 1707; 
December 8, 1720 ; May 1, 1733 ; March 20, 1740 ; and April 20, 
1745. A version by Kichard Cumberland was acted at Drury Lane 


Theatre on December 4, 1771. At about the same time another 
form of the tragedy, arranged by James Love, was performed. (On 
February 6, 1711 an amateur presentation of Timon was given at 
the Clerkenwell School, and there is unconfirmed evidence that the 
play was acted in Dublin in 1715). Shakespeare and Shadwell, 
blended by Thomas Hull, were both discernible in a performance 
of Timon at Covent Garden on May 13, 1786. Edmund Kean 
acted in Timon of Athens on October 28, 1816, and Samuel Phelps 
on September 15, 1851. This version was revived on October 11, 
1856. Charles Calvert may have put on the tragedy in Manches- 
ter in 1864, but probably the next appearance of Timon was at 
F. E. Benson's revival at Stratford-on-Avon on April 22, 1892. 
The last English performance was probably at the Cort Theatre, 
London, in May, 1904. 1 STANLEY T. WILLIAMS. ' 

Yale University. 


In Modern Language Notes, xxm (1908), 32, I questioned the 
accuracy of two traditional statements: (1) that the conception of 
Pegasus as the poet's steed is found first in Boiardo's Orlando 
Innamorato; (2) that it was ascribed to Boiardo by Lenz, in Der 
Neue Teutsche Merkur, in 1796. 

As for the first of these statements, I am still waiting for some- 
one to give a definite reference to canto and stanza in Boiardo. As 
for the second, I find now that my scepticism was quite justifiable. 
I have at last seen a copy of Der Neue Teutsche MerJcur for July, 
1796 a copy owned by my Johns Hopkins colleague Dr. William 
Kurrelmeyer. As I had suspected, Lenz did not make the definite 
statement which has long been ascribed to him. All he said was: 
" Dieser dichterische Eitt blieb der Erfindungskraf t der neuern 
Dichter vorbehalten, unter welchen ihn zuerst der Italiener Bo- 
jardo im Orlando inamorato versucht haben soil." 

In a paper read before the Academic des Inscriptions et Belles- 
Lettres, Paris, Aug. 22, 1919, M. Salomon Eeinach stated that this 
conception of Pegasus does not appear before the sixteenth century. 
In my communication to MLN, 1908, I quoted it from a poem of 
the year 1497, Juan del Enzina's Tragedia trovada a la dolor osa 
muerte del principe Don Juan: 

Despierta, despierta tus fuerzas, Pegaso, 
Tti que llevabas a Belerof onte ; 
LleYame & ver aquel alto monte, 
Mu6strame el agua mejor del Parnaso, etc. 

The Johns Hopkins University. WlLFKED P. MUSTARD. 

1 A full account of these versions, together with the stage-history of 
Timon of Athens on the French, German, and American stages, may be 
found in Modern Philology for September, 1920. 



In the accounts of the life of Thomas Hoccleve, it has not been 
noted that in 1395 Bichard II granted him a corrody in the priory 
of Hayling, near the Isle of Wight. The grant, which bears date 
of January 22 (17 Kichard II.), states that 'Thomas Hoccleve 
clericus ' is sent to the prior and convent of Hayling to receive such 
sustenance for the term of his life as William Gambon, defunct, 
had at the request of King Edward III. 1 As there is no reason to 
suppose that at this time Hoccleve retired from his clerkship and 
resided in the priory, presumably the corrody was commuted for 
a money annuity. 2 In the first year of Henry IV another entry 
in the Close Rolls states that Thomas Hoccleve has requested that 
his corrody at Hayling be transferred to ' our beloved clerks ' Wil- 
liam Flete and William Gedney and that the request has been 
granted. 3 Evidently Hoccleve had disposed of his corrody in much 
the same way as Chaucer did of his annuity. 4 

University of Chicago. 


Ueber ein- und dreihebige Halbverse in der altenglischen alli- 
terierenden Poesie, von Erich Neuner (Berlin, Mayer & Miiller, 
1920). Normally this study would have appeared in 1914. The 
author's service in the war delayed his promotion to the degree of 
Ph. D. until June, 1920, when the printed dissertation was duly 
presented to the University of Berlin. 

The outstanding points of interest in this mongraph will subor- 
dinate fault-finding with immaturity in linguistic reasoning, and 
with a lack of taste in commanding the printer's devices for the 
( display ' of the matter. These points are two in number : a new 
questioning of the validity of rhythmic principles assumed by Kie- 
ger and Sievers in the theory of Anglo-Saxon versification, and 
the implied endorsement of this questioning by Professors Brandl 
and Heusler. 

The system of scansion as formulated by Professor Sievers ad- 
mits certain unusual features of rhythmic movement, such as the 
juxtaposition of the stresses in type C, and the rhythmic peculiari- 

1 Close Roll. 235. mem. 22, dorso. Gambon was a valletus of the King's 
chamber in 1368. See Life-Records of Chaucer, iv, p. 167, also p. 177. 

'See C. Plummer, Fortesque, Notes pp. 337-38 (cited in N. E. D. s. v. 
'corrody') on the possibility of such commutation, and for more definite 
evidence my Chaucer's Official Life, p. 24, where I have pointed out that 
Gambon held several corrodies at the same time. 

8 C. R. 245 mem. 9. dorso. 

4 See Chaucer's Official Life, p. 68 and Professor Samuel Moore's " Studies 
in the Life-Records of Chaucer," Anglia, xxv, 19 ff. 


ties of types D and E. But the essential correctness of the types, 
in respect of an acceptable rhythmic movement is confirmed by the 
persistence of the 'native' versification into the later periods of 
the language, sustaining itself in national consciousness under the 
severest tests of linguistic revolutions and in a necessary surrender 
to foreign supremacy. On the other hand, the unassailable merit 
of the system consists in its complete fidelity to the accentual prin- 
ciples of the language. It is by the .help of Anglo-Saxon versifica- 
tion, as formulated by Sievers, that the grammarian arrives at the 
details relating to word-accent and sentence-emphasis, and it is 
this earliest versification that gives the clearest view of the rhyth- 
mic resources inherent in the language, a view that is still not 
appreciated by many prosodists, altho it is manifestly indis- 
pensable to a right understanding of the rhythmic management 6f 
the language in all periods of its history. 

Hardly any one's guess would hit the specific meaning of the 
title of Dr. Neuner's dissertation. One would at once say, and 
correctly too, that the purpose is to show that all the half-lines of 
the accepted normal types do not have just two stresses, but that 
some are also organically constructed with but one stress, others 
with three stresses. The accentually strong types D and E might 
also be suspected to receive special attention in connection with a 
theoretical three-stress form, but the one-stress form would proba- 
bly not be suspected to be Sievers' A3. 

A description of A3 may for convenience be quoted from Bright' s 
Anglo-Saxon Reader, p. 232 : ( The first half -line admits a notable 
form of type A. The alliteration is restricted to the second arsis, 
because of the light character of the first arsis. The lightness of 
the first foot is also favorable to an increased number of syllables 
in the thesis/ Few teachers will not admit that the beginner has 
difficulty in promptly recognizing this form. One may be justified 
in assuming that this experience of the beginner has been shared 
by Dr. Neuner, and has led him to attempt to prove that the ac- 
cepted scansion of the form is not correct. When the alliteration 
is deferred to the second foot, can it not be shown that the versifier 
has purposely produced a half -line with but one stress (einhelig) ? 
Dr. Neuner believes that it can, and proceeds to do it. The point 
of attack is, of course, the lightness of the first stress, which is 
often not strictly warranted by the grammatical gradation of ac- 
cents available for ictus, what is here designated die DynamiTc der 

Accepting the types set up by Sievers as the most satisfactory 
Arleitshypothese, Dr. Neuner has gone over (ausgeleutet) the 
entire Beowulf to obtain complete lists of (1) Helungs- W drier, 
(2) Hebungsfahige W drier, (3) Unhebige W drier. Armed with 
this mass of evidence (pp. 13-33), he advances to the attack of A3, 
which is conducted under the 'cry' EinhebigJceit (pp. 33-48). 
The argument is based on an alternative proposition resulting from 


the evidence of the foregoing lists, according to which the syllables 
preceding the alliterating foot in A3 are, in the instance of a num- 
ber (mehrere) of these half -lines, all excluded from the categories 
capable of stress. It follows, therefore, either that these half-lines 
are to be regarded as structurally complete with only one stress, 
or that for these forms one must admit principles governing avail- 
ability of stress that differ from the principles observed in the 
structure of all other types having more than one stress. 

The demonstration is at once refuted by the admission that the 
stress of the first foot (to keep the usual designation) falls on a 
word that belongs to the list of hebungsfdhige Worter, for this is 
just the condition that justifies the exclusive alliteration of the 
second foot. Another position for a weak foot is at the end of the 
line, and in these light feet the grammatical weight of the ictus is 
also that of syllables ' capable of the ictus/ Of course every final 
foot of the complete line is not weak, just as A3 is merely a varia- 
tion of type A with alliteration of the first foot, or of both the 
first and second. Manifestly these two well marked classes of the 
light stress are equally indispensable factors of the rhythm. Surely 
to deny the regular rhythmic function of one of these classes in- 
volves the question of the rhythmic validity of the other. 

Dr. Neuner does not, however, reason in the manner suggested. 
He has notably failed to read the evidence of his second list of 
stress-elements. Thruout that list the stress of the last foot of 
the line he has classified as secondary (Nebenhebung), which is 
not only in violation of rhythmic structure, but is directly sub- 
versive of his specific contention respecting A3. The dominant 
principle of Germanic sentence-accent and of stress gives pre- 
cedence in weight to the first positon in a sequence of grammatic- 
ally equal elements, but that in itself does not rob the element in 
the second position of its rhythmic value. In stSSaw hatan and 
cer ne stiSftan (Beo. 2806 b, 718 b), the stress on stiSftan is in each 
instance a true rhythmic stress. Still this precedence in position 
is not to be undervalued. In the second half-line it commands the 
right of alliteration. In A3 this precedence is overpowered by the 
grammatical weight of the second stress, but it remains operative 
in sustaining the rhythmic function of the initial but light foot. 

Turning now to the chapter entitled EinhebigTceit with its page 
upon page of examples (from Beowulf) of this figment of first 
half-lines allowed to have but one stress, one immediately encoun- 
ters a statement that the rejected stresses are on words that have 
been shown in the preceding chapter to be capable of light stress 
(Nebenhebung}. Stresses allowed in the second half -line are now 
excluded from the rhythm: syftftan he for wlenco (1206), sySSan ic 
on yrre (2092) illustrate the point. More space than is here avail- 
able would be required to show the amplitude of this contradiction 
in denying stresses in the first half -line that are admitted into the 
second half -line, but here is one more illustration of it : ehtende wees 


(159 b), wees mm feeder (262 a). But a complete collation of the 
light stresses in these two positions would leave a considerable 
residuum of light stresses that are especially appropriate at the 
beginning of the line. These are made appropriate by logical 
emphasis. Prominent among the words thus stressed are swa, 06, 
gif, ac, }>cet, $a,ftcer, and a few others; and the finite verb should 
be mentioned, altho it is also frequent at the end of the line, which 
clearly demonstrates the rhythmic parity just pointed out. 

Dr. Neuner has classified his examples according to pseudo- 
technicalities, non-significant distinctions in the order and num- 
ber of the words in the initial foot ; and he has obscured his mean- 
ing in many instances by his uniform disuse of stress-marks. With 
apparently a feeble sense for rhythm, he has enslaved his judg- 
ment to a fixed evaluation of the grammatical categories, so that 
when these crowd in upon him in diversified groupings his dis- 
comfiture and helplessness are complete. He consequently takes 
refuge in a theory that resolves his difficulties with a succession of 
light words and an excess of incidental (blind) alliteration. As 
formulated (pp. 48, 84), the resultant theory is as follows: The 
half -lines designated by A3 are mono-stressed, because the so-called 
first foot contains no word of inevitable stress, but only words of 
two classes, those that may carry a secondary stress, and those that 
are found to be always unstressed. Moreover, the mono-stressed 
form serves a special stylistic purpose. Standing at the beginning 
of a clause, it supplies a gradual approach to weightier expression 
(als Eingang zu folgender Emphase) ; sie sind also Mittel indi- 
rekter Emphase. 

The indirect emphasis of the light forms considered is comple- 
mented by the direct emphasis of the heavy forms of D and E. 
This function has been conceded to hypermetric forms, but the 
Dynamik der Redeteile establishes the scansion with three stresses 
of those half -lines which have three ' important ' words, words 
fully entitled to stress. Briefly that is the conclusion of the second 
branch of Dr. Neuner's argument. His erroneous reasoning now 
becomes especially surprising. He fails to grasp the grammatical 
and accentual principles that led Kieger to notice the operation of 
enclisis in a sequence of ' important ' words ; and he does not per- 
ceive how this results in making clear that the principle of word- 
grouping is in strict conformity with the accentuation of sub- 
stantive compounds. In his interpretation of A3 he has not per- 
ceived the rhythm in a sequence of light words ; and now in dealing 
with forms of D and E he commits, with perhaps less excuse, the 
gross error of disregarding the principles governing, in both prose 
and verse, the accentuation and rhythmic movement of sequences of 
words belonging to the weightier categ9ries. In all this he submits 
to be controlled by the exigencies of his theory, according to which 
scansion is determined by the detached weight of stress-elements. 


He has taken a step backward from the position gained by com- 
petent study. 

Undoubtedly the grammatical features of the Anglo- Saxon line 
are correctly codified in the types devised by Professor Sievers; 
and the Zweihebungstheorie is, one must believe, irrefutable. If 
anything can be done in the way of expounding the aesthetic re- 
sponse to this system of rhythmic forms (and to the later * tum- 
bling verse '), Dr. Neuner has surely not shown how that is to be 
done. j. w. B. 

A Study of Shakespeare's Versification, with an Inquiry into the 
Trustworthiness of the Early Texts, an Examination of the 1616 
Folio of Ben Jonson's Works, and Appendices including a Revised 
Text of 'Antony and Cleopatra/ By M. A. Bayfield (Cambridge, 
At the University Press, 1920). The promised book (see MLN. 
xxxv, 126) has appeared, but with a title so amplified and varied 
as to divert the mind from the specific expectation aroused by the 
author's preliminary treatise setting forth " A New System of 
English Prosody." 

It is a hopeless task to attempt to convince Professor Bayfield 
of the error dominating his scansion of what is plainly iambic 
versification. One can only ask him to clear his conscience as a 
scholar by a careful study of the principles of English accentua- 
tion and of the principles observed by the poets thru the centuries 
in sustaining the rhythmic permissibilities of the language, thus 
establishing a rhetoric of verse more subtile in calling up the finer 
distinctions of the meaning of words and the finer relations of the 
thought than the rhetoric of prose-emphasis as usually understood. 
Plain words in this matter have become necessary. As a classical 
scholar Professor Bayfield would surely not be tolerant of a novice 
in Greek who might venture by subjectivities and unsound analo- 
gies to overthrow results of Greek scholarship. Many so-called 
prosodists are the merest tyros in the knowledge of the rhythmic 
principles of English, it is a class to which a scholar does not 

Adhering to the trochaic theory, set forth in The Measures of 
the Poets, the author scans countless lines in support of that un- 
happy figment. Not to perceive the simple iambic movement of 
the following lines, chosen at random, does not prepare one to 
discuss the versification of any English poet. Professor Bayfield 
scans as follows, marking off anacrusis by a vertical line of dots, 
and interpretating the movement as being trochaic, with assumed 
pauses, resolutions, and prolongations: 

I come to | bury | Caesar, | not to | praise him. 

To i sleep; per | chance to | dream: ay | there's the | rub. A 

That my I keen \ knife A | see not the | wound it | makes. 


But in the stately volume of more than five hundred pages the 
author's purpose is to show that the characteristic feature of Shake- 
speare's verse is an excessive use surpassing that of any of his 
contemporaries of ' resolutions/ which have tempted " the actors 
to mangle it [the verse] by clipping the words when they could, 
and provoking those responsible for the Quartos and the Folio, 
and modern editors also, to do their best to eliminate them as 
improper/' The excess is not there, tho Shakespeare may have 
become more free in this matter in the progress of his art; and 
printers and editors were surely influenced by varying fashion in 
the spelling of words and in sequences that admitted the mark of 

Between the " good metre " of Gascoigne, for example, which is 
notoriously regular and the loosely running lines of a Massinger 
there lies a wide belt of variations in the practice of { resolution ' 
and of devices that are classed under the general head of ' slur- 
ring'; and within the limits of this scale of variations falls the 
practice of using secondary accents as ictus. To observe a poet's 
place on this scale is to pave the way to the recognition of charac- 
teristic features of his art. But that this ' placing ' of a poet is 
not a task so easy that the merest novice may perform it, is demon- 
strated in the divergency of results when it has been attempted by 
professional hands. There is still disagreement respecting Chau- 
cer's versification, a subject that has, for the most part, been in 
only professional hands ; but here all controversy has been, accord- 
ingly, reduced to matters of relatively minor importance. One 
schooled in Chaucer's versification is not misled by the traditions 
or caprices of orthography; the law of rhythm is dominant and 
discloses the poet's manner of adapting the language to it. Shake- 
speare's versification is, from this point of view, a simpler problem, 
but Professor Bayfield has brought fresh confusion into it by first 
holding the poet to the observance of structural details that no 
English poet could ever have accepted as warranted by the rhythmic 
principles of the language; and secondly, by unsound reasoning 
touching the fashion of the printer's orthography, for by the con- 
temporary evidence of more responsible editorship the argument 
from the Quartos and Folio (p. 50 ff.) has been rightly turned just 
the other way. 

Professor Bayfield has erected a monument to misapplied indus- 
try. The chapters reported on the title-page are deprived of seri- 
ous interest because he has based all discussion on an absurdly 
erroneous theory of rhythmic structure and on an incomplete 
knowledge of the elementary and fundamental facts in the histo- 
rical grammar and conventionalities of English rhythms. 

j. w. B. 



" This woman and I, though we came together as poor as poor 
might be, not having so much household stuff as a dish or spoon 
betwixt us both, yet this she had for her part, The Plain Man's 
Pathway to Heaven and The Practice of Piety. ... In these two 
books I should sometimes read with her, wherein I also found some 
things that were somewhat pleasing to me." Grace Abound- 
ing, 15. 

The two books which Bunyan's wife brought with her as her 
dowry Arthur Dent's Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven and Lewis 
Bayly's Practice of Piety enjoyed a rare degree of popularity. 
Dent's little book, which first appeared in 1601, had reached its 
twenty-fourth edition as early as 1637, while Bishop Bayly's Prac- 
tice of Piety, first published in 1612, had run through some fifty 
editions by 1673 and been translated into several foreign languages. 

The Practice of Piety " was a book," declares Dr. Brown, " to be 
read when men read books, not many but much." x It consists of 
homilies, and, as its title suggests, pious precepts for a religious 
life. It contains no suggestion of anything allegorical. I have been 
unable to discover any traces of its influence upon Bunyan's style. 
In the case of the Pathway there is a different story to tell. Bun- 
yan's indebtedness to Dent was, as I hope to show, far greater than 
his modest acknowledgment in Grace Abounding would lead one 
to suspect. 

Arthur Dent was an ardent Puritan. He matriculated as a pen- 
sioner of Christ's College, Cambridge, November 15, 1571, taking 
his B. A. degree in 1575-6, and his M. A. in 1579. The following 

1 John Brown, John Bunycm, 1885, p. 57. 



year we find him rector of South Shoebury, Essex. He was soon 
subjected to considerable persecution from Bishop Ay liner, his 
Diocesan, for " refusing to wear the surplice and omitting the sign 
of the cross in baptism." He was one of the twenty-seven ministers 
who, being unable to subscribe to the declaration that "there is 
nothing contained in the book of Common Prayer contrary to the 
word of God/' sent in a petition to the Lords of the Queen's 
Council. He was greatly admired as a preacher, and his printed 
sermons, which ran through many editions, were held in high 
esteem. He died about 1607. 

The Pathway is written in dialogue form. There are four char- 
acters : Theologus, a Divine ; Philagathus, an honest man ; Asune- 
tus, an ignorant man ; and Antilegon, a caviller. Theologus is the 
chief expositor of the questions propounded by Philagathus, while 
Asunetus and Antilegon offer frequent objections and display little 
or no knowledge of spiritual matters. The book is divided into 
nineteen chapters. (I) deals with " Man's Corruption and 
Misery"; (II) with "Regeneration"; (II-XII) with the. "Nine 
manifest signs of man's condemnation, namely, pride, whoredom, 
covetousness, contempt of the gospel, swearing, lying, drunken- 
ness, idleness, oppression"; (XIII) "The Dreadful Effects of Sin 
on Individuals and Upon Nations"; (XIV) "Marks and Evi- 
dences of Salvation"; (XV) "Predestination and Election"; 
(XVI) "Hindrances in the Way of Man's Salvation"; (XVII) 
" The Sin and Danger of Ignorance With the Vast Importance of 
the Gospel Ministry as a Remedy"; (XVIII) "Christ's Coming 
to Judgment"; (XIX) "Conviction and Conversion Gospel 
Consolations and Conclusions." At the close of the discussion are 
appended a few prayers suitable for morning and evening devotions. 
While these discussions frequently grow tedious, there are many 
passages in which the author treats the sins and follies of his own 
day in a trenchant, vigorous style not unlike that of his more 
gifted successor. 

It is in The Life and Death of Mr. Badman that the influence 
of the Pathway is most apparent. This book, intended by Bunyan 
as a companion-picture to the Pilgrim's Progress, was published 
by Nathaniel Ponder in 1680. It is a story of unusual power. 
Froude, after pronouncing it " a very remarkable story," adds, " it 
is extremely interesting, merely as a picture of vulgar English life 
in a provincial town such as Bedford was when Bunyan lived there. 


The drawing is so good, the details so minute, the conception so 
unexaggerated, that we are disposed to believe we must' have a real 
history before us." 2 

There is, indeed, no reason for not accepting at their face value 
Bunyan's own words addressed to the " Courteous Header " : "I 
have/' he writes, " as little as may be gone out of the road of my 
own observation of things. Yea, I think, I may truly say that to the 
best of my remembrance, all the things that here I discourse of, I 
mean as to matter of fact, have been acted upon the stage of this 
world, even many times before mine eyes/' The story of Badman's 
life is interspersed with numerous other stories of the sins and 
punishments that have befallen wicked persons. Several of these 
are taken from Clarke's LooTcing-Glass for Sinners, others from the 
writer's own observation. 3 In the Preface Bunyan declares that 
his reason for concealing the names of many of the persons whose 
sins and punishments he has related is that he does not wish to 
heap disgrace and contempt upon them nor to provoke those of 
their relations who survive them. 4 Undoubtedly, in and around 
Bedford, there must have been abundant material for a life and 
death of Mr. Badman, 

But this in no sense debars us from believing that Bunyan was 
susceptible to the influence of other writers, especially when we 
know that he was familiar, as he certainly was, with such works as 
Dent's Pathway. Dent's influence is seen first of all in the general 
framework which Bunyan adopted for his Life and Death of Mr. 
Badman. Like the Pathway, it is in dialogue form, but instead 
of four interlocutors, as in the Pathway, there are only two Mr. 
Wiseman and Mr. Attentive. Mr. Wiseman is the chief expositor, 
as is Theologus of the earlier work, while Mr. Attentive plays much 
the same role as does Philagathus that of questioner. Bunyan 
has no character corresponding to either Asunetus or Antilegon, 
unless Badman be thought of as a composite of the two. But 
Badman, it should be added, never appears in person; his whole 
story is put into the mouth of Mr. Wiseman, 

The dialogue in both books begins in much the same way. Mr. 

'Froude, Bunyan, English Men of Letters, p. 112. 

* Offor, Bunyan's Works, 1S67, m, 590, One, the Story of Old' Tod, has 
become familiar through Browning's dramatic poem, Ned Bratts. 
4 Offor, rn, 593. 


Wiseman, meeting Mr. Attentive early one morning, notes his look 
of concern 'and inquires what is the matter, whether he has lost 
any of his cattle. Mr. Attentive confesses to a feeling of anxiety, 
but not because of anything he has lost ; " it is because of the 
badness of the times." Mr. Wiseman admits that the times are 
bad, and with that gives a great sigh. 

Attentive. "But why, good Sir, do you sigh so deeply . . .?" 

Wiseman. " I am concerned with you for the badness of the 
times, but that was not the cause of that sigh. ... I sighed at 
the remembrance of the death of that man for whom the bell tolled 
at our town yesterday." 5 

Atten. "My, I trow, Mr. Goodman your neighbor is not dead. 
Indeed I did hear that he had been sick." 

Wise. "No, no, it is not he ... If he had died, I should 
only have been concerned that the world had lost a light ; but the 
man that I am concerned for now was one that never was good, 
therefore such an one who is not dead only, but damned. . . ." 

Mr. Attentive is eager to know who the man is : he has sufficient 
leisure, he declares, to hear the whole story. " So they agreed to 
sit down under a tree. Then Mr. Wiseman proceeded as fol- 

On a pleasant afternoon in May Philagathus meets Theologus 
walking through the fields. They have no sooner exchanged greet- 
ings than they see approaching a couple of neighbors of the next 
parish Asunetus, " a very ignorant man in God's Matters," and 
Antilegon, "a notable atheist and caviller against all goodness." 
Asked what has brought them hither, Asunetus replies : " Indeed, 
sir, we have some little business; for we came to talk with one of 
your parish, about a cow we should buy of him," This remark 
gives rise to a conversation concerning the high price of cows, which 
is suddenly interrupted by Philagathus: 

" I pray you, Mr. Theologus, leave off this talking of kine, and 
worldly matters; and let us enter into some speech of matters of 
religion, whereby we may do good, and take good of one another." 

Theol. " You say well ; but it may be these men's business re- 
quireth haste, so as they cannot stay." 

Strangely enough, Bunyan toward the close of the story seems to have 
forgotten this sentence. He there speaks of Badman's having been " buried 
seventeen days." (See Offor, m, 656. 


Asun. " No, Sir, We are in no great haste, we can stay two or 
three hours for the days are long. . . ." 

TheoL " Then if it will please you to walk to yonder oak tree, 
there is a goodly arbor, and handsome seats, where we may all sit 
in the shadow, and confer of heavenly matters." 


Mr. Wiseman now proceeds to tell the story of Badman's life. 
Though descended from godly parents, he was bad from the very 
beginning; he was in fact, "the ring-leader and master-sinner 
from a child." One of the particular sins to which he was addicted 
as a child was lying. " He would invent, tell, and stand to the lies 
that he invented and told, and that with such an audacious face, 
that one might even read in his very countenance the symptoms of 
a hard and desperate heart this way." It was not for lack of 
admonition that Badman was given over to this vice, for he had 
been told over and over again that " ' all liars shall have their part 
in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone/ and that who- 
soever loveth and maketh a lie, should not have any part in the 
new and heavenly Jerusalem." Lying, it is pointed out, is particu- 
larly heinous in that " a spirit of lying is the devil's brat, for he is 
a liar and the father of it." And yet there are " some men that 
will not stick to tell lie after lie, though themselves get nothing 
thereby. They will tell lies in their ordinary discourse with their 
neighbors, also their news, their jests, and their tales, must needs 
be adorned with lies, or else they seem to bear no good sound to 
the ear, nor show much to the fancy of him to whom they are told." 

Philagathus and Theologus are, if anything, even more severe 
in their condemnation of the sin of lying. " This vice," declares 
Philagathus, " is almost as common as swearing. For it is hard to 
find a man who will speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing 
but the truth." " Such a man," replies Theologus, " is hardly to 
be found among the sons of men. They be black swans in the 
earth, they be white crows; they be rare birds." Lying is the 
particular vice of servants and shopkeepers. Some shopkeepers 
" will lie as fast as a dog will trot." " Oh that we could hate it," 
cries Philagathus, " as the devil, which is the father of it ; and as 
hell-fire, which is the reward of it!" After pointing out the 
heinousness and prevalence of this vice, both Dent and Bunyan 
cite examples from the Scriptures of punishment for lying. " Can 


you not give one some example of God's judgments upon liars?" 
asks Mr. Attentive. Similarly, Philagathus inquires of Theologus, 
" Have we not examples in the Scriptures of such as have been 
punished for lying ? " 


In addition to lying, Badman was given to stealing. But these 
sins were not all. "Alas, alas, he swarmed with sins even as a 
beggar with vermin, and that when he was but a boy." He " could 
not endure the Lord's day. . . . Beading the Scriptures, hearing 
sermons, Godly conference, repeating of sermons and prayers, were 
things that he could not away with." Whenever the Scriptures 
were read or talked of in his presence, Badman would sleep, talk 
of other business, or raise objections to their authority and inspira- 
tion. He was no less irreverent toward those who " did bear in 
their foreheads the name, and in their lives the image of Christ." 
He either made mock of them or else swore they " did all in deceit 
and hypocrisy." "And if he could get anything by the end that 
had scandal in it, if it did but* touch professors, how falsely soever 
reported, ! then he would glory, laugh, and be glad, and lay it 
upon the whole party ; saying, ' Hang them rogues, there is not a 
barrel better herring of all the holy brotherhood of them. Like 
to like, quoth the devil to the collier, this is your precise crew/ ' ; 

The fourth sin of man's damnation, according to Dent, is the 
contempt of the gospel. This is a sin attended with great peril 
and danger. " It is to spit God in the face. It is high treason 
against the King of glory." And yet it is lamentable how little 
men prize the gospel. They esteem it no more than an egg-shell. 
" While the gospel is preached in their churches, many are at 
cards, and tables, in ale houses. Many upon the sabbaths, sleep 
upon their beds, all the sermon while, in the afternoon." Others 
attend church in the morning. They " serve God in the forenoon, 
and the devil in the afternoon ; some run after whores and 'harlots 
on the sabbaths ; some run to dancing and bear-baitings ; some sit 
upon their stalls; some sit in their shops; some by the fire-side; 
some sit idly in the streets ; some go to the stool-ball, and others 
look on. miserable wretches ! cursed caitiffs ! monstrous 
hell-hounds; which so grossly and openly contemn the gospel of 


Contempt of the gospel, says Philagathus, is evidenced in the 
great contempt of the age for the ministers of the gospel. " Every 
rascal dares scoff and scorn at the most grave and ancient fathers 
and pastors of the church/' and flout them in the streets or on the 
highway. These men to whom the Holy Ghost has given honored 
titles, such as God's secretaries, God's ambassadors, and angels, 
"these vile varlets and venomous vermin of the earth dare call 
proud prelates, pild parsons, pelting priests." 6 


Badman, while yet a lad, was greatly addicted to swearing and 
cursing. It came as natural to him as to eat, drink, and sleep. 
In fact, he esteemed this kind of sin a badge of honor. Mr. Wise- 
man is persuaded that many must share Mr. Badman's false no- 
tions about swearing, else they would not so frequently " belch out 
their blasphemous oaths as they do ; they take a pride in it ; they 
think that to swear is gentleman-like; and, having once accus- 
tomed themselves unto it, they hardly leave it all the days of their 

In the chapter on Swearing, the fifth sign of man's condemna- 
tion, Dent puts into the mouths of Theologus and Philagathus a 
somewhat similar comment upon the prevalence of this sin. " At 
this day," says Theologus, " there is no sin more common amongst 
us than swearing. For many there be which cannot speak ten 
words, but one shall be an oath." It is a vice, adds Philagathus, 
to which even the boys and the children in the streets are addicted. 
They rap out oaths as though they had " sucked them out of their 
mothers' breasts." It is a rare thing to. talk to a man " but he 
will belch out one oath or another." 

The enumeration by Theologus of the oaths most widely cur- 
rent in his day finds its counterpart in a similar enumeration by 
Mr. Wiseman. " There be six oaths," says Theologus, " which are 
(of all others) most rife and common, in every man's mouth; 
and they be these: by my faith by my troth by our Lady by 
St. Mary By God As God shall judge me." Mr. Wiseman, on 
the other hand, declares : " Some indeed, swear by idols, as by the 
mass, by our lady, by saints, beasts, birds, and other creatures ; 

Badman, after his marriage, would taunt and speak contemptuously 
of his wife's preachers. 


but the usual way of our profane ones in England is to swear by 
God, Christ, faith, and the like." Theologus, who condemns 
swearing by the mass, by the rood, by idols in fact, all forms of 
swearing is charged by Asunetus with being an anabaptist. " Not 
so," replies Theologus. " For though I condemn swearing by 
creatures, swearing by idols, and all other swearing, yet do I 
allow swearing before a magistrate, and privately also in matters 
of weight and importance, for the further bolting out of the truth. 
This is warranted from God's own mouth/' Mr. Wiseman like- 
wise approves of this form of oath: "To swear groundedly and 
necessarily, which then a man does when he swears as being called 
thereto of God, that is tolerated by the Word." 

In reply to the inquiry of Asunetus, " May we not swear by 
God in our common talk? " Theologus cites the case of the heathen 
who, " in common talk, will not allow any oath much less to swear 
by God." 

Mr. Wiseman, also, strives to magnify the heinousness of this 
sin by citing the case of the heathen who " have looked upon swear- 
ing to be a solemn ordinance of God, and therefore not to be lightly 
or vainly used by men, though to confirm a matter of truth." 


Another point of contact between the Pathway and The Life 
and Death of Mr. Badman is the strong opposition of both 
authors to the reading of bad books. One of the evil influ- 
ences in the life of young Badman was his love of vile books. He 
"would get all the bad and abominable books that he could, as 
beastly romances, and books full of ribaldry, even such as imme- 
diately tended to set all fleshly lusts on fire." As for good books, 
he would not deign to look into them ; " they might lie in his 
master's house till they rotted." 

Asunetus, the ignorant man of the Pathway, has at length been 
awakened by the dialogue to which he has listened to a conviction 
of sin. He begins to quake and tremble, and "feel great terror 
in his conscience lest he shall be damned." 

" Tush, tush," says Antilegon, the caviller, " now I see you are 
in a melancholy humor. If you will go home with me I can give 
you a speedy remedy, for I have many pleasant and merry books, 
which if you should hear them read, would soon remedy you of 


this melancholy passion. I have the Court of Venus, the Palace 
of Pleasure, Beuas of Southampton, Ellen of Rummin, the merry 
Jest of the Frier and the Boy, the pleasant story of Clem of the 
Clough, Adam Bell and William of Cloudesley, the odd tale of Wil- 
liam, Richard and Humfry, the pretty conceit of John Splinter's 
last Will and Testament ; which all are excellent and singular books 
against heartqualms, and to remove such dumpishness, as I see you 
are now fallen into." 

" And shall I tell you my opinion of them ? " interrupts Phila- 
gathus. " I do thus think, that they were devised by the devil, 
seen and allowed by the pope, printed in hell, bound up by hob- 
goblin, and first published and 'dispersed in Rome, Italy, and 
Spain ; and all to this end, that thereby men might be kept from 
the reading of the scriptures." 


Another sin to which Badman has become a slave is drunkenness. 
" First," says Mr. Wiseman, " he became a frequenter of taverns 
and tippling-houses, and would stay there until he was even as 
drunk as a beast." (Later on in the story Badman falls from his 
horse while drunk and breaks his leg) . " This was swinish," de- 
clares Mr. Attentive, "for drunkenness is so beastly a sin . . , 
that I wonder that any that have but the appearance of men can 
give up themselves to so beastly, yea, worse than beastly, a thing." 

This dialogue is strikingly similar to that which marks the be- 
ginning of the tenth chapter of the Pathway. " Now I pray you 
speak," says Philagathus, "your judgment of the Seventh sin of 
condemnation; which is drunkenness." Theologus: "It is so 
brutish and beastly a sin, that a man would think, it should not 
need to be spoken against ; but that all reasonable men should ever 
abhor it, and quake to think of it. For it is a most swinish thing." 

The pictures which each writer draws of the evils attendant upon 
drunkenness have much in common. Mr. Wiseman sums them up 
under four headings: (1) Poverty; (2) great and incurable dis- 
eases of the body; (3) Other evils Woe, sorrow, babbling, etc.; 
(4) Shortening of one's life. 

" But worse than all," remarks Mr. Attentive, " it also prepares 
men for everlasting burnings." 

Mr. Wiseman : " Yea, and it so stupefies and besots the soul that 
a man that is far gone in drunkenness is hardly ever recovered to 
God. . , . Such an one will sleep till he dies, though he sleeps on 
the top of a mast ; let his dangers be never so great, and death and 
damnation never so near, he will not be awakened out of his sleep." 


Compare now "the cursed fruits and events of drunkenness" 
enumerated by Theologus. They are : " Woe, alas ! Grief, misery, 
beggary, poverty, shame, lusts, strife/ babbling, brawling, fighting, 
quarrelling, surfeiting, sickness, diseases, swinish sleeping, secur- 
ity and sensuality." Theologus, as did Mr. Wiseman, cites Prov- 
erbs xxiii, 29 and 33. 


Besides being a drunkard and a thief, Badman " was a ring- 
leader to them all in the beastly sin of Whoredom." Mr. Attentive 
and Mr. Wiseman discuss at considerable length the sin of un- 
cleanness. Its prevalence and its ruinous effects are dwelt upon. 
Bunyan relates several stories growing out of his own observation 
as well as some he had read in Clark's Looking-Glass for Sinners 
illustrative of the evils that follow in the wake of this sin. The 
discussion in which Wiseman and Attentive engage has a few 
points in common with that of Philagathus and Theologus upon 
whoredom and adultery, the second sign of man's condemnation. 
Theologus having quoted a number of scriptural passages in con- 
demnation of the sin, Philagathus declares : " You have very well 
shewed, out of God's book, the great danger of whoredom and adul- 
tery. And it is greatly to be lamented, that men in this age make 
so light of it as they do, and that it is so common a vice." This 
observation tallies closely with that of Mr. Attentive that "This 
sin of uncleanness is mightily cried out against both by Moses, the 
prophets, Christ, and his apostles ; and yet, as we see, for all that, 
how men run headlong to it ! " In addition to emphasizing the 
eternal damnation awaiting him who is addicted to this sin, both 
Bunyan and Dent speak of the numerous ills that in this life befall 
the man guilty of it. "They (adulterers)," writes Dent, "wound 
themselves in their soul they wound themselves in their goods 
they wound themselves in their wives and children." The evils 
mentioned by Bunyan are: (1) This sin bringeth a man to pov- 
erty; (2) it is destructive to the body; (3) it is often the cause 
of vile diseases; (4) it is oftentimes attended with murder, par- 
ticularly the murder of the illegitimate child. 

We now come to a part of the life-history of Mr. Badman which 
seems to have no counterpart in Dent's little book. Badman tires 
of the good master to whom he has been apprenticed, and seeks 


out one equally as wicked as himself. This new arrangement 
lasts but a short while, however; for Badman's wickedness often 
causes -his master loss. His good old father sets him up in busi- 
ness, but he is no sooner "set up than he is almost as soon set 
down again." He gets so deeply in debt that he is hard put to it 
to keep out of prison. His wicked companions " egg him to the 
ale-house, but yet make him Jack-pay-for all. . . . He went now 
like a tired jade, the devil had rid him almost off of his legs." 
Acting upon the advice of his companions, Badman resolves to 
marry a rich wife. He finds a young woman who is wealthy, but 
who is also very godly. To win her Badman decides to play the 
hypocrite. He pretends to be greatly interested in religion and 
particularly in the saving of his own soul. She falls a victim to 
his wiles. He is no sooner married than "he hangs his religion 
upon the hedge. ... He also began now to go out a-nights to 
those drabs who were his familiars before, with whom he would 
stay sometimes till midnight, and sometimes till almost morning, 
and then would come home drunk as a swine." Of their seven 
children one followed in the footsteps of the mother, three were 
like their father, and the remainder became "a kind of mongrel 


After Mr. Badman "had swaggered and whored away most of 
his wife's fortune," he hit upon " another way to get money, and 
that by hatfuls and pocketf uls at a time." His plan was to feather 
his nest with other men's goods and money and then break. His 
creditors after many futile attempts to collect what was owing 
them were glad to compromise on five shillings in the pound. 

" And did he do thus indeed ? " inquired Mr. Attentive. 

"Yes, once and again," replies Mr. Wiseman. "I think he 
brake twice or thrice." 

Still another means Badman had of enriching himself was 
through the use of false weights and balances, and the practice of 
extortion extortion which consisted in taking advantage of his 
neighbors' necessities to force them to pay more than the goods 
were worth. It is extortion, says Mr. Wiseman, to charge the poor 
man who may happen to live at a great distance from the market 


an exorbitant price. Again hucksters who " buy up the poor man's 
victuals by wholesale and sell it to him again for unreasonable 
gains, by retail" are extortioners. Many of them, tho not all, 
thus "bite and pinch" the poor. They are indeed, nothing less 
than usurers. Mr. Wiseman and Mr. Attentive now engage in a 
spirited discussion of the principles of trading, in which Mr. Wise- 
man contends that it is unlawful for any man to sell as dearly as 
he can or to buy as cheaply as he can. 

The dialogue is not unlike that between Philagathus and Theo- 
logus on Oppression, the last sign of condemnation. Both Bunyan 
and Dent speak of those guilty of " biting and pinching " the poor, 
' griping and grinding the faces ' 7 of the poor, of those endeavoring 
" by hook or crook " to get all they can. 


Added to all Mr. Badman's wickedness was pride. " He counted 
himself," says Mr. Wiseman, " as wise as the wisest in the country, 
as good as the best, and as beautiful as he that had most of it." 
This sin of pride is very strongly denounced, and many passages 
of scripture cited to prove its heinousness. There are two sorts of 
pride, spiritual pride and bodily pride. The signs of a proud 
heart are also signs of bodily pride: "the putting on of gold and 
pearls, and costly array; the plaiting of the hair, the following of 
fashion, the seeking by gestures to imitate the proud, either by 
speech, looks, dresses, goings, or other fools' baubles." Mr. Wise- 
man is particularly severe in his denunciation of the "proud 
dames in England" who, although professors, wear garments as 
bewitching and tempting as what of old was called the attire of a 

" Why are they for going with their bull's fore- tops, 8 with their 
naked shoulders and paps hanging out like a cow's bag ? Why are 
they for painting their faces, for stretching out their neck, and for 
putting themselves unto all the formalities which proud fancy had 

* Of. Isaiah, m, 15 : " What mean ye that ye beat my people to pieces, 
and grind the faces of the poor? Saith the Lord God of Hosts." 

8 Cf . the speech of Asunetus : " What say you then to these doubled and 
redoubled ruffs, which are now in common use, strouting fardingales, 
long locks, fore tufts, shag hair, and all these new fashions which are 
devised and taken up every day." The Plain Man's Pathway, p. 37. 


them to? Is it because they would honor God? . . . No, no, it 
is rather to please their lusts, to satisfy their wild and extravagant 

Dent is equally vigorous in his denunciation of pride, which, he 
declares, "is a master-devil and the master-pock of the soul." 
After pointing out the folly of spiritual pride, he discusses " pride 
in apparel." 

" It was never good world," cries Asunetus, " since starching and 
stealing, busks and whalebones, supporters and rabatoes, full 
moons and hobby-horses, painting and dying, with selling of favour 
and complexion came to be in use. ... And what say you then 
to painting of faces, laying open of naked breasts, dying of hair, 
wearing of perriwigs, and other hair coronets and top gallants? 
And what say you to our artificial women which will be better than 
God hath made them? They like not his handy work, they will 
mend it, and have other complexion, other faces, other hair, other 
bones, other breasts, and other bellies than God made them." 

Both Bunyan and Dent reproach the ministers for failure to 
condemn this sin of pride in apparel, and both are particularly 
severe against the manifestation of pride on the part of women who 
are professors of religion. 

A few verbal resemblances are also noticeable. Bunyan speaks 
of the " proud dames in England," Dent of the " proud dames and 
mincing minions of Jerusalem " " Heart pride is discovered," 
says Bunyan, "by a stretched-out neck and by mincing as they 
go." The word mincing is, of course, taken by both writers from 
Isaiah m, 16 a passage which both cite. Mr. Badman would not 
admit that the " putting on of gold, and pearls, and costly array " 
was pride, but rather neatness, handsomeness, comeliness, cleanli- 
ness, etc." Theologus, when asked by Philagathus to ( set down 
his judgment for outward attire/ replies : " it must be as the 
apostle saith: comely, decent, handsome, neat, and seemly: not 
light, not wanton, not lascivious, not immodest, not offensive." 


Badman now suffers several mishaps. While drunk he falls from 
his horse and breaks his leg, and a few months later is seized with 
a dangerous sickness. To the great delight of his pious wife and 
her friends, he becomes penitent and makes a solemn vow that if 
God will let him recover from this illness he will in the future be a 


changed man. His prayer is answered, but with returning health 
all signs of a changed life vanish; he "betook him again to the 
world, his lusts, and wicked companions ; and there was an end of 
Mr. Badman's conversion/' This incident gives rise to a long 
discussion between Mr. Wiseman and Mr. Attentive on death-bed 
repentances, in which both agree that " sick-bed repentance is 
seldom good for anything/' 

In the Pathway Antilegon, who has declared that he hopes to 
repent if he is given time to do so before death, is warned by 
Theologus of the danger of delay. Repentance, he declares, " is no 
ordinary three hours' matter. . . . Cursory saying a few prayers 
before death availeth not. For, though true repentance be never 
too late, yet late repentance is seldom true/' 

Badman's return to his old way of life breaks his wife's heart. 
She soon falls into a languishing distemper, and in a few weeks 
dies. Badman is eventually trapped into marrying a woman as 
vile as himself. After some fourteen or sixteen years of a cat and 
dog life with this woman, Badman dies. But he dies "like a 
lamb, or, as they call it, like a chrisom-child, quietly and without 
fear." 9 Mr. Froude has expressed great admiration at the way in 
which the story ends. There is nothing he declares melodramatic 
about its close; the quiet death of Badman is a fine stroke of art. 
Every reader, I think, must admit the justness of Mr. Froude's 
observation. The idea, however, may possibly have been suggested 
to Bunyan by Dent. The Pathway closes with the conversion of 
Asunetus, but Antilegon, like Bunyan's Badman, remains impeni- 

A last note of resemblance is seen in the very close. Mr. Atten- 
tive reminds Mr. Wiseman that the sun is growing low, and he 
must take his leave. This is paralleled by Antilegon's remark: 
" The sun draweth low, Asunetus, it is time for you and me to be 
going/' " I also thank you," adds Mr. Attentive, " for your free- 
dom with me, in granting of me your reply to all my questions. 
I would only beg your prayers that God will give me grace, that I 
may neither live nor die as did Mr. Badman." In the Pathway 
Asunetus says to Theologus : " I can never be thankful enough for 

9 My colleague, Professor OR. A. Law, has suggested to me that the 
" chrisom-child-like " death of Badman may possibly be a reflection of 
Falstaff's manner of death. See Henry V, rr. 3. 


all the good instructions and comforts which I have heard from 
you this day ; I hope I shall remember some of them whilst I live." 

Sufficient evidence has been adduced, I think, to prove that the 
Pathway had left a lasting impression upon Bunyan's mind. His 
artistic sense taught him the value of the concrete. The abstract 
teaching of Dent's book is made powerful and effective only when 
linked with the life-story of an individual sinner. Dent discusses 
the evils of lying and drunkenness ; Bunyan draws a vivid picture 
of the liar and drunkard; And yet he failed to get entirely from 
under the weight of the abstract. The weakness of The Life and 
Death of Mr. Badman is found in the many long discussions of the 
sins to which Mr. Badman is addicted. So long as Bunyan sticks 
to the story proper, just so long does he hold the individual atten- 
tion of his reader; interest lags when he begins to preach. This 
same weakness is found in the Pilgrim's Progress, but not to the 
same degree as in the later story. 


The University of Texas. 


It is certainly true that the Maid of Orleans was not without her 
place in literature before Schiller, but it is equally true that the 
great dramatist was the first to approach her with that liberality 
of spirit which discards alike the prejudice of the sceptic, and the 
blind adoration of the fanatical partisan. One knows that Schiller 
spared no pains in his preliminary studies, that he read widely, and 
sought fully to appreciate everything within his reach, which could 
in any way contribute to a clear conception of the medieval mind, 
and to a proper understanding of the nature of medieval society; 
one knows that he trusted much to Hume and Rapin de Thoyras. 
Yet the Johanna of his play remains in the end essentially a child 
of his own heart. I shall endeavor in this paper to consider Schil- 
ler's heroine in relation to the historic Maid of Orleans. 2 

1 The historic character is referred to throughout as the Maid, and Schil- 
ler's character as Johanna. 

* This historic Maid of Orleans I have sought in the actual evidence con- 
cerning her as given by T. Douglas Murray in Jeanne cFArc: Being the 


From the Prolog of Die Jungfrau von Orleans one receives the 
impression that Johanna is, even in private life, a girl of unusual 
character. There is an obvious disparity between her and her sur- 
roundings. It is not surprising that Thibaut d'Arc feels anxiety 
about a daughter the workings of whose mind he is not capable of 
understanding; nor does it seem improper that Johanna takes no 
interest in the immediate concerns of the family. It is only fitting 
that a girl who walks abroad at unusual hours, is raised above the 
superstitious fears of her neighbors, and converses with the ' wind 
of the mountains/ should already have given proofs of her exceed- 
ing bravery. 


Denkt nach, wie sie den Tigerwolf bezwang, 
Das grimmig wilde Tier, das unsre Heerden 
Verwiistete, den Schrecken aller Hirten. 
Sie ganz allein, die lowenherz'ge Jungfrau, 
Stritt mit dem Wolf und rang das Lamm ihm ab, 
Das er im blut'gen Rachen schon davon trug. 

Prolog. Sc. 3. 

Surely, whether or not one sees in the story of the lamb and the 
wolf a symbol of the saving of France from the English, it is these 
characteristics of fearlessness and resource that lead one most nat- 
urally to appreciate the Johanna whose thoughts run on war and 
warlike things. It does not appear impossible that this " lowen- 
herz'ge Jungfrau " should consider that she is certain of success in 
a mission Which God Himself has imposed upon her, the destruc- 
tion of the foreign yoke in France. The girl who converses with 
the ( wind of the mountains ' may easily come to believe in miracles, 
and to hear the voice of God saying to her : 

" Geh hin ! Du sollst auf Erden f iir mich zeugen." 

Prolog. Sc. 4. 

To her the helmet which Bertrand brings is but an outward sign of 
the grace which she already feels upon her ; and her conviction that 
she will not return to her home proceeds not so much from fore- 

Story of Tier Life, her Achievements, and her Death, as attested on Oath 
and Set forth in the Original documents. Mr. Murray remarks in the 
preface that this is " the only known instance in which a complete bio- 
graphical record, of historical importance, has been elicited by evidence 
taken on oath." 


knowledge, as from a proper sense that a tool of the Lord cannot 
again be put to common use. Before the first scene of the tragedy 
opens, one can say truly with Raimond : 

Da scheint sie mir was Hoh'res zu bedeuten, 

Und dtinkt mir's oft, sie stamm' aus andern Zeiten. 

Prolog. Sc. 2. 

This Johanna of the Prolog corresponds but ill to the simple girl 
whom her fellow villagers knew. 3 It is true that this girl was 
fervently religious, and that her habit of kneeling down to pray in 
unaccustomed places at unaccustomed seasons had drawn attention 
upon her ; but there is no suggestion that these devotional exercises 
aroused in anyone about her a belief similar to that to which 
Raimond gives expression. And her own assertion that " I did not 
go to the fields with the sheep and the other animals " 4 leaves no 
grounds for pondering whether or not her physical courage would 
have induced her to face a wolf single-handed. One cannot, more- 
over, perceive in Schiller's heroine the industrious maiden who, on 
the evidence of the villagers, was so sympathetic to the poor; she 
seems to live too much in a world of her own to be conscious of the 
daily misfortunes of those about her. Much more human is the 
historic Maid who, if she did not hear God speaking c out of the 
branches of this tree/ not only heard but also saw the Archangel 
Michael, St. Margaret, and St. Catherine, and at times the Blessed 
Virgin, who instructed her how to act, at first in private and then 
in public affairs. One may remark, for example, her blunt state- 
ment "I saw them (St. Michael and the angels) with my bodily 
eyes, as well as I see you" (p. 29). And consider in general the 
tenor of her replies throughout the Trial. It should be noticed that 
the ( Voice ' or the ' Voices ' which she obeys do not reach her 
except through the mouths of definite persons, as is seen by the 
following evidence. " This Voice that speaks to you, is it that of 
an Angel, or of a Saint, or from God direct ? " " It is the Voice 
of Saint Catherine and of Saint Margaret. Their faces are adorned 
with beautiful crowns, very rich and precious " (p. 28). Johanna, 
on the other hand, has seen only the Blessed Virgin herself, on one 
special occasion, and under special circumstances. 

* Cf. the evidence in the Rehabilitation, Depositions at Domremy, p. 210 ft*. 
P. 17. 


Und einmals, als ich. eine lange Nacht 
In frommer Andacht unter diesem Baum 
Gesessen und dem Schlafe widers'tand, 
Da trat die Heilige zu mir, ein Scliwert 
Und Fahne tragend, aber sonst wie ich 
Als Schaferin gekleidet, und sie sprach zu mir: 
"Ich bin's. Steh auf, Johanna! 

Act I. Sc. 10. 

One feels that the humble Maid of the visions appeals more to the 
heart than the lofty virgin of Schiller's Prolog. Thus if the dra- 
matist has retained the historic piety of the Maid, he has given it a 
more remote, a less directly emotional character. Yet there remain 
two fundamental qualities which Johanna has in common with the 
Maid, the goodness and purity in which Raimond so wholeheartedly 

The matter of her projected marriage is one which leads us from 
the Maid of the village to the Maid of the court and the camp, for 
it is undoubtedly intimately connected with her belief in her mis- 
sion. Schiller's heroine has remained cold to the advances of 
Raimond for the space of three years, because, as has been seen, it 
was God's will that she should not know man's love ; but her con- 
duct is certainly displeasing to her father. 5 In general the dra- 
matist would appear to agree with the tenor of such facts as we 
possess, relative to a projected marriage. 6 In accordance, then, 
with the will of God, the preservation of her chastity is the bounden 
duty of Johanna throughout her public career. So much impor- 
tance, indeed, does Schiller place upon his heroine's virginity, that, 
whereas in the Prolog we are told of nothing save the voice of God, 
which speaks to her, we learn now that the Blessed Virgin, herself, 
had appeared to Johanna in a vision and warned her always to 
guard her chastity. 

Und sie versetzte : " Eine reine Jungf rau 
Vollbringt jedwedes Herrliche auf Erden, 
Wenn sie der ird'schen Liebe widersteht. 

Act I. Sc. 10. 

And again when the King desires to marry her to one of his nobles, 
she breaks into an impassioned speech, culminating in the lines : 

6 Thibaut: Du, meine Jiingste, machst mir Gram und Schmerz. 
Cf. p. 60. 


Der Manner Auge schon, das mich begehrt, 
1st mir ein Grauen und Entheiligung 

Act III. Sc. 4. 

When, therefore, she finds that despite her efforts her heart is 
attracted to Lionel, she is horrible in her own eyes ; there is nothing 
hyperbolical in her words to Agnes Sorel : 

Verlass mich ! Wende diet von mir ! Beflecke 
Dich nicht mit meiner pesterfiillten Nahe! 
Sei glticklich, geh! Mich lass in tiefster Nacht 
Mein Ungliick, meine Schande, mein Entsetzen 

Act IV. Sc. 2. 

It is the thought of the weakness of her flesh towards Lionel that 
drives her from the Cathedral ; it is the knowledge of this weakness, 
which destroys her sacred vow, which renders her unable to say 
ought in her own defence, when her father accuses her of complicity 
with the powers of darkness. Only by submitting without murmur 
to the divine retribution is she at last enabled to recover her peace 
of mind ; and all her former strength of purpose and force of char- 
acter returns, when she has looked Lionel in the face and said : 

Du Mst 

Der Feind mir, der verhasste, meines Volkes. 
Nichts kann gemein sein zwischen dir und mir. 
Nicht lieben kann ich dich. 

Act V. Sc. 9. 

From the evidence one would incline to say that Schiller had not 
in making the tragic guilt of Johanna lie in her passing passion 
for Lionel, introduced an inner meaning into the preservation of 
her chastity, but rather deepened a meaning it already possessed. 
For not only was the Maid found to be unspotted, but the perfect 
modesty of her behavior was not attacked save by the malice of 
her enemies ; nothing in the depositions gives the least grounds for 
criticizing her morals. While it is obvious that she was careful to 
guard against all imputations, and to keep men's minds, as far as 
possible, free from carnal thoughts, 7 yet there is one aspect of 
this matter in which the dramatist is at variance with historical 
fact. The Dunois of the play is from the first attracted by the 

7 Cf. the evidence of the Count Dunois, p. 234, of the Sieur de Gaucourt, 
p. 236, of Guillaume de Ricarville, p. 237-238, and of Simon Baucroix, p. 258. 


personality of Johanna, 8 and in Act III. Sc. 1, one discovers him 
in argument with La Hire as to which of them would make for her 
the more suitable husband. Even after the cloud has come over 
her, Dunois, if he makes no further profession of his love, shows 
that in the depths of his heart it is not dead. The English, who 
actually were not so explicit, regard Johanna as the paramour of 
Dunois. 9 But Dunois in his deposition refutes all suggestion of an 
amorous connection between himself and the Maid. Indeed, it 
would appear that not only his passions, but also those of all 
belonging to the Dauphin's party, were not aroused by the presence 
of the Maid. 10 Certainly there is no evidence to the contrary. But 
whereas the dramatist represents his heroine as beautiful, 11 one 
finds nothing touching her looks in .the depositions. 

Along with her physical beauty goes, in the play, her physical 
strength ; not only is this patent in Act V. Sc. 11, where the break- 
ing of the chains must be regarded in great part as symbolical of 
the wonderful power of her patriotism, but also in the struggle 
with Lionel. 12 This strength is tacitly accorded her by, the record 
of her endurance under exhausting, conditions, as may be found in 
the depositions of those who were about her during the months of 
warfare. 13 While the fact that she was able to sustain herself on 

Cf. Act I. Sc. 10. Dunois: 

Nicht ihren Wundern, ihrem Auge glaub' ich, 
Der reinen Unschuld ihres Angesichts. 

Cf. Act II. Sc. 3. 

10 Cf. the evidence as cited in note 7. 
"Cf. Act I. Sc. 9. Raoul: 

Denn aus der Tiefe des Geholzes plotzlich 
Trat eine Jungfrau, mit behelmtem Haupt 
Wie eine Kriegesgottin, schon zugleich 
Und echrecklich anzusehen, 

Act II. Sc. 7. Montgomery: 

Furchtbar ist deine Rede, doch dein Bliek ist sanft, 
Nicht schrecklich bist du in der Na-he anzuschauen; 
Es zieht das Herz mich zu der lieblichen Gestalt. 

Act III. Sc. 10. Lionel: 

Mich jammert deine Jugend, deine Schonheit! 

* Cf. Act III. Sc. 10. 

11 Cf . Evidence in the Rehabilitation, passim. 


very moderate allowances of bread dipped in wine 14 argues that 
she must have had a considerable fund of strength upon which 
to draw, Schiller's 'heroine makes use of her strength in her 
encounters with the enemy/ 5 and in these encounters she shows 
no mercy. 


Betrogner Thor ! Yerlorner ! In der Jungfrau Hand 
Bist du gefallen, die verderbliche, woraus 
Nicht Rettung noch Erlosung mehr zu hoffen 1st. 
Wenn dich das Ungltick in des Krokodils Gewalt 
Gegeben oder des gefleckten Tigers Klaun, 
Wenn du der Lowenmutter junge Brut geraubt, 
Du konntest Mitleid finden und Barmherzigkeit, 
Doch todtlich ist's, der Jungfrau zu begegnen. 

Act II. Sc. 7. 

The sacred duty of retribution, which at times assumes the form 
of revenge/ 6 has rendered her deaf to all appeals to her humanity. 


Nicht mein Geschlecht beschwore! Nenne mich nicht Weib! 
Gleichwie die korperlosen Geister, die nicht f rein 
Auf ird'sche Weise, schliess' ich mich an kein Geschlecht 
Der Menschen an, und dieser Panzer deckt kein Herz. 

Act II. Sc. 7. 

Through the help of the Blessed Virgin she has crushed the natural 
tenderness of her heart, 17 until she is most at home in the press of 


Dass der Sturm der Schlacht mich fasste, 
Speere sausend mich umtdnten 
; In des heissen Streites Wuth! 
Wieder f and' ich meinen Muth ! 

Act IV. Sc. 1. 

14 Cf. Deposition of Dunois, p. 231. 

16 Of. besides accounts of her prowess in the mouths of others the fight 
with Montgomery, Act II. Sc. 7. 
a Cf. Act II. Sc. 7. Johanna: 

Der Tag 

Der Rache ist gekommen ; nicht lebendig mehr 
Zuriicke messen werdet ihr das heiFge Meer 

" Johanna's monologue, Act II. Sc. 8. 


In this Schiller is at variance with the evidence as a whole. The 
witnesses in the Rehabilitation are unanimous with regard to the 
Maid's lack of blood-thirstiness : indeed, according to them her first 
thought was always to avoid fighting, if possible. One may take 
as an example the evidence of Simon Baucroix (p. 258) : "When 
Jeanne saw them in flight and the French following after, she said 
to the French : ' Let the English go, and slay them not ; it is 
enough for me that they have retreated/ " 18 The Maid evidently 
never fully overcame an innate distaste for weapons and their 
employment. Most explicit are the words of de Seguin (p. 291) : 
" I remember Jeanne was asked why she always marched with a 
banner in her hand ? ' Because/ she answered, ' I do not wish to 
use my sword, nor to kill anyone/ ''' 

The question of the Maid's liking for arms and fighting leads 
naturally to that of her qualities as a leader of men. The dra- 
matist hardly makes of her a great captain ; she is rather the fear- 
less warrior whom no thought of personal danger restrains, and who 
seeks to fire those about her to emulate her prowess. Yet from the 
evidence one must regard her activity in arms also in a very differ- 
ent light. Count Dunois, himself in the forefront of the captains 
of that time, comments on her astonishing skill in handling men, 
and in executing manoeuvres. 19 Another captain, the Duke 
d'Alengon, also speaks in terms of high admiration. 20 And there 
is further support in the deposition of the knight, Thibauld 
d'Armagnac. 21 

The entire play and the whole of the evidence agree on the point 
of the Maid's intense religious enthusiasm, and her belief in the 
actuality of divine interference in the affairs of men. To quote 
here would be superfluous. Yet in the attitude of the historical 
character towards the Church one finds something that is not even 
hinted at in Schiller's heroine. The Maid claims that, being 
immediately in the grace of God, she need not implicitly obey the 
Church. 22 Indeed, she expressly opposes the Church Militant to 

M When the English were withdrawing f rom before Orleans. 

11 Cf . p. 233. *> Cf . p. 268. Cf. p. 279. 

** Thus one reads on p. 23 : " The Voice that you say appears to you, does 
it come directly from an angel, or directly from God; or does it come from 
one of the saints?" "The Voice comes to me from God; and I do not tell 
you all I know about it: I have far greater fear of doing wrong in saying 
to you things that would displease it, than I have of answering you." 


the Church Triumphant, and asserts her obedience to be to the 
latter. 23 The Johanna of the play, however, would appear not to 
question the majesty or authority of the Church Militant, despite 
the divine origin of her mission. 24 Yet she does not act thus 
through any wish to strengthen her faith in herself, for she is as 
assured as the Maid of history of continual heavenly succor and 
protection by which she is enabled to perform things impossible 
to other mortals. Indeed, this faith in herself sometimes appears 
to go beyond that of the Maid who says "Without the grace of 
God I should not know how to do anything" (p. 24). 

Endowed with this grace, the Maid cannot rest until she has 
led to his coronation the Dauphin, the Lieutenant of the ' King of 
Heaven' in the Kingdom of France. In her letter to the King 
of England she writes : " And do not think to yourselves that you 
will get possession of the realm of France from God the King of 
Heaven, Son of the Blessed Mary; for King Charles will gain it, 
the true heir : and God, the King of Heaven, so wills it, and it is 
revealed to him (the King) by the Maid, and he will enter Paris 
with a good company." 25 To this end strives also the Johanna of 
the play : so the Blessed Mary charges her : 

Und fiihre deines Herren Sohn nach Rheims, . 
Und kron' ihn mit der kb'niglichen Krone ! 

Act I. Sc. 10. 

But she has another aim, the utter destruction of the enemy. It 
has been seen already that the spirit of revenge lives in her ; 26 she 
goes beyond this, however, in claiming a divine command to kill 
without compunction. 27 As the Maid, on the other hand, slew no 
man, and at all times attempted where possible to avoid slaughter 
on the part of others, 28 she cannot have held annihilation of the 
enemy to have been part of her mission. There remains another 
marked difference between the Maid and Johanna. The Maid was 
essentially a royalist and that by reason of her conviction that the 

23 Cf . p. 79. 

**Cf. Act I. Sc. 10; where she seeks the Archbishop's blessing. 

* Pp. 39-40 ; and cf . the evidence of Brother Jean Pasquerel, pp. 269-270. 
*Cf. note 16. 

27 Dieses Schwert umgtirte dir! 

1 )amit vertilge meines Volkes Feinde. 

Act I. Sc. 10. 

* Cf. evidence of de Seguin, as given above. 


kingship was a divine institution; but one cannot see in her the 
patriot, as she breathes in Johanna. 29 By the France of which she 
speaks she seems to understand nothing but the rightful dominions 
of the Dauphin, as granted him by his heavenly overlord. One 
may well contrast the words of the Maid to the Constable of 
France : " Ah ! fair Constable, you have not come by my will, but 
now you are here you are welcome," 30 with Johanna's endeavors, 
based on an appeal to patriotism, to win over the Duke of Bur- 
gundy. 31 Schiller has given us a heroine who is what the Maid 
could hardly have been in the France of her time, the embodiment 
of patriotism. Through her he puts to all men this question : 

Was 1st unschuldig, heilig, menschlich gut, 
Wenn es der Kampf nicht 1st urns Vaterland? 

Act II. Sc. 10. 


University College, Dundee. 


Of the early career of the author of The Antipodes and A Jovial, 
Crew comparatively little is known. Andrews, whose study 1 of 
Brome is the most complete that has yet appeared, thinks the 
playwright was born about 1590. But few facts have come down 
to us concerning Brome's activities between that date and 1635, 
when, according to the contract discovered by Professor Wallace, 2 
he agreed to deliver to the King's Revels Company at the Salisbury 
Court and to this company only three plays annually for a 
period of three years, at a salary of 15s. weekly, and with the 
understanding that he should not print any of his plays without 
the consent of the company. All that has hitherto been known 
concerning Brome's history before 1635 has been inferred from 

"Despite Mr. Murray's assertions in his Introduction, p. vi and p. xvii- 

*Cf. deposition of the Duke d'Alenc/m, p. 267. 

Act II. Sc. 10. 

4 C. E. Andrews, Richard Brome, A Study of His Life and Works, Yale 
Studies in English, XLVI, 1913. 

* See his " Shakspere and the Blackf riars," Century Magazine, Sept., 
1910, and Andrews, p. 13. 


the commendatory verses prefixed to his plays, from references or 
allusions in the plays themselves, or from his relations with Ben 
Jonson. The latter's striking reference to "his man, Master 
Brome, behind the arras," in the Induction to Bartholomew Fair 
(1614), and his prefatory verses to Brome's Northern Lass 
(printed 1632) : 

I had you for a servant once, Dick Brome, 

And you performed a servant's faithful parts . . . 

have been interpreted in various ways. Some have thought that 
Brome was simply Ben's menial servant, and account for the 
coarseness in his dramas by the assumption that he " describes 
life from the groom's point of view." 3 Professor Baker, 4 on the 
other hand, concludes that he acted as a sort of amanuensis to 
Jonson, while Fleay 8 speaks of him simply as Ben's " apprentice/' 
without saying anything as to the nature of the apprenticeship. 
Andrews, 6 finally, thinks that " Brome probably began his rela- 
tions with Jonson as a witty young serving-man who interested 
his master to such an extent that he undertook his education, as 
he had already that of the young Nathaniel Field." The reference 
to Field is significant here, since a strangely neglected bit of 
evidence would seem to indicate that Brome, like Field, was an 
actor before he became a playwright, and that, like Field, he may 
have been indebted to Jonson in both capacities. 

This evidence appears in the form of a royal warrant under 
date of June 30, 1628, reprinted without comment by Mrs. Stopes 
in the Shakespeare JaTirbuch for 1910. 7 The warrant is one of a 
miscellaneous list of orders for payment of court performances, 
allowances for actors' liveries, and the like. It reads as follows : 

" Warrant to swear the Queen of Bohemia's players 8 
groomes of his Majesties chamber without fee, 
viz. Joseph Moore, Alexander Foster, Robert Gylman 
Richard Brome, John Lillie, William Rogers, 

' Compare Cambridge History of English Literature, vr, 225. 

4 See Gayley's Representative English Comedies, m, 417. 

5 See note 11. 
P. 4. 

T See C. C. Stopes, " Shakespeare's Fellows and Followers," Shakespeare 
Jahrbuch, XLVI, 94; printed from Warrant Book V, 93, 1628-1634, p. 26. 
8 The Lady Elizabeth's Men. 


George Lillie, Abel Swinnerton, George Gibbes, 
Oliver Howes ; June 30, 1628." 9 

The chances are strongly in favor of the conclusion that the 
Eichard Brome thus mentioned as an actor of some prominence 10 
in the Lady Elizabeth's Company in 1628, was the playwright. 
If so, Fleay's conjecture X1 that Brome's " apprenticeship " to 
Jonson extended over the seven years 1623 to 1629, will have to be 
modified; incidentally some new light may be thrown upon the 
nature of that apprenticeship. " Bengemen Johnson, player," 
borrowed money from Henslowe in 1597 and 1598, and he may 
have had a share in the Admiral's Men for a time. 12 I see no 
reason, then, why at some later date Ben Jonson, actor-playwright, 
might not have taken on a theatrical apprentice, who would per- 
haps serve him as amanuensis, but also get a chance to act. 
Augustine Phillips, Shakspere's colleague in the King's Men, had 
just such an apprentice. In his will 13 Phillips left 30s. to " my 
servaunte Christopher Beeston," who later become an actor-sharer 
and business manager of the Cockpit company. John Heminges, 
business manager of Shakspere's company, also had his theatrical 
apprentice, Alexander Cooke, 14 who later became an actor-sharer 
in his "master's" company. Similarly, Brome may have been 
"made free o' th' Trade" of acting (as well as of play writing) 
by Jonson. The apprentices of Jones and Downton ("Jones' 
boy" and "Downton's boy") of the Admiral's Men are known 

"Murray (Elizabethan Dramatic Companies, i, 259) did not know of the 
existence of this warrant. In his sketch of the history of the Lady Eliza- 
beth's Men between 1625 and June, 1629, he gives but one partial list of 
actors. This list (based on an incomplete document recorded in the 
Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1628-9) is dated December 9, 1628, 
and names but four actors: "Joseph Moore, Alexander Foster, Robert 
Gylman, Joseph Townsend, with the rest of their company." 

10 Only the more prominent actors, not the " hirelings," are listed among 
those who received royal liveries or other court grants. The Richard 
Brome here mentioned must have been an actor -sharer. 

** Drama, i, 37; compare Camb. Hist, of Eng. Lit., vi, 224. 

!"See Henslowe 1 's Diary, ed. Greg, i, 47, 200; n, 289. Jonson's acting 
at Paris Garden is referred to in Dekker's Satiromastiae. 

"See J. P. Collier's Actors, p. xxxi. 

14 "I do intreate my Master Heminges" (he writes in his will) to look 
out for the interests of his orphans. See Malone-Boswell, Shakspeare, m, 


to have acted in the plays of that company given in 1599 and 
1699. 15 And so I think it not unlikely that Jonson put " his man, 
Master Brome, behind the arras " in Bartholomew Fair because 
Master Brome was acting a small part in that play. It would 
have been a good-natured bit of advertising for the young actor, 
in keeping with the mention, later in the play, of Field, "your 
best actor," who played a part in the piece. 18 Perhaps Jonson, 
when he recalled how Brome had " performed a servant's faithful 
parts" had in mind the acting as well as the other services of his 
former apprentice. 

When Bartholomew Fair was produced in 1614 Brome must 
have been somewhere between twenty and twenty-five years old; 
it was the time when he was undergoing his training for his later 
activities as an actor-sharer and playwright. In 1623 he col- 
laborated in a play which is not extant; in 1629 his first inde- 
pendently written play was produced. It is impossible to say 
whether Brome continued long as an actor after 1628, but I think 
the evidence to which I have called attention indicates that he was 
one of " the quality " before that date. " I love the quality of 
playing," says Letoy in The Antipodes; 1T and I believe he is 
voicing Brome's sentiments towards his old profession. Indeed 
this play and many others of Brome are full of allusions which 
support the conclusion that Brome, like Shakspere, Jonson, Hey- 
wood, Rowley, Field, Armin, and a host of other Elizabethan play- 
wrights, passed his apprenticeship upon the stage, and that it was 
in this sense that Jonson called him his " servant." 


University of California. 

"Henslowe Papers, ed. Greg, p. 154. 

w See Bartholomew Fair, Act V, Sc. 3, and Fleay, Drama, r, 172. Simi- 
lar bits of advertising of the actors appear in many Elizabethan plays. 
See, for example, the Induction to The Malcontent, and Greene's Tu Quoque. 

" See Act I, Scenes 5 and 6 ; Act II, Scenes 1 and 2, etc. 

A search for the source of a play by so minor an author as de 
Sallebray may seem, at first sight, a superfluous nicety of little 
intrinsic value, but literary history abounds in unexpected twists 
and turns of influences, and, in this case, the source of de Salle- 
bray's Amante ennemie is of greater moment than the play itself. 
Besides, de Sallebray's work is not so entirely devoid of historical 
value as his ephemeral appearance in French letters has led pos- 
terity to believe. He worked but a few years for the stage. His 
four extant plays were all published from 1639 to 1642, and, from 
this last date on, no verse of his has been recorded. His first pub- 
lished play was called Le Jugement de Paris et le Ravissement 
d'Helene, tragi-comedie, 1639. It was followed by La Troade, 
tragedie, 1640; by La belle Egyptienne? tragi-comedie, 1642; and 
by U Amante ennemie) tragi-comedie, 1642. Unpublished works 
attributed to him are: L'Enfer divertissant, comedie; 2 Andro- 
maque, tragedie; and Le mariage mal-assorti, which has also been 
ascribed to Sainville. 3 His literary activity seems to have been 
confined almost entirely to the stage. The Recueils of the time 
contain only one poem which may possibly be attributed to him; * 
and he seems even to have been unusually chary with the compli- 
mentary verses to literary friends with which his fellow-poets were 
so lavish. Lachevre mentions only one poem of this kind by de 
Sallebray. It is published with La belle Quixaire of Gillet de la 
Tessonnerie (1639). 5 

His tragi-comedy U 'Amante ennemie* with which the present 

1 Based on Cervantes' novel La Gitanilla. 

* According to La Valliere's Bibliothdque du Theatre fr., m, 13, this play 
was printed. 

* Sainville, about whose life as little is known as about de Sallebray's, 
is the author of four unpublished plays. For de Sallebray's plays, see de 
Beauchamps, Recherches; rr, 166; Maupoint, Biblioth. des th6&t., p. 17; 
La Valliere, Bibliotheque, m, 13; de Lexis, Diet, portatif des Th^dt., p. 
325; La Porte and Chamfort, Diet, dram., m, 605; etc. 

* Signed, L. Sallebray. 

5 Lachevre, Fr., Bibliogr. des Reciteils collectifs, rr, 464 and rv, 185. 
Privilege of April 8, 1642. 



article is concerned, is an adaptation to the stage of a French novel, 
La Hayne et I' Amour d'Arnoul et de Clairemonde by P. B. S. D. P. 
(P. B. sieur du Perier), -which appeared almost half a century pre- 
viously, in 1600. 7 The novels of this little-known author are 
remarkable from an historical, if not from a literary point of view. 
Professor G. Chinard has pointed out that another book of his, 
Les amours de Pistion et de Fortunie en leur voyage de Canada* 
is the first exotic novel in French. His La Hayne et r Amour 
d'Arnoul et de Clairemonde is the earliest example known of 
the influence of the Spanish Cid-tradition in France, for, though 
this novel claims to narrate a story taken from the life of the times 
and the third edition has for its sub-title Histoire proven$ale 
arrivee de nostre temps (1627), this pretense must not blind us to 
the fact that du Perier has woven into the frame of his " contem- 
porary " story some elements of Spanish tradition and legend. It 
was quite a common practice with the authors of the time to intro- 
duce into their " stories from daily life " the customary thrilling 
situations from the romances of chivalry, the sentimental discourse 
from the pastoral novels, miracles of witchcraft and metamor- 
phosis, without renouncing their claim that their novels were 
" veritables " and " de nostre temps." 9 

La Hayne et I' Amour d'Arnoul et de Clairemonde begins with 
the description of a feud of long standing which had made two 
fathers, the sieurs du Rosier and de Precourt, mortal enemies. 
The sieur du Rosier has a brave son, Arnoul, " lequel ne promettoit 
pas de vouloir un jour rien devoir a la vertu de son pere." De 
Precourt has a beautiful daughter, Clairemonde. A disastrous duel 

* See Gustave Keynier, Le roman sentimental avant VAstree, (Biblio- 
graphy.) The author's full name i given on the title-page of the third 
edition, La, Hayne et I'Amour d'Arnoul et de Clairemonde. Histoire pro- 
venyale arrivee de nostre temps. Par le sieur du Perier, Paris, Jean Cor- 
rozet, 1627. 

8 Gamier acclaimed Antoine du Pe"rier as the discoverer of Canada. For 
further details and for a discussion of the date of Les Amours de Pistion 
et de Fortunie, eee G. Chinard, L'Amerique et le rve exotique dans la 
litt. fr., pp. 60-62. 

"Magicians, wonderful shipwrecks, glorious fights of the hero against 
overpowering odds, or even satyrs, appear in stories claiming to be "en- 
tirely true." Cf. Les Bergeries de Vesper of Guillaume Coste (1618); 
L'Erocaligenesie ou la naissanoe d'un bel amour (1602), etc.; cf. G. Rey- 
nier, Le roman sentimental avant VAstree. 


results in the death of de Precourt, slain by du Hosier with the 
help of his son Arnoul. Two more deaths follow: du Eosier dies 
later from his wounds and the wife of du Precourt from grief, so 
that only the children are left to carry on the family vendetta. 
Clairemonde vows to take revenge for her father upon Arnould du 
Rosier, " qu'elle tenoit F un des homicides de son pere, destinant 
sa vie a ceste seule action pour mourir plus contente apres." Like 
Ximena she proclaims that her hand is promised to any knight who 
shall vanquish Arnoul. Three of her suitors challenge him, but 
are killed. At last, Clairemonde resolves to take the " duty " of 
vengeance in her own hands. She and her servant Allonne, dis- 
guised as lute-players, present themselves at ArnouPs castle, under 
the assumed names of Herman (Clairemonde) and Fourbin 
(Allonne). They are well received, and almost instantly Claire- 
monde falls in love with Arnoul. She finds herself now in the 
same position as Ximena in the Mocedades del Cid and as Chimene 
in Corneille's Cid: she has to struggle with the same moral prob- 
lem, to solve the same conflict between love and honor. Du Perier 
devotes more than a hundred pages to the description of the crisis 
of antithetical impulses in Clairemonde, who resembles a first 
sketch of Corneille's Chimene. Scenes and situations are found in 
La Hayne et I'Amour d' Arnoul et de Clairemonde which are 
duplicated in both the Mocedades del Cid and in Corneille's Cid. 
The most striking similitude is the well-known scene wherein Don 
Eodrigue offers Chimene his dagger or his sword, and implores her 
to kill him. Chimene refuses her lover's demand and argues that 
she is his accuser, not his judge : 

Las Mocedades (verses 1177-1181) : 

Justo fuera sin ayrte 

que la muerte hiziera darte ; 

mas soy parte 

para solo perseguirte, 

pero ne para matarte. 

Corneille's Cid: Va, Je suis ta partie, et non pas ton bourreau. 

Du Perier (p. 192) : "II n'est pas raisonable, Arnoul, que vous 
fassiez office de juge et de partie, que 
vous accusiez et condamniez tout ensem- 
ble," etc. 


I am, however, not here occupied with the relation of du Perier's 
novel to its probable Spanish source, nor with its relation to both 
the Mocedades del Cid and Corneille's Cid. In a later study I 
shall endeavor to throw light on this subject. For the present 
purpose it is sufficient to point out that du Perier's novel is the 
earliest example known of the influence of the Cid literature in 
France ; that it antedates the Mocedades del Cid by about fourteen 
years, 10 and yet contains scenes which are found in this play and 
which passed from there into Corneille's masterpiece ; and, finally, 
that the similarities which are found between de Sallebray's 
Amante ennemie, the Mocedades del Cid,. and Corneille's Cid are 
not due to direct imitation of either the Spanish or the French 
play, but to the influence of du Perier's novel, which de Sallebray 
has followed very closely. He has merely changed the names of the 
characters: Arnoul is called Tersandre, Clairemonde is rebaptized 
as Claironde, etc. The most important changes consist in the 
introduction of a confidant for Tersandre (Arnoul), and of a 
domestic of Claironde's (Clairemonde's) uncle, who recognizes her 
in man's attire and thus allows de Sallebray to end his play with 
a traditional coup de theatre. 

University of Minnesota. GuST ' L " VAN ROOSBROECK. 


For now at erste shul ye here 

So selly an avisioun, 

That Isaye, ne Scipioun, 

Ne king Nabugodonosor, 

Pharo, Turnus, ne Eleanor, 

Ne mette swich a dreem as this! (House of Fame, H, 512-7) 

Pharo we know, and Turnus we know, but who is Eleanor ? * 
He and his dream have long been one of the standing Chaucer 

10 Cf. H&mel. Der Cid im Spanischen Drama, p. 7. The first edition 
(1618) was disavowed by de Castro in the Preface of the 1621 edition 
of his early plays. 

1 See Skeat, Oxford Chaucer, in, 253. For Turnus Dr. Skeat refers to 
the visit of Iris, Aen. ix, 1 if. But " Turnus sacrata valle sedebat " ; this 
is less like a vision than the visit of the Fury Allecto, vn, 413 ff. 

Tectis hie Turnus in altis 
iam mediam nigra carpebet nocte quietem. (413-4) 


cruxes. Dr. Skeat gave it up. Dr. Bright suggested Hamilcar, 
whose veridical dream of the fall of Syracuse is mentioned by Vale- 
rius Maximus, Facta et Dicta Memorabilia, i, vii. 8. 2 Dr. Heath, 
in the Globe Chaucer, suggested Elcana, Samuel's father, who has 
no dream. 3 

The explanation is probably to be found in the Old French Cassi- 
dorus. This thirteenth century prose romance, which has never 
been printed, 4 is the third and longest of the continuations or 
imitations 6 of the prose redaction of the Sept Sages de Rome. 
Cassidorus, the hero of the romance, in the course of his adven- 
tures falls in love with Helcana, daughter of a Syrian king Edipus. 
Forced at one time to flee, and to live in man's costume, she calls 

After the Fury has spoken, 

Olli somnum ingens rumpit pavor, ossaque et artus 
perf undit toto proruptus corpore sudor ( 458-9 ) . 

The reference to Isaiah seems rather to vr. 1 ff. than to i, 1. 
'Mod, Lang. Notes, IX, 241. 

3 Elkanah (7. Samuel i), the father of Samuel, might have been confused 
in memory with Manoah, the father of Samson (Judges, xm, 3, 11) and 
Zacharias, the father of John the Baptist (St. Luke, I, 11), to both of 
whom angels announced the prophets' births. But the name does not 
exactly fit, and the suggestion is no more than plausible. 

There are also such visionless personages as Alcanor, Aeneid, ix, 672; 
x, 338 (mentioned by Skeat) ; Acanor, Prose Merlin (S. A. T. F., 1886, 
i, 209); Elpenor, Odyssey, x, 552; xi, 51ff.;xri, 10; Elpinor, King of 
Libanor (Roman de Troie, 12327 and later; Elephenor in Dares and 
Dictys) ; Escanor (and Canor) in the 13th century romance so named 
written by 'Girard d'Amiens ( ed. by Michelant for the Stuttgart Litt. Verein 
(Bibliothek, vol. CLXXVIH), and summarized by G. Paris in Hist. Litt. de 
la France, xxxi, 153 ff.). 

4 The name appears in various forms. There is a late thirteenth century 
manuscript in the JBibliotheque Rationale, frangais 22548, 172roff. ; the 
work extends into MS. frang. 22549. In the former the romance is pre- 
ceded by the ept Sages and Marques de Rome. There was also a 14th 
century manuscript (codex xxxix. g. n. 17) in the Biblioteca Nazionale 
in Turin; see Pasini, Codices MSS. Biblioth. taurinensis (Turin, 1749), n, 
474, who calls the work Le Romant de Kallidorum. On fol. 76vo are the 
words " Li Istoire d'Elkanum & de Peliarmenum son frere qui desireter le 
voloit," and at the end " Ci fine li Roumans de Kallidorum d'Elkanum & 
de Peliarmenum." Unhappily the manuscript was damaged past use in 
the fire of 1904. 

* These are Marques de Rome, Fiseus ( or Laurin ) , Cassidorus, Peliarme- 
nus, Kanor. 


herself Helcanor or Helkanor. 6 This Helcana-Helcanor appears 
in a dream to Cassidorus on his return to Constantinople (folio 
186 VO ). As he is about to leave the city to rejoin her, one of the 
princes of the city stops him and tells a tale to show that he should 
not marry; this happens twelve times, and twelve times Helcana- 
Helcanor appears to him in a dream and tells a tale to show that 
he should. 7 Obviously there is a hitch in this identification of 
Chaucer's allusion in the fact that Helcana-Helcanor is not the 
dreamer, as Chaucer implies, but the dreamed-of. However, the 
identity of the name and the astonishing character of the dreams 
make the identification acceptable. The lady's change of name 
probably accounts for Chaucer's error ; he thought of Elcana as the 
dreamed-of, and Eleanor as the dreamer. It is a fair conjecture 
that he erred through unfamiliarity with the Cassidorus, had read 
it but once some little time before; wherein he probably showed 
his usual good taste, for the Cassidorus seems to strike readers as 
a trifle absurd. Chaucer meant an anticlimax, which agrees with 
the light tone of the House of Fame, in ending with Eleanor after 
the celebrated and impressive visions in the Bible, Cicero and 
Virgil. He never took popular and prose romances seriously. 8 


Stanford University. 

"Elkanor" in the Turin MS. folio 31ro; see Godefroi, Dictionnaire, 
II, 656. Chaucer's form is " Eleanor " in the Fairfax, Bodley and Pepys 
MSS. and Caxton's edition ; " Alcanore " in Thynne. Helcana and Cassi- 
dorus have a son named Helcanus. One Kanor, a follower of Cassidorus, 
figures in one or more of the later continuations, the last of which is called 
" Kanor." A few particulars about Cassidorus and other continuations 
of the Sept Sages may be found in Alton's edition of the Marques de Rome 
(Stuttgart litt. Verein, CLXXXvn, pp. v-vii, xiii), reviewed in Romania, 
xrx, 493; Grober's Grundriss der rom. Philologie (1902), 11, i, 995; Sept 
Sages, ed. by G. Paris, S. A. T. F. 1876, p. xxiv; Paris' La Litttrature 
francaise au Moyen Age (2nd edit.), 109. I am more than commonly 
obliged to the well-known scholar, M. G. Huet, of the Bibliotheque Natio- 
nale, for giving me further particulars. 

'First time, MS. 22548, folio ISSro; last time, MS. 22549, folio 2vo. 

"Sir Thopas, 2087 ff.; N. P. T., 4401-3; Bq. T., 287. 


Esquisse d'une histoire de la tragedie frangaise. By GUSTAVE 
LANSON. New Yiork: Columbia University Press, 1920. 
xii -j- 155 pp. 

When M. Lanson lectured on French tragedy at Columbia Uni- 
versity in 1916-1917, a syllabus of the course was printed and dis- 
tributed among his students and a few other scholars. President 
Butler and Professor Todd, assisted by Professors Gerig, Babcock, 
and Atkinson, have now published this syllabus, enlarged by intro- 
ductory statements, a frontispiece, and slight changes of the text. 1 
It has been made more serviceable by a table des matieres, the 
numbering of the pages, and certain typographical alterations. 
One misses an index of titles and authors' names, though this 
omission is less serious than it would be if the chronological order 
of presentation were less strictly followed. A special bibliography 
is rendered superfluous by the fact that the author makes frequent 
reference to his Manuel bibliographique, underscores the most 
important works there mentioned, and adds in many cases the 
titles of more recent publications. As the syllabus form is retained, 
the reader, to profit by the work, must already have considerable 
acquaintance with the subject and with scholarly method. It is 
consequently not for undergraduates or for the general public. 
To say this is to repeat what the author and his American editors 
know very well. When I asked M. Lanson three years ago whether 
he would make these lectures into a book, he replied, " Quand 
aurai-je le temps?" Fortunately, instead of keeping us waiting 
for such leisure, he has allowed the publication of these notes, for 
in so doing, and in spite of its frequently tantalizing brevity of 
statement, he has given to special students the best treatise that 
has appeared for many years on the history of the French stage. 
The author's unique mastery of the bibliography of his subject, to 
which he has himself extensively contributed, his remarkable power 
in weighing evidence, explaining literary phenomena, and appre- 
ciating aesthetic values are here placed at the student's service. 

1 Especially on pp. 7, 8, 60, 86, 90. 


The notes are closely packed with thought, always suggestive when 
too brief to be explicit. Even when there is nothing new to the 
reader in the facts and ideas expressed, it is valuable for him to 
know the relative importance that M. Lanson assigns to them, the 
manner in which he groups them to explain the evolution of the 
type. No real student of the French stage can do without the 

The author does not make the mistake of defining his genre and 
thus running the risk of excluding some of its most important 
members. Instead, he traces its history from the middle-ages to 
the present day, showing the elements considered essential at this 
time or that. He does, however, define and make special study of 
the tragic element, which he explains as follows : 

Le patjititique nait de la souffrance et de la plainte; le dramatique 
re"sulte du conflit, de 1'incertitude, de 1'attente anxieuse; le tragique est 
la manifestation, dans un cas douloureux, des limites de la condition 
humaine et de la force invisible qui l'e"treint. . . . Le tragique, toujours 
pathe"tique, n'est pas ne"cessairement dramatique, il Test en proportion de 
1'incertitude et de la lutte qu'il contient. 

This definition leads him to study to what extent French tragedy 
is tragic, what it offers as a substitute for the tragic, and to say 
something of the tragic element in non-dramatic genres. He first 
discusses the existence of this tragic element in mediaeval plays and 
the meaning then assigned to tragedy, when the fact of its repre- 
sentation had been forgotten and the requirements had been re- 
duced to an historical subject, royal persons, bloody deeds, an 
elevated style. He next traces the development of Benaissance 
tragedy through six stages to Jodelle's Cleopatre and analyses its 
characteristics, the lack of psychology, the emphasizing of the vic- 
tim, the fact that the tragic element was donne rather than produit. 
He holds that the basic concept of this form of tragedy was the 
same in France and Italy as in Spain and England, in spite of the 
fact that academic models were so closely followed in the former 
countries that writers came to do little more than " enfiler . des 
morceaux choisis." Yet the experiment was worth while, for it 
introduced the study of the metier, the idea of regularity in form, 
the aesthetic aim. 

He pays considerable attention to problems of representation, to 
the irregular plays that appeared towards the end of the sixteenth 
century, to the school plays, which he describes as constituting a 


sort of theatre libre, to the work of Hardy in both tragedy and 
tragi-comedy, and to the achievements of Corneille's rivals. 
Through his mastery of these subjects he is able to speak of 
Corneille's accomplishment with an authority that cannot be 
granted those whose knowledge of the French classical drama is 
limited to the work of its leading authors. He shows how Cor- 
neille, completing what his predecessors had begun, placed the 
tragic action in the heart of his characters. "Les evenements qui 
font Faction, le mouvement, 1'interet, sont des sentiments et des 
volonte"s." And these are not the result, but the cause of the tragic 
events. The hero becomes the active element. Suffering is sub- 
ordinate to action. Before the Cid nobody had constructed an 
intrigue serree. Intrigue, absent from Greek tragedy, was brought 
from Latin comedy to French tragedy directly or by way of the 
tragi-comedy. " Corneille revele 1'art de creer 1'interet dramatique 
par des situations fortes, logiquement exploiters." M. Lanson 
studies with great care the new form of art that resulted from this 
method. I regret that I have not the space to quote him at length, 
for it is impossible to abbreviate what is already reduced to a mini- 
mum. His characterizations are often striking, as when he de- 
scribes Cornelian heroines. " Ce sont des sentimentales lucides, 
raisonneuses, energiques, mettant leur foi ou leur fureur en maxi- 
mes; des ames de nihilistes ou de suffragettes." 

Excellent are the four lectures on Racine, the keen analysis of 
his art, product of the French tragedy; with its emphasis upon love 
and psychological action, and the Greek with its poetic and legend- 
ary atmosphere, its tragic and lyrical intensity. The minor 
authors, contemporaries and successors of Corneille and Racine, 
are also characterized in considerable detail. The decadence of 
tragedy in the eighteenth century is thoroughly discussed. Three 
searching chapters on Voltaire take up in turn his plays and his 
dramatic theories, the formation of his ideas, the various influences 
which subsequently altered them, his reasons for turning to tragedy, 
and, the manner in which, while continuing the classical tradition, 
he departed in a number of important respects from the usage of 
his predecessors. It is his work from Brutus to Tancrede that 
counts, for after the latter one finds in him an old man's hostility 
to the "nouveaute"s qui prolongent et depassent ses propres au- 
daces." The chapter on Diderot is important, if it serves only to 
make more widely known the fact that " lorsque la critique de 


Leasing et le theatre allemand penetrent chez nous, c'est, en tres 
grande partie, Diderot qui nous revient." 

The lectures on the nineteenth century are unfortunately hur- 
ried. They are chiefly devoted to the discovery of the tragic ele- 
ment. He finds this occasionally in the melodrama, thanks to its 
popular mysticism, in Hugo chiefly in his lyric moods, often in 
Musset and in Balzac's novels, seldom in those of George Sand or 
Anatole France. "II y a plus de tragique dans le premier acte et 
le denouement des Corbeaux de Becque que dans tout Augier et 
Dumas fils," These last chapters, while highly suggestive, are far 
too brief for the period they cover. It is altogether regrettable 
that he has only a part of one lecture to give to three such very 
tragic dramatists as Maeterlinck, Hervieu, and de Curel. He finds 
modern conditions favorable to the expression of the tragic element 
on account of its " psychologic de la sensibilite" lyrique/' its use of 
the hidden forces of nature and fate, its reaction against the abuse 
of intrigue and of dramatic artifice. 

With so admirable a work I have little fault to find. I would 
only question a few statements that seem to me inaccurate or 
incomplete. P. 20. The chorus is used in part to separate the 
acts, " d'ou pas de chceur, en regie ge"nerale, a la fin du cinquieme 
acte." This absence is also due to the fact that Seneca and the 
Greeks usually had no chorus at the end of their tragedies. P. 39. 
In accounting for the rise of tragi-comedy in France, it would be 
well to refer, not only to the example of Italian plays, but to those 
forces which M. Lanson has already mentioned as producing 
irregular tragedy, the confusion of mediaeval and Renaissance 
genres by the actors and the fondness of the public for certain 
characteristics of the older stage. P. 32. Reference to the " retour 
aux chceurs vers 1630 " should be accompanied by the statement 
that the only play of any importance that shows them at that time 
is Mairet's Silvanire. P. 45. The reference for the date of Pyramc 
et Thisbe should be to M. Lachevre, who has established it, rather 
than to Dr. Kathe Schirmacher, who accepts the incorrect date 
given by the freres Parfaict. P. 46. Pichou, Mareschal, and 
probably Boisrobert began writing no later than 1630. P. 97. In 
an interesting chapter on Corneille's last plays, M. Lanson says 
that Othon, Pulch&rie, and others constitute "une comedie tres 
originate, et unique dans notre litterature, la comedie de la cour et 
du cabinet des princes." Here he seems to have gone too far, for 


the type does not differ essentially from the later plays of Du Ever, 
which preceded them by more than a decade, Nitocris, Anaxandre, 
or even Themistocle. Pp. 73, 74. Another class of subjects could 
be added to those mentioned, that of mediaeval history and legend, 
to which 'belong Hermenigilde, Blanche de Bourbon, Charles le 
hardy, Sigismond, Jeanne d'Arc, Pertharite. P. 76. -In discussing 
the source of Venceslas and its Spanish model, M. Lanson refers 
to an article by Hascovec, but the incident there discussed is much 
less likely to have been the source of the plays than is the murder 
of Vogislas by Svatopluk in the latter half of the twelfth century. 2 
P. 83. Does not the statement that Eacine was " indifferent a la 
politique " need qualification ? 

As plays were often acted several years before they were printed, 
it is important to state whether the date given with each play 
refers to its first representation, or to its first printing. If this is 
not done, the student will think a more famous play preceded one 
which may have been acted quite as soon, but whose earliest known 
date is that of its imprimatur. For instance, how is he to know 
that four of the dates given in the list of ten tragedies sacrees on 
p. 73 are those of representation, four others of printing? He is 
still further confused by the fact that " impr." is used with the 
dates assigned to the two remaining plays, which leads him to 
infer that in the other cases the date of representation is always 
meant. A better method would be to give the date of printing in 
each case and follow it, when possible, with the date of representa- 
tion, accompanied by the abbreviation " repr." P. 46. 1630 is a 
better date for the first representation of Silvanire than 1629. 
P. 60. Eigal dates Polyeucte 1641-1642, not 1641. P. 61. Marty- 
Laveaux's dates for Corneille's plays from Heraclius to Pertharite 
are too closely followed. P. 73. How can so definite a date as 
"fin 1641 " be assigned to Du Eyer's Saul? Finally, there are a 
few typographical errors, some of which are due to American 
printing. 3 

2 Cf. my article in Modern Philology for November, 1917, and Dubravius, 
Historica Bohemica, Hanau, 1602, p. 103. 

3 Such are the placing of a period after Mme and Mile (pp. 70, 71, 78) 
and the setting of commas before et in a series according to English rather 
than French usage. If, contrary to seventeenth century custom, accents 
are to be placed on a word like Agtsilan (p. 49), why not put them on 
Gardenia, Argenis (p. 49), Cleagenor (p. 51) ? P. 18. Aman, Avomt 


These slight mistakes are easily corrected. They do not diminish 
the high excellence of the work, which remains a model for those 
who believe in the historical approach to literature. The facts 
have been established either by M. Lanson or by scholars with 
whose researches he is thoroughly familiar. The value of these 
contributions is brought out, their place fixed in the general scheme. 
The characteristics of the genre at various epochs are indicated. 
The relations of the works and their authors to the life of the 
period, the various sides of dramatic art, the theaters, the audience, 
scenery, costume, acting, are all discussed. The lectures have 
throughout an exhilarating atmosphere of uncompromising think- 
ing and keen appreciation. When one compares them, even in 
their skeleton form, with the productions of purely aesthetic 
critics, one is apt to feel that the work of the latter, when unsub- 
stantiated by historical investigation, is merely brilliant trifling. 
On the other hand, it is most stimulating to those who dig and 
blast to see what a structure can be built with the materials they 
have helped extract. 


A Good Short Delate between Winner and Waster, An Alliterative 
Poem on Social and Economic Problems in England in the 
Year 1352. With a Modern English Rendering. Edited by 
Sir Israel Gollancz, Professor of English Language and 
Literature, King's College, London [Oxford University Press, 

Professor Gollancz has rendered further valuable service to 
students of Middle English by making accessible another of the 

parler is confusing at first glance; if the second title were not in italics, 
the meaning would be clearer, as is the case with " la Veuve, au lecteur " 
on p. 54. P. 33, 1. 22. The play meant is Jacob, not Joseph. Pp. 47, 59. 
Tristan's play should be written Mariane, without the m that appears in 
Hardy's. P. 69. Othon should not be in italics here. P. 79, 11. 7, 8. 
Italics should be used for the titles of these novels. Read, p. 19, 1. 12, 
contemporains ; 1. 13, ralit6; p. 46, 1. 8, Rotrou; p. 50, 1. 28, convention- 
nelle; p. 60, 1. 3, nouveautg; 1. 12, revelee; p. 79, 1. 10, 1'; p. 113, 1. 5, 
Chancel. On this page there should be a space between lines 18 and 19. 
On p. 131, 1. 15, read Agamemnon. 


most important alliterative poems, Winnere and Wastoure, a poem 
filled with economic and social references. 

The edition consists of preface, text, an alliterative translation 
into modern English, notes, and glossary. Though the poem 
breaks off abruptly at line 503, it is probable that we have prac- 
tically all of the poem. Professor Gollancz says : " Probably very 
little of the poem is lost. The dreamer no doubt was aroused from 
his vision by the sound of trumpets, and found himself resting by 
the bank of the burn, the tale ending with some pious reflection 
by way of conclusion." Gollancz might have pointed out another 
bit of evidence. The scribe has carefully estimated the space 
available for copying the poem, for at line 153 he begins writing 
in a much smaller hand, and on folios 181 and 181 b he writes 
in very crowded double columns. Line 503 is at the end of the 
second column on the last folio of the MS. Again, the debate has 
been finished and Winner and Waster have already been sentenced 
to dwell where each is loved most, 

Aythere lede in a lond ]?er he es loued moste, 459. 

It is almost certain that very little of the poem has been lost. 

Professor Gollancz has gathered a mass of evidence pointing to 
1352-3 as the date of composition. Some of the references cited 
merely show that the poem was written between 1351-1366, the 
limits Professor Hulbert has set for the possible date. 1 Numerous 
other references, however, refer, as Gollancz has well shown, to the 
winter of 1352-3. Gollancz concludes his discussion of date with 
these words: "The cumulative value of all this evidence clearly 
points to the winter of 1352-3, as the date of composition, for the 
poet is evidently writing concerning events which are just hap- 
pening, or are fresh in his memory." 2 Professor Gollancz has 

1 Mod. Phil., xvii, 34-37. Professor Gollancz has given up his original 
dating of the poem, which Professor Hulbert has shown to be impossible. 

* Preface, p. 6. Bradley, Athenaeum, Apr. 18, 1903, 498-9, suggests this 
date, but gives as evidence only Chief Justice ShareshulPs statement of his 
reasons for summoning Parliament in January, 1352 (quoted by Gollancz, 
Preface, p. 6). Bradley concludes: "It would not be difficult to show 
that this theme [the threatened conflict between the wasteful military 
nobility and the various bodies growing rich at its expense] was naturally 
suggested by the matters discussed in the Parliament of 1352, but this I 
leave for others." In a study made before Professor Gollancz's edition 


established at least a very strong probability for the date 1352-3, 
and until his arguments for this date have been proved incon- 
clusive, Winnere and Wastoure may be regarded as among the 
earliest of the extant alliterative poems which may be dated by 
external evidence. 

This definite dating of an undated poem and the excellent dis- 
cussion of the meaning of the debate and of the banners of the 
two armies, constitute, I think, Professor Gollancz's most notable 
contribution to the study of Winner and Waster. He shows that 
the author set out to write a pamphlet on the outstanding problems 
of Edward IIFs reign, "especially between the dates of Crecj 
and Poitiers." Winner's army is composed of the wealthy mer- 
chants and others who hoarded as much as they could: the Pope, 
the lawyers, and the friars. Waster's army is composed of the 
wealthy, but reckless and spendthrift, military class. "Indeed, 
the position of this class/' says Gollancz, " in face of the rise of 
the new merchant class the new rich, with all the power of wealth, 
is an outstanding feature of the poem, and perhaps the main point 
at issue." 

After reading the scholarly Preface, the reader is surprised to 
find that the accuracy and good judgment of this part of the 
edition are absent from the editor's treatment of the text. The 
poem is boldly rewritten in an effort to obtain smooth readings 
and to get meanings out of obscure passages. 3 And there is an 
even more serious fault in the text. Although Professor Gollancz 
has corrected many of the errors in his earlier reprint, he has in 
this new edition misread the manuscript in many places. In some 
instances his misreading has led him to emend lines which make 
perfect sense in the manuscript. I note the following errors in 
the text : 

appeared I followed Bradley's hint and, by studying the chronicles of the 
period, the history of this century, and the acts of Parliament for the 
years 1351-1366, I tried to show that the poem can refer only to the years 
1352-3. This study, from a slightly different point of view, corroborates 
Gollancz's dating of the poem. , . . 

3 Professor Hulbert will discuss these emendations in his review of the 
poem for Mod. Phil. I am indebted to Mr. Hulbert for permission to use 
his copy of the MS., which I have collated with Gollancz's text and with 
my rotograph of the MS. Since facsimiles of folios 181 and 181 b are 
given in Gollancz's edition, the correct manuscript readings for lines 353- 
503 may easily be determined. 




4 Bot 

9 southewarde 
53 Schowen 
189 wittnesse 
205 wele 

254 Ratous = Ratouns 
300 Owthir it freres it feche 
302 slees 
334 frumentee 
340 clouen 4 
377 towne 
393 f>t 

399 grant = grauwt 
405 laude = launde 5 
434 fee 6 
442 f>o 

476 f>urgh 

477 taueme 
483 sege 7 
485 sperre ? 8 
488 lenger 
496 chefe 9 
500 sil... 9 

Gollancz's Text 


ratons (emended to raton[e]s), 
Owthir it freres feche 
sees (emended to se[w]es). 

Misprinted as f>at. 


The text is accompanied by a translation into modern English 
verse. " The debate between Winner and "Waster touches so many 

* The o of clouen has a stroke through it which makes it resemble an e, 
but the stroked o here is entirely different from the scribe's e. 

"These spellings occur elsewhere in the poem. 

' & if my peple ben prode me payes alle be better 

To fee bam faire & free to-fore with myn eghne [lines 433-4 of the MS]. 
The author is fond of piling up alliterative words. Fee here means ' hire.' 

7 The letters of this word are very crowded. The word is either sege or 
seete, but not sete. 

8 The p is crossed as if for the abbreviation er. It is possible, however, 
that the stroke on the tail of the p is of no significance. 

* In the note to line 496 Gollancz tries to explain " if bu wilt wele 
chese." " If bu wilt wele chefe " means " if you will well prosper " or 
" if you will wealth gain." 

The MS. has s + il (blurred). Gollancz: "s-f letters rubbed out." 


historical and economic problems that I have deemed it advisable 
to append a modern English rendering of the poem. This may be 
useful for those who wish to deal with the subject-matter." The 
editor's alliterative translation is so vigorous and it reproduces the 
spirit of the original so sympathetically that it may seem like 
hunting for faults to point out that his desire to reproduce the 
original alliteration and his incorporation of numerous emenda- 
tions either obscure or change the meaning of the original. The 
careful student of the poem must in many cases consult the 
unemended original to find out what the manuscript actually has. 
A few examples will make this point clear. The manuscript in 
line 177 has 

ffor }>ay are the ordire J>at louen cure lady to serue. 

Professor Gollancz emends ordire to ledes, which he translates as 
' liegemen/ Again, For siche wikked werkes wery the oure Lorde, 
285, is translated as " For such wicked works, worry thee God." 
In the Glossary the word is correctly defined as " pr. 3 s sub]'., 
curse/' In 307 beryn is translated as "beau sir/' In 302 the 
manuscript reads : 

Thi sone and thi sektours ichone slees othere. 

Slees was read as sees, which was emended to se[w]es and trans- 

Thy son and executors, each sueth the other. 

Lines 337-8 are given in the text as 

And iche a segge J>at I see has sexe mens doke. 
If this were nedles note, anothir comes aftir, 

In the Glossary the difficult word doke is defined as ' portion ' and 
note as 'work/ expenditure/ In the translation these lines ap- 
pear as 

Each several guest has six men's share. 

Were this not enough, another course follows. 10 

The author of Winnere and Wastoure has used a most difficult 
vocabulary. Some of the rarest words, albus, charbiande, crete, 

10 Cf. also segge, 89; (cleng)and(e), 'clinging,' for MS. gleterand, 275. 
The translation contradicts the definitions given in the Glossary in the 
case of tvryeth, 6, rechen, 363, hend, 419. In 19 or is through an oversight 
defined as ' early ' from M. E. cfyer. In the translation the correct mean- 
ing, ' or,' is given. 


doke, fawlced, heghwalles, hurdes, myndale, and potet, I have been 
unable to find in any of the other M. E. alliterative poems. Most 
of these rare words, it will be noticed, occur in alliteration and are 
presumably what the author wrote. It is significant also that the 
most unusual alliterative combinations and the rarest words are 
found in passages, such as long lists of birds or of dishes, in which 
the author is limited in his choice of suitable alliterative words. 
For many of these words Professor Gollancz has offered extremely 
clever but sound suggestions, which, in nearly every case, are 
worthy of serious consideration. He deserves the highest com- 
mendation for his excellent glossary and his valuable discussion of 
rare words. 11 

The Explanatory and Illustrative Notes aid materially in the 
interpretation of the poem and indicate its relation to other poems 
of the satirical debate type. The prevailing excellence of these 
notes, however, is marred in 'a few places by dogmatic statements 
for which no satisfactory reasons are given. For example, in the 
note to line 7 (line 21 of the MS.) : 

And Now es no frenchipe in fere hot fayntnesse of hert 

And now es no frenchipe [o]n fere bot fayntnesse of hert (Goll. text) 

Professor Gollancz says that frenchipe is used in the special sense 
of filial affection. Now, this line has been transferred from its 
position fifteen lines below in the MS. ("line 7 is in the MS. 
between 11. 21, 22, but evidently belongs here"), where it makes 
perfect sense. At that point frenchipe refers to the friendship that 
"whylome" existed between "lordes in londe " (19) and the 

"Professor Gollancz's ingenious explanation, in the 'note to line 475, of 
pot et = poted = poted = potend = potener ( " the contarction for er being 
easily mistaken for d) = pautener, O. F. pautonniere, a bag, purse," 
accompanied as it is by a transposition and by two emendations (MS. 
potet beryn to l>er[ande~\ pote[ner]) is an exception to his usually sound 
suggestions and is positively fascinating in its subtlety. 

There are several other minor matters of vocabulary that should be noted. 
Are, 409, may be regarded as a verb and not as the adverb, ' formerly.' 
" That are had lordes in londe & ladyes riche " would then be interpreted 
as " Who are regarded as lords in land and ladies rich," which, I think, 
fits the context better. Boste, 241, in fere, 7, kythe, 134, merke, 356, I 
should translate as 'threaten,' 'together/ 'country,' 'mark' (the coin). 
What, 119, I take as the object of kneice and not as the exclamation 
what = ' Lo.' 


"makers of myrthes " (20) and means simply 'friendship.' 
Again, the now of this line is in contrast to whylome of line 19, 
for the author is contrasting the good days of the past, when poetry 
was encouraged by lords in land, with the present-day neglect of 
poetry. The editor has emended the line, has moved it up fifteen 
lines, and has given frenchipe an unusual meaning to make it fit 
the new context. 

In reference to line 103, 

Thynke I dubbede the knyghte with dynttis to dele, 

Gollancz says : " Perhaps the poet wrote ' duk/ as the alliteration 
requires. Cp. '& haf dy$t jondere dere a duk to haue worked' 
Sir Gawayne, 1. 678." I see no reason whatsoever for this state- 
ment. The line from Sir Gawayne does not contain the same 
alliteration. And surely dubbede the Tcnyghte is a common enough 
phrase. It occurs, moreover, in line 499 of this very poem: 

I thynk to do it in ded & dub J>e to kynghte. 

Then, too, the line already has three alliterative words, one in the 
first half and two in the second. 

In lines 263-293 Winner attacks Waster for riotous living and 
extravagant spending, which destroy Waster's inheritance and 
leave him in poverty : 

and thou wolle to the tauerne by-fore the toune-hede 

Iche beryne redy with a bolle to blerren thyn eghne 

hete the whatte thou haue schalte and whatt thyn hert lykes 

wyfe wedowe or wenche J?at wonne sthere aboute 

Then es there bott fille In & feche forthe florence to schewe 

wee hee and worthe vp wordes ynewe 

Bot when this wele es a-waye the wyne moste be payede fore 

Than lympis 3owe weddis to laye or 3oure londe selle 

ffor siche wikked werkes wery the oure lorde (11. 277-285 of the MS. ). 

Gollancz says, " Florence to schewe " means ' for Florence to 
appear ' ; ' & lo, Florence is there/ Florence was evidently a popu- 
lar name for a wanton woman." The citations given by Gollancz 
are all late, from c. 1700 on, and merely show that in modern cant 
and dialect speech Florence means a slattern or a wanton. " Flor- 
ence" I regard as the object of "feche forthe," which otherwise 
has no object, and " Florence to schewe " I think means ' florins 


to show/ as is shown by* the phrase " the wyne moste be payede 
fore." 12 

Since I have necessarily devoted most of my space to a dis- 
cussion of the weaknesses of Professor Gollancz' s edition, I may 
inadvertently have given the impression that the number of these 
weaknesses is relatively large. But this is by no means the case. 
This edition of Winnere and Wastoure, though it is marred by a 
poor text and by occasional dogmatic and too-ingenious statements, 
constitutes, because of the excellence of its preface, notes, and 
glossary, a valuable contribution to the study of Winnere and 
Wastoure and other Middle English alliterative poems. It is a 
book that will amply repay the careful examination of every stu- 
dent of Middle English literature. 


Emory University, Atlanta. 

The Use of Tu and Vous in Moliere. By P. B. FAY. University 
of California Publications, 1920, Vol. vm, No. 3, pp. 227-286. 

In this monograph the author proposes " to examine in detail 
the use of tu and vous in Moliere's plays, to determine, as accurately 
as possible, the field which belongs to each, and especially to try 
to explain the psychological or stylistic reasons which underlie the 
rather frequent changes from vous to tu and the reverse/' 

Several methods of presentation are suggested. The author has 
chosen the one used by Schliebitz in Die Person der Anrede in der 
franzosischen Sprache (Breslau, 1886). ' He classifies his material 
according to the relation between the speaker and the person 
addressed. He finds that in the upper and middle classes the polite 
form is used between husband and wife except in three cases. 
Fathers, in addressing their children, seldom use either form to the 
exclusion of the other. When mothers address their children, 

a Gollancz in his note to this line remarks : " Fore : probably added by 
the scribe." But doesn't fore mean ' for ">. Pay for(e) is a common 
phrase. In line 477 Gollancz prints tonne for the MS. tauerne. His note 
in explanation of tonne, which he regards as the name of some particular 
tavern, is rendered unnecessary by a reference to the MS. The notes to 
lines 108, 236, 290-294 are also unconvincing. In the notes to lines 286 
and 407 misprints occur. 


brothers and sisters one another, or uncles and aunts their nephews 
and nieces, the form, as we should expect, is vous. Between those 
of higher station and servants, between servants themselves, the 
form is tu, which is perfectly natural. In short, one might sum- 
marize, using the author's own phrases as criteria, by saying that 
when Moliere's characters wish to be abusive or to express affection, 
anger, scorn, familiarity, a confidential attitude, the tu form is 
usual; for irony, indignant surprise, parental authority, reproach, 
severity, formality, vous is the form generally used. 

If we are to draw any definite conclusions as to Moliere's usage 
of the pronouns of address, our information must be more definite 
and more extended than what is presented here. The author fails 
to make his study sufficiently statistical. He does not show clearly 
enough the evidence on which he bases his deductions as to what 
pronoun is the normal form of address in a particular play. If 
he is either to sustain or to disprove the theory of Schliebitz, who 
says (page 41) that with I'Avare (1668) there is between parents 
and children a shift from tu as the normal, unemotional form to 
vous, he should give us the evidence and not deal in generalities. 
The result of this non-scientific approach is that the phrasing of 
his article is at times vague. " It is true," he says (page 237, 
note 16), "that the facts do to a certain extent seem to point in 
this direction [that is, to a change in usage after I'Avare], but 
there are so many exceptions. . . ." We should like to know 
definitely how many cases and how many exceptions there are so 
as to be able to weigh more accurately the evidence. Again : " The 
causes underlying these changes [that is, from tu to vous between 
fathers and sons or daughters] may in most cases, thougH not 
always, be readily inferred," than which there is nothing more 
vague or unscientific. And once more : " But it is possible, I 
believe, to discern certain general tendencies to which many of the 
cases appear to conform." He should have presented the actual 
statistics, showing the general tendency and the exceptional cases. 

His interpretations are in general correct, though in one instance 
he seems to have gone far afield. In this case (p. 243) he. offers 
the irritation caused by Dorine's repeated interruptions as explana- 
tion for the shift from vous to tu when Mariane is addressed by her 
father. The shift would seem rather to be due to a more familiar, 
persuasive, or wheedling attitude on the part of her father. 


Our author says himself that there are not " startling general 
conclusions in regard to Moliere's use of tu and vous." He has 
neither proved nor disproved the statement of Schliebitz and has 
added very little incidental information to our knowledge of 
Moliere's usage. A better method would be to study the psychology 
of individual cases, treat the plays chronologically, and submit the 
numerical evidence of the use of tu and vous. Basing the study on 
such factors is the only way to show the truth or falsity of 
Schliebitz's theory and hence to discover if there is any change 
from contemporary usage in Moli&re's plays. This still remains 
to be done. 


University of Minnesota. 

Anthony Aston, Stroller and Adventurer, by WATSON NICHOLSON, 
Ph. D. Published by the Author. South Haven, Michigan, 
1920. 98 pp. 

Dr. Nicholson's book concerns itself with one of the lesser figures 
of the eighteenth century stage, who has hitherto, even to most 
close students of the period, been scarcely more than a name. But 
the real interest and significance that are seen to adhere to the 
unconventional person of Anthony Aston fully justify this small 
volume, in which is assembled all the available material on that 
engaging farceur and soldier of fortune. 

The main basis of the biographical study, which occupies the 
first half of the brochure, is the extremely rare " Sketch of the 
Life, &c. of Mr. Anthony Aston, Commonly calFd Tony Aston. 
Written by Himself/' which Dr. Nicholson, in 1914, came upon in 
the British Museum appended to The Fool's Opera, a slender 
dramatic piece by Aston, written under the pseudonym of Mat. 

Unfortunately Dr. Nicholson's elation over his find betrayed 
him into grave indiscretion. He says (p. 7) "It appeared in no 
library catalogue that I had ever seen," and later (p. 42) " The 
British Museum probably possesses the only copy in existence. It 
is the only authoritative account of the life of Anthony Aston thus 
far unearthed, and its existence was not suspected until I dis- 
covered it a few years ago." 


As a. matter of fact; the full title appears under Aston's name 
in the British Museum Catalogue. Moreover, this is not the sole 
extant copy, nor is Dr. Nicholson the first to employ the Sketch 
for purposes of research. In 1896 Judge Charles P. Daly, in his 
First Theatre in America 1 (p. 19), refers briefly to a copy of this 
little book owned by Mr. Thomas J. McKee of New York, who was 
then preparing a paper (never completed owing to his death) on 
Aston's career, for the Dunlap Society. A third copy of Aston's 
work is now to be found in the Library of Congress. 

Extensive use of the pamphlet was made by Mr. 0. Gr. Sonneck 
in Early Opera in America z (pp. 4-8), the first part of which was 
reprinted practically intact from the New Music Review of June 
to August, 1907, where it originally appeared. On the basis of 
the Sketch Mr. Sonneck first dated accurately the introduction of 
professional acting into America. He quotes three extracts bearing 
on Aston's experiences in this country. 

Unhappily for his confident claims, then, Dr. Nicholson was by 
no means the discoverer of a unique and hitherto unknown copy of 
the player's autobiography. Nevertheless he has done a good 
service in making the Aston material accessible. After the 
biographical study, attractively written and sound in its research, 
are added three reprints: the Sketch, W. R. Chetwood's short 
anecdotes concerning Aston from A General History of the Stage 
(1749), and Aston's Brief Supplement to Colley Gibber's Apology, 
which contains several autobiographical references. Thus the 
book includes probably everything that is known about the life of 
this intriguing if humble follower of Thespis. 

Tony's activities, however, were by no means confined to the 
stage. Starting his career at the end of the seventeenth century 
as a student of law, he soon renounced the Inns of Court for Drury 
Lane, but shortly he left London and took to the road with a 
strolling company. Then the army beckoned, and he sailed for 
Jamaica to fight against the French and Spanish. In the new 
world his life was a succession of adventures. Shipwrecked on the 
coast of South Carolina, he proceeded to Charleston, where for a 
time in 1703 he "turned player and poet," and gave to America 

1 Published in N"ew York by the Dunlap Society. 

1 Published by G. Schirmer, 1915. Mr. Sonneck was at that time Ohief 
of the Division of Music, Library of Congress. 



its first sight of professional acting. The winter of 1703-4 was 
spent in the further pursuit of his vocation in New York. On his 
return home, he re-entered, perhaps after a brief participation in 
the expedition to Portugal, the ranks of the strollers, and at the 
head of his own small company, consisting chiefly of his wife and 
son, with a repertoire of scraps from other men's plays and tags of 
his own invention, he spent the remainder of his life 3 peddling 
his wares throughout England and even into Scotland and 
Ireland the remainder except for brief intervals when the offices 
of tapster and publican seem to have engaged his talents. Fame 
he gained if not fortune ; Chetwood declared that he " is as well 
known in every Town as the Post-Horse that carries the Mail." 

Mr. Nicholson's account is of value not only as a record of 
Aston's career but as an illustration of the shifts and subterfuges 
that early eighteenth century strollers resorted to in the struggle 
to maintain themselves by their crude and lowly ministration. 
Tony himself, among the most competent of his caste, was an 
imitator and wag but in no sense an original comedian. What he 
lacked in application and art he made up for in versatility, coarse- 
ness and boast. 

Aston's two known plays or " operas " are in every way neg- 
ligible, but his two pamphlets as reprinted by Dr. Nicholson are 
vastly diverting. They display, to be sure, an undisciplined taste, 
but this cannot weigh against the immense gusto and the shrewd 
wit manifested on every page. His Brief Supplement, consisting 
of descriptions of various famous actors and actresses of his day, 
contains many discerning comments on their art, showing that 
Tony knew good acting when he saw it; and his extremely frank, 
unidealized portraits of face and form make genuine flesh and 
blood people of his subjects. This pamphlet is one of the most 
human things ever written about the theatre. It is good to have 
such documents reproduced in accessible form but it is not well 
to overlook the investigations of one's predecessors. 


Columbia University. 

3 Ashton died about the middle of the century, though the exact year is 
not known. 



When Schiller in Wattensteins Tod (v. 3577, Act V, sc. iv, 60) 

Und doch erinnr' ich an den alten Spruch: 
Man soil den Tag nicht vor dem Abend loben. 

he did not of course know how old the proverb actually was. Nor 
do we. But several parallels from the Middle Ages have heen 
printed since Schiller's day and it is interesting to collect them 
and to review certain speculations about their age. 

Perhaps the oldest instance it may possibly be dated in the 
tenth or eleventh century is found in the Eddie Havamal, an 
Old Norse collection of gnomic lore (str. 81) : 

At kveldi skal dag leyfa, konu es brend es, 
inaeki es reyndr es, mey es gefin es, 
Is es #fir k0mr, ol es drukkit es. 

( Praise the day at even, a wife when dead, 
a weapon when tried, a maid when married, 
ice when 'tis crossed, and ale when 'tis drunk. ) * 

Heusler adds a new Icelandic parallel (Mottulssaga, 22, 8: at 
kveldi er dagr lofandi) and remarks that the notion " Be slow to 
praise " has taken form more than once as a Priamel, a rhetorical 
heaping up of apothegms as in the lines above, once indeed in 
India. Possibly, he concludes, this Eddie stanza may have been 
the original Priamel, the model for the others, although in the 
choice of its six members and in the alliterative formulation it is 
an independent, Old Norse product. 

Concerning this particular instance more will be said below, for 
the present it will be sufficient to note that the first half-line 
exactly parallels the German proverb and that the same idea is 
variously expressed in the following epigrams. Somewhat later is 
the earliest instance of known age, a sententious remark in Walter 
Map's De Nugis Curialium, which was composed in the last quarter 
of the twelfth century. Professor Hinton, who has dated the 
various fragments of the work, assigns the portion in which the 
proverb occurs to the year 1182. Map says : 

1 Olive Bray, The Elder or Poetic Edda, London, 1908, p. 83. Dietrich 
(" Zu Hdvamdl," Zs. f. deutsches Altertum, ill [1843], 414) cites medieval 
analogues to the substance of these admonitions, but none is closely par- 
allel to the first of them. Cf. ")>at skal leyfa sem liSit er," J6nsson, 
Arkiv for nordisk filologi, xxx (1914), 108, No. 246. The latest study of 
the Hdvamdl is Heusler, " Sprichworter in den eddischen Sittengedichten," 
Zs. des Vereins f. Volkskunde, xxv (1915), 108-115 and xxvi (1916), 42- 
47, see especially pp. 42-43. 


Sed vero laus in fine canitur, et uespere laudatur dies. 2 

Apparently about contemporary with the admonition of the Arch- 
deacon of Oxford are certain Latin proverbs preserved in a manu- 
script of the Bibliotheque Nationale (Lat. 6765, saec. xii), which 
are as follows : 

Que debetur ei, laus vespere danda diei. 
Vespere detur ei, si laus est danda diei. 
Vespere laudetur, si pulcra dies perhibetur. 3 

It also occurs in the vernacular about the same time, being par- 
ticularly popular in medieval French, e. g., 

Au vespre loue len le iour. 4 

Schepp, who collects eleven more variations on the theme, con- 
cludes that the original form of the proverb in Old French was 

Al vespre loe en le jor e al matin son hoste. 5 

The second injunction appears to be peculiar to the French. The 
only Latin (or other) example I have noted with this conclusion, 
viz. ? 

Uespere laudatur lux, hospes mane probatur 

is from the Proverbia Rusticorum, a collection of proverbs current 
in northern France in the thirteenth century and the first collection 
to contain the vernacular along with the Latin for school purposes.* 
No German occurrence of the proverb seems to be reported earlier 
than the manuscript of the Schwdbacher Spriiche, which is assigned 
by its editor to middle Germany at the end of the fourteenth cen- 
tury. In that collection, made by an ecclesiastic to serve as a basis 
for sermons, the proverb appears as 

Ein guten tag sql man auff den obent loben. 7 

2 Dist. II, cap. xvi (ed. Wright, p. 85; ed. James, p. 80, 11. 24-25). Pro- 
fessor Hinton's article is "Walter Map's De Nugi-s Curialium: Its Plan 
and Composition," Publ. of the Mod. Lang. Ass., xxxn (1917), 123. 

S J. Werner, Lateinische Sprichw&rter und Smnsprilche des Mittelalters, 
Heidelberg, 1912, pp. 74 (Q 6), 99 (V 25 and 26). See also Seller, Zs. f. 
deutsche Philologie, XLV (1913), 291. There are important additions to 
Werner in Slijper, Tijdschrift, xxxii (1913), 261 if. and Weymann. 
Mtinchener Museum, 11 (1914), 117-45; but these I have not seen. 

4 Hogberg, " Zwei altfranzosische Sprichwortersammlungen in der Uni- 
versit&ts-Bibliothek zu Uppsala," Zs. f. frz. Sprache und Litteratur, XLV 
(1919), 469, No. 8. 

' Altfranzosische Sprichworter und Sentenzen aus den hdfischen Kimst- 
epen . . . und aus einigen didaktischen Diclitungen, Greifswald Diss., 
1905, pp. 41-42. Paul Meyer (Romania, xxxi [1902], 476) cites an ex- 
ample without giving source or date, but it is the same as Schepp's fourth 

'Mullenhoff and Scherer, DenkmMer*, n (1892), 133 and 141. 

7 The collection was first published by Hofmann (Sitzungsberichte der 
Jcgl. 'bairischen akad. der wiss., n [1870], 25-38), and is reprinted with 


A century and a half later (1550) it runs 

Guoten tac man zabende loben sol. 8 

In both of these instances the employment of the auxiliary sol will 
later be seen to be significant. Two of the three manuscripts of the 
Middle English Proverbs of Hendyng, a poem in which each stanza 
concludes with a gnomic phrase, contain our proverb. In one ver- 
sion it reads : 

At eve man seal J>e dai heri. 9 

This instance is particularly interesting because the bitter and 
worldly Proverbs of Hendyng are supposed to contain rather more 
of the native English paroemiological lore than do such inter- 
national collections as Adrian and Ritheus, the Disticha Catonis, 
or Salomon and Mar coif (although the mysterious Hendyng pur- 
ports to be the son of Marcolf). Moreover, it will be noticed that 
the English proverb follows the model of the sceaZ-gnomes of the 
Exeter and Cotton MSS. ? which represent an ancient Germanic 
manner of phrasing a proverb. Although the similarity in this 
regard between the Old Norse and the Middle English forms is 
striking it does not imply borrowing, but rather employment of 
the same convention. Note also the modern Danish 

which follows the old model. 10 Beyond the Middle Ages I have 
not sought to trace the proverb, it is no doubt to be found in the 
standard collections. 11 

It has already been said that the proverb in some of its forms 
(English, German, and Scandinavian) follows an old rhetorical 

useful notes by Seller, Zs. f. deutsche Philologie, XLVII (1918), 243 fT., see 
particularly p. 254, No. 131. Seller's comparison of " Nescis, quid vesper 
serus vehat " (Varro ap. Gellius, 13. 11. 1) and "Quid vesper ferat, incer- 
tum est" (Liv. 45. 8, 6) does not seem to fit exactly the idea behind the 

*Laurin (cited by Heusler from Zingerle, Die deutschen Sprichioorter 
im Mittelalter, p. 145). 

Varnhagen, Anglia, rv (1881), 183, str. 34, cf. p. 197, str. 33: At oven 
me shal preisen }>e feire dai. Kneuer (Die Sprichworter Hendyngs, Diss., 
Leipzig, 1901) misunderstands the phrase entirely, since he cites as par- 
allel : " Tieus rit au main ki au soir pleure." Cf . Meyer, loc. cit. 

10 H. G. Bohn, Polyglot of Foreign Proverbs, 1881, p. 365; cf. p. 168, 
" Schonen Tag soil man loben, wenn Nacht ist." 

U E. g., Diiringsfeld, Das Spriohwort als Kosmopolit, I, 85; Reinsberg- 
Diiringsfeld, Sprichworter der germanischen und romanischen Vdlker, IT, 
no. 54; W. C. Hazlitt, English Proverbs, London, 1907, p. 363, " Praise day 
at night and life at the end," (from Herbert, Outlandish Proverbs, 1640), 
etc. It does not seem to be classical in this particular form, although the 
notion was familiar enough to the Greeks and Romans (dicique beatus 
Ante obitum nemo supremaque funera debet Ov. Met. 3. 136; 8pa rt\ot 
naKpov ptov Herod. 1. 32), cf. Otto, Die Sprichicorter und sprichwdrtlichen 
Redensarten der Rdmer, Leipzig, 1890, p. 369, "vesper." 


type. And the similarity of the Old Norse stanza to certain Finn- 
ish metrical proverbs (kanteletar) has led to an interesting but 
probably fruitless discussion. The Finnish verses as translated by 
Euling run as follows : 

Ruhm dein neues Ross erst morgen, 
Deine Frau im zweiten Jahre, 
Erst im dritten deinen Schwager, 
Und dich selber nie im Leben 

Ruhm dein Ross nicht vor dem Morgen, 
Nicht den Sohn, bevor er Mann ist, 
Nicht die Tochter vor der Ehe, 
Und dich selbst nie vor dem Tode." 

He remarks that these stanzas are artistically constructed in that 
they exhibit a climactic arrangement, which does not appear in 
the Old Norse. Richard M. Meyer (Die altgermanische Poesie, pp. 
434, 517) asserts that they were borrowed by the Finns from the 
Germanic races with which they were in contact during the first 
centuries of the Christian Era. But Euling, more cautiously and 
no doubt more correctly, sees only a community of motive, and not 
borrowing. 13 And Comparetti (cited by Euling) declares that the 
time of the contact cannot be determined. 

Whatever the possibilities of borrowing may be and whatever the 
chance that a bit of indogermanic proverbial wisdom which has 
been transmitted through the ages is before us, it is clear that 
Schiller spoke more wisely than he could have known in saying 
" den alten Spruch." ARCHER TAYLOR. 

Washington University. 


To those following the discussion of Chateaubriand and the 
American journey, the following passages from The Life, Letters 
and Journal of George Ticknor (London, 1876) will be of interest. 
Under date of May 28, 1817, Ticknor, who was a traveler in Paris, 
writes : 

"I dined to-day again at Mad. de StaeFs. There were few persons 
there, but she likes to have somebody every day, for society is necessary 
to her. To-day, however, she was less well, and saw none of us. At 
another time I should have regretted this; but to-day I should have been 
sorry to have left the party for any reason, since, beside the Due de Laval, 
and M. Barante, whom I already knew, there were Chateaubriand and 
Mad. Ke'camier, two persons whom I was as curious to see as any two 
persons in France whom I had not yet met. . . . 

u Germanistische A-bhandlungen, xxv, Das Priamel bis Hans Rosenplilt, 
p. 125. 

" He cites a number of parallels, which need not be repeated here since 
they have in common merely the general notion of withholding praise until 
worth has been demonstrated. 


"Chateaubriand is a short man, with a dark complexion, black hair, 
black eyes, and altogether a most marked countenance. It needs no skill 
in physiognomy to say at once that he is a man of firmness and decision 
of character, for every feature and movement of his person announce it. 
He is too grave and serious, and gives a grave and serious turn to the 
conversation in which he engages; and even when the whole table laughed 
at Barante's wit, Chateaubriand did not even smile; not, perhaps, because 
he did not enjoy the wit as much as the rest, but because laughing is too 
light for the enthusiasm which forms the basis of his character, and would 
certainly offend against the consistency we always require. It was natural 
for us to talk about America, and he gave me a long and eloquent descrip- 
tion of his travels from Philadelphia to Niagara, and from Niagara across 
the unbroken forests to New Orleans; but I must confess he did not dis- 
cover that eagerness and vanity on the subject which I think he does in 
his Martyrs and his Itinerary. . . . On the contrary he seemed rather to 
prefer to talk of Italy and Rome, of which his recollections seemed more 
lively than of any other part of his travels; and, indeed, I doubt not he 
would like to return there rather than to revisit any country he has yet 
seen, for he spoke of Rome as a ' place where it is so easy to be happy.' 
His conversation, like his character, seems prompt, original, decisive, and, 
like his works, full of sparkling phrases, happy combinations and thoughts, 
sometimes more brilliant than just." (Op. cit., I, 113, 114.) 

Under date of June 2, 1817 Ticknor continues: 

" I called this morning on Chateaubriand. He is now poor, for his 
occupation is gone, and he lives in a hdtel garni, not far from my lodgings. 
We talked a good deal about our American Indians and the prevalent 
notions of civilizing them; upon which he has the rational opinions that 
nobody can entertain, I suspect, but one who has seen them." (Op. cit., I, 

From the foregoing, written ten years before the Voyage en 
Am&rique, there is evidence from a highly reputable witness that 
thus early Chateaubriand was fully persuaded he had made the 
trip from Philadelphia to Niagara and New Orleans, though there 
is strong intimation that his American muse showed signs of 
deserting him. He speaks of our early Indian problems in a way 
to carry conviction to Ticknor that he knew of them first hand. 
The conversation at Mme de Stael's might be added to the list of 
instances given by M. Be"dier in the early pages of his well-known 
articles as examples of his general remark : " Aussi, les souvenirs 
de ces hautaines entreprises avaient comme pe'netre' la vie de 
Chateaubriand, et vingt ans, trente ans plus tard, dans le train 
journalier de 1'existence, mille reminiscences involontaires evo- 
quaient soudain a ses yeux la nature du Nouveau-Monde." (Be"dier, 
Rev. d'Hist. Litt., 1899, p. 502.) The Ticknor evidence also adds 
a little to the depth of that foi si profonde of which M. Be"dier 
speaks. To declaim to an American upon the subject of America 
was something more of an exercise of faith than to paint le desert 
du Nouveau-Monde to Europeans such as Mme Joubert and Mme 
de Beaumont in the twilight of the garden of la Muette. 


Williams College. 



Several references to the echo not included in Mr. Elbridge 
Colby's valuable study The Echo-Device in Literature (New York 
Public Library, 1920) may be of interest to students. 

I. Non-Dramatic Literature: 

(a). One of the "sonnets" in Henry Wotton's translation, 
A Courtlie Controversie of Cupid's Cantels (1578), is 
an echo-song (cf. Scott, Eliz. Translations from the 
Italian, p. 36). 

(b). Barnneld's Cynthia (sonnet 13). 

(c). Eichard Brathwaite's Barnabee's Journal (1618). A 
burlesque of " Eccho." 

(d). Thomas Walkington, in the prefatory letter to his 1639 
edition of The Optick Glasse of Humours (originally 
printed in 1607), says that he wrote " an Echo." 

(e). Nathanial Eichards's "The Divine Eccho, Between the 
Good Angell, Man in despaire, and the Devill," a nine- 
page production appearing in his Poems Sacred and 
Satyricall (1641) is another exception to Mr. Colby's 
statement that almost all the echo-poems deal with un- 
requited love. 

(f). In connection with the early appearance of the Echo in 
England and the use of the device for purposes of relig- 
ious controversy should be considered the following pas- 
sage in a letter of August 3, 1566, by Guzman de Silva, 
Spanish Ambassador in England : 

" A picture was recently made in Antwerp, represent- 
ing, on one side, those who are called Gueux, attempting 
to tear down the placards relative to religion and the 
inquisition that are placed on a tree, and on the other 
side, the clergy defending the same. To this, words had 
been added by the Protestants with a reply in the form 
of an Echo, and this has been printed, and sold here." 
The Bishop of London, continues the Spaniard, tried his 
best to prevent the sale of the work (Calendar State 
Papers, Spanish 1558-67, p. 571). Just what is meant 
by the " reply in the form of an Echo " ? 

II. Dramatic Productions: 

(a). The Entertainment at Elvetham (1591), by N. Bre- 
ton (?) and others. An echo-song, 
(b). The Cooler's Prophecy (1594), Scene iii. 
(c). Marston's Sophonisba (1602), IV, i. 
(d). Beaumont and Fletcher's Prophetess (lie. 1622), V, iii. 


(e). Heywood's Captives (1624), II, i. 

(f). Randolph's Amyntas (1638), last scene. 

(g). Robert Baron's Gripus and Hegio (III, iii), a pastoral 

drama incorporated in his The Cyprian Academy 


(h). William Peaps' Love in it's Extasie (1649), III, iv. 
(i). Cosmo Manuche's The Loyal Lovers (1652), Act V. 
(j). Sir William Lower's The Enchanted Lovers (1658), 

III, i. An echo-song, 
(k). Walter Montague's The Shepheards Paradise (pr. 1659), 


These instances of the echo-device in drama, in addition to being 
additional evidence of the popularity of the trick, especially on 
the court and academic stages, further illustrates two points made 
by Mr. Colby: (1) The increasing frequency of the device to ad- 
vance the plot; (2) the fondness of pastoral drama for the Echo. 

In conclusion, it may be noted that the Echo continued to appear 
in a certain type of drama even after the Restoration. This is true 
in spite of D'Israeli's statement that Butler's ridicule in 1663 drove 
it out of use. In III, iv of D'Avenant and Dryden's Tempest 
(1670), Ariel performs the function of Echo and an echo-song also 
occurs. Very similar to the device employed in Peele's Arraign- 
ment of Paris and certain masques are two later cases. In the first 
act of Shadwell's Psyche (1675) is "a short Symphony of Rustiek 
Musick, representing an Echo"; and in V, vi of Charles D'Ave- 
nant's Circe (1685) " Phansy enters with the pleasant Dreams 
the Pleasant Dreams sing and dance an Entry to the Song, to 
which Musicke there is an Echo in the Clouds." 


Trinity College, N. C. 


Mr. Louis A. Wood, in a dissertation entitled The Form and 
Origin of Milton's Anti-Trinitarian Conception, 1 advances the 
theory that Milton was indebted to the Italian Reformer, Ber- 
nardino Ochino, for his heretical conception of the Trinity, as well 
as for the doctrine of polygamy embodied in the treatise De Doc- 
trina Christiana and the description of the Infernal Council in 
Paradise Lost. 

On page 42 Wood notes that Milton makes no mention of Ochino 
in the list of divines cited in the Divorce pamphlets, where his 
name might be expected to appear had Milton read him at the 

1 London, 1911. 


time of their composition, and his argument rests solely on some 
striking parallelisms of thought and on the fact that Ochino's 
writings were known and esteemed in England. It is odd that 
both Wood and his reviewers should have overlooked an allusion 
to Ochino in Milton's works. It is on page 114 of the Common- 
place Book, 2 under the heading De Matrimonio : " Sebastianus Cas- 
talio Allobrox Bernardinum Ochinum secutus, cujus dialogos 
latinos fecit, polygamiam adstruere videtur. Thuan. Hist, 1. 35. 
ad finem. p. 271." Tihe passage to which Milton refers reads as 
follows in the later editions of Thuanus, one of which Milton 
used : " Castalio vero . . . Bernardino Ochino segregi, cujus et 
dialogus Latinos fecit, praecipue in polygamium adstipulari credi- 
tus ; unde pleraque contraria inter eos scripta emanarunt." 3 

The implication would seem to be that Milton knew little 
further either of Castalio or of Ochino when he set down this note. 4 
Certain it is that his indulgent attitude toward polygamy is quite 
independent of anything in Ochino's Dialogi. 5 It is evident 
already in notes made from various sources in the Commonplace 
Book before 1639, long antedating, so far as we know, a specifically 
formulated doctrine of divorce. There is, of course, nothing in 
these facts to militate against Wood's idea that Milton at some 
time read Ochino's works and was influenced by his antitrinitarian 
conception. If we possessed Milton's lost Index Theologicus we 
might perhaps expect to find doctrinal citations from the Dialog i, 
but I cannot help feeling that if Milton had actually known Ochino 
at first hand he would have alluded to him in his published writ- 
ings, as he does frequently to the other Italian reformers, Sarpi 
and Pietro Martire, who were, like Ochino, welcome renegades 
from the stronghold of Catholicism. The parallels between 
Ochino's Tragoedie and Paradise Lost are negligible in view of the 
long tradition of treatments of this theme and of Milton's obvious 
indebtedness to Tasso. 


The University of North Carolina. 

* Edited by A. H. Horwood for the Camden Society, 1877. 

* Thuanus, Historic, sui Temporis, London, 1733, Vol. rr, p. 381. 

* Circa 1644/5. See my forthcoming study of the chronology of the 
Commonplace Book entries. 

8 Wood, p. 49, thinks that Milton had his attention drawn to Ochino by 
the latter's writings on divorce and then became a convert to his doctrine 
of polygamy. 



In his review of my dissertation, Professor Moore expressed 
regret that I did not print the entry in which reference is made 
to Henry Gisors as Chaucer's deputy in the office of controller of 
the customs. 1 I have at last been able to verify my copy of this 
entry and give it herewith : 

Rex dilectis et fidelibws suis NichoZoo Brembre et Johanni 
Philippot collectoribws custumarum et subsidiorwm suonim in 
portu ciuitatis sue Londonie salwtem. dilecius nobis Galfrt^us 
Chaucer Armiger contrarotulator custumarwm et subsidiorum 
nostrorum lanarwm coriorwm et pellium lanutarwm in portu pre- 
dict nobts humiliter supplicauit vt cum ipse per certis negociis 
sit et per certum tempus futurwm erit in tantum occupatus quod 
ipse circa officium suum contrarotulatoris quod in portu predicto 
ha&et intendere non potest absque inquietudine nimis gmui: 
velimws ei licenciam concedere qwod ipse officium 'predictfwm per 
quendam locum suum tenentem excercere et occupare possit: nos 
eius supplicactiom ex causa predict fauorabili^er inclinati : licen- 
ciam huiusmodi ei usqwe ad festum ommwm sanctorum proximwm 
futurwm duxinms concedendam;. Et ideo vobis mandanms qwod 
dilec^um nobis Henricwm Gisors quern idem Galfridus locum suum 
tenentem in officio predicto coram nobis in cancellarta nostra. 
deputauit cuiws eciam sacro-me^wm de officio illo bene et fideliter 
loco dici Galfridt faciendo cepimws ad officium illud vice prefati 
Galfridfi exequendwm recipiatis et ipsum Henrtcwm omnia que ad 
officium predictum in portu predtlc^o pertinent vsqwe ad idem fes- 
tum omnium sanctorum libere et absqwe impedimento aliquo facere 
et excercere permittatis. Ita semper qwod idem Henrtcws in officio 
illo interim continue moretwr et se bene et fideliter gerat in eodem 
et rotulos suos officium illud tangentes manu sua propria scribat. 
Volumus enim quod altera pars sigilli nos^ri quod dicitwr Coket 
in portu predicto in custodia sua remaneat per tempus supradtctfwm. 
Teste Rege apud Westmonas^eriwm xxxiii die Juni/ 

per brewe de priuato 

University of Chicago. J. R. HuLBEET. 


Chaucers Sprache und Verskunst, dargestellt von Bernhard ten 
Brink. Dritte Auflage bearbeited von Eduard Eckhardt (Leipzig, 
Chr. Herm. Tauchnitz, 1920). The first edition of this notable 
book appeared in 1884; the second, supervised (durchgesefyen) by 

J Modern Language Notes, xxvin, 193. 
2 Close Rolls 224. mem. 36. 


Professor Kluge, in 1899, which was seven years after the author's 
death. This second edition was translated into English by Dr. 
M. Bentinck Smith in 1901 (Macmillan & Co.). The section- 
numbering is the same thruout these three forms of the work; 
this agreement is, unfortunately, not maintained in the newly 
revised edition. The English translator very helpfully supple- 
mented the references to the Six-Text edition by references to 
Skeat's Chaucer, but this feature has also been disregarded by Dr. 
Eckhardt. However, there is a gain in the extension of the verbal 
index, which now embraces chapters I and II (not only II as here- 
tofore). In tracing the redistribution of details, this extension 
supplies the right help. Thus, the interesting word reysed (Prol. 
54), discussed by Zupitza in his review of the first edition, has been 
carried from 41 to 88, where it is more precisely derived from 
German thru 0. F. reise, ' military expedition/ 

In a brief preface, Dr. Eckhardt tells that he assumed the pre- 
paration of this edition at the solicitation of Professor Kluge ; that 
the book was ready for publication in 1914, when the war inter- 
vened ; and that the consequent delay has proved to be an advantage 
in bringing to his use the studies of Dr. Wild (Wiener Beitrage 
zur engl. Philologie 44, 1915, reviewed by Dr. Ekwall, Beiblatt zur 
Anglia 27, 164, 1916), and Dr. Bihl (Anglistische Forschungen 
50, 1916). A bibliographical list is given of the principal aids in 
the editor's effort to cancel (tilgen) das Veraltete und Verfehlte, 
and additional references of value are incidently given in the text, 
as, for example, to F. Eilers (p. 18), to Luick (p. 10, note 3), and 
especially to the editor's own extensive and important article on 
" Die neuengl. Verkiirzung langer Tonsilbenvokale " (Engl. Stud. 
50, 1916-17). On the other hand no disadvantage has been in- 
curred by references to unimportant or untrustworthy studies, such 
as Professor E. F. Shannon's examination of Chaucer's octosyllabic 
verse (J. of Engl. and Germ. Phil, xi, 277 ft 5 ., 1913). 

Since this Grammar first appeared, some thirty-six years ago, 
there has been an accumulation of references to it in the Chaucerian 
studies of a notably fruitful period; and in its peculiar supremacy 
it will surely long continue to be unrivalled. As revising editor 
Dr. Eckhardt has encouraged prophecy. But why has he over- 
looked the practical advantage of keeping the section-numbering 
in agreement thru all the editions and consequently thruout books 
and articles relating to Chaucer? The confusion is particularly 
disturbing in the complicated matter of the first chapter. Here 
the fyrst variation is occasioned by needlessly creating a new 16 
for matter that could have been differently placed. The new num- 
bers are now in excess by one, until 36 is passed. At this point 
the new numbers fall, behind the old by two (e. g. 37 equates 
with former 39) ; then at 43 this difference is reduced to one, 


but is again increased to two when former 97 is subordinated to 
become division & of 95. All this shuffling of the section-numbers 
should have been avoided, even at the cost of an occasional infelicity 
in the distributnon of the matter. 

The report of what is most changed in this new edition may, 
with advantage, be cited in Dr. Eckhardt's own words : " Verfehlt 
sind vor allem ten Brinks Lehre von den schwebenden Vokalen, 
und seine zahlreichen Ableitungen aus dem Niederlandischen und 
Niederdeutschen." One becomes aware at once, in 3 and 6, how 
the first of these subjects has exercised the care and resourcefulness 
of the editor. A foot-note to 3 is appropriately employed to 
announce the variation from the preceding editions; but one feels 
it to be inappropriate to refer to ten Brink in the third person (as 
on p. 10) within the text of his own book, and : this is rendered 
doubly unsuitable by ten Brink's occasional expression in the first 
person, as in 330, 331 (formerly 333, 334). The second cate- 
gory of changes has also required punctilious care. The method 
may be observed in comparing former 218 with the revised 215. 
Here the importation of gere from former 210, note, and the 
citation of recent conjectures exemplify the editor's endeavor to 
bring the book up to date. At many points thruout the book new 
citations and references make this endeavor manifest. However, 
reverting to 215, it would have been appropriate to record the 
troublesome gere of Blaunche 1257. This poem also calls to mind 
the omission, in all the editions of this Grammar, at 195 (198) 
of the pp. cude, which occurs in lines 787 and 998 of Blaunche in 
a usage (now dialectal) for which the NED. (s. v. can) has no 
citation before Lydgate. 

In 4 the capability of stress shown by the second syllable of 
worthy, singinge, frendshipe, is still left in mystery : " sei es bloss 
dem Metrum zu liebe, sei es auf Grund einer tiefer wurzelnden 
Tendenz der Sprache." This is a challenge, and Dr. Eckhardt's 
investigation (Engl. Stud. 50) should have prepared him to accept 
it, and to rewrite the paragraphs relating to one of the most char- 
acteristic laws of English utterance, the law of accentuation that 
effects the change in the quantity of the vowel of the first member 
of substantive compounds, and in the radical syllable of derivatives. 
The grammarians have long been transmitting an erroneous inter- 
pretation of these changes. Of this Dr. Eckhardt is aware, and 
promises the required correction at the beginning of his article 
(1. c. p. 201) : " Die meisten grammatiker erklaren die verkiirzung 
in wisdom, husband, whitsuntide und ahnlichen fallen aus der auf 
den tonsilbenvokal f olgenden doppelkonsonanz. In southern, na- 
tional, twopence, holiday usw. ist aber die verkiirzung ebenfalls 
eingetreden, obgleich hier nur einfache konsonanz vorliegt. . . . 
Die doppelkonsonanz kann also als grund der verkiirzung in wis- 
dom, husband, whitsuntide nur in zweiter reihe in betracht kom- 


men; deren eigentliche ursache muss eine andere sein, und zwar 
dieselbe wie in southern, national, twopence, holiday." To make 
this statement correct one must cancel ' nur in zweiter reihe ' ; but. 
Dr. Eckhardt inconsistently does not permit that,, as is shown in a 
later section (1. c. p. 276), where he attributes the short vowel of 
the first syllable of wisdom and husband solely to the ' doppel- 
konsonanz/ and accordingly allows this explanation to remain 
unchanged in 6 ft of the Grammar. This charge of inconsistency 
cannot be withdrawn, for Dr. Eckhardt is surely not to be sustained 
in restricting the effect of ' .double consonants ' to Middle English, 
and assuming other causes for the same effects in the subsequent 
periods of the language (1. c. p. 284). 

The true explanation of this process of back-shortening, as Sweet 
calls it, lies in the recognition of the secondary accent on the second 
member of substantive compounds and on certain derivative sylla- 
bles. This accent supplies the constant and adequately effective 
factor in the problem. At no period of rhythmic composition is 
this secondary accent without the effect of an inherent principle of 
the language; in prose-utterance the same is true, but less obvious 
to the unmethodical observer. The native categories of the sec- 
ondary accent are clearly brought to view in Anglo-Saxon versifica- 
tion ; and by following these categories thru the later periods of the 
language the demonstration of the announced proposition is made 
irrefutable by the revelation of that inherent law of English utter- 
ance which is the sufficient cause of back-shortening. This process 
set in apparently when the earlier accentuation of the language 
became less acute. The more grave accentuation favored an ap- 
proximate levelling of the adjacent accents (primary and sec- 
ondary) under a hovering or circumflex accent. The component 
parts of the word (with the two accents) were thus fused into a 
closer unity of utterance (the unity of the Sprechtakt) and shared 
in a redistribution of the accent of the word as a whole, with a 
consequent result of shortening or keeping short the vowels of the 
syllables which in mere parathesis would not have been changed. 

To be concrete, the former statement assumes all historic sec- 
ondary accents to be of equal or of adequate potency (under the 
prevailing fashion of grave accentuation) in effecting the discussed 
relation between the quantity of the vowels of simple words and the 
vowels of compounded and derived words. A few representative 
words, in Modern English form, will serve the purpose of the illus- 
tration: wisdom, friendship, husband, nothing, body, worthy, 
cleansing, holiday. The failure to recognize in the categories sug- 
gested the constant and adequate factor in back-shortening leads 
to the perpetuation of the inorganic divisions and classifications 
elaborated in 6 of this Grammar. The inconsistencies to which 
this tradition leads may also be conveniently observed in Professor 
Emerson's distinction between the ' weak ' final vowel of body and 


the strong secondary stress of redy, sory (A Middle English Reader, 
73, 77). It is the frequent lengthening of the consonant fol- 
lowing the shortened vowel that has given rise to the traditional 
error in this problem. A result has been mistaken for a cause. 
Deferring the argument in its details, it must serve the present 
purpose merely to add that the function assigned to the secondary 
word-accent in the process of back-shortening is to be inferred from 
the Chaucerian rhythms not to look beyond Chaucer; and that 
this inference is to be strengthened by correcting at many minor 
points the scansion of lines in the division of this Grammar devoted 
to versification, the division that Dr. Eckhardt has transmitted 
essentially without revision. 

As a whole this Grammar has been brought into somewhat .closer 
agreement with the present state of technical knowledge, and Dr. 
Eckhardt will be rewarded by the appreciative thanks of all serious 
students of Chaucer for what he has done to perpetuate the extra- 
ordinary usefulness of this book. An English version of this new 
edition is, however, not so much required .as a newly planned 
Chaucerian Grammar, supplying a more complete systematization 
of what scholars have contributed to the subject since ten Brink's 
day. J. w. B. 

Writing Through Reading, by Kobert M. Gay (Atlantic Monthly 
Press, 1920), is a frank recurrence to old-fashioned methods of 
teaching Ehglish composition the method of Euf us Choate, trans- 
lating the classics ; of Franklin, reproducing the essays in his odd 
volume of The Spectator; of Stevenson, playing the sedulous ape 
to a succession of masters. The reproduction of another's thought 
is not offered as a complete substitute for original composition. 
From one-half to one-third of a student's practice in writing, 
Professor Gay suggests, may profitably be spent in the use of 
" forms of reproduction " ; that is, translating, paraphrasing, con- 
densing, imitating prose, and imitating verse. To each of these 
forms the author devotes a brief chapter, accompanied by happily 
chosen exercises. 

The result is an exceedingly interesting book. Professor Gay's 
selections are made with such tact, and his comments are so read- 
able that the method which he advocates enjoys in his hands all 
the advantage of an attractive presentation. This is fortunate, for 
it is a method which at its best demands in the student a teachable 
and a patient spirit. Professor Gay's book may not be well adapted 
to use in a freshman class of a thousand. Yet there are classes 
which can use it profitably. We have got so far from the study 
and practice of what our fathers called belles lettres, and have so 
devoted ourselves to the notion that English is merely a tool where- 
with to do the business of life, that it is well for us to be recalled 


to the earlier point of view. Imitation and emulation are, after all, 
the methods by which every artist must begin. In devising exer- 
cises for the use of these methods in English classes, Professor Gay 
has performed a useful service. j. c. F. 

Mairet's Illustre Corsaire (1641). There has recently come into 
my possession an edition of this tragi-comedy which I do not find 
mentioned in any bibliographical work. The first edition, Paris, 
Courbe, 1640, 4to., is the only one named by Maupoint, de Beau- 
champs, La Valliere, Niceron and Soleinne. The freres Parfaict 
and Leris give merely the supposed date of representation, 1637. 
Mouhy, with his usual inaccuracy, dates the first edition both 1637 
(Theatre Frangois, I, 250) and 1640 (ibid., n, 214). Bizos in his 
dissertation on Mairet refers only to an edition of 1642, published 
by Courbe and Jonas de Brequigny. 

The edition that has been overlooked is entitled " L'ILLVSTRE / 


PARIS / Chez AVGVSTIN COURSE', Imprimeur / & Libraire de 
Monseigneur Frere dn Rpy, [du Roy] / dans la petite Salle du 
Palais, a la Palme. / M. DC. xxxxi." It begins, like the first edi- 
tion, with a dedicatory epistle, an advertissement, and a sonnet in 
honor of the duchesse d'Esguillon. It contains 104 pages. The 
dedicatory epistle and the verse throughout the volume are printed 
in italics. The type-page (measured, p. 75) is 12.70 by 6.80 centi- 
meters. The size and the fact that the wire-marks are perpen- 
dicular show that it is a 32mo., though the signatures are those of 
a 4to. 

In addition to slight changes of accentuation or spelling, i for y, 
z for s, etc., the following variants occur : " Que le simple entretien 
d'une escriture morte " (1640, p. 7) becomes " Que le silence entier 
d'une peinture morte" (1641, p. 16) ; "vos" (1640, p. 10, 1. 4) 
becomes "nos" (1641, p. 18, 1. 14) ; "augmentant" (1640, p. 47, 
1. 1), "augmente" (1641, p. 44, 1. 18) ; "bientost" (1640, p. 51, 
1. 6), "tantost" (1641, p. 47, 1. 14) ; "merveilles" (1640, p. 58, 
1. 2), "merveille" (1641, p. 52, 1. 10) ; " ennemis " (1640, p. 66, 
1. 18), "ennuis" (1641, p. 59, 1. 25); " et de l'im de Fautre " 
(1640, p. 83, 1. 7), "et de Fun et de 1'autre " (1641, p. 71, 1. 4) ; 
"sujet" (1640, p. 100, 1. 7), "besoin" (1641, p. 83, 1. 7); the 
speech of Ismene (1640, p. 49, 1. 9) is incorrectly assigned to 
Tenare (1641, p. 46, 1. 11) ; that of Evandre (1640, p. 112, 1. 1) 
to Erphore (1641, p. 91, 1. 4). The change of "ennemis" to 
" ennuis " is required by the meter ; the addition of " et " in the 
following case, by both meter and correct usage. 

H. C. L. 


VOLUME xxxvi MARCH, 1921 NUMBER 3 


With the exception of the plays of Goldsmith and Sheridan, The 
Clandestine Marriage was probably the best English comedy of the 
second half of the eighteenth century. Its authors were George 
Colman, the elder., and David Garrick, respectively one of the most 
widely known dramatists of his generation and one of the greatest 
actors that England has produced. The part each had in the 
writing of the play was in dispute even during their lives, and has 
remained in dispute until the present. It is my purpose to examine 
the evidence both internal and external that has any bearing upon 
the indebtedness of the play to each of its two authors, and to state 
the conclusions that can be drawn from such an examination. 

Since much of the discussion will pre-suppose familiarity with 
the details of this now slightly known play, it will be advisable to 
give a brief account of the plot : 

Fanny Sterling, the daughter of a rich city-merchant, has been 
clandestinely married to Lovewell, a worthy but impecunious kins- 
man of an amorous nobleman, Lord Ogleby. Sir John Melvil, a 
nephew of Lord Ogleby, and the lord himself accompanied by 
Canton, a Swiss valet, and Brush, another servant, arrive at the 
Sterling house to complete arrangements for Sir John's marriage 
with Miss Sterling, Fanny's elder sister. Unfortunately, Sir John, 
upon seeing Fanny, falls in love with her, and is discovered by the 
elder sister on his knees before her. The sister is naturally very in- 
dignant. Because of parental objection to Lovewell, it seems unwise 
to announce the marriage, even though Fanny is with child. Fanny 
and Lovewell decide that in order to warn Sir John, she should 
explain the whole aifair to Lord Ogleby. While she is telling Lord 



Ogleby the story, however, she is interrupted at a point which makes 
it seem to the lord that she is really in love with him. The denoue- 
ment comes when Lovewell is discovered in Fanny's room. The 
whole situation is cleared satisfactorily for Fanny and her husband. 
Other characters are Mrs. Heidelberg, the vulgar widowed sister of 
Sterling, a chambermaid, several lawyers, and Betty, Fanny's maid 
and confidante. 

The play was first produced at the Theatre-Eoyal in Drury Lane 
on February 20, 1766 ( [Genest, J.,] Some Account of the English 
Stage, from the Restoration in 1660 to 1830. In ten volumes. 
Bath, 1832. vol. v, pp. 92-3). It was later printed as by George 
Colman and David Garrick, with the motto on the title-page, 

Hue adhibe vultus, et in und parce duobus: 
Vivat, et ejusdem simus uterque parens! 

It was reviewed in The Critical Review, vol. xxi, pp. 221-225. 

The author of the article on The Clandestine Marriage in Bio- 
graphia Dramatica makes certain remarkable statements about the 
respective parts of Colman and Garrick in the play. He says, 
" We have usually heard that Garrick' s share of this piece was 
Lord Ogleby and the courtly family; and Colman's, Sterling and 
the city family. But the following was related to us by a gentle- 
man who declared that it was from the mouth of Mr. Colman 
himself ; ' Garrick composed two acts, which he sent to me, desiring 
me to put them together, or do what I would with them. I did 
put them together, for I put them into the fire, and wrote the play 
myself" (Biographia Dramatica; or a Companion to the Play- 
house . . . Originally compiled, to the year 1764, by David 
Erskine Baker, Continued thence to 1782, by Isaac Reed, F. A. S. 
And brought down to the End of November 1811 ... by Stephen 
Jones. In 3 volumes. London, 1812. vol. n, p. 106). In the 
discussion of False Concord, a farce by the Rev. James Towneley, 
acted at Covent Garden, March 20, 1764, and not printed, it is 
noted that " It is worthy of remark, that in this farce were three 
characters (Lord Lavender, Mr. Sudley an enriched soap-boiler, 
and a pert valet) which were afterwards transplanted, with the 
dialogue of some scenes, nearly verbatim, into The Clandestine 
Marriage (brought out two years afterwards), under the names of 
Lord Ogleby, Mr. Sterling, and Brush" (ib. p. 218). This alleged 
fact was disclosed by " Mr. Roberdeau in his Fugitive Verse and 


Prose, 1801; Mr. E. having married a daughter of the late Mr. 
Towneley" (*&.). 

When George Colman, the younger, in 1820, published in Lon- 
don Posthumous Letters from Various Celebrated Men; Addressed 
to Francis Colman, and George Colman, the Elder, he did not 
allow such statements as these to pass unchallenged. In the 
Addenda to his volume he printed a defence of his father which 
included in his father's handwriting a document submitted to 
David Garrick apparently before the play was begun. In this 
document, Colman suggests numerous details concerning both 
characters and plot. 

In his discussion of the characters, Colman first of all suggests 
that the Earl of Oldsap to be played by Garrick should be an 
old Lord who thinks every woman in love with him. Because of 
this belief he ogles at every woman he meets. Colman completes 
his remarks about the earl with this significant statement : " But 
this notion you are more fully possest of than I " (Posthumous 
Letters, p. 334). He then mentions as the other characters, Lord 
Sapplin, son of the Lord; Traffick, a rich city merchant, anxious 
to be thought "generous and genteel, w c ^ serves more effectually 
to expose his Bourgeoise manners " ; Lovewell " privately married 
to Miss Bride warm, and sensible " [it will be noted that Colman 
sometimes substitutes for the names of the characters the names 
of the actors who were to play the parts, J. M. B.] ; " Mrs. Clive, 
Kennedy, or Bradshaw Sister to Traffick and something of the 
same character in Petticoats only that he is rough & hearty in 
his manner, & she affects to be delicate & refined. Her dialect is 
particularly vulgar, aiming at the same time to be fine, not by 
murdering words in the slip-slop way, but by a mean twang in the 
pronunciation, as Qualaty famaly, &c": "Miss Pope eldest 
daughter to Traffick, a keen smart girl, full of spirit, sense, wit, 
humour, mischief, & malice " : " Miss Bride youngest daughter to 
Traffick, a sensible girl, of a soft & amiable temper, not without 
proper spirit." 

Turning from the characters, Colman proceeds to make a rough 
draught of the general scheme of the play : " A Treaty of Mar- 
riage is supposed to be set on foot between the Court and City 
Family, in wch it is intended that Lord Sapplin, Garrick's Son, 
shall be married to Miss Pope, eldest daughter to Traffick; It 


happens, however, that the young Lord has contracted a violent 
affection for Miss Bride, who is before the beginning of this play 
clandestinely married to Lovewell. The efforts made by Lord 
Sapplin to bring about his match with Miss Bride, instead of Miss 
Pope the perplexities arising therefrom to the young Couple, 
Lovewell and Miss Bride the growing jealousy, & malicious 
artifices of Miss Pope & then naturally involving the old Earl 
(Garrick) in circumstances tending to shew his character -together 
with the part w ch Traffick & his Sister may naturally take in this 
affair to make up the Story of the Play." 

Colman comments upon the fact that he is simply making a 
sketch of his plan, that his purpose is "merely to enable you to 
think in the same train with me: & that you may be still better 
acquainted with the stuff of my thoughts., I have here subjoined 
some loose hints of Acts, Scenes, manner of conducting the Story, 
of shewing the characters to advantage, &c '" (ib. p. 336). He 
suggests that perhaps the plot might be still further " pleasantly 
embarrassed by introducing a character (a good one) openly in- 
tended to be married to Miss Bride." The result of this plan he 
believes would be to make the situation of Lovewell and Miss Bride 
more difficult and would direct Miss Pope's jealousy to the wrong 

In quoting Colman's hints for the Acts and Scenes, I shall 
italicize the details that were incorporated in the finished play. In 
Act I he wishes to let the audience know (1) of the marriage and 
(2) of Lord Sapplin's attachment to Bride instead of to his in- 
tended wife [inserted in Act II]. He suggests that this will best 
be done and Lovewell will be raised somewhat above the others 
if the latter is made a relative, perhaps nephew of the earl. Because 
of this relationship the young lord will the more naturally make 
him his confidant. Furthermore, the old earl could be shown 
dressing [inserted in Act II], "& he might speak of himself 
hold his son cheap as a man of gallantry talk of what he c d do 
with the women that even now all the family are more in love 
with him, &c, &c a short lawyer scene (a la Hogarth} with some 
family-strokes on mortgages, settlements &c might perhaps be in- 
troduced [inserted in Act III]. // the City Family are at all 
produced in this Act, they may be supposed in expectation of the 
arrival of the Lords Preparations making on all hands Traffick 


talking of his venison, turbot, pine-apples, &c. His sister on 
tenterhooks to receive persons of famaly & Miss Pope's Elevation 
& Pride ab* her nolle match, & contempt of her sister &c " (ib. 
p. 338). 

For Act II, Colman suggests that the Lords should have arrived 
between Acts I and II, and that in Act II, Scene I, Oldsap be 
shown with the women. A humorous scene might be produced by 
having Traffick show his garden and remark upon the modern 
improvements in it. Colman says, " You will not find many mate- 
rials for this in y r own garden at Hampton; but you may among 
y r neighbors." Lord Sapplin might find a chance to make a decla- 
ration to Miss Bride she will speak of the indelicacy of his trans- 
ferring his attentions to her, and will not encourage him. Miss 
Pope is to be aroused to jealousy by some incident and will then 
become incensed against both Lord Sapplin and her sister. 

At the beginning of his remarks upon Act III, Colman says, 
" N. B. Though I mark the acts thus, I by no means w d suggest 
to you that I have here planned out anything like the form of the 
business of the Play " (ib. p. 339). He suggests that Lovewell and 
Miss Bride shall decide that since Lord Oldsap apparently has taken 
a kindly interest in her, she should tell him of Lord Sapplin's 
attentions and also of her marriage. While she is telling the first 
part, she becomes embarrassed, and leaving without a full confes- 
sion, leads him to think when she says her affections are elsewhere, 
that she is in love with him. Miss Pope may complain to him of 
Lord Sapplin and Miss Bride, but in that case Lord Oldsap will 
deny this and say he can tell her where Miss Bride's affections fare 
placed. Colman believes that if the character intended to be mar- 
ried to Miss Bride were now introduced, he might be used as a tool 
by Miss Pope if she should tell him of the wrong that was being 
planned against her, and should ask him to counteract the plot. 
Miss Bride and Lovewell agree that Lovewell shall now tell Lord 
Oldsap of the marriage, but before he can get fully under way, Lord 
Oldsap confesses his love for Miss Bride. Lord Oldsap is to break 
the whole matter to the family, by speaking to Traffic's sister, who 
first thinks he is making love to her. When she finds she is mis- 
taken, she treats him with contempt. 

Colman ends his paper by remarking, " Of the Denouement I 
have not as yet even conceived those imperfect ideas I have got of 


some other parts. Think of the whole, & think in my train, if it 
appears worth while, & when you have thrown yr thoughts on paper, 
as I have done mine, we will lay our heads together, Brother 

The younger Colman believed that it was after a consultation 
with Garrick that his father wrote the latter part of the following 
Loose Hints of Act V : 

" Scene of Sterling, Ogleby, lawyers &c on filling up blanks, & 
settling all the clauses of the settlement disputes arise, & Sterling 
agst both matches, declaring that he will not marry his family into 
a Chancery suit in the midst of their disputes enter Miss Sterling 
laughing immoderately, & brings in Betty trembling, who, being 
interrogated discovers the whole of the Clandestine Marriage. 


" Lovewell, & Fanny, & Betty in Fanny's apartment Betty may 
tell them that M rs Lettice has been pumping her Lovewell tells 
Fanny that finding the misconstruction of Ld. 0., he was just 011 
the point of explanation when Sir John appeared but that he will 
certainly break it the next morning to Sir John & this night shall 
conclude her anxieties on the clandestine marriage (sc. 2). An- 
other apartment, Miss Sterling & M" H. in their night-cloaths 
[sic] to them Lettice, who tells them she has been on the watch, 
& saw a man go into Miss Fanny's room They immediately con- 
clude it to be Sir John & Miss Sterling resolves to expose her 
sister & Sir John the family alarmed various night figures 
Betty brought in trembling, who discovers the whole affair then 
Lovewell & at length Fanny, who being pardoned, Sir John's match 
breaks off, & the piece concludes by Sterling & Ogleby both joining 
in good humour about Fanny & Lovewell" (ib. pp. 343-4). 

From even a most casual comparison of the completed play with 
the notes sent by Colman to Garrick, it is evident that whichever 
author wrote the first three acts, Colman was responsible for the 
early part of the plot in almost every respect. In Act I, Fanny 
and Betty let the audience into the secret at once. Lovewell is 
made a kinsman of Lord Ogleby. The Sterling family is pre- 
paring to receive the distinguished guests. Sterling, as pre- 
arranged, discusses the food for his dinner : " But, pray, sister 
Heidelberg, let the turtle be drest to-morrow, and some venison; 
and let the gardener cut some pine-apples, and get out some ice. 
I'll answer for wine, I warrant you : I'll give them such a glass of 
Champagne as they never drank in their lives ; no, not at a duke's 


table" (The Dramatick [sic] Works of George Colman. In four 
volumes, London, 1777. Vol. i, p. 179). 

The characters of Mrs. Heidelberg, Miss Sterling, and Lord 
Ogleby as elaborated in Act I and the following acts are simply 
amplifications of Colman's notes. When Mrs. Heidelberg speaks 
to the housekeeper, Mrs. Trusty, about the anticipated arrival of 
the guests, she says, " Oh, here, Trusty ; do you know that people 
of qualaty are expected this evening?" (ib. p. 175). Or, again, 
she says to Fanny, " Go, child ! you know the qualaty will be here 
by and by ; go, and make yourself a little more fit to be seen \exit 
Fanny}. She is gone away in tears; absolutely crying, I vow and 
pertest. This ridicalous love ! We must put a stop to it. It make? 
a perfect nataral of the girl " (ib. p. 177). Miss Sterling, thinking 
of her marriage with Sir John, makes her sister exceedingly un- 
comfortable : " My heart goes pit-a-pat at the very idea of being 
introduced at court : gilt chariot ! pye-balled horses ! laced liveries ! 
and then the whispers buzzing round the circle! Who is she? 
' Lady Melvil, Ma'am ! ' Lady Melvil ! my ears tingle at the sound 
... if Mr Lovewell and you come together, as I doubt not you will, 
you will live very comfortably, I dare say . . . perhaps I may meet 
you in the summer with some other citizens at Tunbridge. For 
my part, I shall always entertain a proper regard for my relations : 
You shan't want my countenance, I assure you" (ib. pp. 174-5). 
Miss Sterling's characterization of Ogleby is even more strikingly 
like Colman's notes : " He is full of attention to the ladies, and 
smiles, and grins, and leers, and ogles, and fills every wrinkle in 
his old wizen face with comical expressions of tenderness. I think 
ke would make an admirable sweetheart" (ib. pp. 178-9). 

The only suggestions not utilized in this act are those of having 
a lawyer-scene and of showing the old earl dressing. It is inter- 
esting, however, that the former is used in Act III and the latter 
in Act II. The arrival of the lord's servant at the end of Act I 
prepares for the arrival of the guests between acts as suggested by 

At the beginning of Act II the original plan was modified by 
the introduction of a servant-scene in Lord Ogleby's ante-chamber, 
followed by the appearance of the lord himself. The plan is 
further modified by Sir John's telling Lovewell that upon visiting 
his room early in the morning he had found it empty. This scene, 


as anticipatory to Act V was in all probability suggested by Garrick. 
After the garden-scene, Sir John admits to Lovewell his love for 
Fanny, and failing to induce Lovewell to convey a letter to her 
from him, was in the act of declaring his love to Fanny herself 
when Miss Sterling discovered him. This scene gave the occasion 
that Colman desired to arouse Miss Sterling to jealousy. 

The lawyer-scene suggested for Act I was inserted in Act III. 
Mrs. Heidelberg was made a more prominent figure by emphasizing 
the power she wielded in the family by reason of her money. The 
relations between Mrs. Heidelberg and the others in the group take 
up most of this act. 

The suggestions made by Colman for Act III, in regard to the 
complications among Fanny, Lovewell, and Lord Ogleby were fol- 
lowed finally in Act IV, and carried oi:t to the letter. The matter 
is further complicated by the request that Lord Ogleby makes to 
Sterling for his daughter's hand. 

It is noteworthy that the first suggestions for Act V were not 
used, except in part for Act IV, and that the last suggestions were 
followed in the main. The order of disclosure was altered some- 
what, however. Betty came out of Fanny's room first, but did not 
confess. She was followed by Fanny and finally by Lovewell. 

From a survey of the internal evidence it is apparent, therefore, 
that Colman was responsible for the basic characterization of most 
of the chief dramatis personae, including Lord Ogleby, and also 
for the most important details of the first four acts. For more 
specific information we must turn to external evidence. 

George Colman, the younger, suggests the method which his 
father and Garrick followed in their collaboration : " The probable, 
process was, that they consulted, first, as to the general plan, and, 
secondly, as to the conduct of the incidents and scenes ; then wrote 
separately and then compared and modified, together, what each 
had composed " (Posthumous Letters, p. 333). He states, further- 
more, that his father had told him Garrick did not write all of 
Lord Ogleby, that, for instance, Colman wrote the whole of Lord 
Ogleby's first scene. This evidence is important, as coming from 
Colman's son, but his last statement, as we shall see later, is con- 
troverted by one of his father's own letters. 

The elder Colman's letters from Garrick give considerable infor- 
mation in regard to the progress of the play and the methods of 


collaboration. The Clandestine Marriage was apparently well under 
way as early as 1763, for in December of that year Garrick wrote 
from Naples to Colman, "I have not yet written a word of the 
fourth or fifth acts of ' The Clandestine Marriage/ but I am think- 
ing much about it " (Peake, E. B., Memoirs of the Colman Family, 
including their Correspondence with the most distinguished Per- 
sonages of their time. In two volumes. London, 1841, vol. I, p. 
93). This reference would place the date of Colman's notes at 
least three months before the first production of False Concord on 
March 20, 1764, and should dispose of the charge of plagiarism as 
far as the conception of Lord Ogleby is concerned. It is also 
significant that Garrick was abroad at the time of the first pro- 
duction of False Concord. He wrote to Colman from Kome, April 
11, 1764, a very intimate letter in which he said about The Clan- 
destine Marriage, " Speed your plough, my dear friend ; have you 
thought of ' The Clandestine Marriage '? I am at ft*' (ib. p. 102). 
Since Garrick continued abroad during 1764, it is improbable that 
his part of the play could have been plagiarized. Furthermore, it 
is probable that had any great part of it been filched from another 
work, the borrowing would have been exposed at once instead of a 
half-century later. In a letter from Paris, dated November 10, 
1764, Garrick says, " Did you receive my letter about our Comedy? 
I shall begin, the first moment I find my comic ideas return to me, 
to divert myself with scribbling; say something to me upon that 
subject. I have considered our three acts, and with some little 
alterations they will do; I will ensure them" (ib. p. 126). 

If we may judge from these letters and from the length of time 
that elapsed between the inception and completion of the play, it 
would seem probable that neither author was burningly enthusiastic 
about his task. By September 24, 1765, however, the work was 
nearing an end. On that date, Doctor Hoadly, in a letter to 
Garrick, says, " I am pleased to hear that Mr. Colman's Comedy, 
two acts of which you shewed me at Hampton some years ago, is 
in such forwardness, as I found, by his talk at his own house last 
winter that he had not worked any farther upon it; I did not let 
him know I had seen any part of it, or was privy to the scheme, 
which surely is a good one. God bless you both " (ib. pp. 156-7). 

From the beginning, it would seem that Colman expected 
Garrick to play the part of Lord Ogleby. For some reason, how- 


ever, when the play was completed, the great actor refused to 
undertake the part. Thomas Davies, Garrick's friend and bio- 
grapher, attributed his change of mind to his advanced age and 
his frequent attacks of the gout and stone (Davies, T., Memoirs 
of the Life of David Garrick, Esq. ... a new Edition in two 
volumes. London, 1808, vol. u, p. 102). Tate "Wilkinson, the 
actor, said that Garrick wrote the part of Lord Ogleby before he 
went to Italy. When he returned, he decided not to play that part, 
both because of his health and also because, " if he himself should 
play Lord Ogleby, it would lead into applications from authors to 
request his performing in their pieces; to prevent which, he had 
come to a determination not to study any new character whatever, 
and desired Mr. King would do the part " (Wilkinson, T., Memoirs 
of his Own Life. In four volumes, York, 1790, vol. in, p. 254). 
At first King would not take the role, but he was at last persuaded. 
Wheru he recited part of a scene to Garrick in a tremulous voice, 
" Garrick was all astonished, and thundered out, ' By G d, King, 
if you can but sustain that fictitious manner and voice throughout, 
it will be one of the greatest performances that ever adorned a 
British theatre " (ib. p. 255). Peake, the biographer of the 
Colmans, says that Garrick was unwilling to study a new part, and 
hints that it may have been because of a resemblance between Lord 
Ogleby and Lord Chalkstone in Garrick's own play, Lethe. He 
suspects that a meddler carried to Garrick some remarks made by 
Colman upon his collaborator as a manager (Peake, op. cit. vol. i, 
p. 157). 

Whatever was the cause of Garrick's refusal to play the part of 
Lord Ogleby, his failure to fulfill Colman's expectations brought 
about a break between the two friends. On November 9, 1765, 
James Clutterbuck, writing to Garrick, says, 

Colman and you are men of most quick sensations, and are apt 
sometimes to catch at words instead of things, and those very words 
may probably receive great alterations by the medium through 
which they pass. I know you love one another, and a third person 
might call up such explanations as would satisfy ye both ; I myself 
should not doubt being able to do it were we assembled together. 
He had communicated his griefs (but no acrimony, I assure you) 
before your letters came and I commiserate his disappointment. 
Had I not been in the secret of the joint enterprise I suppose he 
would not have opened his mouth to me ; but being so, the comedy 


was read to my Molly and me last Wednesday night, and our con- 
cern, for that it is not likely to be finished and represented, equalled 
the delight we had in hearing the piece: I cannot help thinking 
there is but one person in the world capable of playing Lord Ogleby, 
et hinc illae Lachrymae ! but who can help it ? " ( The Private Cor- 
respondence of David Garrick with the Most Celebrated Persons of 
his Time; ... In two volumes. London, 1831, vol. I, pp. 206-7). 

The most interesting evidence both in regard to this quarrel and 
in regard to the authorship of The Clandestine Marriage is to be 
found in a letter written by Colman to Garrick, December 4, 1765. 
It corroborates in every detail the conclusions drawn from the 
play itself: > 

Since my return from Bath I have been told, but I can hardly 
believe it, that, in speaking of ' The Clandestine Marriage/ you 
have gone so far as to say, ' Colman lays a great stress on his 
having written this character on purpose for me, suppose it should 
come out that I wrote it! ' That the truth should come out is my 
earnest desire ; but I should be extremely sorry, for your sake, that 
it should come out by such a declaration from you. Of all men in 
the world, I believe I may venture to say that I should be one of 
the last to take any thing to myself of which I was not the author 
. . . but you know that it was not I, but yourself, who desired 
secrecy in relation to our partnership, and you may remember the 
reasons you gave for it. You know, too, that on the publication of 
the play the whole affair was to come out, and that both our names 
were to appear together on the title-page. ... In your letter to 
Clutterbuck . . . you tell him, ' that you had formed a plan of a 
comedy called The Sisters; that if the piece did not succeed, you 
had promised to take your part, with the shame that might belong 
to it, to yourself/ I cannot quote the words of your letter, but I 
am sure I have not misrepresented the purport of it, though the 
whole is diametrically opposite to my notion of the state of the 
partnership subsisting between us. You have the plan of ' The 
Sisters ' by you ; read it, and see if there are in it any traces of the 
story of ' The Clandestine Marriage/ You returned me the rough 
draught which I drew out of that story, and thinking it might be 
of use in conducting the plot I happened to preserve it : let them 
be compared, and see what is the resemblance between them. The 
first plate of Hogarth's ' Marriage a la Mode ' was the ground I 
went upon : I had long wished to see those characters on the stage, 
and mentioned them as proper objects of comedy, before I had the 
pleasure of your acquaintance, in a letter written expressly in your 
defence against the attacks of your old arch enemy Shirley. . . . 
I understood it was to be a joint work, in the fullest sense of the 


word; and never imagined that either of us was to lay his finger 
on a particular scene, and cry, ' This is mine ! ' It is true, indeed, 
that by your suggestion, Hogarth's proud lord was converted into 
Lord Ogleby, and that, as the play now stands, the levee-scene, at 
the beginning of the second act, and the whole of the fifth act, are 
yours : but in the conduct as well as dialogue of the fourth act, I 
think your favourite, Lord Ogleby, has some obligations to me " 
(The Private Correspondence of David Garrick, vol. I, pp. 209-210). 

In Garrick's reply to this letter there is no attempt to deny 
Colman's assertions. Soon, however, the quarrel was over. On the 
one hand, the^ actor was able to prove to Colman's satisfaction that 
he had not intended to injure him ; on the other hand, Colman was 
reconciled to the thought of having King take the part of Lord 
Ogleby. In less than three months after this letter was written, 
the play was on the stage. 

From an examination of the preceding evidence certain facts 
are clear. In the first place, the story that Colman burned 
Garrick^s manuscript is absurd. There is absolutely no indication 
of friction between the men before the play was finished. Had 
Colman been guilty of such an outrage there would undoubtedly 
have been some mention ' of it in their correspondence. In the 
next place, as has been suggested, the charge of plagiarism falls 
to the ground (1) because Garrick was not in London during the 
production of False Concord (2) because Colman's plans for the 
play were conceived before False Concord was produced, and (3) 
because contemporary writers were silent in regard to any hint of 

In regard to the play itself it is evident that the draft which 
has been quoted and that mentioned in Colman's letter of December 
4, 1765, are one and the same, and that the conception of The 
Clandestine Marriage as a whole must be credited to Colman. The 
characters, also, with the exception of the Swiss valet, Canton, and 
his comrade Brush, owe their individuality largely to him. 

The evidence all points toward Garrick's authorship of Act V 
and the levee-scene in Act II. If he was the author of these 
portions of the play, it is probable that he was at least largely 
concerned in the other scenes where Ogleby and Canton appear. 
Their dialogue is so distinctive and so unvarying that it could not 
well have been written by two hands. Apparently Garrick had 
more share in writing Act IV than he had had in writing the 


preceding acts, but it is clear from the letter of December 4 and a 
comparison of the play with the draft, that Colman should be 
given credit for much of the ground-work. Because of its con- 
nection with Act V, we may assume that the scene in which Melvil 
rallies Lovewell for his nocturnal wanderings is due largely to 

Further than this we cannot go. It would not be safe to assume 
that every departure from Colman's early plan is traceable to the 
superior stagemanship of Garrick. Act V, it is true, is the best 
act in the play, but Garrick was always at his best in short flights. 
Unlike Colman, he had not written any long original plays: he 
delighted in sketches, in re-workings, in short adaptations. Yet 
in spite of these facts, in those portions of the play where there has 
been a definite shifting of scenes for dramatic effect, it is probable 
that Garrick's brain, if not his pen, was the determining factor in 
the change. 


Goucher College. 


In Dr. Chandler's bibliography of romances of roguery, he cites 
among the early editions in French of the Lazarillo de Tormes one 
dated "1660, Paris, Cotinet (Luna's)." 1 The title-page of this 
edition reads: LA VIDA DEL (sic) LAZAKILLO DE TORMES, y de sus 
fortunas y adversidades. LA VIE DE LAZARILLE DE TORMES, Et de 
ses infortunes & aduersitez. Reueue & corrigee par H. DE LUNE, 
natif de Castille, Interprete de la Langue Espagnolle. Et traduite 
en Frangois par L. S. D. A Paris, Chez ARNOVD COTINET, rue des 
Cannes, au petit Jesus. MDCLX. 

The Spanish text, which, according to the title-page, purports 
to be Luna's emended version of 1620, is printed on the left-hand 
pages of the book, the French rendering appearing opposite, on 
the right-hand pages. That the Spanish text as it appears here 
is the original from which the French translation was made is 
evident from the exactness with which the t\vo correspond. But 

1 F. W. Chandler, Romances of Roguery, New York, 1899, part I, p. 406. 



that it is not, in Part I, the text of Juan de Luna's version, the 
following comparison will show. Out of a large number of dis- 
crepancies, a few of the most striking selected from the first pages 
of Tractado Primero, are here set forth. 


iCuenta el Lazaro su vida y quien 
era su padre. (Sub-title.) 

Pues sepa V. M. ante todas cosas, 
que (p. 10). 

. . . los llama bienavanturados 
(sic) (p. 12). 

. . . metiase a guisar (p. 14) 


. . . y limpiaba la ropa (p. 14) . 

. . . ella y un hombre Moreno ( p. 

. . . aquillos (sic) que las bestias 
curauan (p. 14). 

. . . vinieron en oonoacimiento. (p. 

. . . entraua se en la casa. (p. 14) . 

Yo al principio de su entrada 
pesaua me con el, y auia le miedo 
viendo el color y mal gesto que 
tcnia: (p. 14). 

...mas de que vi que (p. 14). 

. . . mi madre vinose a darme ( p. 

. . . huya del con miedo para mi 
madre (p. 16). 

Eespondienrfo el riendo, (p. 16). 

. . . (que assi se llamaua) (p. 16). 

... : y hecha presquisa (sic) (p. 

. . . porque el vno hurra (sic) de 
los pobres (p. 18). 

. . . y para ayuda de otro tanto (p. 

. . . como nino respondia y descu- 
bria quanto sabia con miedo; (p. 

. . . servir a los que al presente 
biuian en el meson (p. 18). 

(No chapter division.) (p. 20). 


En que Lazaro cuenta cuyo hijo 


. . . llama a los tales bienaven- 

. . . pusose a guisar 

. . . y a labar la ropa 
. . . ella y un negro 

. . . los que en la caualleriea 

. . . trauaro (sic) estrecha amis- 


. . . al principio pesaua me dello 
por el miedo que del tenia viendo 
su color, y mal gesto: 

. . . mas quando vi que 
. . . mi madre me dio 

. . . huya del de miedo y temor 

. . . : el riendo le llamo 

. . . que assi se llamaua el negro 

. . . y hecha pesquisa del caso 

... si vno hurta a los pobrea 

. . . como nifio con el miedo descu- 
bria, quanto sabia 

. . . servir al meson 

CAP. SEGUNDO Como Lazaro se 
puso a servir, y a destrar vn ciego. 


. . . ella me encomendo a el ( p. ... ella sin dificultad me puso 

20 ) . con el 

...que ella confiaua eu Dios (p. . . . que confiaua en Dios 
20). tratasse bien (p. 20). tratasse bien 


. . . pareciendole a mi amo ( p. 20 ) . ... donde pareciendole 

. . . a su contento (p. 20) . ... segun su deseo 

. . . y ambos llorando ( p. 20, 22 ) . ... que llorando con mi 

Y assi me fuy para mi amo, que . . . Y assi me fuy a donde mi amo 

esperandome estaua. (p. 22). esperandome estaua. 

. . . y llegando a la puente, esta a ... a la entrada de cuya puente 

la entrada della un animal (p. 22). esta un animal 
Y el ciego mando me que legasse Y mandome el ciego llegase cerca 

cerca del animal y alii puesto me del, y haziendo lo, me dixo: 

dixo: (p. 22). 

The italics in the foregoing quotations are points at which a 
slight difference is noted between the Spanish text given by L. S. D. 
and the text of the first edition as restored by M. Foulche'-Delbosc. 2 
Five or six more of the same kind, mostly differences of spelling, 
are to be found in the pages from which these quotations are taken. 
But, with these exceptions, the text corresponds exactly with that 
of Foulche'-Delbosc. On the other hand, these thirty quotations, 
taken from the first seven pages only of the translator's text, can 
be multiplied many times in the rest of Part i, and show so great 
a variance as to make it evident that the translator did not use 
Juan de Luna's version. 

The text under consideration shows the following further differ- 
ences from the Luna text : The Prologue is entirely wanting ; and 
the chapter divisions and sub-titles peculiar to the Luna version 
are all omitted. The chapter on Lazaro's friendship with certain 
Germans, which forms the concluding chapter of nearly all the 
editions of the original text from 1561 on, is also the last chapter 
of Part i of this edition. 

Part ii of the translated text is undoubtedly Juan de Luna's. 
It may be this that accounts for his name on the title-page. 


The Ohio State University. 

* La Vida de Lazarillo de Tormes, Restitucidn de la edicidn principe, por 
R. Foulche'-Delbosc, Madrid, 1900. 


It is well known that here and there in the Divine Comedy, tho 
not with the invariability and symmetry usually characteristic of 
his technique, Dante's love of symbolism and double significance 
has moulded even his rime. The most familiar instance of this, 
no doubt, is the word Cristo, which, on the four occasions of its 
occurrence as the rime-word, is permitted to rime only with itself. 1 
Then there are the two pairs of passages, noted by Professor 
Grandgent in his edition of the Divina Commedia, in which like- 
ness of rime draws our attention to similarity of sense: the rimes 
in -uri which connect the blasphemers Vanni Fucci of Inferno, 
xxv, 2 and Capaneus of Inferno, xiv, 3 and those in -eda which, 
relate the prophecy in Purgatorio, xx, 4 to the one in Purgatorio, 


In addition to these, we may note a connection between the 
maledetto lupo riming with cupo, addressed to Plutus as repre- 
sentative of Avarice in the Fourth Circle of the Inferno, 6 and the 
maledetta . . . lupa riming with cupa, likewise addressed to 
Avarice on the Fifth Shelf of Purgatory ; 7 and it is to be observed 
that these latter lines alternate precisely with those ending in -eda 
already cited from Purgatorio, xx. There is also the singular 
repetition of the two rime-words tarda and riguarda used with 
Piccarda in Purgatorio, xxiv, 8 which we find in the other passage in 
which the name of Foresees good and beautiful sister falls upon the 
rime. 9 

And since there is so little in Dante that comes by chance, it 
may even not be meticulous to remark the number of times that 
these rime-clues, if it be not overbold to call them such, occupy the 
same respective lines in different cantos: thus in Purgatorio, xx, 
and Inferno, xxv, the verses involved are 11-13-15 ; in Inferno, vn, 

1 Par., xn, 71-73-75; 3OV, 104-106-108; xrx, 104-106-198; xix, 104-106- 
198; xxxn, 83-85-87. 

'Inf., xxv, 11-13-15. 3 Inf., xiv, 44-46-48. 

4 Purg., xx, 11-13-15. 5 Purg., xxxm, 35-37-39. 

"Inf., vn, 8-10-12. ' Purg., xx, 8-10-12. 

'Purg., xxrv, 8-10-12. "Par., m, 47-49-51. 



and Purgatorio, xx and xxiv, 8-10-12 ; and in Paradiso, xiv and 
xix, 104-106-108. In only two cases, however, does this identity 
of line-numbers occur in any couple of parallel passages supposed 
to be so connected with each other; that is, in the last, two men- 
tioned, which are two of the four Cristo passages, and in the lupo- 
lupa pair. 

Although there are several sets of evidently associated passages 
where there is no such clue to be found in the rimes, still these 
instances suggest that in the attempt to establish another such 
association, a similarity in the rime-scheme would contribute a 
small bit of supporting evidence. This has apparently been over- 
looked by Mr. J. C. Carroll in developing his interesting hypothesis 
that the donna santa -e presta who prompts Virgil to dispel the 
vision of the Siren on the Shelf of Sloth 10 (usually identified with 
the virtu che consiglia of the preceding canto 11 ), is none other 
than Matelda, the girlish genius of the Earthly Paradise, whose 
cheerful innocent activity is the best weapon against that melan- 
cholia or neurasthenia which is Sloth, as well as against the sins of 
the flesh typified by the Siren. Mr. CarrolFs statement of his 
theory is as follows : 12 

As symbol of the Active Life, it would be natural that she should rebuke 
this sin of Sloth, and the sins she leads to. In his picture of her in the 
Earthly Paradise, Dante seems to contrast her, point by point, with the 
deformed faculties and members of the other. Her tongue is singing 
Delectasti. Venus herself could not outshine the light of her "honest 
eyes." He remembers her feet and the movements of them, as of a lady in 
a dance. Her hands were picking flowers; and her colour was that of 
" one who warms herself in rays of love." One by one the stammering 
tongue and eyes asquint, the distorted feet and maimed hands and pallid 
colour are reversed, as if intentionally. And finally, it is surely strong 
corroboration of this view that the very word " alert " ( presta ) ... is 
expressly applied to Matelda." 

What Mr. Carroll has omitted to note is that the word presta 
actually falls upon the rime in both passages, so that the linking 
rime in -esta?* marking another of such pairs of associated 

19 Purg., xix, 26. u Purg., xvin, 62. 

"John S. Carroll, Prisoners of Hope, an Exposition of Dante's Purga- 
tory, London, Hodder and Stoughton, 1906, p. 251. 
11 Pur g., xxviii, 83. 
14 Purg., xix, 26-28-30, and xxvrn, 83-85-87. 



passages, is perhaps a further corroboration of his theory. And 
the curious may still further observe that the second set of presta 
rimes occupies the same respective lines in the canto (83-85-87) 
as does the last set of Cristo rimes/ 5 thus making another small 
link in the delicate chain. 


University of Minnesota. 


Throughout most of the Seventeenth Century, the Stationers' 
Company of London held a virtual monopoly of the book-trade by 
controlling practically all of the licensed presses. Copyright con- 
sisted of entry in their Register; only a member of the company 
might enter a book; and the object was to protect, not the author, 
but the printer who, by virtue of this entry, "owned" the copy- 
right. An author could get protection only, as did Wither, by 
a special grant of letters patent from the crown. Thus, in due 
course, various members of the "Worshipful Company" had 
become the "proprietors" in perpetuity of most of the English 
classics not to mention Homer, Virgil and Horace and bought 
and sold rights and shares which they had commonly obtained 
without either paying the author or getting his consent. In 1694, 
however, the Licensing Act of Charles II finally expired; and, 
from that time, the guild had to defend its privileges, not through 
a monopoly of presses, but through a monopoly of publishing, 
enforced by a refusal to sell works not properly entered under the 
name of one or more of the Company's numbers. This method 
was fairly effective ; but what the booksellers really wanted was an 
Act of Parliament to give legal finality to their case. In 1703, 
1706, and 1709, they petitioned for a bill ; and the final result was 
the famous Copyright Act of Queen Anne (8 Anne c 19/5). 
Swift is supposed to have made the original draft; and the title 
suggests that it was not quite what the booksellers themselves would 
have drawn up: An Act for the Encouragement of Learning by 
Vesting Copies of Printed Books in the Authors. Any one might, 

u Purg., xxvm, 83-85-87, and Par., xxxn, 83-85-87. 


without fee, copyright an original book; but nine copies had to be 
given, one to the King's Library, one to the Stationers Company, 
one to Sion College, and one to each of the two English and the 
four Scotch universities. These copies had to be delivered under 
rather light penalties; and, in case of failure to comply, prosecu- 
tion had to begin within three months. The copyright was vested 
in the author or his assigns for fourteen years with the right of 
extension to twenty-eight. 1 

This law took from the booksellers the old monopoly of registry, 
placed upon them the burden of dispensing nine copies of each 
book gratis, and, in return, gave them no protection. Their conse- 
quent evasion of it is eloquently set forth in an obscure tract 
attributed to Edmund Law, Bishop of Carlyle 2 : 

Under this act, very few books of value have been obtained [by 
Cambridge University], the Booksellers being determined not to 
lose so many Copies of the largest Paper, 3 as this Act requires to 
be delivered and chusing rather to forfeit all benefit of it, and trust 
one another, by never entering their Books in the Kegister of the 
Stationers' Hall ; or when this method is not safe enough, entering 
only one Volume of each sett; that being deemed effectual to 
prevent any other of the trade from printing such sett upon them. 
And thus, when complete setts of works have been claimed for any 
of the aforesaid Libraries, or even offers made to purchase the 
remaining Volumes not entered as the Acts direct, the Bookseller 
has not only refused to part with them gratis, but even to sell the 
remaining Volumes to such claimants, unless those other Volumes, 
that had been delivered, were likewise paid for at the same time. 

Should a Prosecution be undertaken for the small Penalties 
appointed by these Acts, since the Clerk of the Stationers' Com- 

1 For a more elaborate discussion of matters summarized in this para- 
graph, see A. Birr ell, Copyright in Books, London, 1899, 45-96. The actual 
workings of the Queen Anne Act seem to be rather inadequately treated by 
Birrell and by Aldis (Camb. Hist, of Eng. Lit., xi, 311 ff.). Both take for 
granted that the law worked in practice as it seems to read. More satis- 
factory is ^Copyright by R. R. Bowker, Boston, 1912, 24 et seq,; but it 
merely summarizes the legal aspects of the case. 

* Observations occasioned by the Contest about Literary Property, Cam- 
bridge, 1770. There is a copy in the Treasure Room of Harvard Library, 
bound up in Tr. 35. The ascription to Law is penciled on the title-page. 

' The nine copies were supposed to come from the first, therefore the best, 
edition, often a folio with spacious margins; and this was a particular 
grievance; for the tax on paper was one of the chief items of expense in 
the book-trade. 


pany, to whom application is made, only gives in his Accounts 
quarterly at the soonest, the Time fixed for commencing such 
Prosecutions must elapse before the University &c. can regularly 
make their demand, and receive notice whether it will be complyed 
with or not ; by which means the several Societies entitled to such a 
number of Books, are in a great measure deprived of the benefit 
intended for them by these Acts. 

The Stationers Company in short, continued to go on in their 
old ways, to recognize no rights of the author, to give nothing to 
the Universities, and to maintain their monopoly by a boycott on 
independent concerns. Still, however, they needed some color of 
legal support. Parliament had failed them ; and now they appealed 
to the courts to uphold their " ancient " and " traditional " rights. 
Chancery was favorable, and granted injunctions without time- 
limit against the impressions of country booksellers. 4 The 
Stationers even tried to bring a dummy case before Lord Mansfield 
in order to obtain a decision, once and for all, in their favor ; but, 
after three hearings, the hoax was discovered. 5 The Queen Anne 
Act, however, fell into almost complete desuetude. 

This economic situation gave the profits of literary work almost 
entirely to the bookseller. Jacob Tonson, " the gentleman usher 
to the Muses," could retire into Herefordshire at sixty, and leave 
his bookshop to descend in succession to his nephew and grand- 
nephew. Lintot died rich in 1736 ; and his grand-daughter made 
a fortune of 45,000 in partnership with Eichardson. In 1759, 
Eobert Dodlsey could turn over to his brother James the thriving 
business "At Tully's head/' Authors, meanwhile even some of 
those whose works sold the best were often in distress. 6 Thomson 

* London booksellers, moreover, did not deliver in the country: even as 
late as 1781, Cowper notes the great difficulty of getting books at Olney, 
Letters, ed. Wright, London, 1904, i, 246-7, 396. This helps to explain the 
illiteracy of rural England in the Eighteenth Century. Country booksellers 
could not print the classics, and the London trade did not supply the 

5 Birrell, op. tit., 99-138. 

This fact has often been noted. In his Life of Johnson, Macaulay 
remarks that literature had never been " a less gainful calling." He 
attributes this condition to the decline of patronage and to the compara- 
tive paucity of the reading public at large. But, however large the public, 
the copyright situation gave the profits to the bookseller, not to the author. 
Stephen blames the authors' poverty on their shiftlessness (Literature 


got virtually nothing from The Seasons, in spite of its popularity ; 
and Fielding's plays and novels, although both were ubiquitously 
read, hardly alleviated his difficulties. Gray, later in the century, 
made a scant forty guineas from his Elegy and Odes, 7 although 
they are said to have brought Dodsley almost 1,000 8 ; the opulent 
Walpole found literature an expensive amusement; and Johnson, 
the most celebrated writer of the age, was never affluent. 9 Various 
reasons operated in individual cases to cause this situation : Smart 
was improvident, and Johnson lacked business ability. The fact 
remains, however, that booksellers managed to pay low prices and 
gain large profits. 10 Only too common was the case of Dr. Whitby, 
who trudged all about London with his manuscript under his arm, 
only to discover that every firm made him exactly the same offer : 
they had all agreed on the matter in camera. 11 No wonder that 
the Monthly refers to the " rapaciousness " of booksellers and the 
" knavery of literary pirates " ; 12 that the writer of The Case of 
Authors (1758) found the literary trade a hopeless struggle of 

and Sooiety in the Eighteenth Century, London, 1907, 94 et seq.). This 
was true in certain individual cases, but surely no more so in the 
Eighteenth Century than in the Seventeenth or the Nineteenth. Some 
authors, moreover, like Congreve and Gray, had a supercilious attitude 
toward the career of letters, and they would naturally be an easy prey to 
booksellers; but the fact remains that, whatever an author might do, the 
law, as it actually worked, gave him no protection. 

7 Gray is generally believed, on Mason's authority, to have given his 
poems gratis to the booksellers. Mason probably received this impression 
from Gray's disapproval of writing for money. As the MS. letters of 
Mitford et al. in Harvard Treasure 'Room show, however, Gray sold Dodsley 
for 42, the rights to all his poems except one final printing, the posthu- 
mous edition edited by Mason. What arrangement was made for the 
Foulis edition of Glasgow, I do not know; but, in any case, that was, at 
the time of printing, beyond the pale of English copyright law. 

8 Straus, R., Robert Dodsley, Poet, Publisher and Playwright, London, 
1910, 159. Naturally, not all publishers were so successful. See Plomer, 
H. R., A Short History of English Printing, London, 1900, 22 et seq. 

9 Very unusual is the case of Sterne who is said to have received 700 
from Dodsley for two new volumes and a second edition of Tristram Shandy 
(Letters of Gray, London, 1913, II, 137-8) ; but there was a great demand 
for the book. 

10 See the list of publishers' prices, Aldis, op. cit., XT, 321 et seq., and 
D.N.B. sub Lintot. 

11 Observations, etc., op. cit. 8. 
"Mon. Rev. L., 82. 



" wit " versus " money " ; 13 and that Foote's ridicule of " a Catch- 
penny Bookseller " gave " pleasure " 14 to the Monthly reviewer. 

The objections of authors were numerous. 15 In 1747, Warburton 
wrote a plea for the rightful enforcement of Queen Anne's Act, 16 
Johnson, in 1759, complained in a letter to the Universal Chronicle, 
against the plagiarizing of his papers from the Idler; and, in 1764, 
Mason quarreled over copyright with James Dodsley. 17 A Vindi- 
cation of the Exclusive Bights of Authors urged the literati to 
action ; 18 and various schemes resulted. William Stevenson in 
black letters informed the public that his Poems were entered as 
the Act directed. 19 Lloyd, following Churchill's example, inscribed 
every copy of his Methodist with his initials, 20 and so also did the 
anonymous author of The Frequented Village. 2 *- The Case of 
Authors in 1758 had urged the men of letters to " out-combine the 
very booksellers themselves " ; and the Literary Society was insti- 
tuted. A few books were actually printed ; but there was no means 
of publication, except by the Company's booksellers, who charged 
at least 28% on " pamphlets " from 6d to 2s, and 15% on books 
of 5s and over. 22 Some authors tried to publish by subscription; 

"Ibid., xvm, 348; Crit. Rev., v, 175. The prints of the day reflect this. 
See Rowlandson's water-color and Wigstead's cartoon the Bookseller <md 
the Author in Paston's Caricature in the Eighteenth Century, London, 1905, 
plate civ and p. 71. 

"See review of Foote's Author, Mon. Rev., xvi, 361. 

15 Up to the mid-century, the artist was no more protected than the man 
of letters. Finally, Hogarth forced through an act (5 Geo. II) to protect 
his satirical drawings. Unfortunately, it gave no protection to written 
compositions; nor did it apparently keep others from using Hogarth's 
name to advertise their own work (Crit. Rev., vn, 274) . 

18 A Letter fro-m an Author to a Member of Parliament concerning 
Literary Property, London, 1747. It appeared anonymously, and the Brit. 
Mus. Cat. questions Warburton's authorship; but Hurd included it in his 
edition of Warburton's Works. 

"Straus op. cit., 115. 

18 Crit. Rev., xiv, 86. The difficulty, not to say impossibility, of access to 
some of these pamphlets, has obliged the writer to rely considerably on 
contemporary reviews. 

18 See Crit. Rev., xx, 124. 

20 Ibid., xxn, 75. This was not a new device; Mrs. T. C. Phillips in her 
Apology for her conduct, London, c. 1742, had used it when the booksellers 
refused to bring out her book, and she was obliged to issue it herself. 

a lbid., xxxn, 391. 

** Observations, etc., op. cit., 1. 


Pope's Homer had had its list of stars and garters; and Eobert 
Hill published his Poems by the subscription of " mechanics and 
shop-keepers of various denominations " ; 23 but such enterprises, 
the Stationers often "stiffled at birth " ; or at all events, they could 
delay the imprint. 24 Thomas Malton, in his Essay Concerning the 
Publication of Works on Science and Literature by Subscription, 
declared that the method was " usually found by authors to be a 
very troublesome business/' 25 and, in 1790, Cowper thought him- 
self lucky to get enough subscriptions for his Homer merely to 
pay the cost of printing. 26 The process was long and cumbersome ; 
and most authors " obliged by hunger and request of friends," had 
to sell their wares at once and outright even for a " mere 
trifle." " In short, combination did not overthrow the bookseller, 
nor did subscription circumvent his economic control: Walpole 
might print Gray's Elegy at his private press; but Dodsley was 
necessary to publish it. 

Meanwhile, the book trade throve with the increase of the 
reading public. Booksellers in Scotland looked with increasing 
envy at their fortunate brethren of London ; and finally Alexander 
Donaldson, "the Caledonian Dodsley," opened a shop in the 
metropolis for the sale of cheap Scotch editions. 28 His coming 
was heralded by Some Thoughts on the State of Literary Property, 
a tract which was aimed at the London monoply. 29 In 1767, 
another pamphlet, attributed to Lord Dreghorn, 30 came out, this 
time from Donaldson's own press at Edinburgh: Consideration on 
the Nature and Origin of Literary Property. He established his 
shop and the battle was on. Suit for damages was soon brought 
against him for selling pirated copies; and the first trial went 
badly ; 31 but, on appeal to the Lords, the case was finally decided 

23 Grit. Rev., xxxix, 340. According to the Monthly only the greatest 
poet dared to publish " without the kindly shelter ... of a good sub- 
scription." m, 334. 

* Observations, etc., 10. ** Mon. Rev., Lvn, 322. 

24 Cowper, Letters, op. cit., in, 487. " Observations, etc., 7-8. 
28 Cf. Aldis, in Camb. Hist., XT, 315. 

29 London, 1764; it was published anonymously; but the imprint "for 
Alexander Donaldson " shows its inspiration. 

* So ascribed in TR 32, Harvard Library. 

81 See A Letter from a Gentleman in Edinburgh to his Friend in London, 
concerning Literary Property. 1769 [? London] ascribed in Harvard 
Library, TR 32, to Edmund Law, Bishop of Carlyle, to whom was also 
ascribed the Observations of 1770. 


in his favor in the spring of 1774. 32 The question apparently 
involved was that of the duration of copyright ; whether the Queen 
Anne Act superseded the Stationers' ancient claims of perpetual 
property, or whether it was merely supplementary to them. At 
the same time, charges for printing pirated editions were brought 
against him before the Court of Session in Scotland 33 ; and the 
decision was against the upholders of perpetual copyright. 34 The 
monopoly was broken ; the publishing business was thrown open to 
competition; and this, in due course, gave authors an opportunity 
to bring their works into a free market, operating on a fair basis 
of supply and demand. 

At the time, many authors did not realize this advantage: they 
saw only that perpetual copyright was no longer within their 
grasp, and that legal chaos prevailed. The literary were in a 
ferment. 35 Half a dozen tracts pro and con appeared at once. 36 
Walpole felt himself in an anomalous position : " It does not 
appear to me/' he wrote Mason, " that the case of authors i. e. of 
those few 37 writers who like me have published by means of a 
bookseller and have not reserved the right of copy in themselves, 
has ever yet been considered in either of the debates. At present, 
I have lost all right and title in all my own things, merely because 
my bookseller neglected to enter them in Stationers' Hall." 38 Mrs. 
Macaulay's Modest Plea for the Property of Copyright 39 declared : 
" If literary property becomes common, we can have but two kinds 
of authors, men in opulence and men in dependence." Beattie was 
indignant, and wrote Mrs. Montagu that Mason "is tempted to 
throw his Life of Gray (which is now finished or nearly so) into 
the fire, so much is he dissatisfied with the late decision on 
property." * 

"On this second trial, Birrell gives considerable detail. See 124 et seq. 
Lord Mansfield did not attend. 

33 See James Boswell, The Decision of the Court of Session upon the 
Question of Literary Property, Edinburgh, 1774. 

**Lord Monboddo dissented. 

** Walpole Letters, ed. Toynbee, Oxford, 1904, vin, 423, 433-4. 

89 See If on. Rev., L, 81 et seq., 202 et seq., and 273 et seq. 

97 Probably not as " few " as Walpole supposed. 

w Walpole Letters, ed. Cunn., vi, 432. 

38 Reviewed in Gent's Mag., xuv, 124 et seq. 

40 Forbes, Life of Beattie, N. Y. and Boston, 1807, 240. 


What most alarmed the literary and with some reason was 
the possibility of Scotch infringement of even the twenty-eight 
years copyright which the Queen Anne Act allowed. 41 Mason's 
edition of Gray came out in 1775; and Murray, a Scotch book- 
seller, quoted from it some fifty lines in his Poetical Miscellany. 
Mason, chiefly from principle for the penalties could not amount 
to more than a few pounds commenced an action in Chancery 
to recover damages. Murray offered to settle out of court; but, 
as this would have evaded the legal question, Mason refused. 42 
Murray then published a pamphlet, A Letter to W. Mason, A. M. 
Precentor of York, concerning his edition of Mr. Gray's Poems, 
and the Practices of Booksellers,* 3 in which he denounced Mason 
as a " mercenary author/' 4 * The Eev. John Whitaker, a friend 
of Murray's embraced the occasion to call Mason a " weak divine " ; 
and Johnson signified his displeasure, and damned him as a 
"Whig." 45 Mason's law-suit, however, gained its ends; in 1778, 
he received a judgment in his favor that established the validity 
of the Queen Anne Statute against violation from across the 
Tweed ; and, although many legal details remained to be adjusted, 
the author was at last fairly safe from robbery either by a greedy 
monopoly or by a literary pirate. 

The control which the Stationers had held down to the last 
quarter of the century affected writers and readers alike; the 
former were obliged to seek in the church or in the university the 
living which patronage had ceased to provide; the latter either 
gained little taste for books, or found it difficult and expensive to 
get them. The Stationers Company retreated slowly; it gave up 
the monopoly of presses, the monopoly of registry; it evaded the 
Queen Anne Act, and held its old position by a trade boycott and 

" Enfringement of copyright under the guise of reviewing or summarizing 
was common even in England, Crit. Rev., vr, 495; ix, 229; xix, 233. Secret 
importations from Holland, moreover, such as robbed Lintot of his profits 
in Pope's Homer, were fairly common. 

42 Walpole Letters, Cunn. ed., vi, 437, 454n and 464 ; Vide also S. Smiles, 
A Publisher and his Friends, London, 1891, I, 15. It gives a rather one- 
sided view of the matter. 

48 Vide Nichols, Lit. Anecd., in, 730 ; also Gent's Mag., XLVH, 332. 

44 This charge was doubly unfair: not only did the suit cost Mason more 
than he could ever gain; but the income from the Gray was being devoted 
to charity, Walpole Letters, Cunn. ed., v, 336-8 n. 

^BoswelPs Life of Johnson, Hill ed. ? m, 294. 


by court injunctions; but, as education progressed and as the public 
demand for books increased, the boycott grew less efficient; and 
finally the courts gave away. In 1747, Mason had offered to edit 
Milton's minor poems gratis for Dodsley; but Tonson controlled 
the copyright, and the scheme was dropped. 46 In 1762, Donaldson 
published an edition in Edinburgh, brought copies up to London, 
and sold them in spite of Tonson. In 1775, Blandon printed 
Paradise Lost in London itself; and the fiction of Tonson's 
" property " right was over. Cowper or Hayley might edit Milton, 
and anyone might print or publish the text. An author's royalties 
were safe, at least so far as Great Britain was concerned, for his 
twenty-eight years; then his book, if it had permanent value, 
became public property ; and the bookseller could no longer dictate 
arbitrary terms to the reading public or to the man of letters. 


University of Minnesota. 


The following notes are offered as supplementary to a recent 
commentary on the Catiline, published by Dr. L. H. Harris, New 
Haven, 1916. 

ii, 191. Fulvia's gibe at Sempronia and her lovers, 

Yes, and they study your kitchin more then you, 

is taken from Tiresias' comment on the wooers of Penelope, Horace, 
Sat. ii, 5, 79-80, 

Venit enim magnum donandi parca iuventus, 
Nee tantum Veneris quantum studiosa culinae. 

iii, 1-50. The Consul's speech is taken freely from the beginning 
of Cicero's Second Oration on the Agrarian Law. Compare lines 


where, if he erre, 

He findes no pardon; and for doing well, 
A most small praise, and that wrung out by force, 

1 Straus op cit., 114-5. 


with Cicero, 2, 5, 

cuius errato nulla venia, recte facto exigua laus et iab invitis 
expressa proponitur; 


But a new man (as I am stil'd in Rome) 
Whom you have dignified; and, more, in whom 
Yo' have cut a way, and left it ope for vertue 
(Hereafter, to that place which our great men 
Held shut up, with all ramparts, for themselves. 
Nor have but few of them in time been made 
Your Consuls so; new men, before me, none, etc., 

with 1, 3, 

Me . . . hominem novum consulem fecistis, et eum locum 
quern nobilitas praesidiis firmatum atque omni ratione obvalla- 
tum tenebat me duce rescidistis, virtutique in posterum patere 
voluistis. Neque me tantum modo consulem . . . sed ita fecistia 
quo modo pauci nobiles in hac civitate consules facti aunt, novus 
ante me nemo, etc.; 


But my care, 

My Industrie and vigilance now must worke, 
That still your counsells of me be approv'd 
Both by yourselves and those to whom you have, 
With grudge, prefer'd me; two things I must labour, 
That neither they upbraid, nor you repent you. 
[For every lapse of mine will now be call'd 
Your error, if I make such, 

with 3, 6, 

Quod si solus in discrimen aliquod adducerer, f err em, Quirites, 
animo aequiore; sed mihi videntur certi homines, si qua in re 
me non modo consilio, verum etiam casu lapsum esse arbitra- 
buntur, vos universos, qui me antetuleritis nobilitati, vitupera- 
turi. Mihi autem, Quirites, omnia potius perpetienda esse duco 
quam non ita gerendum consulatum, ut in omnibus meis factia 
atque consiliis vestrum de me factum consiliumque laudetur; 

and 47-52, 

II know well in what termes I doe receive 
The common wealth, how vexed, how perplex'd; 
In which there's not that mischiefe, or ill fate, 
That good men feare not, wicked men expect not. 
I know, beside, some turbulent practises 
Alreadie on foot, and rumors of moe dangera, 


with 3, 8, 

Ego qualem Kalendis lanuariis acceperim rem publicam, 
Quirites, intellego, plenam sollicitudinis, plenam timoris; in qua 
nihil erat mail, nihil adversi, quod non boni metuerent, improbi 
exspeotarent ; omnia turbulenta consilia, etc. 

The opening words of this speech, " Great honors are great bur- 
dens/' represent a familiar Latin play on the words honos, onus. 
Cp. the proverb " Est onus omnis honor ; " Ovid, Her. ix, 31, " non 
honor est sed onus/* 

iii, 85. " Most popular Consul." Cp. Cicero, De Lege Agraria, 
ii, 4, 9, " dixi ... me popularem consulem futurum," etc. 

iii, 108. " And watch the watcher." Cp. Juvenal, vi, 347, " sed 
quis custodiet ipsos Custodes ? " 

iii, 280. " The farre-triumphed world." Cp. Ovid, Amores, i, 
15, 26, " Roma triumphati dum caput orbis erit." 

iii, 753. " Emulous Carthage." Cp. Sallust, Catiline, x, 1, 
" Carthago aemula imperi Romani ; " also, Horace, Epod. xvi, 5, 
" aemula nee virtus Capuae," etc. 

iv, 64-65 (cp. v, 103-4). 

What may be happy and auspicious still 
To Rome and hers. 

Cp. the frequent formulae of the sort in Livy ; e. g., i, 28, 7, " quod 
bonum faustum felixque sit populo Romano," etc.; also Cicero, 
Div. i, 102, "maiores nostri . . . omnibus rebus gerendis 'quod 
bonum faustum f elix f ortunatumque esset ' praef abantur." 
iv, 755-757, 

like Capaneus at Thebes, 

They should hang dead upon the highest spires, 
And aske the second bolt, to be throwne downe. 

Cp. Statius, Thebais, x, 936-939 (of Capaneus), 

Pectoraque invisis obicit flammantia muris, 

Ne oaderet; 

paulum si tardius artus 

(Cessissent, potuit fulmen sperare secundum. 

v, 56-63. The speech of Petreius to his soldiers, 

KUhiefly, when this sure joy shall crowne our side, 
That the least man who falls upon our partie 
This day (as some must give their happy names 


To fate, and that eternall memorie 
Of the best death, writ with it, for their countrey) 
iShall walke at pleasure in the tents of rest, 
And see farre off, beneath him, all their host 
Tormented after life, etc., 

should perhaps be compared with Cicero's Fourteenth Philippic, 

xii, 31, 

O fortunata mors, quae naturae debita pro patria est potissi- 
mum reddita ! . . . Etenim Mars ipse ex acie fortissimum quem- 
que pignerari solet. Illi igitur impii, quos cecidistis, etiam ad 
inferos poenas parricidii luent; vos vero, qui extremum spirituni 
in victoria effudistis, piorum estis sedem et locum consecuti. 
IBrevis a natura vita vobis data est, at memoria bene redditae 
vitae sempiterna. 


The Johns Hopkins University. 


A robbery per se committed five centuries and more ago may not 
be of much importance; when, however, it concerns the poet 
Chaucer the matter assumes proportions of interest. The poet, 
according to the records, was robbed near the " fowle ok " Septem- 
ber 3, 1390 ; and exactly three days later he was robbed twice, at 
Westminster, and at Hatcham, Surrey. 1 Whether there were three 
robberies inside of four days, or whether through blunders in the 
documents there were but two has never been definitely decided. 
Mr. Selby 2 did not attempt, in his exhaustive investigation of the 
robberies, to identify the Foul Oak incident with either of the other 
two. Mr. Kirk 3 thought that if the accounts are to be taken lit- 
erally there were three holdups, though elsewhere 4 he considered 
Skeat's identification as " probable." Skeat 5 had remarked that 
the robbery at " Hatcham, Surrey (now a part of London, ap- 
proached by the Old Kent Road and not far from Deptford and 
Greenwich ; " was identical with the one near the Foul Oak. Thus, 

1 Life-Records, 2nd series (1875), Part I. 

3 Hid., pp. 5 ff. 

3 Ibid. (1900), p. xl; cf. Hid., Part iv, p. 292 note. 

4 Ibid., p. xli note. " Works, I, p. xli. 


according to Skeat, there were but two robberies at Westminster 
and at Hatcham, a view that several writers have held by implica- 
tion or in express terms : for example, Lounsbury, Wyatt, 7 Emer- 
son, 8 Pollard, 9 J. W. H[ales], 10 Wells. 11 Liddell, 12 on the other 
hand, assumes but one robbery; MacCracken 13 says there were 
two but both committed "near the Foul Oak in Kent." Coulton 14 
darkens counsel when he writes: the poet "was the victim of at 
least two, and just possibly three, highway robberies (of which two 
were on one day) at Westminster, and near 'The Fou! Oak' at 
Hatcham." When to these conflicting accounts are added other 
contradictory statements for example the amount of money lost 
at Hatcham, 9 44d., 15 isi said by Skeat to have been 9 3s. 3d. ; by 
Hales 9 3s. 6d. ; and by Pollard 9 3s. 8d. no apology it is hoped 
should be necessary for attempting to settle a small point in the 
life of Chaucer. 

In view of the fact that the poet's unfortunate experiences during 
this first week of September have interested Chaucer scholars for 
half a century, it seems surprising that an entry in the Bolls of 
Parliament, 16 which seems to clear up the matter, should have been 
overlooked. Additional interest attaches itself to the story in the 
Rolls in that a business associate of Chaucer Nicholas Brembre, a 
prominent Londoner is concerned. 

In 1387 the fatal Parliament charged Brembre with having 
taken twenty-two prisoners from Newgate, and " les amesnoit hors 
de Loundr* en le Counte de Kent a une lieu q est appelle le Foul 
Oke," where they were beheaded. 

This reference, then, definitely identifies Foul Oak with Kent; 
moreover it was a place, and not a patriarch of the forest; and 
obviously it was an isolated community, though apparently not far 

Life, I, pp. 84 f . 

''Chaucer (selections), no date, p. 6. 

8 Chaucer: Selected Poems (1911), p. xvii. 

'Chaucer (Globe edition), p. xix; Ency. Brit., llth ed., vr, p. 14. 

10 Diet. Natl. Biog., x, p. 165. He incorrectly gives the 9th of Sept. 

m A Manual of the Writings in Middle English, 1916, p. 615. 

13 Chaucer (selections), 1902, p. cxvi. 

11 A College Chaucer, 1913, p. 595. 

M Chaucer and his England, 1908, p. 63. 

15 Life-Records, Part I, pp. 19, 30. One entry (p. 19) indeed gives 43d. 

M m, p. 231. 


from London. It would seem therefore that the records may be 
trusted 17 : the poet was held up thrice inside of four days. Judging 
from the amount of travelling about he did during these first days 
of September, one concludes that Chaucer's duties as Clerk of the 
Works were somewhat arduous; at any rate the tasks must have 
been time and energy consumers. The poet's life at this par- 
ticular period could not have been one of such leisure as is supposed 
to accompany the poetic muse. 18 Nor is it at all likely that his 
entire two years (1389-1391) as royal clerk were much less stren- 
uous. All this of course has a bearing on the composition of the 
Canterbury Tales, which were then under way. 

E. P. KUHL. 
Goucher College. 

17 Of course the record explicitly states that the holdup was near the 
Foul Oak. Even then, however, it seems impossible to accept the conclu- 
sions of Skeat and others, that the robbery referred to is the one in 
Surrey (Hatcham). In the first place we must assume the date (Septem- 
ber 3) to be incorrect; again, the Foul Oak and Hatcham entries do not 
agree in the amount of money lost by the poet. Though, to be sure, the 
Hatcham records vary as to the amount, yet of the three accounts two give 

9 44d. (and 43d.) (Part I, pp. 19, 30), and the third 20 6s. 8d. (Part 
iv, p. 339). Agiain, it is not certain that the culprits \ (whether one or two 
gangs) responsible for the holdups on the 6th, namely at Westminster and 
Hatcham, were the same persons who held up the poet on the 3rd (cf. Kirk, 
"Forewords," Life-Records, p. xli). Though it may be urged that both at 
Hatcham and near the Foul Oak the poet lost goods ( moebles ) , a horse, and 
(according to one entry) nearly the same amount of money 20, 6s. 8d. 
and 20 respectively, which thus suggests but a single holdup, yet la glance 
at the records of other robberies by the various highwaymen shows that 
goods and horses were not uncommon booty (cf. Part I, pp. 8, 12 ff.). It 
should be emphasized that there is no greater difficulty in accepting three 
than two mishaps, for the highwaymen were particularly active at this 
time (cf. Part i). Is it significant, finally, that the King was in Kent 
(lat his manor of Eltham) when he pardoned 'Chaucer of the loss near the 
Foul Oak (cf. Part iv, p. 292) ? 

18 The legal matters pertaining to the robberies occupied the poet's atten- 
tion off and on for months (of. Kirk, " Forewords," p. xlii, Part I, pp. 12 ff.) . 


1761-1778: The Banishment of Cicero; The Summer's Tale; Amelia; The 
Brothers; Timon of Athens; The Fashionable Lover; The 
Note of Hand; The Choleric Man; The Battle of Eastings; 
The Princess of Parma. 

Richard Cumberland, the dramatist, speaks in his Memoirs of 
his plays as " a long list of dramas, such as I presume no English 
author has yet equalled in point of number." This is a statement 
disingenuous enough, unless we suppose Cumberland ignorant of 
the prolific Elizabethans, Marston, Decker, and Heywood. The 
dramatist is equally pompous, but more truthful when he says, 
later : " When I attempt to look into the mass of my productions, 
I can keep no order in the enumeration of them; I have not 
patience to arrange them according to their dates : I believe I have 
written at least fifty dramas published and unpublished." 

Cumberland's carelessness in losing sight of his dramas has 
rendered a complete collection of them difficult. He himself in 
the Memoirs indexes thirty-eight dramatic pieces; Genest assigns 
him forty-three ; Biographia Dramatica credits him with fifty-four ; 
and a student more patient than the author himself may record 
others. Neither of the two dramatic dictionaries makes mention 
of a play called The Confession, printed in a collection of plays 
called The Posthumous Dramatic Works of Richard Cumberland. 
Three other plays may be attributed to Cumberland upon more or 
less reputable authority. 1 

The Banishment of Cicero, written about 1761, and concerned 
with the conspiracy of Clodius, Piso, and Gabinius against Tully, 
never found an audience, save David Garrick, whose friendship for 
Cumberland began at this time. Biographia Dramatica finds the 
unpleasant scenes " too vicious and shocking to come within the 
decent clothing of tragic muse." 2 

1 The Elders, a farce acted at Kelmarsh, Northamptonshire; The Days of 
Geri, in a list compiled by Sir Walter Scott; Palamon and Arcite, in 
manuscript form in the British Museum. 

1 Biographia Dramatica, in, 47. 



In 1765 Cumberland ventured into a dramatic field for which he 
was totally unfitted. On December 6, an operetta, The Summer's 
Tale, with music by Abel, Bach, and Arne was produced at Covent 
Garden Theatre. The piece had a run of nine nights. 3 The play 
was judged a failure by the critics, but Cumberland brought it 
forward three years later under another name ; it was altered, and 
acted as Amelia at Covent Garden on April 12, 1768. The piece 
was again acted, with alterations, on December 14, 1771, at Drury 
Lane Theatre. Mudford, in his Life of Cumberland, asserts that 
Amelia is a convincing proof of the dramatist's unwillingness to 
admit any play of his to be a failure. 

On December 2, 1769, at Covent Garden Theatre, was acted The 
Brothers. "It was written," Cumberland affirms, " after my 
desultory manner, at such short periods of time and leisure as I 
could snatch from business or the society of my family. . . Neither 
was it any interruption, if my children were playing about me in 
the room." 4 The comedy was probably finished early in 1768, for 
a letter of March 21 of this year to Garrick can hardly refer to 
another play : " I have/' says Cumberland, " a comedy in my 
possession which has never been in any hands but my own, and is, 
both in plot and execution, entirely new and original." 5 The 
offer was apparently refused, but the comedy was subsequently 
accepted by Covent Garden Theatre. Cumberland's happiest 
inspiration in the writing of The Brothers was a passage in the 
epilogue which won for him the friendship of Garrick. The play 
was acted about twenty-two times, and enjoyed many revivals. The 
popularity of The Brothers 6 secured for Cumberland the patronage 

3 Further comment upon The Summer's Tale may be found in The Gen- 
tleman's Magazine for December, 1765, The Universal Magazine for Decem- 
ber, 1765, The Universal Museum for December, 1765, The London Maga- 
zine for December, 1765, and The Royal Magazine for December. 1765. All 
these periodicals contain specimens of the lyrics of the musical comedy. 

* Memoirs, I, 264. Cumberland has a tendency to emphasize his casual 
method of composition. See Mudford, Life of Cumberland, p. 188. 

'Private Correspondence of David Garrick, i, 293. Cumberland ta 
Garrick, March 21, 1768. 

"A version of The Brothers in prose may be found in Miss Macauley's 
Tales of the Drama, p. 239. The Brothers was not at first definitely known 
to be Cumberland's. 

The Whitehall Evening Post of December 4, 1769, says: "Notwithstand- 
ing some reports to the contrary, we can assure our readers that the new 



and protection of Garrick, and definitely established him as a 
writer of "legitimate comedy/' Its success gave ihm courage to 
begin The West Indian. The West Indian, acted on January 19, 
1771, has been discussed in an earlier issue of this periodical. 

The same year which brought forth The West Indian offered the 
first of Cumberland's adaptations of Shakespeare. Timon of 
Athens was acted at Drury Lane on December 4, 1771. This play 
was followed on January 20, 1772, at the same playhouse, by The 
Fashionable Lover. This production, a comedy of manners with a 
Scotch hero, found favor second only to that of The West Indian. 
The Fashionable Lover was acted, at its first appearance, about 
fifteen times. There were two revivals of the play at Covent Garden, 
on May 9, 1786, and April 9, 1808. A performance followed on 
December 8, 1808, at Bath, and a revival occurred at Drury Lane 
in 1818, seven years after the author's death. Cumberland was 
partial to The Fashionable Lover, and openly prefers it in the 
Prologue to either The Brothers or The West Indian, saying to the 
audience : 

Two you have reared; but between you and me, 
This youngest is the fav'rite of the three. 

" I confess/' Cumberland says in the Memoirs, " I flattered myself 
that I had outgone The West Indian in point of composition." 

The Note of Hand, 7 a farce, was acted at Drury Lane on 
February 9, 1774, and later on October 19, at the same theatre, 

Comedy called The Brothers, is written by Cumberland ; who possesses 

a considerable post in the Treasury, and is the author of a tragedy called, 
The Banishment of Cicero, and a musical Comedy, entitled The Summer's 

(Further comment upon The Brothers may be found in The Weekly 
Magazine of December 14, and December 21, 1769, Scot's Magazine for 
December, 1769, Boaden, Life of Mrs. Jordan, n, 106, Mrs. Inchbald, The 
British Theatre, p. 18. 

For American productions of The Brothers, see Seilhamer, History of the 
American Theatre, 1749-1774, I, 330 (sometimes named The Shipwreck). 

7 The London Magazine, February, 1774. See also The Oxford Magazine, 
February, 1774. Further comment upon The Note of Hand may be found 
in The Sentimental Magazine for February, 1774, The Westminster Maga- 
zine for February, 1774, The London Chronicle of February 10, 1774, 
Memoirs, I, 388, Mudford, Life of Cumberland, p. 318, and Private Corre- 
spondence of David Garrick, I, 621, Doctor Hoadly to Garrick, April 10, 


The Election, " the production of a hasty hour." 8 " Considered 
as a literary composition," says Lloyd's Evening Post of October 
21, "this interlude is the most execrable we ever met with," but 
declares that it is timely : " As all Election matter depends upon 
being well timed than well written, we doubt not it will be a 
favorite with the audience when it is more perfect in the Perform- 
ance, as it really has a very good stage effect." The Election mani- 
fests Cumberland's usual idealistic tendency : " The author flatters 
himself it breathes throughout that freedom and independency 
which is ever so grateful to us all tempered with that loyalty and 
harmony which is so necessary to promote the general happiness." 9 
The Choleric Man, produced at Drury Lane on December 19, 
1774, was another venture of the same year. A character named 
Old Nightshade bore the brunt of the critics' assaults, and seemed 
to violate all the decorum of sentimental comedy. Davies denounced 
him as " a wretch without the least tincture of humanity," and one 
who was " fit for no place but Bedlam," 10 and The St. James 
Chronicle, after praising his analogues in the Adelphi, L'Ecole des 
Maris, and The Squire of Alsatia, almost shouts that he is "a 
despicable Character, made up of Noise, Nonsense, Outrage, and 
Madness." " " We can scarcely recognize," says the dramatic 
critic of Lloyd's Evening Post of December 19, "the nature and 
humour exhibited in the paternal severity of Terence's Demea in 
the grim distortions and wild ravings of Old Nightshade." " Night- 
shade," says Arthur Murphy, ". . . is in one continued rage from 
beginning to end. The author should have considered that no 
man lives in a perpetual whirlwind of passion. ... If Mr. Cum- 
berland," concludes Murphy, "had copied nature, the audience 
would have had the pleasure resulting from variety; and the fits 

8 The Town and Country Magazine, October, 1774. 

9 The Town and Country Magazine, October, 1774. 

Biographia Dramatica says that The Election was never printed, but 
The Gentleman's Magazine for January, 1775, contains the following item: 
"A new musical interlude, called the election, as it is performed at the 
theatre royal in Drury Lane, 8vo. 6d. Griffin." 

Further comment upon The Election may be found in The Universal 
Magazine for October, 1774, and The London Magazine for October, 1774. 

10 Memoirs of the Life of David GarricJc, n, 273-4. 

11 The St. James Chronicle, December 22, 1774. 


and starts oljjus angry boy might have helped to retard, and, at 
times, to forward the main business of the plot." 12 

Young Nightshade, who reminds the reader of Tony Lumpkin, 
was thought ''too knowing and too shrewd/' 13 at least for a " Coun- 
try Put ; " 13 Gregory fell below the standard set in The Squire of 
Alsatia; and alas! for Cumberland's learning! Young Manlove 
was reckoned " but a faint copy of the ingenious ^Eschines." 13 

The Battle of Hastings was finally accepted by Sheridan, it is 
supposed, only by the grace of Garrick's influence. The hand of 
the universal mender of plays is apparent upon every page of the 
tragedy, and, as usual, Cumberland is amusingly busy, revising, 
and rewriting. We have, at first, Cumberland's sour thanks for 
Garrick's candid opinion of an epilogue, with the enclosure of 
another, fortified by a host of apologies, and a conclusion saying 
that he "wrote it post-haste directly upon reading Garrick's 
letter." Of the amendments Cumberland writes: "The whole 
which you recommend is done: Edwina's simile of the Tower (act 
the first) is made very impassioned; the conclusion of the fourth 
act was before your criticism came to hand entirely reformed, and 
I owed the correction to Miss Young's protest against the simile 
of the lightning ; 14 your observation tallying with what I had done 
was particularly pleasing." 15 The anticipated criticism is char- 
acteristic. The letters reflect Sheridan's and Cumberland's uneasi- 
ness. " We have as yet had no rehearsal," he writes Garrick, " nor 
can I tell when we shall. . . . Without some prudence and patience 
I should never have got the ladies cordially into their business, nor 
should I not only have avoided a jar with Mr. Smith, 16 but so far 
have impressed him in my favor as to draw an offer from him 
(though too late) of taking the part of Edwin." 17 Cumberland 

11 Life of David Garrick, rr, 108. 

13 The St. James Evening Chronicle, December 22, 1774. 

14 The Town and Country Magazine for January, 1778, complains that 
Cumberland, " a volunteer in the service of his favourite muse Thalia," 
" aims too much at the sublime, and the gods themselves often were 
incapable of understanding him." 

18 Private Correspondence of David Garrick, rr, 283, Cumberland to 
Garrick, January 4, 1778. 

M Cumberland writes Garrick : " Mr. Smith has made good my apprehen- 
sions, and refused taking any part in my tragedy but that of Edgar." 

"Private Correspondence of David Garrick, rr, 283. 


wrote Henderson, the actor, concerning the role. On October 25, 

1777, Henderson replies to Cumberland : " I am much obliged and 
honoured by your intelligence respect the Battle of Hastings. . . . 
As soon as I have gone through the Eoman Father, which 1 now 
have in rehearsals, I shall dedicate my studies to the Battle." 18 
Early in January Henderson is well established as Edgar, for 
Cumberland tells Garrick that " Henderson returns Saturday next, 
and we shall have three practices this week." 19 The success of 
Henderson in Edgar was dubious, and Cumberland chose to 
blame his friend rather than the heavy and unnatural character he 
himself had created. " He did not possess," says the dramatist, 
" the graces of person or deportment, and that character demanded 
both; an actor might have been found who with inferior abilities 
would have been a fitter representative for it." 20 " I am not 
surprised," writes J. H. Pye, in regard to the failure of this actor 
in The Battle of Hastings, " at the fate of Henderson." 21 The 
first performance of The Battle of Hastings was on January 24, 

1778. It was acted twelve times. 22 

During the same year in which The Battle of Hastings was 
acted, Cumberland produced The Princess of Parma, a tragedy. 
This play was acted privately, on October 20 and October 21, 1778, 
in Mr. Hanbury's theatre at Kelmarsh, Northamptonshire. Cum- 
berland himself was one of the dramatis persona. 


Tale University. 

M Letters and Poems by the late Mr. John Henderson, p. 293, Henderson 
to Cumberland, October 25, 1777. 

M Private Correspondence of David Garrick, n, 285, Cumberland to 
Garrick, Monday evening (probably February 5, 1778). 

" Memoirs, I, 391. 

M Private Correspondence of David Garrick, n, 291, J. H. Pye to Garrick, 
February 21, 1778. 

"Genest, vr, 6-8. See Ibid., \i, 6, for a comparison of The Battle of 
Hastings with Boyce's Harold. Further comment upon this play may be 
found in Lloyd's Evening Post of January 26, 1778, The London Chronicle 
of January 25, 1778, Biographia Dramatica, in, 51, and Mudford, Life of 
Cumberland, p. 320. 


La Pensee italienne au XVI e siecle et le courant libertin, par J.- 
EOGEK CHARBONNEL, Paris, Champion, 1919. ix -f A-TJU -f- 
720 -J- Ixxxiv pp. 

During the past quarter-century there has been a marked rena- 
scence of interest in the literature of the French Renaissance as 
well as in that of the fifteenth century two important periods of 
transition in French thought that had been largely neglected by 
students of both ancient and modern literature. Now that our 
knowledge of these epochs has been greatly augmented by mono- 
graphs and other studies of a specialized nature, we are in a better 
position to understand their cultural background. And for a broad 
appreciation of the various literary movements, nothing is of 
greater importance than thorough investigations into the intro- 
duction or penetration of ideas from foreign countries. For ex- 
ample, Miss Le Due, in her interesting dissertation on Gontier Col 
and the French Pre-Renaissance? emphasized the role of diplomats 
and ambassadors in the dissemination of culture at the close of the 
fourteenth century and the beginning of the fifteenth. Again, M. 
Renaudet traced back to their sources the currents of thought that 
flowed mainly from the north. And now the present work ap- 
proaches the subject from a somewhat similar point of vantage. 
In fact, this study, as its title indicates, is a history of ideas, espe- 
cially in Italy, and their introduction into France. Its value is 
such that one can only wish that something similar may be done 
for other fields, such for instance as the history of the influence of 
the Church on French thought a research that can be undertaken 
only by a scholar thoroughly familiar with medieval theology. It 
should consist of careful investigations of texts and documents of 
a widely varying nature, and not of the cursory and incomplete 
sketch so characteristic of contributions of this kind, some of which 
unfortunately only serve to give us false impressions. And just as 
the splendid study of M. Charbonnel will, if not revolutionize, at 
least help us to revise our conception of the trend of thought in the 

'Lancaster, Pa., 1918. 


seventeenth century, so a work of the type mentioned above will 
enable us to acquire a far more accurate understanding than we 
perhaps possess at present of the great epoch which we imperfectly 
designate as the Dark Ages. 

One of the outstanding facts that impress us on approaching the 
study of the Renaissance in France is the remarkable open minded- 
ness and desire for knowledge manifested by the leading thinkers 
of that important period. How eagerly they welcomed new ideas ! 
Du Bellay and Peletier were seeking out new paths in poetry and 
prosody; Meigret, Peletier, and others were attempting to solve 
problems in language and orthography in quite the same spirit and 
manner that phoneticians and philologists are trying to apply at 
present; Bodin, L'Hospital, La Boetie and their co-workers sought 
to introduce new ideas and methods in government and politics; 
Rabelais and Montaigne and their disciples and rivals took up 
questions relating to education and science; Le Fevre d'Etaples, 
Calvin (notwithstanding his later dogmatism) and many others 
turned to religion ; and the list might be continued for other lines, 
such as art, architecture, medicine, astronomy, etc. " I/age 
moderne et le siecle de Montaigne, de Pomponazzi, de Bruno, se 
peuvent rapprocher Tun de 1'autre," says M. Charbonnel (p. D). 
Indeed, this was the century in which thought was to a great 
extent freed from the trammels that hampered its development in 
other periods it was an epoch of transition, in which the vogue 
of old authorities was shattered, and new ones, whose establishment 
was largely due to the growth of absolutism, were not yet accepted. 
At no time in history was the intellectual relationship between 
France and neighboring countries so intimate, and this condition 
doubtless was at once the cause and the effect of the widespread 
interest in foreign travel. 

Thanks to these pilgrims, most of whom were scholars, new cur- 
rents of ideas penetrated into France. 2 And this " confluent," as 
M. Charbonnel aptly applies a term which is justified by the way 
in which neo-Platonism, mysticism, Petrarchism and even Aris- 
totelianism became intermingled, served as a new "tournant/' or 

For a list of Frenchmen who studied at the University of Ferrara in 
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, cf. Picot, Etudiants francais d I'Uni- 
versitt de Ferrare in the Journal des Savants, Feb., 1902. Naude", an arch- 
libertine of the seventeenth century, took his doctoral degree at Padua in 


point of departure, for a rejuvenation of thought. It is therefore 
obvious that the origins, as well as the principles, of classicism, 
which, according to M. Charbonnel, are still " mal systematise^" 
need, as a consequence of his investigations, further elucidation. 
Until recently even the overwhelming influence of Italy on the 
Renaissance in France had not been sufficiently appreciated. 3 The 
Libertine movement likewise, which has often been considered as 
confined to seventeenth-century France, extends its roots far back 
into the preceding period most probably as far back as to the 
positive attitude assumed by the Church in favor of Thomism. 
It seems, as a matter of fact, to have been this dogmatic exclu- 
siveness that stirred hostile thought. 4 Hence it will be necessary 
for us to modify to a great extent our acquiescence in the assump- 
tion of M. Strowski that the breviary of the Libertines in the seven- 
teenth century was the Sagesse of Charron. 5 As stated above. 

3 Works by Picot, Villey, Vianey, Tilley, Renaudet, and others have con- 
tributed for the most part to a more just evaluation of the influence of 
France's southern neighbor. 

* The reader's attention should be called to the somewhat unusual method 
of pagination adopted by M. Charbonnel. For example, to the end of the 
Table des Matieres, Italic capitals (I-IX) are used. For the preface and 
bibliography Roman capitals (A-UU) have been adopted. In the append- 
ices the ordinary Roman lettering (i-lxxxiv) has been selected. 

A usual failing of French scholars to which M. Charbonnel also falls a 
victim is the tendency to distort English names and mis-spell English 
words. Thus, French scholars persist for unknown reasons in calling 
Mr. Christie, Mr. Copley Christie (p. DD) ; and the familiar name of 
Mclntyre appears as Intyre (Mac) (p. SS). Furthermore, we find 
' skeptis ' on p. MM but corrected on p. IT in which one would possibly 
not recognize ' sceptics.' Nouns and adjectives of nationality are often 
not capitalized, as, e. g., italian (p. LL), etc. 

It may also be noted that the author seems to have failed to explain the 
abbreviations used in the bibliography (pp. O-UU), which in other respects 
is most satisfactory. The only omissions found by the reviewer are 
Renaudet, Prtreforme et humanisms a Paris, pendant les premieres guerrcs 
d'ftalie, Paris, 1916:; A. Tilley, The Dawn of the French Renaissance, 
Cambridge, 1918; and Alma de L. Le Due, Gontier Col and the French Pre- 
Renaissance, Lancaster, Pa., 1918. But it is quite possible that all of 
these works appeared after M. Charbonnel had completed his MS. In the 
reviewer's opinion, M. C. deserves credit for having emphasized the impor- 
tance of the Doctrine Curieuse of Pere Oarasse. If judged in a negative 
way, it is valuable for its information regarding the different Libertine 

6 In fact, the main weakness of M. Strowski's otherwise useful Pascal et 


Libertinism goes even back of and beyond the paganism of the 
Pleiade. And, strangely enough, by its unswerving devotion to 
Aristotle, the Church encouraged the very forces which it was 
seeking to destroy. 6 In the sixteenth century a great impetus was 
given to the Libertine movement by the publication of the trans- 
lation of the Cortegiano of Castiglione, 7 which, with the Amadis de 
Gaule, had such extraordinary influence on the development of 
social ideals in France. Furthermore, with the influx of Italians 
at the French court due in the early period to Francis I and later 
on to Catherine de Medicis 8 the diffusion of Libertine ideas was 
very great. La Noue, in his Discours, states that in 1585 there 
were one million atheists and unbelievers in France. In order to 
set forth clearly the ultimate sources of Libertinism, M. Charbonnel 
finds it desirable to give succinct resumes of the philosophy of 
Plato, Aristotle and the neo-Platonists, and then shows, as men- 
tioned above, how all of these schools became more or. less inter- 
mingled and confused at the time of the Kenaissance (p. 160). 

son temps (3 vols., Paris, 1907) consists in his tendency to arrive at 
definite and far-reaching conclusions from insufficient data generalizations 
not seldom influenced by preconceived hypotheses, against which the reader 
must be carefully on his guard. Thus, M. Villey in his brilliant study 
entitled Les Sources et I 'evolution des Essais de Montaigne, (Paris, 1908) 
has shown that M. Strowski was also wrong in insisting on the influence 
of Pico della Mirandola on Montaigne (cf. Strowski, Montaigne et F. Pic 
de la Miarandole, Bulletin italien, 1905; and Montaigne, Paris, 1906). 

This may serve to explain why, in spite of the vigorous anti-scholasti- 
cism of the sixteenth century, Aristotle maintained his sway over the phi- 
losophy of the seventeenth century (cf. Charbonnel, pp. 38 and 48). More- 
over, notwithstanding the almost universal condemnation of Machiavelli, 
the development of absolutism under Louis XIV of which the sources may 
be found in the instruction of his tutor Mazarin may also be due in large 
part to the cult of the Greek philosopher (p. 15). 

7 Translated by Jacques Colin d'Auxerre and edited by Mellin de Saint- 
Gelays in 1538. Cf. H.-J. Molinier, Mellin de Saint-Gelays, Rodez, 1910, 
pp. 145-148. 

* It is interesting to note that, following Agrippa d'Aubigne", M. Char- 
bonnel attributes the astuteness and cruelty of Catherine to the influence 
of Machiavelli (p. 34). But, as indicated above, it was through the pop- 
ularity of Aristotle that Libertinism was fostered. So much so that when- 
*ever it was discovered that a heretic was an Aristotelian, no special objec- 
tion was raised against him. In that respect M. Charbonnel quotes freely 
(pp. 80 et seq.) from a splendid appreciation of Aristotle by Silhon, one 
of the publicists of Richelieu, in his De Vlmmortalite de I'dme. 


Next follow (p. 160) expositions of the doctrines of Ibn-Rosohd 
(1126-1198) better known as Averroes, St. Thomas (p. 172), and 
the Astrologers (p. 192), after which the author makes it apparent 
(p. 244 et seq.) that the Church seemed to be disturbed only when 
the immortality of the soul was brought into question, for, on 
account of the prevalence of Epicureanism, this dogma was looked 
upon by theologians as the keystone of orthodoxy. 9 

In what may be considered the most important chapters of this 
volume, M. Charbonnel has revealed his critical acumen in stressing 
the influence of the brilliant, though erratic, Italian philosopher 
Lucilio Vanini (p. 302). It is quite true that in the Histoire 
critique de la vie de Jules-Cesar Vanini, 10 M. Baudouin has given 
a careful estimate of the contribution of the Neapolitan to the his- 
tory of philosophy, which after all is not important, but though he 
has been mentioned frequently by literary critics, no one seems to 
have attempted a clear statement of his influence on the cultural 
background of the seventeenth century. And yet there is little doubt 
that this popularizer did more to mould liberal thought than any 
other person of his time. In fact, to understand Gassendi and the 
Libertine movement, it is necessary to study Vanini, for, as we 
have already indicated, the wide acceptance of these doctrines was 
in a way a natural consequence of propaganda by Italians. One 
feels, therefore, that no student of this epoch, after reading M. 
CharbonnePs resumes and translations of the tracts of the brilliant 
Neapolitan, will fail to give him his just deserts. 11 

Thereby much of the seeming lack of consistency on the part of the 
Church such as persecution of philosophers and scholars like Dolet and 
Ramus, while ardent Aristotelians and heretical poets were allowed to go 
scot free becomes not only explicable but consequential. The course pur- 
sued by the Jesuits, which M. C. has analyzed so thoroughly (p. 273), falls 
in line with what is stated above. 

10 Revue philosophique, m, 1879; republished in one volume in 1903, and 
also reprinted in the Revue des Pyrenees, xv, 1903. 

u A reading of Vanini's treatises helps us to understand why Aristotle 
continued to exercise undisputed sway over the theological philosophy of 
the seventeenth, century (cf. p. 323). See also Vanini's theory regarding 
the immortality of the soul (p. 324) . For Platonism in Vanini, cf. p. 336. 
M. Charbonnel deserves our thanks for having translated several of the ' 
important tracts of the Italian philosopher in view of the fact that his 
works are now difficult to obtain. For. the same reason it is perhaps only 
right that the greatest amount of space should be allotted to an author 
Who after all is merely a vulgarizer ( 86 pp. ) . 



Ih regard to the frightful penalty inflicted upon Vanini, it may 

not be out of place to recall that his prosecutor was Guillaume de 
Catel, the justly celebrated historian of Toulouse. 12 Anent the 
conduct of the trial, the present reviewer may be justified in quot- 
ing a few lines from an article published by him a few years ago 
relating to a letter written by Catel to the renowned Peiresc : 

" Lea registres des Capitouls [of Toulouse] et les memoires du temps, 
ainsi que ceux de nos jours, ont accus6 le savant historien d'avoir mis une 
apret6 indomptable a arracher au Parlement cet arret de condamnation. 
Pour expliquer ce pretendu acharnement, on a suppose une romanesque 
rivalite d'amour. On a meme affirms que Catel aurait voulu se venger de 
Vanini, et plusieurs savants auraient jugee digne de foi cette legende 
invraisemblable. Mais s'il y eut du parti pris de la part de Catel, ce n'est 
pas la qu'il faut en chercher les motifs. Dans un article sur le testament 
de Catel, Mgr. Ikmais a parle avec eloge de ' la vraie bonte d'ame ' dont 
1'historien fit preuve envers tous ceux qui 1'entouraient, sa famille, ces 
amis et meme ses domestiques. Les nombreuses donations faites par lui 
aux pauvres et aux institutions charitables de Toulouse etablissent que ea 
foi etait ardente et sincere. Or, ainsi que ses concitoyens, il a du partager 
rintolerance et les prgjuges de son epoque. A Toulouse, a-t-on dit, on n'a 
jamais cess6 de poursuivre les incroyants et les athees. Cinq ans a peine 
avant le proces de Vanini, les collegues de Catel avaient condamnfi au 
mme supplice le pretre Jean Duval, accuse de magie. C'est plutdt done 
du cOte" religieux qu'il faut nous tourner pour retrouver les motifs de la 
rigueur de Catel contre le Napolitain; et le postscriptum de la pr^sente 
lettre nous parait pouvoir servir d'appui a notre these." u 

This brief postscript, containing the only mention ever made by 
Catel of his victim, shows that, notwithstanding his role as prose- 
cutor, the learned historian and lawyer came under the spell of the 
brilliant Italian philosopher and was not sparing in words of praise 
for his erudition. One must not forget that Catel was unaware of 
the fact that Pompee Lucilio and Lucilio Vanini were one and the 
same person ; and his brief remarks on this occasion have, therefore, 
even greater weight. The postscript reads as follows : 

" Si ma lettre ne estoit si longue, je vous fairoes le disoours d'un insigne 
athge, philosophe, et meclecin, fils de Naples; lequel a este sur mon raport 
par les deux chambres condampn< et brute. II est mort athee, perseverant 
tousjours, le plus beau et le plus mechant esprit que je aye cogneu. Son 
nom estoet Pompee Lucilio." 

Because of our general ignorance of the extensive Latin litera- 
ture of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, we usually fail to take 
into consideration its important part in the history of French cul- 

"He was the author of the Histoire des conies de Tolose (Toulouse, 1623, 
foi.), and the M6moires de I'histoire du Languedoc (Toulouse, 1633, foi.). 

" Une lettre de Guillaume de Catel d Peiresc in Les Annales du Midi, 
xvm, 1906, pp. 351-357. 


ture. Practically all of the intellectual elite were skilled in Latin, 
to which vehicle, notwithstanding the somewhat verbose and futile 
declarations of Du Bellay, were consigned their most profound 
ideas. Hence by limiting our attention, as is customary, to French 
works alone, we miss what is probably most significant in the 
thought of the period. The vigorous and well-sustained logic of 
Vanini, as shown especially in the quotation on p. 352, is not only 
a splendid specimen of his style, but makes us regret our indiffer- 
ence if we have been indifferent to the work of these scholars. 
Furthermore, that we are dealing with a spirit totally at variance 
with that of the Church is obvious from the fact that these phi- 
losophers reject with scorn the idea of the " faibles d'esprit " so 
dear to the theologian, and acclaim loudly "la passion pour la 
gloire," the dynamic principle of the Kenaissance (p. 356). 

Regarding Machiavelli, M. Charbonnel assumes the customary 
point of view, that his great work II Principe was not intended as 
a satire but rather as a vigorous protestation against the debili- 
tating influence of Catholicism. 1 * Likewise the position occupied 
by Archimedes in the evolution of thought in these two centuries 
has been largely underestimated, although he was highly appre- 
ciated by scholars who, like Leonardo, were surfeited with the end- 
less syllogisms of the scholastics. But more attention might have 
been accorded to Nicholas de Cusa (1401-1464). As the author 
of the De Docta Ignorantia, De Visione Dei, De Concordantia 
Cathedra, he serves as a connecting link between the German 
mystics of the fourteenth century and the Italian neo-Platonists of 
the succeeding period, and thereby plays an important part in the 
promotion of independent thought. 

Then follow succinct as well as comprehensive outlines of the 
philosophical ideas of Leonardo da Vinci and Giordano Bruno. 15 
In regard to the latter we should not fail to note how greatly he 
was influenced by the neo-Platonism of his time a fact that has 
not heretofore been emphasized (pp. 527-529). 

u Cf. pp. 410 and 422. For his influence on political theory in modern 
Germany, see p. 435. 

15 The author supplies in the notes extensive translations and quotations 
from the original texts as well as other material, all of which enables the 
reader to make his own verifications and to control the conclusions pre- 


Next in order may be found expositions of the fundamental 
principles of the philosophy of Kepler (p. 565),, Galileo (p. 567) 
and Campanella (p. 574), in whose work also traces of neo- 
Platonism are manifest a further testimony to the popularity of 
the author of the Banquet. In fact, if Aristotle was the patron 
saint of the scholastics, practically all of those outside the chosen 
circle came more or less under the spell of the exponent of love. 
Even the philosophy of the eighteenth century, notwithstanding its 
materialistic tendencies, is far more imbued with his doctrines than 
one is usually inclined to believe. 16 

After repeating (p. 703) that the Pensees of Pascal represent 
mainly a defense of Christianity against the insidious attacks of 
Libertinism, M. Charbonnel brings his masterly work to a close. 17 

In conclusion, if Libertinism assumed a decidedly transalpine 
character toward the close of the sixteenth century, a perusal of 
this work will show that it was not exotic to France. As a matter 
of fact, it was essentially Gallic a heritage of the Middle Ages. 
Its immediate precursor if that term may be used was in all 
probability the esprit narquois of the sotties and fabliaux reap- 
pearing in the form of Lucianism during the closing years of the 
fifteenth century. But, unlike the authors of these works for 
example Gringore who by virtue of being regarded as defenders 
of the public weal, enjoyed great popularity, the Libertine, because 
he was not, as a general rule, animated by a lofty spirit, failed to 
win any large measure of esteem. And this was so true that even 
when he was a victim of atrocious punishment (as in the case of 
Vanini), his sad fate elicited little sympathy. Like the clever 

18 Cf. pp. 592-593. The reader is also referred to the resume's of the phi- 
losophy of Voltaire (p. 688), Diderot (p. 694) and the three Impostors 
(p. 696). 

"There follow several excellent and carefully prepared appendices. It 
is to be regretted that in the one entitled Relations intellectuelles entre 
I'ltalie et la France the author did not make greater use of the study by 
Emile Picot mentioned frequently above, as well as of the list of French 
authors and scholars who traveled in Italy in the early sixteenth century 
(published by M. H. Chamard in the Revue des cours et conferences, Paris, 
1914, xxii, p. 527), which, though far from complete, is extremely useful. 

Numerous omissions from the Table onomastique will greatly impair the 
usefulness of this study as a work of reference. So important a contri- 
bution should be made accessible to all by a fuller index as well as a more 
satisfactory Table des matieres. 


paragrapher of the present day who sacrifices everything to bril- 
liance of wit, his criticism was negative and thereby, most fre- 
quently, destructive. Indeed, it was in the period when the spirit 
of vigorous protestation that animated the past was at its lowest 
ebb that Libertinism flourished most freely. Briefly, it may be 
characterized as a kind of decadent opposition to the outspreading 
and overtowering absolutism of the Church of the seventeenth 
century. It was a philosophical dilettanteism that had infected all 
the upper classes of society. During the course of the following 
century, when the somnolent populace began to re-assert itself, it 
was doomed to a gradual downfall. 


Columbia University. 

Die Frauen rings um Friedrich H ebb el. Neue Materialien zu ihrer 
ErTcenntnis. Mit einem Anhang : Aus Hebbels Freundeskreis. 
Von ALBRECHT JANSSEN. Heb'bel-Forschungen viu. Berlin- 
Leipzig, 1919. xi -f- 144 pp. 

Certainly the most striking part of this little book is the evidence 
it brings forward in support of the view that Friedrich Hebbel was 
the illegitimate son of a Pastor Volckmar, the same man to whom 
Werner refers as Volckmann, a popular version of the name. The 
editor of the series (Hebbel-ForscJiungen), while not considering 
the evidence compelling, does consider it worthy of attention. 
Even the author, though evidently much in love with his theory, 
does not claim to have established it conclusively. 

Briefly the evidence is as follows. The rumor that Hebbel was 
Volckmar's son was generally current in Wesselburen from the 
poet's boyhood days on. After Bamberg came into possession of 
Hebbel's Nachlass, he wrote (1882) to Hugo Schlomer in Wessel- 
buren, as a native of that place interested in founding a committee 
for the purpose of perpetuating the poet's memory, requesting him 
to find out what he could about Volckmar, "da angenommen 
werden miisse, dass dieser der natiirliche Vater Hebbels gewesen 
sei." This letter from Bamberg was lost by the recipient, though 
his reply referring to the matter, dated 28. 8. 1882, is in Janssen's 
possession. The fact that Bamberg had dignified the "rumor" 
by his serious attention, though the investigation had no definite 


results, encouraged Janssen, as he tells us, to make another and 
more determined effort. 

Schlomer's grandparents came to Wesselburen in 1820. His 
grandfather, as Armena/rzt, frequently treated the poet's mother, so 
also in her final illness. His grandmother told him in 1869 that 
Volckmar was Hebbel's father. Janssen found out a good deal 
about Volckmar, especially from church records. Volckmar, whose 
father was also a pastor, was born in Curau in 1766, graduated in 
theology in 1792, came (as Diakonus) to "Wesselburen in 1797, 
where he died in 1814. He was a man of wide education, a good 
writer, brilliantly endowed in fact, but dissolute. He lost both 
first and second wife within three and one-half years, and in 1804 
he took as a third wife his former servant girl, already the mother 
of two children. On this occasion he promised to receive and bring 
up these children as if they were his own, as they probably were. 
His general reputation was such that he was excluded from his 
pulpit for a time. Unfortunately the author does not tell us when 
this was. The truth of his hypothesis would involve the conclusion 
that the pastor remained incorrigible till the end. 

The church records also furnished some information in regard 
to the poet's mother. Until 1875 it was the unvarying custom in 
Wesselburen to affix the word Junggeselle to the name of the man, 
and the word Jungfrau to the name of the girl in reporting a mar- 
riage between such persons. In this case the term Junggeselle is 
employed for the artisan Hebbel, but not the title Jungfrau for 
Antje Schubart. The author has official assurance that this is 
significant. Further, it is noted that the marriage took place in 
Wesselburen, and not in Wohrden, where, however, the records 
show that both parties to the contract had lived several years prior 
to their engagement a bit of new information the author brings 
out. Was this due to their fear of gossip in Wohrden? 

That the young wife of Glaus Friedrich Hebbel had abundant 
opportunity to become acquainted with Volckmar after the removal 
to Wesselburen is evident from the fact that she worked out in the 
better families in the village. 

As Janssen points out, the hypothesis, if true, would explain 
several things. First of all the sudden emergence of a genius in a 
family in which everyone else had been and remained on a low level 
of intelligence. Also it would account for the remarkable differ- 
ence in type between Hebbel and his brother, who never rose higher 


than his father. The author points out that Hebbel resembled 
neither his father nor his mother, w&s not in fact a peasant type 
at all. It might also explain why Friedrich was the object of his 
father's ill will and of his mother's special affection, although this 
could easily be explained by the boy's ambition to rise above the 
father's level. 1 

Where Bamberg got his idea, whether from the Nachlass or not, 
whether he destroyed what evidence he may have seen, whether 
Hebbel himself knew anything of such evidence, whether this may 
have been the reason he never returned to his native village these 
questions the author asks to leave unanswered. 

While this first chapter in Janssen's book is the most striking, 
it is not the most valuable. Those of us who attempt to get a clear 
picture of an author as a whole usually and naturally exhaust our 
energies on the outstanding problems of his life and productions. 
There are many minor issues that it seems either impossible or 
useless to follow up thoroughly. Here we rely willingly, too wil- 
lingly perhaps, upon previous investigators, who may have had the 
same feeling about the matter. In this way gradually a false tra- 
dition arises. Such has been the case with Hebbel, 2 and it is 
Janssen's distinct service to have made a new examination of the 
records, in some cases the first and only examination, with the 
result that he is able in many instances to correct or supplement 
the best authorities on the poet. For example, he shows that it 
was Dethlefsen's wife rather than Dethlefsen himself who took the 
initiative in furthering Hebbel's education (p. 16). Also, relying 
on a letter from Hedde, he thinks it proper to date the beginning 
of Hebbel's poetic firstling (Ringreiterfest) back from 1829 to the 
summer of 1828 (p. 113). 

The women discussed are Amalia Schoppe, Elise Lensing, and 
Christine Enghausen. The author presents the circumstances con- 

ir The author is generally fair in his argument. Hardly, however, in 
quoting the poet's fwrchtbares Urteil on his father (the well-known passage 
from the Tagebuch omitting all reference to the milder conclusion of it. 

*I keenly regret that this book reached me too late to prevent the con- 
tinuation of a part of this false tradition in my own biography of Hebbel. 
The error in the date of Amalia Schoppe's death, 1851 for 1858, is to be 
sure not of that kind, being an unaccountable oversight; but for the dates 
of her editorship of the Hodespiegel, 1827-1833 instead of 1827-1845, as 
Janssen asserts, p. 25, I relied on the Allgemeine d. Biographic. 


necting them with Heb'bel from their side, for a change, instead of 
from his. Particularly does he desire to vindicate the two former, 
and he is not in the least careful to shield Hebbel in the process. 
Bather the opposite. When we read the letters from Amalia 
Schoppe to a friend, published here (p. 26 f.) for the first time, 
we get an intimate view of an earnest and lovable personality, and 
we can easily agree with the author in deploring Kuh's somewhat 
supercilious characterization of the sittenrichterliche Jugend- 
schriftstellerin, partial if true, or any other condescending treat- 
ment of a woman who meant so much in the poet's life. The 
author's conclusion, however, that she and Hebbel stood by nature 
in profound contrast to each other, is hardly more than could be 
inferred from the poet's presentation of the case. That she per- 
mitted Schoppe to drive her to marry him by a threat of suicide in 
case of refusal again a new fact of Janssen's discovery is enough 
to characterize her once and forever as incomprehensible to Hebbel. 
Also it can hardly be said that Janssen's defense of her against 
Hebbel's accusation of having forced him to sign a polemical 
article of her own writing is really a defense. That Hebbel exag- 
gerated the importance of the occurrence may be true, but his was 
just the sort of nature to feel such an affront deeply. 

Most interesting is the rounding out of the fate of this woman, 
so unhappy in her children, as well as the discussion of the final 
disposition of Hebbel's letters to her. Her son, Alphons, whom 
she followed to America after he had dishonored their name in 
Germany, refused to return the letters upon the poet's request after 
his mother's death, and replied, rather rudely, that he had de- 
stroyed them. The author is convinced that these letters included 
the early ones, though that does not seem to me conclusive from his 
argument. It is a pity that his presentation of this part of his 
material is not clearer. 

Regarding Elise Lensing the author says : " Verleumdung und 
Zynismus haben ihr Bild beschmutzt ; ich habe versucht, es rein zu 
waschen." He repels as totally unfounded and malicious Gutz- 
kow's assertion that she was the cast-off mistress of a wealthy 
merchant at the time Hebbel met her, and denies that she had 
had a " past." 3 He establishes the place of her birth as Lenaen 

1 Hebbel, at any rate, does not seem to have been aware of any such state 
of affairs. Cf. Briefe, m, 6. 



an der Elbe, Oct. 14, not Leezen in Schleswig-Holstein, Oct. 18, 
as in Werner. Likewise he sets himself, with success, the task of 
destroying the tradition that she was eine ungebildete Ndherin, 
and proves that it is wrong to refer to her as a seamstress at all. 
The supposed modiste's shop she bought from Frau Baumgartner 
was in reality a tobacco store ! And the author makes it plausible, 
from the nature of her associates in Hamburg, that she earned 
money by teaching, a profession for which she was properly 
equipped. The " von " he thinks was added to her name by 
He'bbel, in his somewhat characteristic desire to shine with titles. 

Among the most successful passages in the book, it seems to me, 
is that on page 70 f., where the author presents Elise's case in 
opposition to Werners biography, pp. 242 and 275. It was the 
time of Hebbel's indignation at her conduct in Hamburg (see esp. 
his letter of Dec. 16, 1844), when he reproached her for using his 
name as that of her husband. Janssen points out that practical 
conditions, such as difficulty in leasing rooms, forced this upon her, 
and also that she had long been assuming Hebbel's ntaane with his 
knowledge and consent. Of course it is well known that he had 
already addressed letters to her as Frau DoTctor Hebbel. Thus his 
indignation in that letter came rather late. In general the cham- 
pionship of her case here is so good as to render a defense of the 
poet difficult. 

When a man's life lies before us as fully as Hebbel's in his 
letters and diaries, a minute examination of it will inevitably 
reveal many shortcomings. Who, when subjected to this test, his 
life surveyed as a whole from first to last, could come out un- 
scarred? Certainly Hebbel does not. And it is not his marriage 
with Christine that weighs most heavily against him, for in that 
act lay too much of the grimness of necessity. Other things are 
less excusable. It seems to be true that in spite of the touching 
words upon the death of his little son, Max, he allowed him to be 
buried in a pauper's grave. So also with the second child, and, 
far worse yet, so too with Elise herself, and that at a time when 
his circumstances were much better. Is it not a mystery, how 
Hebbel (and Christine) could have allowed this to happen? And 
Was it to spare her feelings, that she was kept strictly away from 
all company during her stay in Vienna, never making herself* 
known by name to the most intimate friends of the family? Per- 
haps so. 


Elise Lensing's letters to Hebbel were, as the author shows, in 
existence as late as 1896, when Christine, who had withheld them, 
promised to send them to the archives in Weimar. This promise 
was never kept, and Janssen supposes that they were destroyed to 
conceal some things that would have weighed heavily against the 

The chapter on Christine Enghausen describes the auspicious 
opening of her career as actress, and emphasizes particularly her 
untiring zeal in perpetuating the poet's memory and winning him 
proper recognition. She was fortunate in seeing these efforts 
crowned with success before her death in 1910. 

The Appendix, Aus H ebb el's Freundeskreis, gives us welcome 
information concerning Hocker, Brede, and others, and particularly 
follows the fortunes of Leopold Alberti in America. The author 
quotes liberally from an article by Alberti in the Hamburger Cor- 
respondent (Aug., 1877), directed against certain statements in 
Kuh's biography. Following the lead given here, he makes it seem 
likely that the poem entitled Ntichtliches Echo (WerJce, v, 150) 
belongs essentially to Alberti and not to Hebbel. It was nothing 
for Alberti even to be proud of. Why Hebbel should have appro- 
priated it is a mystery. 

This little book is, in short, an important contribution to our 
knowledge of Hebbel. The author deserves full credit for dis- 
covering sources hitherto unthought of, and for presenting us the 
results of his painstaking investigation with refreshing brevity and 
directness. He has thrown new light on a number of interesting 
questions, he 'has exposed an imposing array of errors. Under the" 
circumstances his noticeable satisfaction at being so often in a 
position to correct the redoubtable trio, Kuh, Werner, and Born- 
stein, is perhaps excusable. 


Randolph-Mncon Woman's College. 


Ordo Rachelis. By KAKL YOUNG. [University of Wisconsin 
Studies in Language and Literature, No. 4.] Madison, 1919. 

Of the four types of liturgical play connected with the Nativity, 
three, the Officium Stellae, the Processus Prophetarum, and the 
Officium Pastorum, have already been studied in considerable 
detail. Professor Young now undertakes to do for the Ordo 
Rachelis, or Interfectio Puerorum, what has been done for the 
Magi, the Prophets, and the Shepherds plays by Anz, Sepet, and 
Professor Young himself, respectively. 

He first considers all the Epiphany plays in which a dramatic 
treatment of the Interfectio is latent, tracing the stages by which 
they approach to an actual dramatization of this theme. The four 
texts in which he finds the Ordo Rachelis developed as a true 
dramatic unit he carefully re-edits from the manuscripts, analyzing 
them at some length and indicating their sources in the Vulgate 
and the liturgy. In the concluding sections of the study, the 
relations between these four texts are investigated, the views of 
Anz and Meyer criticized, and the question whether the Ordo 
Rachelis arose as a mere extension of the Officium Stellae or as a 
dramatic unit which developed independently and was later ap- 
pended to the Epiphany play is clearly stated, if not categorically 

Unfortunately, the four texts that have survived differ consid- 
erably in content and scope : the Limoges Lamentatio is a dramatic 
trope rather than a play; in the Laon text the Interfectio forms 
an integral part of an Officium Stellae ; and in the two long plays 
from Fleury and Freising, although Professor Young is probably 
justified in regarding the Ordo Rachelis as " a separate dramatic 
unit " (p. 23), this theme is nevertheless so extended and developed 
as to include a Fug a in Egyptum and, in the case of the Freising 
play, scenes from the Pastores as well. 1 From these texts and from 
the Epiphany plays discussed on pp. 6-13, it becomes apparent that 

1 Chambers indeed believes (Mediaeval Stage, n, 49-50) that at Floury 
and Freising the Pastores, Stella and Rachel have coalesced. He not only 
suggests that the Freising Ordo Rachelis may be intended to supplement 
rather than replace the Freising Ordo Stellae, but he finds it impossible to 
regard the Fleury Interfectio Puerorum as a separate play from the 


the dividing line between the Officium Stellae and the Ordo 
Rachelis cannot be definitely drawn : the Laon text with its rela- 
tively simple Interfectio is in many respects as closely related to 
the Compiegne and Freising plays as to the Limoges trope for 
Innocents Day. Professor Young's conclusion, therefore (p. 65), 
that the dramatic trope represented by the Limoges text arose as a 
separate creation, but that its use at the end of the Officium Stellae 
probably preceded its use as an independent play, seems to me both 
circumspect and convincing. 

That the solution of the problem of provenience is facilitated by 
considering the Innocents scenes apart from their context will 
readily be granted. One wishes, however, that in attempting to 
establish the textual relations existing between the various versions, 
Professor Young had extended his comparisons beyond these scenes 
to the scenes in the Epiphany plays with which they are most 
frequently connected and to the officia of which, in three instances, 
they form a part. ( On p. 49, note 64, some parallels are suggested, 
but their bearing on the textual interrelations is not discussed.) 
The similarities between the Fleury and Freising plays, for ex- 
ample, are far more extended than the likenesses between their 
Interfectio scenes would indicate, 2 and the fact that the Freising 
Ordo Stellae and the Fleury Ordo Rachelis alone substitute 
Armiger for Indolis in the verse Indolis eximie pueros fac ense 
perire seems at least significant (the Freising Rachel reads Etatis 
bime, all the other plays, Indolis) , 3 Perhaps, too, the connections 
between the Fleury and Laon plays might have been further em- 
phasized by a reference to the fact that the antiphon Sinite parvulos 
occurs in only two texts, those of Fleury and Compiegne, for the 
Compiegne text is in other respects closely related to the Officium 

The scenes preceding the Interfectio are conveniently compared in 
Davidson, Studies in the English Mystery Plays, pp. 50 ff. Note also the 
responsory Aegypte, noli flere used in the Flight scenes of both plays 
(Young, pp. 28, 49). 

The Freising Ordo Stellae, like the Fleury Ordo Rachelis, also keeps 
the prose Decerne, Domine which the Freising Rachel omits. These facts 
seem to me to lend some support to Chambers' hypothesis regarding the 
two Freising plays (see above, note 1). Both the Freising texts as well 
as the Fleury play have the Sallust tag (Incendwm meum) which occurs 
elsewhere in only two texts, one from Strassburg and one from Einsiedeln. 
(Cf. Anz, p. 136.) 


from the nearby cathedral of Laon. These are minor matters, 
however, and probably not calculated to shed much light upon those 
ecclesiastical relations that somehow produced similar liturgical 
plays in the cathedral of Freising near Munich and the ancient 
abbey of Fleury-Saint-Benoit on the Loire. Agreeing in general 
with Anz, though rightly rejecting his hypothetical reconstructions 
as well as Wm. Meyer's mythical German derivations, Professor 
Young concludes (p. 63) : " we are sure of a French tradition that 
includes Limoges and Laon and of a German tradition that includes 
Freising ; and in some manner the two traditions seem to be united 
in Fleury." 

The painstaking scholarship characteristic of all Professor 
Young's illuminating contributions to the field of the liturgical 
drama is evident on every page of this, study. An index of some 
sort, especially to the newly collated texts, would, one feels, have 
increased its usefulness, but in any case it lays students not only 
of the liturgical plays but of the mediaeval drama generally under 
a heavy obligation to its author. 


Baltimore, Md. 


The fabric of the Muiopotmos has sustained an activity of schol- 
arship hard on a thing so fragile. Are we breaking this delicate 
butterfly unnecessarily upon the wheel, by over-complexity of con- 
jecture? In the very name of Clarion, not yet satisfactorily ex- 
plained, there may be a clue to simpler interpretation. 

Mr. Long's suggestion x that Clarion is Spenser the lover in toils 
of a lady-Aragnoll, assumes, as Miss Lyon rightly thinks, a kind 
of compliment acceptable indeed as a sonnet-conceit but likely to 
be trying to a lady on so protracted a scale. Her own ingenious 
idea, 2 that Clarion is Raleigh in rivalry with Essex, still makes no 
allowance for the mock-heroic tone in this bright epic of the air, a 
tone which it is easy to feel with Mr. Nadal, 3 unless one has a thesis 
to prove. The older tradition, 4 that Clarion is in some sense 

1 Mod. Lang. Rev., ix (1914), 457-462. 

*PMLA., xxxi (1916), 90-113. 

PMLA., xxv (1910), 640, 656. 

4 James Russell Lowell, N. Am. Rev., 1875, p. 365. 


Spenser the poet, allows both the allegory and the mock-heroic. 
But Mr. Cory's variant from it, 5 that Muiopotmos represents 
Spenser's tragedy of idealism, the fate of the dreamer, leaves us 
wondering even more why a dreamer should have so lively a name. 
Spenser was used to speak of the " trumpets stern " as the in- 
strument of his Muse. It may well be that in his search, not too 
solemn, for a mock-heroic subject, he meant by his Clarion, not his 
personal experience, nor, quite so subtly as Mr. Cory supposes, his 
idealism ; but more literally his epic Muse, conceived again as a 
herald to trumpet forth the honor of the great, to glorify "the 
worthies " in " lofty verse/' 6 For such a meaning the word 
Clarion would in Spenser's mind be very apt, if we judge by 
analogous lines in the complaint of Calliope, Tears of the Muses, 

Therefore the nurse of vertue I am hight, 
And golden Trompet of eternitie, 
That lowly thoughts lift up to heauens hight, 
And mortal men have power to deifie, 
(Bacchus and Hercules I raised to heauen, 
And Charlemaine amongst the Starris seauen. 

But now I will my golden Clarion rend, 
And will henceforth immortalize no more. 

There is no likeness to the Muiopotmos situation in the later words 
of the Epic Muse. But here is epic poetry conceived as a " golden 
Clarion," as being indeed the " golden Trompet of eternitie " to 
honor mortal men. 

The failure of such championship would have been in Spenser's 
mind especially at about this time, if Mr. Cory (Chapter u) is 
right that Faerie Queene, i-in, printed at so nearly the same time 
and representing a part of the Leicester support, reveals at its 
close the disillusion upon which Spenser is entering, his lost hope 
for his England and for what Leicester was to be for England. 
But it may be doubted if the immediate years after the Armada 
could be years of disillusion for a man of affairs like Spenser. And 
it is better not to take Muiopotmos too seriously. For a mock- 
heroic, a frown of the "rugged brow" or a check to the pension 
in 1590 7 would be sufficient to make of Burleigh a temporary 


Wellesley College. 

'Edmund Spenser, a Critical Study, University of California Press, 191 <, 
pp. 187-189. 

See Shepheards Calendar, October, 11. 61-66. 

'See Percy E. Long, Engl .Stud., XLVII (1913), 202. 



In the course of revising and re-aligning notes on English manu- 
scripts, I have observed some points of interest, especially with 
regard to the now well-known Shirley codex at Trinity College, 
Cambridge, marked R, 3, 20. On my first examination of this vol- 
ume, more than twenty years ago, I stumbled upon the supposedly 
non-existent mummings by Lydgate, and printed the most striking 
of them in Anglia, vol. 22, for the year 1899. Most of the entries 
of the manuscript are now in print. Dr. Rudolf Brotanek pub- 
lished the other mummings in Die englischen Maskenspiele three 
years later, and in his remarks there on the codex, says that there 
is at its close a poem by its first possessor, entitled " The Kalun- 
dare of John Shirley," which gives important information as to 
Lydgate and his works. 

Such a poem does not exist in R, 3, 20 today, however. But it 
exists in Brit. Mus. Adds. 29729, a volume compiled by John Stow 
from " Master Blomfelds boke/' " Master Hanlays boke," " Master 
Stantons boke," etc., and with forty or more of its pages filled with 
copies from " John Shirleys boke." That this Shirley book was 
the Trinity R, 3, 20 codex is evident from the agreement of all 
S tow's Shirley-items with poems in the Trinity volume, and from 
the marginal notes by Stow in R, 3, 20, showing that it was at one 
time in his hands. The mummings are among Stow's copies, also 
the Life of St. Margaret, of which neither this transcription nor its 
original is mentioned by MacCracken in his Lydgate Canon; the 
only poem of the many selections which Stow marks as from Shir- 
ley and which is not now in the codex is his copy, at the end of 
these excerpts, of the table of contents or " Kalundare," 104 lines 
in short couplets. He expressly says that Shirley set the poem " in 
the beginning of his book"; Brotanek, probably thinking of its 
position in Adds. 29729, speaks of "at the close." 

The Trinity MS., as remarked, does not now contain the " Kal- 
undare." But though not apparently defective at the beginning, it 
lacks the first thirteen gatherings ; see Dr. James' description in his 
Catalogue, vol. n. And from this same " Kalundare," in Stow's 
transcription, we know what those gatherings contained; for lines 
21 and 22 read 

ffirst ye humayne / pilgrymage 
sayd all by proose in fayr langage. 

As Shirley explicitly says " all by prose," we might dismiss the 
conjecture that this could have been Lydgate's translation, which 
is in verse, and believe that the lost text was more like the prose 
" Pilgrimage of the Lyfe of the Manhode," existing e. g. in Ff v, 
30 of the University Library, Cambridge, and edited thence by 
William Aldis Wright for the Roxburghe Club in 1869. This work 


fills 204 quarto pages of print, and E, 3, 20 lacks presumably 104 
leaves, or 208 pages. But later in the " Kalundare " Shirley says 
of Lydgate that he 

aught well be solempnysed 

Of all oure engelishe nacion 

ffor his famus / translacyon 

Of this booke and of other mo. 

It would be straining probability to argue that Shirley means a 
translation of the Pelerinage by Lydgate other than that he here 
transcribes; yet, are we to believe in a prose version by Lydgate 
alongside his bulky verse-rendering? 

We can understand why Stow should pass by the continuous 
prose of the Pilgrimage to transcribe the brief occasional poems of 
the latter half of E, 3, 20 ; the rimed table of contents at the begin- 
ning caught his fancy, and he appended it to his group of selec- 
tions, thereby preserving a record of what filled most, if not all, of 
the missing thirteen gatherings. This " Kalundare " in Stow's 
copy, the original Shirley " Kalundare " of Brit. Mus. Adds. 16165, 
and various bits showing Shirley's work as a publicist will be 
printed in my volume From Gower to Surrey, now nearing com- 
pletion. Shirley's limited though eager activity had no such effect 
on his time and on later times as had the work of the great 
translator-printer Caxton; but he was an editor in a small way, a 
sort of lesser very much lesser Frederick James Furnivall, whom 
he resembles in his indefatigable zeal for Chaucer and for Lydgate, 
his interest in his chosen work, and in the cheerful personal direct- 
ness of his " forewords " addressed to an earlier English Text 
Society, the nobles and gentles to whom he lent his books. 




Folk-lorists are well aware that the lay of Marie de France, Les. 
Dous Amanz, is still told in various forms among the peasants of 
Normandy. The mountain up which the gallant young lover car- 
ried his sweetheart is still shown, and flowers, sprung according to 
Marie from the spilling of the magic potion and unknown to the 
surrounding country, are said to be found there. The best-known 
version in modern French literature is that of Ducis, La Cote des 
Deux Amiants. (Oeuvres, Paris, 1826, in, 335 ff.) He obtained 
his information in 1812 while visiting Mme Gueroult and Mme 
Hauguet, wife and sister-in-law of the proprietor of the Chateau 
des Deux Amants. In a Notice historique Ducis quotes from a 
letter of Mme Hauguet which gives the legend as they knew it. 
" Les lumieres . . . ne sont puisees que dans la tradition du pays, 


et quelques notices de Darnaud, de Saint-Foix et de Madame de 
Genlis, toutes restreintes et de meme nature. Le vieux chateau de 
la vallee d'Andelle e"tait oocupe par un seigneur de Pont-Saint- 
Pierre, contemporain de Charlemagne. Sa fille, nominee Caliste, 
jeune et belle, fut aime"e et devint eprise d'un jeune paysan, nommo 
Edmond, serf de son pere. Ce pere, pour desesperer leur amour, 
imagina de mettre a son consentement une condition impossible. 
II promit qu'il lui donnerait sa fille, s'il pouvait la porter de suite 
et sans aucun repos jusqu'au haut de la cote qui regne sur le 
chateau et toute la vallee d'Andelle, et la deposer sur son sommet, 
quoiqu'il fut regarde comme inaccessible. Le jeune homme, par 
une force et un courage incroyables, arrive au sommet, y depose sa 
conquete, penche la tete, fixe des yeux pleins d'amour sur elle, et 
tombe mort de fatigue. Son amante meurt a 1'instant de douleur. 
Tel est le fond de Fhistoire. Le pere, trop tard attendri et repen- 
tant, fit eriger par la, suite le prieure des Deux Amants au haut de 
cette cote; mais il fit enfermer les deux corps dans un meme cer- 
cueil, et les fit transporter dans la chapelle la plus voisine, depen- 
dante du monastere de Fontaine-Guerare." 

The most important change from the lai of Marie is the trans- 
formation of the lover into a serf. Durdan suggests that this may 
have come from a misunderstanding of one of the terms by which 
Marie designates the youth : vaslez, which was taken to mean valet, 
domestic, and so serf. Ducis has added some details of his own 
invention so that the lai is almost unrecognizable in his version. 1 

In all the versions which I have found, it is the lover's task to 
carry the lady. But Maupassant, in his novel Notre Coeur, 2 
alludes to a form of the story which is less familiar. He is report- 
ing the soliloquy of a lover, wounded by the coldness of his mistress. 
" Le souvenir d'une vieille histoire lui vint, dont on a fait une 
le"gende: celle de la Cote des deux amants, qu'on voit en allant a 
Eouen. Une jeune fille obeissant au caprice cruel de son pere, qui 
lui de"fendit d'epouser son amant si elle ne parvenait a le porter 
elle-meme au sommet de la rude montagne, 1'y traina, marchant 
sur les mains et sur les genoux, et mourut en arrivant." And he 
concludes : " L'amour n'est done plus qu'une legende, f aite pour 
etre chanted en vers ou contee en des romans trompeurs." 

There is obviously no reason to suppose that Maupassant knew 
either the lai of Marie nor the poem of Ducis. He had doubtless 
heard some form of the popular legend from his Norman peasant 
friends. The interesting question is whether he has merely con- 
fused the role of the lovers, intentionally changed it, or heard the 
variant which he gives. 


University of Texas. 

1 For modern versions of the story, see Warnke's edition of the Lais, 
Halle, 1900, and A. L. Durdan, Le Lai des Deux Amants, Macon, 1907. 
* Paris, Ollendorff, 1890, p. 208. 


A NOTE ON King Lear 

In his discussion of the character of King Lear, Professor 
Bradley x says, " And, finally, though he is killed by an agony of 
pain, the agony in which he actually dies is one not of pain but of 
ecstasy." Assuming the truth of this statement, as indeed one 
must, we should do well to examine Lear's last words to discover, 
if we can, what causes the joy. This is the final speech : 

And my poor fool is hang'd. No, no, no life! 

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, 

And thou no breath at all ? Thou'lt come no more, 

Never, never, never, never, never! 

iPray you, undo this button : thank you, sir. 

Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips, 

Look there, look there! 

Obviously Lear thinks that Cordelia is being revived, that she is 
alive. Nothing could give him such an impression but the feather 
or the glass with which he had been vainly experimenting. Cer- 
tainly the feather did not move, and certainly no mist stained the 
glass. How, then, can we explain the illusion ? Is it not possible 
that his eyes tremble and grow dim at this last moment and that 
he thinks that the feather has stirred? Or, if it is the glass that 
he is still holding in his hand (I can find no evidence as to which 
he is using), may not the mist filming his own eyes be that which 
he imagines he sees on the glass? We have evidence as to Lear's 
eyesight. In the interval between his entrance with Cordelia's 
body and his death (55 lines) there are four references to his 
feeble vision : " Had I your tongues and eyes/' line 259 ; " This 
feather stirs ! she lives ! " line 266 ; " Mine eyes are not o' the best," 
line 280; and " This is a dull sight/' line 283. It therefore seems 
possible, if not probable, that Shakespeare attempted to emphasize 
Lear's failing sight in order to have at hand a ready explanation 
for the self-deception apparent in his last words. 

Dartmouth College. 

1 Shakespearean Tragedy, p. 291. 


The Poems of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey. By Frederick 
Morgan Padelford (University of Washington Publications: Lan- 
guage and Literature, vol. i. Seattle, 1920). The raison d'etre of 
this book is so well expressed by Professor Padelford that one must 
be pardoned for quoting the paragraph in full. " It is now rather 
more than a century since George Frederick Nott published his 
elaborate edition of the works of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey. 
Since then no scholarly edition has been attempted. During this 
time, however, many facts bearing upon the career of Surrey have 
come to light, a noteworthy biography has been published, studies 
dealing with various phases of the poetry have appeared, and 
manuscript versions of many of the lyrics and two fresh texts of 
the fourth book of the JEneid have been discovered. The time 
therefore seems ripe for a new edition that will take advantage of 
this fresh knowledge, giving more authoritative readings in the 
poems and furnishing the equipment needed by the scholar. The 
present volume aims to meet this need." Nothing can be said 
against this program. Professor Padelford's purpose is justified by 
the reported facts and circumstances. 

It is not an equally simple matter to pass judgment on the 
execution of this purpose. Having in mind Professor Padelford's 
trustworthy scholarship, and his constructive skill, one is predis- 
posed to pass a favorable judgement on every feature of this work. 
But after an effort to construe all 'findings' favorably, there 
remains the conviction that he has compelled his colleagues to ask 
a number of questions that reflect aspects of disappointment. The 
form of the publication, of course, suggests an application of the 
law of the " kinds." Conventionally an academic monograph is not 
governed by the structural principles of a book. Altho yielding to 
the desirability of starting a new series of University Publications, 
Professor Padelford's prefatory statements indicate that he has 
had in mind the making of a ( book/ " published to the common 
profit and delectation of the many," rather than a monograph for 
the use of specialists. He has produced a scholarly edition of 
Surrey's poems which will take its place by the side of Foxwell's 
edition of The Poems of Sir Thomas Wiat in critical value, but the 
difference between his " Critical Notes " and Foxwell's " Commen- 
tary " is rather unfavorable to the general usefulness of his work. 

Professor Padelford had a goodly share in the preliminary 
investigations for making accessible the texts of Surrey's composi- 
tions in the most authentic form. In respect, therefore, of this 
feature this "new edition" has a value and significance of first- 



class order. But editorially, or in the matter of planning a book, 
all has not been done to facilitate the use of this new material. 
Helpful would have been a tabulation of the poems with reference 
to manuscripts and printed books, giving a view of the textual 
sources and traditions, which is left to be gained by a sifting of the 
Textual Notes and the Bibliography. At all events one feels that 
the facts under this head might have been presented in a fashion 
to require less effort of the reader in bringing together separated 
passages. For example, what is to be noted respecting the occur- 
rence of No. 38 in MS. E. is not indicated on p. 173, but on p. 219 
(where, however, the number is misprinted 39). Similarly with 
No. 21; the statement on p. 171, "Found also in D." does not 
suggest the fact recorded on pp. 186, 219; and what is said of 
No. 21 in connection with Harl. on p. 219 is not confirmed on 
p. 186, nor is it in agreement with Anglia xxix, 273. Moreover, 
the specific designation by numerals (p. 219) of the poems in Harl. 
and also of those in D. and E. makes conspicuous the lack of the 
corresponding designation of the three poems in Hill; and in lieu 
of the suggested tabulation, the twenty-eight poems of P. and the 
eighteen of A. should also have been numbered. Another detail 
may be added to show how difficult it will be for the studious reader 
to find the desired information on a particular point. Where is 
he to find a statement of what constitutes the manuscript or printed 
basis of the JEneid n ? Is he to make the inference from " Certain 
Bookes" on p. 220; or turn to The Mod. Lang. Review, xiv, 164, 
or elsewhere? 

Professor Padelford has had the advantage of availing himself 
of the opportune moment for an attractive task. That attractive- 
ness is surely due in good measure to the privilege of presenting 
the results of a number of special investigations. The degree of 
satisfaction with which the investigator observes the report and 
incorporation of his work must be a test of how the reporter has 
done his work. Let this test be applied to the critical note (pp. 
200-201) in which is summarized what is known or conjectured 
concerning ^Eneid u. Now, should one expect Dr. Dittes to be 
quite content not to be mentioned in this connection? And does 
the rather incidental occurrence of the names Imelmann and Fest 
serve to give the reader a just estimate of what these scholars have 
contributed to the subject? Also in the critical introduction to 
jfEneid iv, there is not offered the desired well-constructed report 
of the several important investigations listed in the Bibliography. 
Besides, there is here a striking disproportion in the allotment of 
space to the different sides of the subject. Especially dispropor- 
tionate is the space devoted to the evidence of certain grammatical 
features and metrical details. Unfortunately the grammatical 
forms, in this instance, are of little consequence as evidence; and 
the metrical details are misinterpreted. Amends for all this, how- 


ever, Professor Padelford has made in supplying a most desirable 
editon of the text of sEneid iv. The Tottle and the Hargrave 
texts are printed side by side and the readings of the only extant 
copy of D are exhibited in collected form on the basis of Tottle. 
The three sixteenth century ' versions ' are thus with scrupulous 
accuracy made accessible for further study. 

By no easily drawn inference from the prevailing character of the 
" Critical Notes " is Professor Padelford' s exact purpose made ob- 
vious; one cannot with certainty describe the particular class of 
readers he has had in mind. Notes interpretative of thought and 
figure are either too meagre or altogether wanting to attract and 
instruct the more general reader ; and the scholar too will look in 
vain for a satisfactory indication of what has been accumulating 
in this department of study. It would be unfair to require the 
compiler of a commentary to report with uniform minuteness all 
preceding interpretative suggestions; yet there is a tribute to be 
paid to precedence in time that is usually well deserved. Thus, 
to take a simple example, altho the comment on No. 4 is inter- 
pretative in the desired sense, why should not a reference be made 
to Dr. H. Nagel, who in_1889 also placed the three texts before 
the reader and added a discriminating comparison of the methods 
of Surrey and Wyatt? And Professor Padelford, who so well 
appreciates the helpfulness of a well constructed critical apparatus 
of study, would certainly have gratified his colleagues by supplying 
all references to show in detail how the recorded judgments and 
observations have been arrived at. Dr. Koeppel gave the clue to 
the method one has in mind in this connection. He listed what 
Nott had noted with respect to sources, and then proceeded to his 
own additions and modifications. No commentator should do less 
than apply this method when dealing with the study of Surrey's 
poems, which is marked by definite stages of progress. That Pro- 
fessor Pedelford has put the reader and student to a disadvantage 
by not observing this method as consistently as possible may be 
seen by turning to the notes on No. 15 (p. 185), where the first 
note is due to Nott and the second to Koeppel (p. 85). Com- 
parison of notes on No. 11 (p. 182) and the editor's Early Six- 
teenth Century Lyrics, p. 130, suggests the question, Why have 
the designations "(N.)" and "(K.)" been cancelled. Details of 
this class may appear to be too unimportant to sustain the weight 
of serious criticism ; but Professor Padelford will not regard them 
in that light, for it is obvious that he has had a pattern in mind 
that has led him, without his conscious consent, beyond the limits 
of approved conciseness. 

As a whole the critical notes on the JEneid represent careful and 
efficient consideration of the various classes of pertinent details. 
But one must regret the absence of a philosophic discussion of the 
cultural aspects of Surrey's indebtedness to preceding translations. 


As to the order in which the two books were translated, the editor 
is ' inclined to think ' that the second book preceded the fourth ; 
but so far as this conclusion (perhaps expressed with too much 
caution) is based on metrical features it is not undeniably strength- 
ened. In this division of the argument, as also in that which 
relates to the comparison of the three forms of the fourth book, 
metrical details are not well handled. There is a fundamental 
error here, that is easily detected in the statement that Surrey 
intended " a judicious inter spersion ctf trochees and other feet " 
(p. 207), and in the use of the descriptives anapaests and amphi- 
brachs. The permissible resolution of arsis or thesis corrects the 
misunderstanding of the rhythm. And it should be clear that 
there is a misleading use of terms that properly describe a mere 
sequence of syllables and not a possible rhythmic or structural foot. 
The (Alexandrian) amphibrach is one of these non-structural 
forms, so is the amphimacer, and the pyrrhic, and the tribrach. 
Dionysius of Halicarnassus declared the rhythmic quality of the 
amphibrach to be specious ; and the simplest law of rhythm should 
have diverted Skeat from the attempt to prove its structural use, 
and have convinced Mr. Omond that " our metrists " have " some 
reason" for not recognizing it as an English foot (A Study of 
Metre, p. 94). 

The Introduction consists of " The Dramatic Career of Surrey " 
(pp. 7-36), and "Surrey's Contribution to English Verse" (pp. 
37-42), two chapters unequal i n length and differing widely in 
value. The titular use of the term dramatic is appropriately de- 
scriptive of the poet's short and eventful career, which Professor 
Padelford has sketched in a finely sympathetic and effective man- 
ner. What is here done must leave little more to be done in the 
tracing of the relation between the series of public and political 
events and that of the influences and circumstances of the poet's 
literary activities. In the second of these introductory chapters 
one finds less that is complete. Wyatt and Surrey as poets are 
compared, but in terms that are for the most part too general ; and 
Surrey's " contribution to English verse " is considered chiefly with 
reference to the external forms of poetry, and with insufficient 
critical analysis of his poetic art as a whole. 

This publication represents an excellent preparation for a handy 
and well-made book to take the place of the Aldine edition, and 
Professor Padelford's colleagues must surely be of one mind in 
hoping that he will proceed to supply that demand. 

J. W. B. 


English and American teachers who prefer an abbreviated and 
expurgated Rabelais to the unadulterated text will welcome Read- 
ings from Rabelais by the late W. F. Smith, recently published at 
the Cambridge University Press. Known by a translation of Rabe- 
lais, by articles in R. E. R. and M. L. E., and by Rabelais in His 
Writings (Cambridge, 1918), he was well qualified to make this 
edition. The selections include about a fourth of Rabelais's chap- 
ters. Brief summaries of the others are added. All four books 
are represented, most largely Gargantua and the Quart Livre. 
While most of the chapters given are essential to an understanding 
of the author, I miss the prologue to Gargantua, the brilliant 
Propos des beuveurs, far more important to a student of style than 
the giants' Ciceronian correspondence, the speech of Janotus de 
Bragmardo, Panurge's talk about debtors and creditors, the inter- 
views with Trouillogan and Judge Bridoye, and the account of the 
storm in the Quart Livre. Still more regrettable is the fact that 
Mr. Smith found it necessary to expurgate his text so extensively. 
In so doing he prevents a full appreciation of Rabelais's curiosity, 
humor, and gift of expression. He loses much of the sustantificque 
mouelle we are invited to enjoy. Occasionally, too, the reader is 
misled as to the meaning of the passage. Thus eulx retornans 
(p. 9) makes no sense because the fact that Gargantua has gone 
"es lieux secrets" has been modestly omitted. Again le (p. 136, 
11. 10, 11) cannot be understood, for the noun to which it refers 
has been removed. 

Except where such devotion to bonnes mceurs has interfered, the 
text has been carefully reproduced after the editions of Abel Le- 
franc, Jouaust, and Marty-Laveaux. The notes are, in the main, 
satisfactory, but a glossary is still needed for the student who is 
beginning his acquaintance with sixteenth-century forms and voca- 
bulary. While waiting for the completion of M. Lefranc's edition 
of Rabelais, scholars may consult with profit Mr. Smith's notes, 
particularly for information with regard to Rabelais's sources, 
nearly all of which he thought he had determined. The edition is 
accompanied by an adequate account of Rabelais's life, with no 
attempt, unfortunately, at literary criticism, by an appendix on 
the educational system which Rabelais combated and another on 
J. E. Sandys and Mr. Arthur Tilley. 

H. C. L. 

VOLUME xxxvi APRIL, 1921 NUMBER 4 


Students of the mediaeval drama have not failed to recognize the 
importance of Dr. Karl Christ's discovery of the oldest known 
French Passion play among a mass of neglected manuscripts in 
the Palatine collections of the Vatican. His edition of the text 
which now appears in Zeitschrift fur romanische Philologie, XL, 
405-488, is accordingly most welcome. 

The difficulties incident to the publication of a unique manu- 
script have been increased in the present instance by the fact that 
almost all rubrics are wanting in the text, so that the division of 
the lines into speeches and the ascription of such speeches to the 
proper speakers are often matters of pure conjecture. Dr. Christ 
has displayed excellent judgment in solving most of the problems 
involved, and his edition presents a very readable text of the play. 
His brief but well-chosen notes on its literary and linguistic aspects 
serve as an admirable introduction. He is especially to be com- 
mended for printing the manuscript practically as it stands, indi- 
cating the expansion of abbreviations by italics, 1 introducing com- 
paratively few emendations, and resisting all temptations to 
"regularize" the rhythm and the rhymes. He puts into parentheses 
lines, words, and sounds which he conceives to be uninspired addi- 
tions to the text, and although his conclusions in these matters may 
not always satisfy his readers, it is in any case far better that a 
manuscript not readily consulted should thus be presented in its 

1 The wisdom of expanding mil by molt may well be questioned since the 
unabbreviated form throughout is mout (once mont, 1546), never molt. 



first edition in an unmutilated form than distorted by editorial 

This is the more important for the Palatine Passion because the 
work itself is composite in character, and linguistic consistency 
cannot justifiably be demanded of it. Unfortunately, the two Paris 
manuscripts of the so-called Passion d'Autun, which are related to 
the Palatine Passion, were inaccessible to Dr. Christ because of the 
war, and the old narrative poem the Passion des Jongleurs upon 
which much of it is based was unkonwn to him in its original 
form. Accordingly, the editor, although vaguely aware of the 
commingling of older and newer elements in the play (see pp. 408, 
409 note 1, 423) was not in a position to differentiate between 
them by means of objective criteria. 

A comparison 2 of the play, however, with the texts related to it 
has established the fact, I think, that the oldest stratum comprises 
the passages which derive from the narrative poem, that a later 
stage is represented by the lines which correspond to lines in the 
Passion d'Autun, and that, finally, those revisions and additions 
which distinguish the Palatine Passion from the other texts in 
a general way, the stanzaic forms, the " humorous " incidents, and 
certain conventional scenes in which omissions and rearrangement 
can be detected are to be attributed to its latest redactors. How 
completely all these elements may have been fused by the final 
revisor cannot be ascertained, but since Dr. Christ has studied the 
language of the play without attempting to distinguish the strata 
underlying" it, it may be worth while to assemble the available 
evidence, such as it is. 

1. Versification, (a) The greater part of the Palatine Passion 
is written in octosyllabic couplets. The presence of stanzaic forms, 3 
however, distinguishes it from the old narrative poem, from the 
Sion fragment published by M. Bedier (Romania xxiv, 86), and 
from the two versions of the Passion d'Autun. Since these stanzaic 
forms occur in precisely those parts of the play for which the 
other texts offer no parallels, 4 we may safely assume that they are 

a See Publications of the Modern Language Association xxxv, 464-83, and 
Modern Language Notes xxxv, 257-69. Through the kindness of M. Lucien 
Foulet I was able to obtain photographs of the two Paris manuscripts. 

'Stanzaic structure is more frequent than Dr. Christ indicates (pp. 415- 
6) . Cf. P. M. L. A. xxxv, 478, note 24. 

4 A few lines in the Planctus Mariae and St. John's reply (1089, 1094-8, 


late additions in our text, (b) As Dr. Christ points out (p. 416), 
most of the individual speeches in the Palatine Passion end with 
a completed rhyme, a fact that would lead one to think that in the 
north, as in the south, the so-called mnemonic scheme of connecting 
succeeding speeches by rhyme did not originally prevail. Speeches 
unconnected by rhyme occur in every stratum of the text, in the 
latest additions as well as in the older parts. There are, however, 
some thirty-three instances (excluding single lines) where the last 
line of one speech rhymes with the first line of the succeeding 
speech, and these instances seem to be relatively more frequent in 
those parts of the play that have been most recently added: the 
dialogue between the three Maries and the Spice-merchant, the 
scenes in Hell, and the scenes between Cayn and Huitacelin, 
including the casting of the lots. It would be hazardous to assert, 
however, that a later redactor, or later redactors, having learned 
or formulated a new rule, proceeded to put it into practice in this 
text : the division of the rhymes when it occurs seems to arise from 
an increased freedom in technique (or from chance) rather than 
from the conscious application of a rule. 

2. Elision. The a of unaccented monosyllables, as well as the 
final atonic a in polysyllables, is sometimes elided, sometimes not, 
before a word beginning with a vowel. Examples of the non-elision 
of a in atonic monosyllables are fairly numerous, but seem to occur 
only in the couplets (some thirty-seven examples) and in the 
stanzas rhyming aaa 8 b 4 (three examples). Instances of the non- 
elision of final atonic 9 in polysyllables occur in every part of 
the text. 

3. Hiatus. In general, pretonic vowels, whether initial or non- 
inital, and post-tonic 9, when standing in hiatus with a stressed 
vowel, retain their syllabic value. The exceptions noted, 5 as well 

1131-9, 1220-5; note that 11. 1116 ff. belong to St. John, not Marie Magde- 
laine) are reminiscent of lines in Bib. Nat. n. a. fr. 4085 but that they have 
been adapted to the stanzaic structure is obvious. 

"Christ, loc. cit. p. 417. Many of the "exceptions" occur elsewhere in 
their older forms, e. g. pretonic a is not syllabic in veoir, 1208, 1886, but 
cf. 11. 483, 1731, 1884 where it is; cf. preeschemens, 1043 with preescha, 
239; cf. beneoite, 837 with beneite, 860, etc. Christ does not observe that 
in the case of veez it is only the imperative which is monosyllabic; cf. also 
asseez, 909 and probably creez, 533, although the imperative creez is dis- 
syllabic in 305 and 521. 


as the examples of non-syllabic inter-consonantal pretonic a, seem 
to be due to late redactors, that is, they occur in those parts of 
the play for which the associated texts furnish no parallels. Most 
of them are in the stanzas or in episodes unknown to the other 
texts. A few which appear in lines that are related to lines in 


these texts are obviously editorial: for renvoierez, 1. 412, n. a. fr. 
4085 has retournes (note that envoierai, 434, has the usual four 
syllables) ; and for essuierai, 91, n. a. fr. 4085 and 4356 both have 
paneray. The prevalence of the older forms, however, even in the 
latest additions to the text, indicates that its final redaction 
occurred before these forms had to any extent been displaced. 

4. Phonetics. The rhyme eus : savoureus, 1082-3 and the 
assonance deul : pleur, 1094-5, testify to the fact that the later 
pronunciation of stressed free o (6) had come into use before the 
text, as we have it, was complete. It may be noteworthy, however, 
that these two (unique) 6 instances both occur in an elaborate 
stanzaic Planctus which is probably a late addition to the texK 
On the other hand, the older pronunciation is seemingly ~ attested 
in the following rhymes: preuz : touz, 173-4; jours : seigneurs, 
860-1 ; menour : entour, 929-30 ; jour : greigneur : trmtour : dou- 
lour, 1145-8; seigneur : amour : douleur : couleur, 1176-9; dou- 
lour : amour, 1718-9. It seems not unlikely therefore that most 
of the text was written before the change o > o occurred. 8 

5. Morphology. The two-case declension of nouns and adjec- 
tives was apparently observed until a very recent stage in the 

The assonance (?) l(i)eu6) : jour, 1870-1 (cf. Christ, Zoc. cit. p. 
418 ) in the ( late ) Epicier's harangue can hardly be in question. 

7 There is of course much uncertainty concerning this question, and one 
cannot be dogmatic. It has merely seemed significant that the later pro- 
nunciation is attested by rhyme only twice and in a recent addition to 
the text. (On the identification of '-our and -eur in the fifteenth century 
and even earlier, see E. Langlois, Recueil d'Arts de seconde rhetorique, 
Paris, 1902, xliv; m, 154; iv, 209, and H. Chatelain, Recherches sur le 
vers francais au XV" siecle, Paris, 1908, pp. 39-41, 231.) 

8 Christ (p. 418) emphasizes the prevalence of the representation of n 
by eu (-osus by -eus, -or em, by -eur) in the manuscript, but pronunciation, 
not spelling, concerns us here. At the rhyme-end, however, even the scribe 
is relatively conservative: o is represented by ou or o twenty times, by 
eu twenty times, the ratio of eu to ou or o in the body of the text is 
much higher. 


development of the text had been reached. In the rhymes, the 
older forms, often attested, are almost universal, and in several 
cases where newer forms appear the rhymes may be recovered by 
merely substituting the earlier forms in their place. 9 In a few 
instances, 10 however, later forms are seemingly required by the 
rhymes, and since they do not occur in the oldest parts of the text, 
they are probably to be attributed to editorial or scribal revision. 
Adjectives of the type grant have in general but one form in the 
masculine and feminine. The feminine tel occurs seven times, 
and of the eleven instances where the scribe writes tele, tel is 
required by the rhythm in at least six, possibly more. 11 The cer- 
tain instances of tele can be quite surely ascribed to later strata 
of the text. The feminine quel appears in 1. 1739 and originally 
occurred in 11. 989 and 1726, 12 where the manuscript has quele. 
Only the older forms appear in the feminine plural (289, 1993). 
In two of the later metrical Complaints, however, we find cruere 
in rhyme twice (1152, 1220), beside cruel (1143). 13 

' Older forms, as shown by the rhymes, originally occurred in 11. 303, 615, 
1399 (the MS. reads saw/), 1603, 1664, 1677, 1690, 1736, as well as in 11. 
292, 978, 1115 ('Christ has emended here), and 1966, since -s and -z are not 
differentiated in the rhymes. Older forms may have been present (since 
the rhymes would not be destroyed thereby) in 11. 666-7, 913-4, 1259-60, 
1291-2. For syntactical reasons one may read deliver -e\z\ : nez, 1449-50 and 
avenu(z) : venu(z) , 1655-6 (Foulet, Petite Syntaxe, 115-7). The plural 
may have replaced the singular in 684 where O. F. P. has the plural. 

10 In 11. 273, 1011, 1090, 1108, and probably 1574 (cf. druz, 569). 

Tel is written: 823, 836, 950, 1033, 1148, 1208, 1846. Tele is written 
but tel required: 859, 1806 (this line should be octosyllabic, see note to 
1805-8), 1893 (see note to this line) ; and (before a vowel) 294, 1516, 1889. 
Tele is written and possibly required (emendations, or the assumption of 
hiatus, seem plausible in some cases) : 270 (the preceding lines derive from 
O. F. P., these do not), 1085 (stanzaic Planctus), 1741 (the passage is in 
both the Sion fragment and n. a. fr. 4085, but this line does not appear 
in either), 1976, 1991 (though possibly one should read tel(e) here; 1976 
and 1991 do not belong to the earliest strata of the text in all probability) . 

M Cf. the Sion fragment, 1. 28 and Sneyders de Vogel, Neophilologus 
(1917),m, 9. 

"Dolente is of course as old as the oldest documents (Schwan-Behrens, 
Grammatik, 306) . Dr. Christ cites as " isoliert " a few cases of the more 
modern nominative forms of the unstressed masculine possessive pronouns. 
The statistics are: won, 2, ton, 4, son, 1; mes, 5, ses, 1. In the plural 
only mi and si occur (11 instances). The more modern nominative forms 
of the article are also less infrequent than he assumes (p. 422) : le and lea 


The results of these tests for stratification, unsatisfactory as 
they may be when considered individually, seem nevertheless when 
viewed as a whole to yield some information concerning the date 
of the play. They point to the lapse of some time between the 
first and the final redactions, and of at least a short period 14 
between the later redactions and the scribe of our manuscript. If, 
with Dr. Christ, we place the transcription of the manuscript in 
the first part of the fourteenth century we may conveniently date 
the work of the later redactors toward the beginning of that 
century, and we need therefore feel small hesitancy in assuming 
that the earlier strata of the play were written in the thirteenth 
century. 15 

The conjecture that dramatic representations of the Passion of 
Christ, written in French, took place before the fourteenth century 
is accordingly confirmed. 16 How much of the Palatine Passion 
may have been played thus early ? A priori hypotheses concerning 
what should constitute an archaic Passion play have assumed that 
grotesque, humorous and gruesome elements would be wanting, 
and that characters unnamed in the Gospels would not appear. 17 
If we except the scenes of the forging of the nails and the boasting 
of the knights, these assumptions are proved correct. The bargain 
of Judas and the casting of the lots, in their present form, the 
supplices of the scourging and Crucifixion, the diablerie, the spice- 
merchant's harangue, the names of the servants, torturers, execu- 
tioners Cayn, Huitacelin, Joel, Mosse, Haquin and Evramin as 
well as the stanzaic portions of the text are probably all due to 

The following suggestions emendations, corrections, additions 
are offered for what they may be worth in a second edition of 
the play. 18 

occur 10 and 3 times, respectively, li, singular, and li, plural, occur 56 
and 37 times, respectively. 

"Long enough for the two-case declension to have disintegrated further 
and for the representation of stressed o by eu to have become more general. 

M A terminus a quo is furnished by the old narrative Passion, written 
"at the close of the twelfth or beginning of the thirteenth century," see 
F. A. Foster, The Northern Passion, E.E.T.S. 147, p. 49. 

"Jeanroy, Journal des Savants, n. s. IV (1906), 480. 

1T Jeanroy, Zoc. cit. pp. 482-3. 

18 Abbreviations used : 1 ) MSS. Bibliothfcque Nationale, n. a. f r. 4085 and 

Line 59. Read se(r)ans for seraus (cf. 64, 704, 1351). U, n, and v 
seldom are clearly differentiated in the manuscript, and the epenthetic r 
may result from the peculiar treatment of r in the text; on rhymes in 
which r is disregarded and on spellings in which r replaces n and I see 
Christ, loc. cit. 420; on paller and Pylatre see notes to 11. 327 and 439, 
below. The derivation of serous, a Hitherto unknown adverb, from serau, 
serault (p. 476) is unconvincing. 71. Read saien[s] seront. 78. Cf. the 
variant readings of O. F, 'P. 188 : Tant que soie de mort resours ; 4085, fol. 
146 r: Jusque de mort relevera; and 4356, fol. 3 v: Tant que de mors relevg 
seray. 93. Cf. 4085, fol. 146 r: 

Bien sce(t) que il ly plairay 
Et de mes peche"s pardon aray, 
and 4356, fol. 4 r : 

Bien scai que quan il me vera 
Mes pechies me pardonera. 

103, 108. Substituting iij for the MS. reading iiij destroys the rhythm. 
Cf. O. F. P. 92 (GOPQVO') : II valoit bien iij c deniers. 115. The source 
of this line (O. F. P. 105) reads: Mais longuement ne m'avre's mie 
(Matthew xxvi, 11). 142. The MS. reads Q' (=Que) which should be pre- 
served. Cf. L. Foulet, Petite Syntaxe de I'ancien francais, 184. 143-4. 
Should be assigned to 8. Pierre, as in 4085 and 4356. 155. Why change 
the MS. reading a to of '159. Read Ci ( paleographically possible) tie ving 
for Qui ne vint. Sic O. F. P. 253, C. Presentie is probably presomptie (cf. 
the spellings presort,., presumcie, presencious in Godefroy's examples). 
Christ's interpretation seems to assume presentie = pressentiment. 161. 
Read jus for sus, and cf. O. F. P. 256. Read also m'envoia: the scribal 
vagaries in this verb are not humored in 11. 590 (MS: men voie), 876 (MS: 
me voie) , etc. 181. This line should not be bracketed. Cf. O. F. P. 427 ff. 

210. Here and 919 read Enpreu, not En pren. Cf. Godefroy, s. v. Empreu, 
Cotgrave, s. v. Empreut, and G. Paris in Romania xvn, 100. 239. Read 
preescha for preescha. 254. This line may possibly have been spoken by 
Uns luis, Si being equivalent to Cil, as often in this text. 288. This line 
should probably be attributed to Cayfas. 

300. The MS. reads: q ( = que). 327. In the stage direction following, 
delete [r] in pa[r]le. Cf. 749, 841. These examples should have been 
included in the second section 11, p. 420. (The first 11 is a misprint for 
10.) 340. Bracket (Que). Cf. O. F. P. 772. 346. Cf . 0. F. P. 785-6 : 

n. a. fr. 4356 are cited as 4085 and 4356, respectively. 2) Excerpts from 
the Old French Passion, or Passion des Jongleurs, cited as O. F. P. are 
from H. Theben's edition (Die altfr. Achtsilbnerredaction der Passion, 
Greifswald, 1909 continued by E. Pfuhl, Die weitere Fassung, etc., Greifs- 
wald, 1909) with variants from the MSS. used by him and from O' = F. A. 
Foster's edition in The Northern Passion, Early English Text Society 147 
(1916), pp. 102 ff. 3) The Passion de Bemur (published by Roy, Le 
mystere de la Passion, pp. 73* ff.) is cited as Semur, or Sem. 


II meismes s'est bien jugie"s, 
Or s'est il dou tout empirics. 

Emperiez is from the verb empirier, emperier ( see Godef . Compl. ) . Correct 
Christ's note and vocabulary, and insert commas after jugiez and prevoz. 
351. Keep the MS. reading and cf. O. F. P. 883. 370. Read parle[r]. 
373. Read Dire ai ot with O. F. P. 899, DSO'. 398. The space in the MS. 
hardly admits the reading nous. Read lef Cf. 4085 fol. 154 v: Devenes 
tost apertement / Ou tu en aras bien aultrement. 

402. Indented in the MS. Possibly dramatic, as Christ interprets, but, 
since the line is indented, rhymeless, and lacks a syllable, more probably a 
stage direction: Parole n'a paroU. 409-31. It seems probable, from 1. 435, 
that Annas spoke all these lines. 418. Probably F ( = Par) not P' ( = 
Pour) is omitted. Of. 589, 680, 733. P' does not occur elsewhere in the 
MS. 422. The MS. reads alumes, not ralumes. 439. The MS. reads 
Pylatre. Cf. note to 1. 59, supra. 450. Bracket (salue et). 456-9. Cf. 
O.F.P. 807-9: 

Or voit Judas qu'il est dampness 

Et ses sires a mort livre's 

Par lui et par sa traison. 

491. Keep the MS. reading. 499-500. Read m'atendez for m'entendez. Cf. 
4085, fol. 151 r: Or m'atant tanque reviendra / Et le fait je te contera. 

507. Read: Quant [sui] eschape", moy e[s]t bel. The scource is Mark 
xiv, 51-2 on which see Roy, op. cit. 223. Cf. 0. F. P. 576-7: 

Fuiant s'en va; moult li fu bel 
Quant de lor mains fu escape's, 
and 4356, fol. 10 v: 

Quar suis echape", bien me vet. 

517 ff. On the identity of those to whom Peter denied Jesus, see Duriez, 
La Theologie dans le drame religieux (Lille and Paris, 1914), p. 386. The 
scene in Pal. is a mosaic of lines taken from O. F.,P. In 4356 Aquim puts 
the question the first and third time, Malchus the second. In 4085 un Juif 
addresses Peter twice, la chambetiere the third time. 543. MS. co. Read 
com[e]. 545. According to Dr. D. S. Blondheim, to whom I am indebted 
for many helpful suggestions regarding the text, some of the Jews in the 
play bear contemporaneous Jewish names : Haquin = Isaac, Mosse" = Moses, 
Evramin = Abraham. Huitacelin may be a diminutive of Eutace. 574. 
Read ne[l\ ? 575. Read s'ai je for sai, j'e. 593. Read dites for dire and 
place a period after bel. 

602. The unscriptural position of the Casting of the Lots is peculiar to 
this play. 605. Delete comma after tu. 617. MS: Aussit. I should delete 
the / in 616 and the comma after Aussit, and place a colon after deviserai. 
619. Read with the MS: que [li] miex. (Cayn is trying to persuade 
Huitacelin.) 620-1. Read (me) rather than (Et) and place a period after 
remaigne. Si que = cil qui. 631 ff. Surely a new speech begins with 631. 
I should assign 631-4 to Huitacelin, 635-6 to Cayn, 637-41 to Huita., 642- 
53 to Cayn. :634. Read: Aussi estoit ele a mi. The Picard forms of the 


pronoun are freely attested by the rhymes, and the rhyme ie:i occurs in 
11. 1191-4. Cf. Christ, p. 418. -635-7. Note the change in the gender of the 
los; of. 630-2. 648. Read me tien and delete the statement (p. 422) re- 
garding the " unusual " form metien. 664. Head le n'oi and keep ne. 
699-700. Bracket (tu) , 699 and supply [tout} before apertement, 700. 

701. It is apparent from O. F. P. 1066 ff. and 4085, 156 v, that there is 
an omission after this line. 720-5. In 4085 Li Juis tons a ung oris speak 
these words. 729. Read Sanglentee (agreeing with char) ; this is hardly 
an instance of neglected rhyme, as stated on p. 418. 742-7. These lines 
probably belong to Joel, 11. 748 ff. being Pilate's rejoinder. 776. The orig- 
inal probably read Qu'en. 8uer must be dissyllabic. 795. Reenclees, which 
Ch. annotates (p. 480) as "wohl fur reeler, nfz. reler," is from draoncler, 
raoncler, raancler (cf. Godefroy: suppurer, apostumer, and New Eng. Diet, 
a. v. rankle). 

822. Meaning of geteesf Dr. Blondheim suggests reading ge[r]cees. 
830. MS : cloficher. 897. Marmitaine, which Ch. translates as Murmelticr, 
is probably related to marmite, marmiteus, in the expressions faire le 
marmite ( = faire le bon apdtre, I'hypocrite, cf. Godefroy, s. v. marmite (3) 
and Littr6, s. v. marmiteux) , faire le marmiteus (=l'afflige, etc. See 
Godefroy's examples s. v. marmiteus, and especially Greban's Passion, 1. 
19392). 919. Cf. above, note to 1. 210. 937. For li ren si read li reus t. 
An extra syllable is needed and examples of ren, masculine, in this meaning 
are rare. Reus (coupable, accuse) supplies the requirements of sense and 
rhythm, and is paleographically as likely as ren. 945-6. These unusual 
accusations do not occur in other early plays. In Sem. 7415, on of the 
Jews exclaims: Quel confesserres de beguygnes! 947-52. On the analogy 
of Sem. 7462-5 and because of 1. 953 these lines are probably to be attri- 
buted to Caiaphas. Ung Juifz speaks them in 4085. They derive from 
O. F. P. 1459-64. 959. The editor writes this name variously as Pilates, 
Pylates and Pilatus (348, 1469). 990-1. Cf. O.F.P. 1439-40 and vari- 
ants. Mss. PV read: "Mere," fait il, "pour ce pent chi / Qu'esgarde la 
voie einsi." 996-7. Cf. O.F.P. (GP) 1445-6: 

Voia ci Jehan en leu de moi 
Comme fils soit ensemble o toi. 

1002. Bracket (je). O. F. P. 1453 reads: Sire, je ferai ton plaisir. 1007. 
Keep the MS. reading: done (imperative, second person singular). Exam- 
ples of the non-elsion of final atonic in both monosyllables and poly- 
syllables are numerous (see p. supra), as the editor admits, pp. 416-7, 
but his emendations occasionally obscure them. 1014. Ausi is of course 
aisi, aisil, English eisel. The two drinks (Matt, xxvn, 34, Mark xv, 23 
and Matt, xxvn, 48, Mark xv, 36, John xix, 29) are variously combined in 
the plays. Cf. the Arras Passion (ed. J.-M. Richard), 17310, and Greban's 
Passion 25936-7. The variants of O. iF. P. 1529 include suie et fiel, mierre 
et essil, vinaigre pymant et suye, and lexive. On aluine see Tobler, Altfr. 
Worterb. which cites Gl. Glasb. 157 b: "hoc aloe : aloine." 1019-35. 
These lines are probably all to be attributed to the same speaker, as in 


4085 and 4356, where a nameless Jew (Matt, xxvn, 47) speaks them. 
1044 if. Dr. Christ's references should include The Legend of Longinus 
by R. J. Peebles, Bryn Mawr Monograph Series,' ix, 1911. 1046. MS: 
erranWtt. 1052. MS: ses (=ces). Supply [je] ? 1056. MS: Pardones. 
1071 ff. This Planctus seems to exhibit stanzaic structure to 1. 1088. From 
there to 1115 it continues in couplets but with lines of varying lengths: 
aabb 8 , 1088-95; aabb 7 , 1096-9; aaW, 1100-3; aaW, 1104-7; aaW, 1108- 
12; aa*bb T , 1113-5. I should therefore insert [moi], 1092; and bracket the 
second (se je) , 1095 (me),, 1099, and ( des ) sevree, 1105. 

1116-1209. This entire Planctus belongs to S. Jehan, the rubric after 
1195 being a scribal error. Not only are the corresponding lines in 4085 
spoken by St. John, but the masculine las ( always lasse in the complaints 
of the Maries) occurs in 11. 1169, 1182, 1189. 1124-5. Read Veoies for 
Veen [ci], 1124. In 1125 the MS. reads souffrir. 1158. Read sa for laf 
1173-4. I should place a comma after 1172 and read: 

Que vous tant de bien n'i avez 
Ou vostre chief mettre puissiez. 

These lines, like 1534-5, seem to be a reference to Luke ix, 58: Filius 
autem hominis non habet ubi caput reclinet. On the connection of this 
verse with the story of the Passion, see F. A. Foster, The Northern Passion, 
E. E. T. S. 147, p. 67. To Miss Foster's notes on Corpus Christ! College, 
Cambridge, MS. 405, p. 375, I am indebted for these lines: 

En la croiz pendeit, 
E la ne pout trover 
Sun chef ov reposer, 
Taunt fu mene" ( ?) estreit. 

1181-2. I read the MS. nutant (=nun tant, i. e. nee unus tantum) and 
punctuate: period after 1180, comma after Dame, and exclamation point 
after 1181. Supply [felon] after li, 1182. 1195-6. Bracket (Saint Jehan). 
See above, note to 1116-1209. 

1215-6. Read 0$, 1215. In 1216 the MS. reading may be kept. Of. Mark 
xv, 34, and with encoy nonne compare Godefroy's examples of anquenuit, 
as well as of enqui. 1227-8. This is evidently but one line. Bracket 
(vous) and (que est fait). 1242. Read: Mout po li a dure s'honeur. 
Elsewhere in the text the unstressed feminine possessive pronouns always 
elide their o before a vowel. The later forms do not occur. 1250. MS. 
deable. 1255. Read: En prit, que il i avoit raison: 11279 ff. The stanzaic 
structure probably precludes the exclusion of 1281, 1299 and the assump- 
tion of a lacuna after 1291. I should replace the interrogation point, 1283, 
with a comma and put an exclamation point after 1281. The present 
reading misses the force of the imperfect subjunctive in feit, 1283. It may 
be that originally 1283-7 were assigned to Primus Diabolus, and onp should 
read me for te, 1283. 

1313 ff. With this catalog of those in Hell, cf. L'tivangile de Nicodeme 
(S. A.T. F. 1885), p. 110; the Old French Passion (PfuhPs edition), 
1621 ff., and Karl Pearson, The Chances of Death, (London, 1897) n, 341. 


1348. Read with the MS: a la bell'oe (<auca). Besloi is masculine, and 
the stanzaic scheme is abab abab. 1354. Head de for net 1357. MS: 
sosfter. In 1381 also the MS. reads: sousflerai. 1373-6. These lines are 
troublesome and might well have been discussed in the notes. Aprochait 
(which Ch. seems to assume is the third person perfect, cf. p. 417) should 
be subjunctive (after avant que), and is perhaps an example of the south- 
eastern form ( see Schwan-Behrens, 353 A, and on the identification of 
oi and ai in the text, Ch., 419) . I suggest keeping nearer the MS. in 1376: 

Avant que il de nous aprochait, 
Quar espooir il se cach[er]a(t). 

The rhyme ai : a is of course frequent in the text. It is possible that 
1373 ff. may have been spoken by Secundus Diabolus. 1379 ff. This speech 
probably belongs to Primus Diabolus (Satan) whose bold stand is through- 
out contrasted with the timidity of Secundus Diabolus (Enfer). Of. M. J. 
Rudwin, Der Teufel in den deut. geistl. Spielen (Hesperia, vi), 114ff. 
1387, 1390. In 1387, bracket (Vous) . In 1390 I read the MS: deite, not 
dette, which satisfies the sense and the meter. J399. The MS. reads: sauf. 

1396-1410. It is more likely that these lines are to be divided between 
Jhesus and Primus Diabolus, perhaps as follows: 1396, 1398-9, 1402-5, 1410 
to be spoken by Jhesus; 1397, 1400-1, 1406-9, by Primus Diabolus. Lcrres 
mortaus surely refers to Jesus and 1408-9 are more apposite in the 
mouth of Satan. Cf. the Alsfelder Passionsspiel, 7129. In the Redentiner 
Osterspiel there is a short dispute, and in the York play a long one, 
between Jesus and Satan at this point. It is not certain that the order 
of 11. 1407-8 is to be reversed: the MS. reading gives the strophic forms 
aab aab (1396-1401), aabb aabb (1402-10). 1418-9. The devil's retire- 
ment to Lombardy refers to the unsavory reputation of the Lombards in 
the Middle Ages as usurers, poisoners, etc. Cf. P. Champion, Francois 
Villon, I, 299 and Cotgrave's Dictionary s. v. Lombard. 1426-9. 1426-8 
were probably spoken by David: Tune sanctus David fortiter clamavit 
dicens Cantate domino canticum novum (Gospel of Nicodemus, A vm 
[xxiv] ) . 1429, the beginning of the Palm Sunday hymn attributed to 
Theodulphus (for editions see Chevalier, Repertorium Hymnologicum) , was 
probably sung by Li saint. 1439. This line should be bracketed as the 
scribe's erroneous repetition of 1. 1437. (I read the last blurred word as 
merraie, not mennie). L. 1440 should follow 1438 without break and the 
MS. reading be preserved. 1452, 1457. In 1452 I read the MS. ces, not oes, 
which needs no emendation. 1457 should end with a comma, not exclama- 
tion point. 1495-7. For numerous examples of this proverb see Mon- 
merque' et Michel, Thtdtre francais, p. 198-9. In 1496 read tou[t], and 
on the use of Car in 1495 see Suchier, Reimpredigt (Bib. Norm. I, p. 66). 

1519. Read aves* 1595. The -insertion of [de] is unnecessary. 1599. 
The MS. reads: Qi a estre ne nous croi mie. The meaning seems to be: 
Qu'ifl] a (i. e. est6 amble 1 ), estre ne nous croi[t] mie. 

1623. Insert [et] after prophete. '1665. This line should not be bracketed. 
The original probably read chevalier in 1664. 1667. Read nus for nous 
( =the subject of veille as well as of vient). Cf. 1. 1683 where the MS. 


reads nus (Ch. reads uns) and 4085, fol. 172 r: Et se nulz vient que tout 
soit tuer (sic). The plural les in 1669 and 1684-5 may be compared to the 
similar confusion in colloquial English expressions like " If anyone . . . 
they." 1677, 1681. In 1677 read truans. In 1681 read n'avrions. 1683- 
5. In 1683 I read the MS. nus. Keep les in 1684-5. Bracket (vous) in 
1684. Cf. note to 1667 supra. 1690. The emendation is unnecessary and 
introduces an extra syllable. Read gaaing[s]. 1691. There are four 
knights in O. F. P. and in the Anglo-Norman Resurrection, but only three 
in 4085. In the latter the first knight threatens Paul and Peter, the sec- 
ond Philip, James, Symon, Thomas and John. There are reminiscent lines, 
but the development is not parallel in the two plays. 

1716 ff. Christ suggests Psalm 56, 9 as the source. Cf. also Psalm 43, 
23-6 which is adopted by the German plays at this point. (Wirth, Ostcr- 
und Passionsspiele, Halle, 1889, p. 91.) 1741-2. The transposition of the 
MS. readings in these lines effects no improvement. 1767-74. Read veil 
(voil does not occur in the text) for voi, 1767? LI. 1769-74 probably 
belong to another knight, the capital letter of 1767 being intended for the 
second Mais. 1769. In 1769 the second word in the MS. maybe;'e (instead 
of le) ; leu may be for le (a scribal slip, or a variant of lou which occurs 
in 891). '1797. Read fais for faites and muer for muer. 

1805-8. These lines were intended as an octosyllabic quatraine monorime, 
corresponding to 1785-8. Cf. P. M. L. A. xxxv ( 1920) , 478, note 24. There- 
fore in 1805 delete the inserted [Tie] ; in 1806 read com(ent) and tel(e). 
1816. Malaate (for maleoitef) is insufficiently explained in the glos- 
sary. 1825-50. The complaints of the Maries were probably spoken (or 
sung) antiphonally. Cf. Lange, Lat. Ost. p. 161, the Sainte-Genevieve 
Passion, p. 298, Semur 8881 flf., etc. 1837, 1843. In 1837 the MS. reads: 
preudons. In 1843 bracket (Des). 1864. The unguentarius appears as 
early as the eleventh century in the liturgical drama (see K. Young, 
P.M.L.A. xxrv, 302). 1890-1. Among the properties ascribed to San- 
guisorba officinalis (la pimprenelle ) , according to E. Rolland, Flore popu- 
laire, v, 270 is its ability to rendre le teint frais aux femmes. 1893. Read 
Tel(e) and conserve a. 

1910. Read a'i(d)e. 1913. There is probably a lucuna after 1912 due 
to turning the folio. Delete brackets. 1930 ff. Not spoken by Marie 
Magdelaine since she would be la plus jeune (1936) and therefore could 
not be Vous qui parllez, 1934. 1046-7. Between these two lines supply the 
rubric (Mark xvi, 4) : Et respicientes viderunt revolutum lapidem, and in 
1947 read: Suer, or va bien [nostre] besoigne. 1949. I read the MS: 
entrer n'i puissons. The insertion of [ne] is unnecessary. (1954. I read 
the MS: Nazaro. 1981. The emendation is incorrect, or at best super- 
fluous. If nous, as usually in this construction, is the indirect object of 
enseignier, the past participle would not agree with it; if nous be con- 
sidered the direct object (a much rarer construction), the past participle 
need not agree with it (see Foulet, Petite Syntaxe, 114). The line is of 
course too long in any case. 




In a recent review 1 of Miss Simmons' monograph on Goethe's 
Lyric Poems in English Translation prior to I860, 202 pp., 
Madison, 1919 (University of Wisconsin Studies in Language and 
Literature, No. 6), Professor W. Kurrelmeyer has singled out for 
close scrutiny those pages of the book that deal with the poems in 
Carlyle's translation of Wilhelm Meister. His findings suggested 
a re-examination of what must be admitted to be a rather compli- 
cated question. The results of this gleaning were somewhat surpris- 
ing and seemed sufficiently interesting to warrant the publication 
of the following notes. 

First. On the basis of the editions accessible to her and of 
Carlyle's prefaces of 1824 and 1839 reprinted in them, Miss 
Simmons apparently considered herself justified in assuming that 
the 1824 text of the Apprenticeship followed closely the German 
original and that it remained substantially unchanged in the 
subsequent editions of 1839 and after. She therefore registered 
the poems found in the later editions, as for instance the Centenary 
Edition, under the year 1824 as the date of their first publication. 
Professor Kurrelmeyer, by comparison of the text of 1824 with 
that of 1839, shows that this assumption is not warranted. Carlyle 
allowed himself in 1824 at least one marked deviation from the 
German original, and in 1839 he made several not insignificant 
changes in the text of 1824, notwithstanding the fact that in the 
two prefaces he makes statements which seem to preclude such a 
procedure. The relation of the different editions of Carlyle's 
Wilhelm Meister has never been made the subject of specific inquiry, 
and considerable uncertainty on this point exists apparently to this 
day. Even Professor Kurrelmeyer's important corrections do not 
tell the whole story. 

In his preface of 1824 Carlyle writes of the Apprenticeship: 
" Fidelity is all the merit I have aimed at . ... to alter anything 
was not in my commission. . . . Accordingly, except a few phrases 

1 Mod. Lang. Notes, xxxv (1920), 487-492. 



and sentences, not in all amounting to a page, which I have dropped 
as evidently unfit for the English taste, I have studied to present 
the work exactly as it stands in German/' But in spite of this, 
the entire thirty-two lines of Philine's song in Book v, Chap. 10, 
are omitted. In the preface of 1839, on the other hand, in speaking 
of the relation of the new text to the earlier one, he merely says 
that in the Apprenticeship he "made many little changes"; and 
yet, aside from whatever other divergences may or may not exist, 
this innocent reference to " little " changes is meant to cover the 
reinstatement of the omitted song of Philine and a complete rewrit- 
ing of Mignon's song at the opening of Book in. 2 

A feeling of uncertainty is bound to result from the consideration 
of these facts. It will be even increased if one examines, for 
instance, the text of the Collected Works of 1858 (16 vols., London, 
Chapman and Hall). Volumes xv, and xvi, which contain Wilhelm 
Meister, furnish no statement whatever as to any further changes 
or revision. Nevertheless, in Mignon's song alone I notice as many 
as five not unimportant deviations from the version given by Miss 
Simmons (p. 19), which according to Professor Kurrelmeyer 
follows the text of 1839 (I myself have no access to this or any of 
the earlier editions) . They are the following : 

I, 1. 1839 : ... where lemon-trees do bloom, 

1858: . . . where citron-apples bloom, 

I, 6. 1839: O my beloved one, I with thee would go! 

1858: O my true lov'd one, thou with me must go! 

rr, 3. 1839: . . . and look me on: 

1858: . . . and look each one: 

n, 6. 1830: ... I with thee would go! 

1858 : ... thou with me must go ! 

in, 1. 1839: Know'st thou the mountain bridge that hangs on cloud? 

1858: Know'st thou the hill, the bridge that hangs on cloud? 

* In the light of such loose and misleading statements one becomes scepti- 
cal even in regard to the 1839 text of the Travels, of which Carlyle says 
that he " changed little or nothing " as compared with the original text in 
German Romance of 1827. The presence or absence of change in the lyrics 
is of course easily discovered, provided one has access to the respective 
editions; but other changes would reveal themselves only through a 
systematic comparison*. 

Thus Miss Simmons; hardly correctly. The Centenary Edition, in the 
text, prints " mountain, bridge," as do the other editions available to me, 
while in his "Introduction" Mr. Traill, the editor, prints "mountain- 
bridge." Of. ibelow, foot-note 6. 


Most of these changes are rather questionable. The second and 
fourth are hardly intelligible in view of the original German, 
" Mb'cht' ich mit dir . . . ziehn !," especially as they even necessi- 
tated a corresponding change in the text of the novel itself. In 
which edition these altered readings were first introduced and how 
long they maintained themselves I am unable to say. So much is 
certain, that the 1858 edition enjoyed for some time the reputation 
of the best standard edition of Carlyle's Works and that the changes 
cannot possibly be considered as unauthorized. 4 At any rate, there 
are then not only two, but three different versions of Carlyle's 
rendering of Mignon's famous song, of which, to be sure, the second 
and third are far more closely related than the first and second. 

The first version, of 1824, which is not easily accessible and 
which Professor Kurrelmeyer prints in full on p. 491, has not, as 
it might seem, entirely escaped Miss Simmons. She has registered 
it on p. 129, as of the Edinburgh Review of 1825 (vol. XLII, 428), 
where it occurs in a long unsigned article (by Jeffrey, the editor) 
on the 1824 edition of the Apprenticeship. As the latter evidently 
had appeared without mention of Carlyle as the translator, Jeffrey 
treats it as published anonymously. Nevertheless it is perfectly 
clear that the reviewer is dealing with Carlyle's translation, and 
Miss Simmons would have done well to follow up this clue and 
not simply record the rendering of the poem as "anonymous," 
as she has done. 

As regards the Centenary Edition (30 vols., London, Chapman 
and Hall, 1896 ff.; vols. 23-24, 1899), generally regarded as the 
completest and most trustworthy edition of Carlyle, it apparently 
prints both parts of the novel according to the edition of 1839. 
At least the text of Mignon's song is clearly that of 1839. 5 Never- 

*It is interesting to note that of recent popular editions those in 
Everyman's Library and in Warner's Library of the World's Best Literature, 
perhaps in consequence of copyright arrangements with the London pub- 
lishers, have continued, to print this 1858 version, whereas later editions 
by Chapman and Hall seem to have given it up again and returned to the 
text of 1839. " A new edition, revised " by Houghton Mifflin & Co. (2 vols., 
Boston, n. d.) shows even the following contamination: the 1858 version in 
the first four instances, but the 1839 reading (mountain, bridge) in the fifth. 

5 In the rendering of the Minstrel's song, " Wer nie sein Brot mit Tranen 
ass," the first stanza in the Centenary Edition ends, " ye heavenly Powers." 
All other editions accessible to me read, " ye gloomy Powers," and in 
Carlyle's Goethe article in the Foreign Review of 1828 (n, 105) I find "ye 


theless the editor, H. D. Traill, thruout his " Introduction " does 
not so much as mention the revision of that year. On the contrary, 
he connects Carlyle's work on the translation exclusively with the 
years 1823-4. He states at some length that " at that particular 
stage of his career," i. e., late in 1823, Carlyle was " inspired, 
perhaps for the first and last time, as a verse translator by Mignon's 
famous song," and thereupon, to prove his point, admiringly quotes 
the first two lines of the last stanza in the completely altered 
version of 1839 ! 

Know'st thou the mountaimbridge 6 that hangs on cloud ? 
The mules in mist grope o'er the torrent loud. 

It is perfectly clear therefore that he is as little aware as is Miss 
Simmons of the existence of the earlier (1824) version of Mignon's 
song, and his further remarks about what he conceives to have been 
Philine's special attraction for Carlyle no matter whether in itself 
the point is correctly taken or not plainly show that he knows as 
little as she does of the original omission of the damsel's song. 

Mr. TrailFs introduction is moreover meant to apply not only to 
the Apprenticeship, but to the novel as a whole, and he indeed 
refers in it to the Travels as well. Nevertheless, the only period 
which he assigns to Carlyle's work on Wilhelm Meister is that from 
September, 1823, to early in 1824 ; nor is there any mention of the 
fact that the Travels originally formed part of the Specimens of 
German Romance (1827). The "Introduction" 5 ' to the latter 
(vols. 21-22), from which the Travels are of course omitted, does 
not contain one word of explanation either. In fact, Mr. Traill's 
two introductions, taken together, would amply justify the con- 
fusion which prevails on this point in numerous works of reference 7 

unseen Powers." I am unable, at this writing, to account for this change 
in the Centenary Edition and wonder whether it is actually Carlyle's. 
Interesting, in this connection, is a statement by A. H. C[lough] in his 
review of the 1859 edition of Aytoun and (Martin's Poems and Ballads of 
Goethe (Fraser's Magazine, vol. :LIX, 713): "There is ... an evident 
unwillingness to render himmlischen simply and without any addition by 

This is not even the reading of his own subsequent text (of. above, foot- 
note 3), and I am inclined to believe that there is no authority for it 

7 Cf . e. g. Wiilcker's misleading statement in his GeschicJite der englischen 
Literatur (1896, p. 559), where, after mentioning the work on the Life of 


and which is even supported by some of the editions of as respon- 
sible and widely known publishers as the London house of Chapman 
and Hall. I refer, for instance, to their undated edition in three 
volumes of the Apprenticeship and Travels (evidently identical 
with vols. 33-35 of the People's Edition, 1871-74; published in this 
country with the imprint of Scribner, Welford and Co. of New 
York). The text printed is probably that of 1839, clearly not the 
earlier texts of 1824 and 1827, but none the less each one of the 
three volumes (even vol. 3, which contains nothing but the 
Travels!) bears on the title page the utterly misleading date, 

In the light of so astonishing a situation as this. Professor 
Kurrelmeyer^s censure of Miss Simmons for not having " the least 
knowledge, or concern, about earlier and later versions ... of 
Carlyle" would seem to apply with even stronger force to the 
editor of the Centenary Edition, who, no doubt, enjoyed the 
advantage of access to all the earlier editions concerned. 

Second. As regards the lyrics in Carlyle's translation of the 
Travels, Professor Kurrelmeyer shows that Miss Simmons has 
created considerable confusion in her Index E. Not only does she 
assign to the year 1824 the lyrics from the Travels, which were not 
published till 1827, but, despite Carlyle's definite statement in his 
Preface of 1839, she fails to recognize that he translated from the 
German edition of 1821 and adhered to this text even after Goethe 
in 1829 had published a second version of the Wanderjahre, which 
in many respects differs widely from that of 1821. 

The error is a serious one. As a result, five poems which Carlyle 
never translated have been erroneously assigned to him, while six, 
which he did translate, have not been listed. Fortunately, practi- 
cally all of these " poems " are single short stanzas, some of them 
merely " Spriiche " of two or four lines, so that the illegitimate 
gain amounts in all to 56 lines, the unjustified loss to only 22 lines, 
all of them very little known and rarely printed. This circum- 
stance is not mentioned to excuse Miss Simmons, but merely to 
show the proportionate extent of the defect in an investigation 
which attempts to survey, for a first time and under exceedingly 

Schiller in 1823-24, the author continues: "eine Ubersetzung von Goethea 
' Wilhelm Meister ' schloss sich an, und 1827 folgte eine ' Sammlung von 
deutschen Erzahlungen ' (Specimens of German Romance)." 



. difficult conditions, a material consisting approximately of 500 
single poems and " Spriiche" with a total of over 10,000 lines, in 
1500 different versions or printings. 

i: Goethe's edition of 1821 was prefaced by a group of short poems 
or ' Spriiche/ all of which were omitted in the later edition of 
1829. In the Weimar edition, aside from being enumerated in 
front of the variants of the Wander jahre in vol. 25, 2, they are 
confusingly scattered thru different volumes and groups of the 
Gedichte, inclusive of the West-ostlicher Divan. Professor Kurrel- 
meyer, after pointing out Miss Simmons' error in overlooking these 
poems in Goethe and failing to recognize them in Carlyle, con- 
tinues (p. 489 f.) : 

" Carlyle translated all but two of these poems, which first 
appeared in German Romance (iv, 33 f.), and which could have 
been found in any subsequent edition of Carlyle's translation. The 
poems in question are: Wandersegen 8 (Weim. Ed. m, 160) ; Prilft 
das Geschick dich (vi_, 119) ; Was machst du an der Welt (vi, 
120) ; Enweri sagt's (vi, 121) ; Mein Erbtheil wie herrlich (vi, 
121) ; Noch ist es Tag (vi, 119)." 

Even this statement, however, does not correctly represent the 
actual situation. According to it, one would have to assume that 
Carlyle translated six poems out of a group of eight, whereas, as 
a matter of fact, the Wander jahre of 1821 were prefaced by eleven 
such pieces, of which Carlyle translated eight. Professor Kurrel- 
meyer, to be sure, mentions the two remaining renderings of Carlyle 
in a preceding paragraph, in which he deals with the " group of 
nine poems printed in the Weimar Edition (v, 24-31 ) 9 under the 
heading c Aus Wilhelm Meister/" without however stating that 
these two from this heterogeneous group belong also to the prefa- 
tory group in question. But even if this allowance is made, the 
statement should not be that Carlyle translated " all but two," but 
all but three. The three which he left untranslated are : Ehe wir 
nun welter schreiten (Weim. ed. iv, 19) ; Was wird mir jede Stunde 
so bang? (vi, 118) ; and Wie man nur so leben mag? (in, 162). 

8 I.e., "Die Wander jahre sind nun angetreten" ("To travel now th' 
Apprentice does essay " ) . The title Wandersegen, was not given the poem 
till later. 

Should read v, 1, 24-31. The poems in question are, W-usste Jcaum genau 
zu sagen and Und so heb' ich alte Sckatze. 


A clear and easy survey of this question is further complicated 
by the fact that Carlyle changed the order of those poems which he 
retained. Numbering consecutively from 1 to 11 the poems as 
listed in the Weimar edition (25, 2, 1), Carlyle translated, in 
order, 1, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 2, and left out 4, 5, 11. 

Professor Kurrelmeyer has clearly proved that in her discussion 
of the lyrics in Carlyle's Wilhelm Meister Miss Simmons has 
committed serious errors, and all interested in her study are under 
obligation to him for the thoroness with which he has proceeded. 
At the same time, in justice to Miss Simmons and her labors, it 
should not be overlooked that, a tyro, she went astray in a field in 
which even veterans and specialists have stumbled. 

There are no doubt other omissions and errors that will gradually 
show in some of Miss Simmons' bibliographical data, for a first 
survey of so extensive a field cannot possibly be expected to be 
perfect. But it is one of the services of her study, and not its. 
least, that it has furnished the pegs on which to hang future 
observations and chance discoveries, which heretofore have too 
often been destined to remain scattered or entirely unregistered. 
From my own collections I could furnish already quite a few such 
items. So no doubt could many others. Translation literature is 
a subject of investigation of which both the importance and the 
difficulty have long been underestimated. It has generally received 
but niggardly treatment in the bibliographies of both of the national 
literatures concerned in each case. The ground is therefore but 
ill broken, and much pioneer work will still have to be done before 
such efforts as, for instance, have been devoted to the bibliography 
of German literature in English translations in the third edition 
of volume iv of Goedeke's Grundriss can lay claim to even approxi- 
mate accuracy and completeness. 


University of Wisconsin. 


Two passages in this splendid Middle English poem have caused 
difficulty and various comments. The first is line 160 : 

And scholes under schankes }>ere >e schalk rides. 

Here the trouble centers about scholes, which Morris in his glossary 
explained as "hands down(?), or perhaps an error for shoes." 
Skeat (Trans, of Phil. Soc., 1903-6, p. 366) regarded it as mean- 
ing 'thin plates/ comparing Swed. skolla. He thought scholes 
in this place " the side-flaps of a saddle (to prevent the leg-armor 
from galling the horse) ." Cyril Brett (Mod. Lang. Rev., x, 189) 
rightly pointed out, as opposed to Skeat's note, that the word occurs 
in the description of the knight's dress, not the horse's accouter- 
ments. He suggested " leather or other protection under or inside 
the thighs," as in modern riding breeches. P. G. Thomas (Eng. 
Stud., XLVII, 311) tried to connect the word with OF. cholet, ex- 
plained by Godefroy as soulet ' little sole/ This would make the 
word equivalent to choletz, 1 with ch for sch. Such a ch for sch 
does occur rarely in the poem, as cheldez for scheldez ' shields ' in 
line 1611, though not there alliterating, and in worchip ' worship ' 
in 1976. Thomas's explanation of the phonology is not convinc- 
ing, however, especially if some simpler interpretation is possible. 
The word is not in the NED., so far as I have found. 

In spite of its extreme simplicity I propose scho-les ' shoeless.' 
The Green Knight has come to King Arthur's court in the simplest 
array. He bears no armor of the ordinary sort, either defensive 
or offensive. His head is bare except for his flowing locks. He 
wears a strayt cote, a mantile abof, green hose, and the spurs needed 
in managing his horse. From head to foot the intruder on the 
Christmas festivities differs from the usual knightly visitor. Com- 
pare with this the elaborate arming of Sir Gawain before he sets 
out on his quest, lines 566 to 589, and the special mention of ]>e 
sdbatounz, or steel shoes so important in the protective armor of 
the medieval knight. A quotation from Piers Plowman (B. xvm, 

1 With for Me. 3 when equivalent to voiced s, as always in this article. 


10-14) presents something of a parallel, and the last lines are 
especially to be noted: 

One semblable to the Samaritan and somedel to Piers the Plowman, 

Barf ate on an asse bakke botelees cam prykye; 

Wythoute spores other spere spakliche he loked, 

As is the kynde of a kny3te that cometh to be dulbbed, 

To geten hem gylte spores or galochea ycouped. 

I use the text of Skeat's edition, with semicolon instead of comma 
at the end of the second line. 

The word shoeless is not cited in NED. before Drayton's Agin- 
court 59 (1627), but that seems to me no bar to the interpretation. 
Our poet was quite capable of making such a simple compound 
parallel to botelees, ' bootless/ of the quotation above from the 
usage of the same century especially when needing an scA-word 
for the alliteration. 

The second passage about which there has been misunderstanding 
requires quoting more than a single line (864-70) : 

iSone as he on hent and happed J>erinne, 
pat sete on hym semly, wyth saylande skyrtez, 
pe ver, by his visage, verayly hit semed 
Wei ne3 to uche haj?el alle on hwes; 
Lowande and lufly alle his lymmez under, 
pat a comloker kny3t never Kryst made 

hem ]>O3t; 

Whe]>en in worlde he were, 

Hit semed as he my^t ' 

Be prynce withouten pere, 

In felde J>er felle men fyjt.' 

Here the crux is in the word ver (866), which Morris glossed 
' man, knight/ comparing ON. ver, although he should have recog- 
nized in that word a phonetic wer incapable of alliterating prop- 
erly with visage and verayly. The NED. sets up a word ver for 
this place only, with the enlightening information 'meaning ob- 
scure/ The translators have followed Morris in using one word or 
another suggested by his gloss. For example the Webster-Neilson 
translation (Chief British Poets, p. 29) combines lines 866-8 as 

*The rime with }>oht indicates that these words should be mojt, fojt. 
For the former see the frequent use of the form in all the Alliterative 
Poems, and for the latter fojten in Wars of Alex., Ant. of Arth., and other 
places. Fo]t is then past subjunctive 'should fight.' 


follows : " The hero by his visage verily seemed to well nigh every 
man in looks glowing and lovely in all his limbs." This entirely 
omits alle on hwes, of which on is the alliterative word, and con- 
nects 868 with the preceding rather than the following lines. 
Perhaps the punctuation above will be justified by my new ren- 

May I suggest an interpretation which again has the advantage 
of simplicity, preserves the alliteration, and follows more closely 
the poet's syntax. It should be remembered that Sir Gawain has 
been dispoyled . . . of his bruny and of his bry^t wedez by those 
who serve him in his chamber, and has been garbed anew from the 
ryche robes brought by retainers of the Green Knight, although of 
course Gawain does not know him as such. The literary conven- 
tion of the disguise, as usual in early romances, is supported by 
the conventional obtuseness of the hero none is so blind as he 
that will not see. Though that is not distinctly stated, the bor- 
rowed finery is probably of the host's favorite color. In any case, 
the poet says of the robing : 

Soon as he took one and decked himself therein, 

One that sat on him seemly with its sailing skirts, 

The spring i(ver), compared with his appearance (visage), verily seemed 

Well nigh to each hero all one in hue; 

Glowing (lowande) in looks and lovely in all his limbs, 

A comelier knight Christ never made, 

they thought; 
From whence in world he were, 

It seemed that he mought 
Be prince without a peer, 
In field where fierce men fought. 

One or two notes of further explanation. Ver is OF. ver 
'spring/ used once by Chaucer (Troil., I, 157), 

With newe grene, of lusty Ver the pryme; 

and occasionally otherwise in Middle English, as by Gower (Con/. 
Amant., vn, 1014), 

Whan Ver his seson hath begonne. 


Visage may be ' countenance ' only, but seems rather to refer to 
' appearance, look of the man (as a whole)'; see NED., meanings 
7, 8, and Gower, Conf. Amant., vn, 4046. Hwes may be con- 
strued as an adverbial genitive, or is perhaps an error for hwe 


' hue,' s (2) having been carelessly added by the'scribe as in several 
cases in the poems; for Gawain cf. sh^ez (893), wedez (987), 
crowez (1412), frekez (1588), hepez (1590). StiU a third possi- 
bility is that the plural is the poet's, a change from the singular 
resulting from the two-fold reference in the comparison. At least 
such a change from singular to plural, to give more general rela- 
tion, is not uncommon in the poems, as in PL 450-51, 686-8; CL' 
49-50, 167-8, 303-5, 379; Gaw. 54. Whatever view of hwes is 
taken can hardly militate, it is believed, against the explanation of 
the passage here proposed. 


Western Reserve University. 



It is usually assumed that Horace Walpole's Letter from Xo Ho, 
a Chinese Philosopher at London, To his Friend Lien Chi, at 
Peking (1757) 1 furnished Goldsmith with the plan for his Chinese 
Letters, which appeared semi-weekly in Newberry's Public Ledger, 
during 1760-61. This work, however, is so brief, extending over 
only five folio pages, and so restricted in subject matter, treating 
only political affairs, that it could have suggested little to Goldsmith 
except a title for his essays and the use to which he might put a 
Chinese character. But the foreign observer type of letter had been 
used in France and in England before Walpole's political satire, 
and in extended works to which Goldsmith's essays bear closer 
resemblances. Although Goldsmith was the first to make a practice 
of casting the familiar essay in the form of a letter written by a 
stranger in a foreign country to his friends at home, he had a 
public interested in oriental tales and not wholly unfamiliar with 
the discussion of social as well as political subjects in letters 
purporting to have been written by foreign observers. 

One of the earliest of these is an eight volume collection entitled 
Letters Writ by a Turkish Spy who lived five and forty years, 1 
undiscovered at Paris: Giving an Impartial Account to the Divan 
at Constantinople, of the most Remarkable Transactions of Europe; 

1 The Works of Horace Walpole, 5 vols., London, 1798, I, 205. 


and Discovering several Intrigues and Secrets of the Christ-ian 
Courts (especially of France) from the year 1637, to the year 1682. 
It was first published in English in 1689, going through twenty-six 
editions by 1770. In his preface "To the Header," the English 
editor claimed to be merely a translator of the Italian version of 
these letters, which had been, according to his account, written by 
a Turk, found in a lodging house in Paris, and translated from 
Arabic into Latin by their discoverer. The writer of at least the 
first volume of this collection, J. P. Marana, was a Genoese who 
died in Paris, in 1693. Under the mask of the foreigner Mahmut 
the Arabian, the author was able to write the history of the age in 
which he lived, in a secrecy and security like that which is claimed 
for the Turk in the following passage from the preface to the 1770 
edition: "Have, moreover, some respect for the memory of this 
Mahometan ; for, living unknown, he was safe from the insults of 
the great ones, so that he might write truth without danger, which 
is ordinarily disguised by fear or avarice, having still reported the 
transactions of Christians with no less truth than eloquence." The 
chief value of the work is its record of current history, for which 
the letter scheme serves as a sugar coat. A certain amount of 
oriental machinery used is similar to that in Goldsmith's Citizen 
of the World; but many differences in the use made of the scheme 
immediately stand out. The Turkish Letters are often records of 
a confused mass of facts, while nearly every one of The Chinese 
Letters develops in essay style only one idea. The former set forth 
instructive, historical facts, while the latter treat some minor vice 
or foible with a gentle ridicule which is both pleasing and effective. 
In the first we learn of wars, political transactions, and the 
intrigues of the courts, by means of a representation involving 
actual personages and facts. In the second collection we are given 
a picture of private life especially that of the middle and lower 
classes in a representation, for the most part, of fictitious per- 
sonages and happenings. Goldsmith may have taken hints in 
regard to a plan from The Turkish Spy, but he used the foreign- 
letter-disguise for such a totally different purpose that a further 
comparison would be fruitless. 

In Montesquieu's Lettres Persanes* which appeared in 1721 and 

'Montesquieu, The Persian Letters; with an Introduction and Notes: 
Trans, from the French. London, Athenaeum Pub. Co., 1901. 


were soon very popular, we have a more striking resemblance to 
Goldsmith's Chinese Letters than that offered by The Turkish Spy. 
The author of The Persian Letters pretends to be the translator 
of genuine letters written or received by some Persians who had 
been his guests. In these letters we learn that Rica, Usbek, and 
Ehedi had set out from their homes in Persia in order to study the 
manners and the institutions of the Europeans. Ehedi stopped at 
Venice, while Rica and Usbek pusfied on to Paris. Very soon after 
their departure from Persia, a brisk interchange of letters took 
place between Usbek and his wives Zachi, Zephis, Fatme, Roxana, 
and the enuchs, as well as between the travellers and the friends 
they had left at Ispahan. Using this letter device as a mask, 
Montesquieu satirized unmercifully the social, political, ecclesi- 
astical, anl literary follies of France. It is probable that Montes- 
quieu's work influenced Goldsmith in his treatment of similar 
topics, forty years later ; but a comparison of the two letter collec- 
tions shows that Goldsmith was no servile imitator. In the first 
place, fifty-six out of the one hundred and sixty-one Persian letters 
are devoted to the development of the scheme, which involves a 
romantic story written in a rather flowery style. 3 The Citizen of 
the World preserves its unity with much less effort, since it repre- 
sents all letters as being sent or received by just one character, 
Letn Chi Altangi. Goldsmith is not bound down by his assumed 
character ; neither does he use as much oriental clap-trap in his 
exposition of vices and foibles as does Montesquieu. Having no 
moral purpose in view, the latter makes great play with Persian 
customs and with the happenings in the seraglio, often attaining 
to a license in language which never sullied Goldsmith's writing. 
Desiring to make virtue pleasant and vice repulsive, Goldsmith 
succeeded in giving us a fairly complete picture of the life of the 
middle and lower classes of people in the England of his day, while 
Montesquieu furnishes us with purple patches of French satire 
mixed with Persian romance. The latter employs the mask of a 
foreigner for a protection in casting forth witty and bitter satire 
against the people, 4 the government, 5 and the Church 6 ; the former 

Letters 1-23 and Nos. 25, 27, 39, 41, 42, 43, 47, 53, 62, 64, 65, 67, 70, 71, 
77, 80, 97, 127, 147, 161. 

* Letters 100, 56, 48, 111, 114, 123, 135. 
Letter 89 is an example. 

Letters 35, 29, 69, 75. 


uses the device as an attractive vehicle for a sympathetic criticism 
of customs and manners. 

Lord Lyttelton's Letters from a Persian in England to his Friend 
at Ispahan? first published in 1735, seems to be modelled after 
Montesquieu's work; but it bears a closer resemblance to The 
Citizen of the World than does its predecessor, The Persian Letters. 
Twenty-five years later Goldsmith treated the same type of subjects 
as Lyttelton had discussed and in much the same manner. In 
the first of these Letters from a Persian, Selim writes to Mirza 
from London: "Whatever in the Manners of this people appears 
to me to be singular and fantastical, I will also give thee some 
account of; and if I may judge by what I have seen already, this 
is a subject which will not easily be exhausted." In the next letter 
he describes his experiences at the opera. Following this, is a letter 
" On Bear and Bull fights and Fighting Men at the Circus," in 
which the author describes one of the spectators. In the next, 
which describes a debtor's prison and tells the story of some of 
the prisoners, Selim exclaims : " Good Heavens ! can it be possible 
that, in a country governed by laws, the Innocent, who are cheated 
out of all, should be put in prison, and the villians who cheat them 
left at Liberty ! " A fine satire, in letter five, on the prevalence of 
intoxication and on the fashionable custom of gambling reminds 
one of the later, periodical essayists. The next letter tells of " The 
Loves of Ludovico and Horraria," " in illustration of the nature 
of love," while letter eight discusses " Government, Poverty, and 
Commerce." The delightful essay on toleration, in letter thirty, is 
illustrated by practices in England and by certain adventures which 
Selim had passed through. In letters eleven to twenty-two Lyttelton 
gives the story of Troglodites, to show that "Mankind becomes 
wickeder and more miserable in a state of government, than they 
were when left in a State of Nature." Using the guise of Trog- 
lodites, he satirizes the growth of corruption in the English Church 
and government. Lyttelton is far less advanced in thought, how- 
ever, than is Goldsmith, altho his ideas on education are quite 
modern. 8 He has a tendency, also, to draw out his discussions too 

'Lyttelton, Lord Letters from a Persian in England to his Friend at 
Ispahan, London, 1744 edition. 
8 Letters 46 and 47. 


much 9 a fault avoided by Goldsmith. Although nearly all of the 
eighty letters, as the above illustrations indicate, treat subjects 
similar to those later employed by The Citizen of the World, there 
are noteworthy differences between the two collections. Taken as 
a whole, these letters are not so applicable in teaching, so catholic 
in view, so unified in structure, so good in portraiture, or so 
sympathetic and realistic in treatment as are The Chinese Letters. 
A comparison of the two collections brings out, then, in addition to 
several likenesses, the fact that Goldsmith, with his superior literary 
ability, made a much better use of the foreign-observer-type of 
writing than did his predecessor. 

Various works in addition to those already discussed appeared in 
the first half of the eighteenth century and represented themselves 
as translations of letters written by foreigners in strange countries. 
Even if they did not exert any influence upon Goldsmith's choice 
of a plan for his essays, they are worthy of note as indications of 
the public taste for accounts of English and French customs and 
institutions as viewed by foreigners. The Spectator for April 27, 
1711, contained an account supposed to have been written by an 
Indian king who had visited London and left a package of papers 
upon his departure. None of the other papers were published, 
however. Thirteen years later, Defoe published his Tour Through 
England (written as if oy a foreigner) ; and in 1726 AYilliam 
Lloyd's Letters from a Moor at London to hit Friend at Tunis 
appeared. The latter is more like a text book than a collection of 
light essays in manners and customs. In the twenty-four letters 
in this volume, the city of London, the public buildings, and the 
government of England are described at great length with an utter 
absence of satire or humor. In fact, the Moor is a mere name 
used to attract attention to this guide-book. At about the same 
time as the appearance of Lloyd's book, Marquis D'Argens published 
The Jewish Spy an imitation of The Turkish Spy, but devoted 
for the most part to satire directed against Catholics. Different 
orders of monks especially the Jesuit brotherhood are ruthlessly 
attacked. Before 1752, translations from French into English were 
made of Graffigny's Letters Written by a Peruvian Princess, Sequel 
of the Letters Written by a Peruvian Princess, and Letters of Aza 

e. g., History of England, letters 58-68, and " The Story of Acasto and 
Septimius," letter 31. 


a Peruvian. In these collections the elaborate story of the separa- 
tion of Aza and Bilia is narrated, with scarcely any comment on 
the customs of France and of Spain, the countries in which the 
principal events occur. 11 Graffigny's language is that of highly 
eloquent and impassioned love and despair quite different from 
Goldsmith's usual style. These translations indicate, however, the 
popularity of the foreign letter collections at the time when Gold- 
smith began his work. 

Goldsmith, no doubt, gained some valuable suggestions from 
those who had brought out collections of letters supposed to have 
been written by foreign observers, but he contributed much to this 
type of literature. His predecessors had done very little in char- 
acter delineation, while Goldsmith's pictures of Beau Tibbs and of 
the Man in Black are interesting and vivid. Unlike his predecessors 
he had the further desire to instruct and improve his readers. 
Sometimes this purpose led him to attach a strangely English moral 
to an oriental story, but it gives added value to his letters. At 
other times, also, he loses the Chinese attitude and style of writing, 
thus falling below the consistent tone of Montesquieu's work. 
Goldsmith's habit of making Lein Chi appear, in many essays, to 
all intent and purposes, an Englishman avoids the harmful effects 
which may result from using a disguise too faithfully. The 
machinery in Lettres Persanes appears at times to hamper the 
author ; and when it is stressed too much, it tires the reader. Gold- 
smith's versatile Chinese philosopher, however, is enabled to give 
us variety as a result of his wide range of interests. Goldsmith 
endowed him with extensive travels, a philosophical turn of mind, 
and friends that would lead him into all fields o? activity. Conse- 
quently, The Citizen of the World contains a greater variety of 
subject matter than do the other collections considered in this 
paper. Using his scheme with freedom, Goldsmith reveals his own 
personality through it. Under his skilful touch the foreign letter 
type of writing took on a new and enlarged life. 


Michigan Agricultural College. 

M Graffigny, Franc/rise d'Isseniburg (THappencourt Letters Written by a 
Peruvian Princess. Trans, from the French, Dublin, 1748; Sequel to Letters 
Written ~by a Peruvian Princess, 1749; Letters of Aza a Peruvian, 1751. 

M lSome satire is included in letters 14, 16, and 18 of the third collection 
and in letters 16, 21, 22, 30, and 31 of the first. 


In speaking of Lamartine's descriptions of landscape in Jocelyn, 
M. Lanson says : " Ici Lamartine a voulu peindre : il a prodigue les 
couleurs et ses descriptions pourtant ne sortent pas. Elles ne s'or- 
ganisent pas en tableaux. Je ne vois pas ces Alpes, neigeuses ou 
fleuries; dans 1'ample ecoulement de la poesie mon impression 
reste indecise, et si j'essaie de fixer en visions ces formes, ces teints, 
cette lumiere, ces mouvements, ces bruits, je ne sens qu'une con- 
fusion fatigante; les objets me fuient." (Hist, de la litt. fr., p. 
952, ed. 1912.) 

In this passage the remark : " il a prodigue les couleurs " did not 
coincide with my casual impressions in reading Jocelyn, and a 
closer investigation of the subject seemed of interest. In making 
this study, all cases of the use of color have been noted for the 
sake of completeness, but they have been grouped with reference 
to their use in landscape description, when there were sufficient 
to warrant it. 1 

Blanc occurs 49 times, 27 of them in landscapes and 22 in de- 
scribing persons, animals, objects: snow 2 (13 times) as un blanc 
tapis de neige, p. 328, sun or moon light 8 (7) as un rayon de blanc 
soleil, p. 276; various* (7) as la barque a I'aile blanche, p. 281, 
les routes blanches, p. 216; persons, animals, etc. 5 (22) as son chien 
blanc, p. 28; seven examples of this last class refer to cheveux 
blancs or blanchis. 8 

Blanchatre: (1) un sarrau blanchatre, p. 170. 

Argent: (2) le duvet d'argent (du cygne), p. 78; les cimes Sar- 
gent du pale peuplier, p. 253. 

Albatre: (1) deux mains d'albatre, p. 310. 

Ivoire: (1) ses doigts d'ivoire, p. 89. 

Blond: (12) ses blonds cheveux 7 (9) ; les blonds chapeaux de 

1 The references are to the Hachette edition of 1853. 

'Pp. 55, 78, 83, 93, 113, 114, 115, 126, 145, 148, 149, 216. 

Pp. 43, 47, 140, 253, 332, 332. 

4 Pp. 50, 83, 301, 306, 307. 

8 Pp. 25, 29, 50, 71, 88, 106, 117, 172, 175, 195, 263, 326, 327, 334. 

Pp. 32, 69, 94, 175, 182, 214, 343. 

7 Pp. 35, 71, 88, 94, 112, 138, 195, 267, 310. 



paille, p. 32, ma "blonde genisse, p. 227, sow blond duvet (du ros- 
signol), p. 131. 

Noir: 26 times, 12 of them in landscapes and 14 in describing 
persons, animals, etc. : trees 8 ( 6 ) as les troncs noirs des noyers, 
p. 219; various 9 (6) as les sommets noirs, p. 147, les noires vallees, 
p. 70; persons, etc. 10 (14) as cet ceil noir, p. 112, une soutane noire, 
p. 45, la chevre noire, p. 104. 

Gris: (6) une roche grise, p. 50, p. 219, une pierre grise, p. 26, 
la bruyere grise, p. 55, le del etait gris, p. 46, je vis noircir mes 
murs gris, p. 270. 

Jaune: (7) to describe foliage " as le sol jauni, p. 326, de mes 
chenes penches la tete qui jaunit, p. 103. 

Jaundtre: (1) une mousse jaundtre, p. 127. 

Dore: (9), to describe light 12 (6) as le rayon dore, p. 77, vari- 
ous 13 (3) as vols d'insects dores, p. 78. 

Orange: (1) ses trongons d'orange et de bleu (de l f arc-en-ciel), 
p. 129. 

Bronze: (1) sa plume bronzee, p. 83. 

Brun: (3) le flot, bruni par I' ombre haute et noire, p. 127, le 
reste de ses jours est bruni par une ombre, p. 314; ombres, qui 
brunissent leurs flancs, p. 78. 

Vert: (25) to describe foliage 14 (22) as ce feston vert, p. 103, 
ces murs verdis de lierre, p. 217; water 15 (3) as un lac aux flots 
verts, p. 124. 

Bleu or azur: (26) to describe the sky 16 (12) as: I'azur, p. 112, 
ce dome bleu, p. 85 ; water 17 (5) as mon lac bleu, p. 103 ; various 18 
(6) as ses pentes d'azur (du glacier), p. 103, la grande plaine 
bleue, p. 216; persons 18 (3) as son ceil humide et bleu, p. 88. 

Saphir: (1) des arches de saphir, p. 115. 

Violet: (1) ses pieds nus tous violets de froid, p. 175. 

8 Pp. 79, 90, 281, 323, 326. Pp. 30, 53, 218, 326. 

10 Pp. 26, 27, 45, 83, 89, 114, 139, 222, 231, 241, 334. 

11 Pp. 79, 216, 223, 227, 325. 
u Pp. 28, 33, 83, 132, 293. 
"Pp. 128, 267. 

14 Pp. 48, 50, 70, 77, 79, 82, 84, 98, 127, 135, 216, 217, 221, 223, 236, 275, 
289, 301, 322, 344. 

15 Pp. 115, 306. 

Pp. 47, 75, 77, 78, 83, 85, 122, 198, 217, 281. 

17 Pp. 82, 127, 301, 306. Pp. 132, 138, 218, 286. 


Rouge: (2) un etroit corset rouge, p. 88, un oiseau rouge et bleu, 
p. 138. 

Rougeatre: (1) ma torche jetait son jour rougeatre, p. 95. 

Pourpre: (1) les corsets de pourpre, p. 32. 

Vermeil: (2) ce sommet vermeil, p. 308, leur corset de feu, 
d'azur et de vermeil, p. 123. 

Rose: (2) la neige qui fondait au tact du rayon rose, p. 122, sa 
joue en rose de candeur, p. 111. 

This is not an imposing list when one considers that Jocelyn is 
8027 lines in length, of which at least two-thirds are devoted to 
description mingled with narration or description alone. Many of 
these colors are used as fixed epithets quite without pictorial value : 
ses blonds cheveux, I'azur, le rayon dore, le lac bleu. When one 
considers the various shades of rose, blue and violet of the snow- 
covered Alps, one is surprised at finding only once la neige qui 
fondait au tact du rayon rose. The colors of ice are referred to 
twice: ces pentes d'azur and des arches de saphir. The one case 
where violet is used refers to the effect of cold rather than to color. 
In a number of cases effect of color is secondary as des os blanchis; 
the priesthood is meant in un habit noir; the quality of the bread 
in un pain noir; the season in le pampre encore vert. M. Lanson 
speaks of les Alpes fleuries; Lamartine mentions once each la giro- 
flee, I'aubepine, la mauve, mes perce-neige, les bluets, les pavots, 
I'iris, le reseda, but never their colors; ce Us blanc is used figura- 
tively and refers to Jocelyn's love for Laurence. Of shades there 
are only three mentioned: rougeatre (1), jaunatre (1), blanchatre 
(1). He rarely leaves the cardinal colors and these are used 
" pure " : there are no shadings by a second color nor are there even 
qualifying adjectives of so simple a sort as dark, light, or pale. 
Once he says: quel bleu tendre. His color sense seems to run 
along stereotyped lines with few variations from the accepted white 
snow, blue sky, green grass. In fact the lack of originality and 
power of observation in regard to color is striking. La bruyere 
grise would seem a delicate observation of heather in certain lights 
did not one suspect that the rhyme were just as important as the 
pictorial effect : 

Que j'6coutais siffler dans la bruyere grise 
Comme Tftme des morts, le souffle de la bise. 

It must also be mentioned, as this does not appear in the cata- 


log, that the colors occur for the most part singly and at long 
intervals; contrasts and combination of color are infrequent. The 
contrast of black and white occurs six times ; 

Un drap blanc reconvert de sa soutane noire, P. 28 

Un lambeau de lin blanc, une croix de drap nodr, P. 334. 

Un pain noir sous une nappe 'blanche, p. 222. (The contrast 
here is evidently intentional, although noir really refers to the 
quality of the bread.) 

H veillait sur une page blanche 

Et quand elle etait noire, P. 29. 

Jouant dans sea cheveux avec ses doigts d'ivoire 

Roulait et deroulait leur boucle epaisse et noire. P. 89. 

L'omlbre des noirs sapins me voile le croissant. 

Sa mobile blancheur semble sous ce nuage 

iUne neige qui torn/be et fond sur le feuillage, P. 75. 

There are four short descriptions which M. Lanson evidently had 
in mind when he said: "Ici Lamartine a voulu peindre." (All 
colors mentioned here are contained in the catalog.) 

La grande plaine bleue avec ses routes blanches, 

Les moissons jaune d'or, les bois comme un point noir, 

Et les lacs renvoyaat le ciel comme un miroir, P. 216 

Et que, du haut d'un pic, de plus loin j'apergois 

Mon lac bleu resserre" comme un peu d'eau qui tremble 

Dans le creux de la main oil 1'enfant la rassemble 

Le feston vert bordant sa coupe de granit, 

De mes chgnes penche"s la tete qui jaunit. ... P. 103. 

Et qu'assis eur un roc vous avez sous vos pas 

Ce lac bleu, comme un ciel qui se de"ploie en bas, 

Vous voyez quelquefois 1'essaim des blanches voiles. . . . 

Sortir des golfes verts ou rentrer dans les ports, 

Ou se groupant en cercle, avec la proue ecrire 

Des Evolutions que le regard admire; P. 306. 

Je vis se derouler sous moi le paysage, 

Le jardin verdoyer sous les murs du village, 

La colombe blanchir les toits, et la maison 

Hetirer lentement son ombre du gazon. 

Je vis blanchir dans 1'air sa premiere fumee, P. 50. 

These are pictures which could be transferred to canvas or visu- 
alized as M. Lanson tried to do, but they are not numerous in 


Jocelyn nor can color be said to have been used lavishly in them. 
In fact Lamartine may be said to have put into practice, whether 
consciously or not, Lessing's theory that in poetry pictures which 
could be painted were out of place and that description should 
never be attempted except in terms of movement. This latter 
Lamartine did to the fullest extent. I quote only one example : 

Ohaque goutte en pleuvant remontait en poussiere 

Sur rherbe, et s'y roulait en globes de lumiere. 

Tous ces prismes, frappe"a du feu du firmament, 

B/emplissaient 1'ceil d'6clairs et d'Sblouissement, 

On eut dit mille essaims d'abeilles murmurantes 

Diss6minant le jour sur leurs ailes errantes, 

Sur leur corset de feu, d'azur et de vermeil, 

Et bourdonnant autour d'un rayon de soleil. P. 123. 

This is one of Lamartine's typical descriptions : filled with light, 
with movement, and with sound. It is one of the rare cases in 
which color is used in a way other than commonplace. There are 
many other long descriptions in Jocelyn in which color is lacking, 
as of sun shining on the water, p. 57 ; sounds heard during a storm, 
p. 113; a waterfall, p. 219; dust in the sunlight, p. 132; breezes 
and perfumes, p. 124 ; an avalanche, p. 147 ; rain in the mountains, 
p. 321. The detail and originality of these, which describe in 
terms of movement, is noticeable, especially when compared with 
the paucity and banality of the first group, which describe more 
largely in terms of form and color. 




A study of the masterpiece of Theodore de Banville's " theatre," 
the one-act prose play, Gringoire, reveals the fact that the play- 
wright drew directly from several sources, wfiich may conveniently 
be classed in two groups: (1) those that concern the principal 
character of the play, Gringoire himself; and (2) those that shed 
light upon Banville's treatment of Louis XI and the other secondary 
personages. On the subject of the former, Banville is silent; but, 
as regards the latter, he tells us, in the preface to the printed 


edition of the play, that he is indebted to Michelet's Louis XI et 
Charles le Temeraire (which, as is known, is made lip of the 
chapters from his Histoire de France that deal with the struggle 
between those two princes) and to one of Balzac's C antes drola- 
tiques, the " loyeulsetez du roy Loys le Unziesme." To what 
extent Banville made use of these sources will be ascertained later. 
We need not enter upon a discussion here of the anachronism of 
which Banville consciously made himself guilty in his treatment of 
the historical Pierre Gringore. 1 Suffice it to say that this 
anachronism had been perpetrated earlier in the century, and by 
none other than Victor Hugo himself. To be sure, the Pierre 
Gringoire of Notre-Dame de Paris takes part in scenes totally 
different from those in which his namesake of Banville's play 
appears. Nevertheless, the resemblance between these two is 
evident enough to make it almost unnecessary to adduce the fact 
that Banville's comedy is dedicated to Victor Hugo as testimony 
that the playwright drew direct inspiration from the novelist. Of 
internal evidence there is at least this much : Victor Hugo's accept- 
ance of the slightly distorted form of the name of Pierre Gringore 2 
is ratified by Banville; and of the real Gringore, born between 
1470 and 1480 (the exact date is even yet unknown), Hugo makes 
the author of a "moralite" presented on January 6, 1482, while 
Banville is still more unconcerned as to the handling of historical 
facts and gives us a Gringoire who is twenty years old in 1469. In 
both novel and play the appearance and character of Gringoire are 
essentially the same : they are those of a poet who has had to forego 
even the necessities of life in order to pursue his calling, but is too 
devoted to this very calling to abandon it for one more lucrative. 
It is to this legendary Gringoire, shabby but proud, that Daudet 
addresses one of the most fascinating of the tales contained in his 
Lettres de mon moulin, the " Chevre de M. Seguin," written, in all 
probability, very shortly before the presentation of Banville's play 

1 For a full treatment of the life of Pierre Gringore and a discussion 
of the anachronism, cf. Charles Oulmont: Pierre Gringore, Paris, 1911. 

* Acrostics appended to almost all of his poems make it clear that the 
name of thp poet was Gringore. However, it is not at all impossible that 
he may have been called Gringoire even in his own day; both names are 
mere nasalized forms of the Latin "Gregorius" (modern French "GrS- 


in 1866. 3 It would seem that Banville has taken the Gringoire of 
Hugo, made him five or ten years younger, and shown him to us 
as he was before he went up to Paris ; in Notre-Dame de Paris, he 
is already the celebrated author who was soon to become Mere 
Sotte of the " Confrerie des Sots." 

Without entering upon a lengthy disquisition, we may take it 
for granted that the hero of Banville's comedy is a composite 
character, made up of touches from Frangois Villon, Pierre Grin- 
gore, and Banville himself. The elements of Villon in Gringoire 
are so clear that "he who runs may read." Gringoire's fearless- 
ness and independence, his utter contempt of death, these are traits 
borrowed directly from the character of the older poet. But, more 
than this, Banville's hero recites two ballads, ostensibly of his own 
composition, during the course of the play. Examination shows 
that these ballads are the work of Banville himself and that they 
are distincty patterned after two of the Villon ballads. The first 
poem recited by Gringoire is the " Ballade des Pendus," which is 
undoubtedly modeled upon the celebrated " Epitaphe en forme de 
ballade que f eit Villon pour luy et ses compagnons, s'attendant estre 
pendu avec eux." * To bring out a few of the parallels between the 
two ballads, I shall quote several verses from that of Banville; the 
similarity to the second stanza of Villon's poem is at once apparent. 

" Le soleil levant les deVore." 
" Un essaim d'oiseaux rSjouis 
Par-dessus leur tte picore." 

" Tous ces pauvres gens morfondus. . . 
Dans des tourbillons qu'on ignore 
Voltigent, palpitants encore." 
" Regardez-les, cieux Sblouis, 
Danser dans les feux de 1'aurore." 

In the case of the second of the two ballads declaimed by Grin- 
goire, the " Ballade des pauvres gens," the influence of Villon is 
general rather than specific; for similarity in tone and attitude, 
Villon's " Ballade des povres housseurs " may be cited. Finally it 
might be noted here, in connection with the ballad to which Ban- 
ville makes Gringoire refer, with the refrain : " 'Car Dieu benit 

1 Daudet seems to be using the name of Pierre Gringoire as a cloak for 
that of a minor poet of the first half -century, Pierre Cresset (1815-60). 
4 Villon: (Euvres, ed. Lacroix, Paris, pp. 128-29. 


tous les misericords," that no source in Villon suggests itself, and 
that, quite incidentally, number twenty of Banville's Trente-six 
ballades joyeuses (Paris, 1875), the "Double ballade pour les 
bonnes gens," written long after Gringoire, has the refrain : " Dieu 
fasse aux bons misericorde." 

That Banville employs Gringoire, at least in one instance, as 
the spokesman of his own ideas with regard to versification, is a 
natural inference from the following parallel. In scene 8 of the 
play, Gringoire describes verse-making as a " delassement d'oisif . 
Cela consiste a arranger entre eux des mots qui occupent les oreilles 
comme une musique obstinee ou, tant bien que mal, peignent au 
vif toutes choses, et parmi lesquels s'accouplent de temps en temps 
des sons jumeaux, dont Faccord semble tintinnabuler comme 
clochettes d'or." This would seem to be a highly colored version of 
what Banville was later to express in these words : 5 " Dans la 
Poesie Franchise, la Eime est le moyen supreme d' expression et 
I'imagination de la Eime est le maitre outil. Souviens-toi que, 
quand ta rime devient moins parf aite, c'est que ta pensee est moins 
haute et moins juste. Ne te dis pas hypocritement : ' J'ai sacrifie 
la Kime a la Pensee/ Dis-toi : ' Mon genie est voile, obscurci, 
puisque je vois s'obscurcir ce qui en est le signe visible/ " 

As regards the secondary characters of the play, we have Ban- 
ville's own testimony to the effect that he had made use of Michelet 
and of Balzac. There is no indication whatsoever that he was 
familiar with Sir Walter Scott's Quentin Durward. Casimir Dela- 
vigne's tragedy, Louis XI, deals with an entirely different phase 
of the king's career. To Michelet Banville is indebted for the his- 
torical background of his play, though he takes the slight liberty of 
making Louis XI feel perfectly secure in 1469, whereas it was not 
until the death of Charles the Bold in 1477 that he could begin to 
breathe easily. That Banville read his Michelet carefully is evi- 
denced by the fact that, in one instance at least, he quotes almost 
verbatim from Louis XI et Charles le Temeraire. The passage in 
question occurs in scene 5 of the play, and reads : " Pour logis 
de plaisance, il avait une tourelle sombre ou avait coule le sang 
d'un roi de France, assassine par un Vermandois" The reference 
is to Charles le Simple (or le Sot) of France, who ascended the 
throne in 898, reigned for thirty years, and was then taken prisoner 

8 Petit trait^ de potsie francaise, Paris, 1899, p. 326. 


by Herbert (or Heribert) the First, Count of Vermandois, at whose 
castle at Peronne he met his death a year later, probably as the 
result of foul play. The parallel passage in Michelet 6 reads as 
follows : " Les portes du chateau se f ermerent sur le roi, et il cut 
des lors tout le loisir de songer, se voyant enferme rasibus d'une 
grosse tour, oil jadis un comte de Vermandois avait fait mourir un 
roi de France." 

From Balzac's " loyeulsetez " Banville drew the local touches of 
his play (the rue de la Cygne in the town of Tours it is the rue 
des Cygnes in Balzac and the Mail du Chardonneret in the forest 
of Plessis-les-Tours) and, in a revised and abridged form, the 
story which he makes Nicole Andry tell the king at the very outset 
of the play. In the Balzac version it is Louis XI who, at the insti- 
gation of his mistress, Nicole Beaupertuys, plays the trick of having 
a rogue, who had been sentenced to death, cut down from the gal- 
lows and placed, all but dead, in the bed of an old maid, who first 
resuscitates and then marries him. This anecdote is related at the 
conclusion of the description of a merry carouse at the home of 
Nicole Beaupertuys, at which, besides the king, there are to be 
numbered among the guests Olivier-le-Daim and Cardinal La 
Balue, both of whom figure more or less prominently in Gringoire. 
Finally, it was in Balzac too that Banville could find the name of 
Simon Fourniez; for, in the very first sentence of the story: 
" Comment f ut basty le chasteau d'Azay," 7 we read : " lehan, fils 
de Simon Fourniez, diet Simonnin, bourgeoys de Tours, etc., etc." 
Loyse is, thus, the only character for whom Banville apparently did 
not go elsewhere for some hint or otner, and Loyse is only the 
Banvillesque version of the comparatively stereotyped heroine of 
the Eomantic novel or drama.* 


The University of Texas. 

* Louis XI et Charles le Temeravre, ed. E. Renault (Clarendon Press, 
Oxford, 1907), p. 42. 

7 Conies drolatiques (Edition definitive, Paris, 1870), p. 205. 

8 The author desires to express his grateful appreciation of the help and 
suggestions which he received from Prof. D. S. Blondheim of The Johns 
Hopkins University, and from Prof. E. J. Villavaso of the University of 
Texas in the preparation of this paper. 


Saints' Legends. By GOKDON HALL GEROULD. Boston, Houghton 
Mifflin Company, 1916. Pp. ix, 393. 12mo. 

Professor Gerould and his readers are equally fortunate in the^ 
subject he has chosen for his book, Saints' Legends. He, because 
he is the first to devote a volume to a type of literature of a single 
country, to which literary historians and critics have given such 
little attention, that he does not need to approach it from a new 
angle to write something original : they, because the author shows 
himself the master of the wide body of texts of, and studies on, a 
subject in which he has shown his worth in monographs on various 
themes, which have a direct and indirect bearing on it. 

The two first chapters, " Definition and Use " and " Origin and 
Propagation," are models of compression in composition in the 
presentation of the well considered results of the widely scattered 
readings of the author. On only two points can the critic take 
exception. In treating this genre, as a whole, Professor Gerould 
has not differentiated, nor laid enough stress upon its early develop- 
ments and, by not doing so, his sympathy has led him to cover with 
too wide a mantle of charity the faults of the type as a whole, when 
he makes such statements as " They are, in the nature of the case, 
ecclesiastical, but not narrowly so ; they are moral of tendency, but 
not didactic; they inculcate piety, but do not of necessity teach 
doctrine . . . the legends show a common aspiration towards an 
unworldly goal . . . the lives of the saints represent the search not 
only for goodness but for truth" (4-5). From a wide survey of 
the subject very different conclusions may be drawn than those 
stated, or implied, in these phrases. In the Orient and in the 
Occident, in Buddhism, Christianity * and Mohammedanism, 
saints' lives were written for purposes of propaganda; first to 
emphasize some doctrinal point, later for the glorification of some 
particular saint or shrine. They go on all fours with the belief in 
miracles, which is their principal stock in trade, and the part they 

*Eusebius in his Hist, eccl., v, Proem, ed. E. S. Schwartz, n (1903) 
400, 9-12, stated that he had included all the Acta martyrum in his work, 
because o\>x IffTOpuctiv OUTO povov, dXXa *al 5tSaffKa\iKi]v irepiexov 



still play in the educational propaganda of the one branch of the 
Christian church,, which holds fast by its belief in contemporary 
miracles, is due to no accidental combination. In the early Chris- 
tian church the first Ada, like the apocryphal gospels considered a 
supplement to the apostolic writings, were written to show that the 
church of the day was still the primitive church, as was evidenced, 
through the use of what was regarded as authentic documents, by 
the sufferings and miraculous powers of those who died for the 
faith. Very few, and in the light of continued investigations, in an 
ever diminishing number, are those which do not show accretions 
of a later time, marvellous deeds, which were considered as nothing 
but what was due, in the eyes of .the interpolators, to those of an 
earlier and vanished heroic age. At an early date an interested 
motive brought out a further development, the emphasis given to 
the miracles of saints of, or at, certain shrines, an indication, itself, 
of the development of the most crass of superstitions- itself a relic 
of paganism the practice of pilgrimages. In the competition 
between rival ecclesiastical organizations this new motive fostered 
the perversely fraudulent spirit so evident in later saints' lives. To 
further the objects of their propaganda those interested did not 
satisfy themselves with the productions of the lives of their heroes 
in the universal language of the church, and with their translation 
into the vernacular. At an early date popular tales and traditions 
were drafted for service, on the principle, enunciated and practiced 
long before Whitefield, that the devil should not be allowed to keep 
all the good tunes. The next step for those interested was to 
manipulate for their own use popular forms of literature, which 
had been formerly damned without stint, an instance of which has 
been shown convincingly by Professor Bedier in his L&gendes 
epiques, who brings out the use made of the Old-French epic to 
" boom " certain shrines. A similar, if not such a profitable study 
could be made of this form of propaganda, in other types of litera- 
ture, and in other literatures. 

With these reservations, it may be said that Professor Gerould's 
definition of the purpose and intent of the type is as admirable as 1 
it is liberal, as is his outline of the development of its use in church 
service, and the question of the diptychs is an intricate and diffi- 
cult one, on which the final word has not been written 2 for secular 

E. Bishop, in The Liturgical Homilies of Narsai, ed. R. H. Connolly, 


entertainment, and even for political purposes, in which visions 
played a part, not without an element of fraud. It may be well to 
cite here passages from two writers of the eleventh century, which 
show the prominent position this type of literature held in the 
purely clerical educational system of that period. The first is to 
be found in the tractate of Petrus Damiani, De or dine eremitarum, 
et facultatibus eremi Avellani, written 1045-1050, 3 in which the 
austere and obscurantist reformer gives an exposition of the regime 
of the monastery of Fonte Avellana, of which he was abbot. In 
the restricted course of reading which he not only recommended, 
but doubtless enforced, saints' legends took a high place : 

Librorum quoque numerum non minimum dereliquimus, ut fratribus 
nostris, qui pro nobis orare dignentur, meditandi copiam praeberemus. 
Bibliothecam namque omnium Veteris et Novi Testamenti voluminum, licet 
cursim, ac per hoc non exacte vobis emendare curavimus. Ex passionibus 
quoque beatorum martyrum; ex homiliia sanctorum patrum; ex commen- 
tariis, allegoricas sacrae Scripturae sententias exponentium Gregorii scili- 
cet, Amforosii, Augustini, Hieronymi, Prosperi, Bedae, Remigii, etiam et 
Amalarii, insuper et Haimonis atque Pasohasii, divina gratia nostris allu- 
bescente laboribus, plures libros habetis, quibus vacare potestis; ut sanctae 
animae vestrae non solum oratione crescant sed et lectione pinguescant. Ex 
quibus nimirum codicibus nonnullos pro nostra possilbilitate correximus, ut 
in sacrae disciplinae studiis intelligentiae vobis aditum panderemus. 4 

The second passage is found in a work written by a cleric with 
humanistic tendencies, who in a critical survey of both pagan and 
Christian literature, shows a sense of critical values in the positions 
he assigns to different types of hagiographical works. This work 
is the De arte lectoria sive de quantitate syllabarum, written in 
1086, by a certain Aimeric, whose patron was Adhemar, bishop of 
Angouleme, 1076-1101. He begins his general estimate e by 
stating the categories into which all literature must be distributed : 

Cam/bridge Texts and Studies, vn, i (1908), 97-114; F. E. Brightman, 
Journ. of Theol. St., XII (1911), 319-23; Connolly, /&., xm, 580-594; Bishop, 
7b., xiv, 23-61. 

1 F. Neukirch, Das Leben des Petrus Damiani, nebst einem Anhang : 
Damianis Schriften chronologisch geordnet. Teil I, 1875, 94. 

4 Migne, Patr. Lat., OXLV, 334. 

* C. Thurot, " Documents relatif s a 1'histoire de la grammaire au moyen- 
age," Comptes Rendus de VAcad. des Inscr. et Belles Lettres, Ser. 2, vol. VI 
(1870) 244-5. For other manuscripts cf. A. D'Ancona, "La Leggenda di 
Maometto in Occidente," Giorn. stor. d. Lett, it., xm ( 18i89 ) , 245-6 ; also 
in his Studj di Critica e Storia letteraria, 2d ed., 1912, n, 207-8, 277. 

Thurot, op. cit., 249. 


Et super omnia hoc notandum, quoniam, sicut genera metallorum quatuor 
ilia, aurum, argentum, stagnum, plumbum, sic et genera scripturarum 
quatuor ista, autentica, agiographa, communia, apocrifa, 

and, after assigning their due place to the books of the scripture, 
and to the patristic writings he continues : 

Passiones martirum, sanctorum et vitae, quorum ignorantur scriptores 
et in quibus magis fabule quam veritas mera et magis adulatio quam vera 
rei expressio, et libri Origenis et caetera repudianda; in quarto genere 
plumbeo inter apocrifos numeramus. Passio Andreae, Laurentii, Sixti, 
Ipoliti, Mauricii, Agnetis, Agate, Lucie, eciliae, Vincentii, et vite sanc- 
torum quas Jeronimus (et) Gregorius scripserunt, et regula Basilii et 
Benedict!, et libri Prosperi, viri sanctissimi, et exorcismus aquae et bap- 
tismi, omnia haec in secundo genere argenteo collocamus apostolica auc- 

In the second chapter of the book the difficult problems of the 
origins and propagation have been treated with great discrimina- 
tion. Professor Gerould touches in turn upon the personnel of the 
legends, the interweaving of fabulous elements and popular fiction 
with historical data, where the psycho-pathological phenomena have 
been unduly exaggerated ; the part played by Neo-Platonism in the 
development of romantic tendencies in the rifacimenti of the ear- 
lier, more sober accounts, and in the composition of new traditions ; 
the multiplication of saints through paleographical and archeo- 
logical misunderstandings; the repeated duplication of incidents 
and miracles, and, even of saints; the creative power of folk- 
etymology, and the absurd localization of saints, due partly to 
popular fantasy, but more to financial considerations. In his dis- 
cussion of the question of Christian saints as successors of the gods 
he takes a middle ground between the views of radical critics like 
Usener, and those of more conservative tendencies, like Delehaye, 
tending, however, towards the former, as one is bound to do, who 
considers that in this, as in every phase of religious usage, the 
Christian church adopted and glossed over pagan practices. As 
temples became churches, the gods, who at first were treated in 
conformity with the much cited passage of Psalms, xcv, 5 : <: Omnes 
dii gentium daemonia," were transformed into saints, pagan holi- 
days appeared again as saints' days, and the preservation of a 
buried body, which in popular pagan tradition had been regarded 


as the token of a vampire, became under the new dispensation an 
assured confirmation of the sanctity of the person concerned. Pro- 
fessor Gerould takes as a good illustration of this naive fashion of 
adaptation, the creation of a St. Josaphat out of Buddha, and the 
legend of St. Veronica. He has noted how stories have passed 
from folklore into hagiography, and back again into popular tra- 
dition, if, as at times, the drift was not all one way, when a Greek 
romance was preserved with variations in the far-travelled life of 
St. Alexis, or when the epic hero Vivien became a local French 

There are two or three slips which are worth noting. Professor 
Gerould has unhappily picked out the late historical romance, 
dealing with Julitta and Cyriacus as having "the sobriety and 
simplicity of manner that characterizes the most authentic pas- 
sions" (31), but he depends upon a late Latin rationalized recen- 
sion of the A eta Cyriaci et Julittae } of which the earlier form, 
found in a Syriac version, contains some of the wildest of fictions. 7 
We did not need to wait for Kuhn to point out in 1893 that the 
Apologia of Aristides was enbedded in the Greek text of Barlaam 
and Josaphat (47). That had already been done by J. Armitage 
Kobinson in his supplement to J. Eendel Harris's first edition of 
the Syriac text of the Apologia, published in 1891. A liberal 
bibliography is offered (351-3) as a guide to the subjects of the 
first two chapters. It is curious that one does not find noted there, 
Alfred Maury's Legendes pieuses du moyen age, published in 1843, 
the first modern treatment of the subject of this book. Of recent 
literature the author has failed to refer to such important articles 
as Harnack's "Das urspriingliche Motiv d. Abfassung von Martyrer- 
und Heilungsakten in der Kirche," 8 and Geffcken's " Die christ- 
lichen Martyrien," 9 and Delehaye's Les origins du culte des 
Martyrs (1912). As a supplement to his own first-class study on 
the legend of St. Eustace, Professor Gerould should have men- 
tioned the articles of A. Monteverdi, 10 and now one can add the 

T -Cf. H. Stocks, "Ein Alexander-brief in den Acta Cyriaci et Julittae," 
Ztitschr. f. Kvrchengeschichte, xxxi (1910), Iff. 

8 Bitsungsber. d. Berl. Acad., 1910, 106-25. 

"Hermes, XLV (1910), 481-505. 

10 "La Leggenda di S. Eustachio," Studi Medievali, in (1908-1911), 169- 
229, 392-498. 


investigations of Meyer aus Speyer, Hilka, Bossuet and Liidtke. 11 
As the patron saint of England, should there not have been a refer- 
ence to Matzke's and Krumbacher's enlightening work on the 
legend of St. George ? 

In the third chapter so well entitled " The Epic Legend in Old 
English/' Professor Gerould has given us the very best treatment 
that has been written upon the subject, both on account of his 
knowledge of the background of the poems, and his keen perception 
of critical values, which allows him to do justice where it is needed, 
as in the case of Juliana. In discussing the sources, he has failed 
to note that for their themes it was not so much a question of 
choice of subject, as a transmission into vernacular of apocryphal 
traditions, for which the early Anglo-Irish Church showed such a 
fondness. One indication of this literary survival is Professor C. 
F. Brown's discovery of Cynewulf's use of an Irish redaction of 
the Latin text of Elene (71), and similar results will be reached 
by the investigation of other Old-English saints' legends. It is 
more than a coincidence that the subject of Elene and the Dream 
of the Rood were both written in Northumbria, where the cross was 
carried to victory in the seventh century by the reigning family, of 
which more than one member came into intimate touch with Irish 
culture. No such lists or lists of the apostles, which Professor 
Krapp postulated as the source of The Fates of the Apostles (78), 
could be, or were, used by Bede in his Martyrologium, as the work 
Professor Krapp cites as such was a German compilation, posterior 
by several centuries to Bede. 11 * 

The fourth chapter on "Prose Legends before the Conquest" 
deals with the legends of the saints common to the church uni- 
versal, and of those of British and Irish birth, in Latin and Old 
English. In his account of St. Ealdhelm (97-8), Professor Gerould 
has missed the poem De aris ~beatae Mariae et duodecim apostolis 
dedicatis, 12 which deserves consideration for more than one reason. 
In it, use was made of the Abdias collection as it was in Andreas 
and The Fates of the Apostles, in the genuine Martyrologium of 

^Nachrichten von d. K. Ges. d. Wissenschaft zu Gtittingen, 1915, 269- 
287; 1916,461-551; 743-800; 1917> 80-95; 703-745, 746-760. 

u Cf. Hamilton, "The Sources of the Fates of the Apostles and An- 
dreas," M. L. N., xxxv, 385-7. 

a Migne, Pair. Lat., LXXXIX, 291-296. 


Bede, and in the Homilies of Aelfric (121). Since the appearance 
of Professor Gerould's book, there has been published 13 an inter- 
esting early life of St. Ethelbert, as well as that of Giraldus 
Cambrensis, which was known to exist, but is not mentioned by 
Professor Gerould. The surviving fragment of a translation of the 
Passion of St. Quentin can not be cited as an indication of " the 
close relations that subsisted between the English and Gallican 
Churches during the second half of the tenth century " nor of the 
introduction of new cults (115), as St. Quentin finds his due place 
in Bede's Martyrologium, 1 * and the Gallican influence was at an 
early period a distinctive element in the Anglo-Irish church, 15 a 
fact which explains the introduction of the leading Frankish saint, 
Martin, into the work of Ealdhelm (96), and of other English 
legendaries (113, 119-20). Is the English translation of the 
Pseudo-Matthew (123) the work mentioned in a twelfth- century 
catalogue of the library of Durham Cathedral, found in the same 
manuscript as an English life of Paulinus: "Liber Paulini 
Anglicus. Liber de Nativitate Sanctae Mariae Anglicus " ? 1<J If 
Paulinus represented the Eomanizing tendencies, in his mission in 
Northumbria (57), Durham was the legitimate heir of the literary 
tendencies, as well as of the ecclesiastical usages of Lindisfarne, 
whence the monks brought the relics of St. Cuthbert amid the 
alarms of the Northman's invasion, to rest at Durham. If this 
invasion, beginning with the end of the eighth century, explains in 
part the decline of the English epic (92), the flight of the monks 
from their northern sea-girt monasteries, bringing their manu- 
scripts with them, resulted in introducing an interest in a new 
field of literature among the clerical writers of the inland monas- 
teries, where they sought refuge. 17 

In his fifth chapter, " New Influences : France and the Cult of 
the Virgin/' Professor Gerould has had the advantage of having as 
his guide Paul Meyer's well-known article in the Histoire litte- 

11 M. R. James, English Historical Rev., xxxn (1917), 214 if. 

14 H. Quentin, Les martyrologies historiques du Moyen-Age, 1908, 89. 

16 Cf . H. Zimmer, " Galliens Anteil an Irlands Christianisierung im 4.-5. 
Jahrh. und altir. Bildung," Sitzungsb. d. Berl. Ak., 1909, 582 ff. 

11 Cat. vet. Lilr. eccl. Cath. Dunelm., (Publ. of the Surtees Society, 
vn) 5. 

11 Cf. H. M. Banister, "Liturgical Fragments," Journ. of Theological 
Studies, ix (1908), 401. 


raire, in the lives of saints in Old French, to which but little can 
be added in the way of information and critical estimates. The 
popularity of the life of St. Margaret (125) was, no doubt, due to 
the virtues claimed for it as a charm in child-birth; 18 and it 
should be noted, that the French life of Edward the Confessor was 
a translation of Ailred's work (141), 10 and the life of St. Thomas 
by Gamier de Pont Sainte-Maxence, one of the gems of Old French 
literature, deserves some other consideration than the f act t that it 
"has independent historical values" (135-6). In the account of 
the Latin lives, mention should have been made of Goscelin's lives 
of Ethelburga, and Wulfhilda only recently discovered, 20 although 
known to Bale, 21 the source of Capgrave's version. In connection 
with the French influences the subject of the evolution of mari- 
olatry is properly discussed, because it was in France that this 
superstition began, and where were first written single works, and 
various collections devoted to enhancing Mary's worship. The 
phrase (146) : "In England, as well as in Germany and France, 
we find during the tenth century an increased attention to the 
cult/' does not specify the source of the cult, and dates it, perhaps, 
a century too early. 

The sixth chapter on " The Conquest to the Eeformation," Pro- 
fessor Gerould devotes to one part of that wide field, the legendaries, 
and saints' lives in works of history and edification, and he adds 
much to the elucidation of such composite collections, as the so- 
called South-English Legendary, the North-English Homily Col- 

18 P. Meyer, Hist, litt., xxxn, 100-1; Miracles de Nostre Dame, ed. G. 
Paris et U. Robert, I, 13, rr, 299; O. Davidson, "Islandische Zauberzeichen 
und Zauberbiicher," Zeitschr. d. Ver. f. Volkskunde, xm (1903), 163-4. 
On invocating her and the use of other relics; P. Saintyves, "iCeintures 
magiques et processions enveloppantes," Rev, d. trad, pop., xxv (1910), 
116; Duine, "Les Trad. pop. du pays de Dol," Annales de Bretagne, XV 
(1900), 491; Laisnel de la Salle, Le Berry, II, Mceiws et coutumes (1902), 
19; Mir. de Nostre Dame, v, 260. 

M E. Langlois, Not. et Extr., xxxni, ii, 10. 

*M. Esposito, Hermathena, xvi (1910), 86-90; Anal. Boll, XXXTT (1913), 

* Index Britanniae 8criptorum, ed. R. L. Poole, 1902, 498. The lives of 
Wulfhilda, and Ethelburga, as well as of Bertinus and Erkenwald are 
noted without the name of the author in the catalogue^ of the Library of 
Dover Priory, drawn up in 1389; M. R. James, The Ancient Libraries, 
etc., 458. 


lection and the Scottish Legend Collection. His judgments on 
their manner of composition, their dates and authors are given with 
an authority which carries conviction, based as they are on a de- 
tailed and extended study of the texts, on which any future student 
will find an indispensable guide in the extensive bibliography of 
both editions and manuscripts. It is interesting to know that the 
Festival of Mirk was printed once at Paris, and twice at Rouen 
before 1500 (187-8), but it is more interesting to point out the 
cause in the fact that dozens of church service-books were printed 
at these two places in the same period, for the English market. 22 
In discussing the sources of the Cursor Mundi (200-1), Professor 
Gerould has followed in the footsteps of his predecessors in attri- 
buting to its author the merit of collecting, as well as translating, 
his originals, a fault common to most students who have under- 
taken to investigate the sources of various extensive mediaeval com- 
pilations. For instance, there can not be much doubt but that a 
single French manuscript 23 was the source of the Northern writer's 
account of the conception of the Virgin, and the stories of the 
childhood of Christ, and the harrowing of Hell, and furnished him 
the suggestion to make use of an earlier English rendering of the 
story of the assumption of the Virgin. To a Northern writer the 
poem of Wace L' Etablissemeni de la fete de la conception Notre- 
Dame, which formed a part of the original compilation, would have 
been of particular interest, as it was inspired by a miracle per- 
formed for the benefit of an abbot of Eamsey in the eleventh 
century. 24 The statement that the Alphaletum narrationum is 
"now supposed to be the work of Arnold of Liege'' (201), is un- 
necessarily vague in the light of our present knowledge on both the 
compiler and the date of the completion of his work, 1308. 25 

The ninety pages (204-293) devoted to the " The Course of the 
Legend " are little enough to devote to the subject which includes 
the same wide field as the chapter just discussed, and in them the 
author shows himself once more a master of compression in com- 

*"E. G. Duff, Westminster and London Printers, 1^16-1585, 1906, 204-6. 

w Cf. e. ff., P. Meyer, Hist. litt. de la France, xxxni, 364-5. 

* /&., 363. 

"Compare now the best statement on the subject by E. Schroeder, 
"Legenda Aurea et Alphabets Narrationum," Beitr. z. Gesch. d. deutsch. 
Sprache und Lit., XLin (1918), 545-8. 


position. Much that is as new, as it is original is found in his 
criticism of the work of Chaucer and Lydgate, as writers of saints' 
lives, and his account of minor writers like Capgrave and Henry 
Bradshaw brings out their merit in a proper perspective. A few 
omissions may be worth noting. An occidental version of the life 
of St. Catherine (208) has been recently pointed out as being ex- 
tant in the eighth or ninth century, two centuries before the date of 
any other evidence of her cult even in the Orient. 26 That the source 
of the Childhood of Jesus, found in the South-English Legendary, 
was the later French version, due to an Anglo-Norman author 
(215), has been noted by Holthausen, 27 and no reference is made 
to the possible relationship of the northern poem on the same 
subject (225-6) to Carton's Infantia salvatoris, which Professor 
Gerould fails to mention. Analogues to the " chapel of Jerusalem " 
in the poem of Celestin (228) are found not only in Henry IV's 
Jerusalem, but in the stories of the deaths of Alexander the Great, 28 
the emperor Frederick II, 29 and Cecco d'Ascoli, 30 to mention only 
great historical characters. 31 An edition of what it seems safe to 
regard as the poem on The Holy Blood of Hales (273), printed by 
Pynson, has been noted as still surviving in the seventeenth cen- 
tury. 32 The poem on St. Wulfhad and St. Ruffin, which contains 
some variants from the text published by Holthausen (273-5), was 
printed in S. Gunton's History of the Church of Peterburgh, pub- 
lished in 1686, 33 and such entries as "Versus pannorum penden- 

"H. Delehaye, Anal. Boll., xxxn (1913), 306-7. 

" " Zum mittelengl. Gedicht, ' Kindheit Jesti,' " Herrigs Archiv, cxxvn 
(1911), 318. 

" Th. Noldecke, " Beitr. z. Gesch. d. Alexanderromans," Denkschr. d. 
Wien. Akad. Phil.-Hist. Kl., xxxvra, v T1S90), 47, n. 2; R. Meissner, 
"MufoaSgirs Ahbar el-Iskender," Zeitschr. d. deutsch. morgenland. Gesell- 
schaft,-XLix (1895), 617. 

88 F. Guterbock, " Eine Biographic Friedrichs II," Neues Arch. d. Ges. 
f. alter, deutsch. Geschlchtskunde, xxx (1905), 46-7. 

" G. Boffitq, "II ' De principiis Astrologiae ' di Cecco d' Ascoli," Giorn. 
st. d. Litt. it,, Supplemento 6, p. 59, n. 2. 

** Cf. e. g., J. A. Herbert, Cat. of Romances, m (1919), 693-4, 720. 

E. G. Duff, "The Library of R. Smith" [1632], Library, 2d Ser. vm 
(1907), 127. For the fate of relic cf. St. John Hope, Archaeol. Journ., 
LXVIU (1910), 166 ff. 

"Pp. 103-112, of. 72. In the Christ Church catalogue, referred to below, 
one finds (M. R. James, The Ancient Libraries of Canterbury and Dover, 
1903, 110) the entry "Vita Sanctorum Alphardi et Ruffini fratrum." 


cium in ecclesia Cantuariensi," and " Versus f enestrarum uitrearum 
ecclesie Cantuar.," found in a catalogue of the library of Christ 
Church, Canterbury, drawn up c. 1300, 34 and Dr. M. R. James's 
publication of, and comments on, the latter of these, 35 have escaped 
the author's notice. Much can still be done to localize and date 
both the larger collections and separate works, by investigations 
into the use of certain liturgical texts, connected with the history 
of various religious orders, and the libraries of different monastic 

In the chapter on " Saints' Lives in Drama," Professor Gerould 
sets forth the fragmentary evidence on the subject that survives. 
He has failed, however, to bring out the fact (294-6) that the 
miracle plays, based on saints' lives, had a development, independent 
of the older mysteries, which were of liturgical origin, as the former 
had their origin in a wish to present dramatically the deeds of 
heroes, whose lives had been already sung in church by jongleurs, 
as is evidenced by the poems of 8:t. Leger, St. Alexis, and others. 8 * 
The introduction of bits of French into Latin mysteries and miracle 
plays has been, indeed, explained in an acceptable way, 37 as due to 
the use of " epitres farcies," which formed a part of the services, 
held in honor of the saints. The continued popularity of miracle 
plays in England is attested by a short but important passage in 
the Manuel des Pechiez, of William de "Waddington, 38 written in 
the latter part of the thirteenth century, which has escaped Pro- 
fessor Gerould's attention. This rather rigid moralist inveighs 
against the fondness of the English clerics for such representations 
in church, where he considers only plays on the resurrection should 
be given. In the account of the Croxton Play of the Sacrement 
(304-5), there are several statements to which exception must be 
taken. It is not "unique in being the only drama known to us, 

"James, op. tit., cf. 122: "Versus fenestrarum uitrearum ecclesie 
Christi et rithmus, uersifice." 

88 The Verses formerly inscribed on the Twelve Windows in the Choir of 
Canterbury Cathedral, 'Cambridge Ant. Soc. Octav. Publ., xxxvni, 1901; 
cf. On the Abbey Church of St. Edmund at Bury, Cam. Ant. Publ., xxvin, 
1895, 186 if. 

11 G. Paris, Journal des Savants, 1901, 783. 

*H. Suchier u. A. Birch-Hirsohfeld, Gesch. d. franzos. Litt., 1900, 273-5; 
G. Paris, I. c. 

*Ed. F. J. Furnivall (E.E.T.S.) w. 4292 ff. 


either by text or by contemporary notice, that was based on an 
exemplum" as we have more than one reference to more than one 
play, or at least, performance, of a play on King Robert of Sicily, 39 
of which the source was certainly an exemplum. Further, the 
theory that the author of the Croxton play based it on a stock 
exemplum is not " confirmed by the Latin lines with which it is 
interlarded," as these lines have been shown 40 to be phrases chiefly 
Scriptural, such as one would expect to find in a play with liturgical 
antecedents. Again, the English drama is not " chiefly peculiar in 
its denouement : the Jew and his accomplices are converted by the 
miracle, absolved and baptized/' as in one exemplum,^ of which 
the scene is laid in Breslau, and in the French mystery, 42 where it 
is laid in Paris where it is located by church tradition those of 
the Jews who survive are converted and baptized. The reference 
in the " banns " of the English play to the performance of a play 
on the subject in Rome in 1461, leads one to connect it with the 
performance given in 1473 at the same place by a Florentine com- 
pany in honor of a princess of the ruling Spanish house of Naples, 
Eleonora d'Aragona, 43 a factor which would account for the local- 
izing of the play in Spain in the Italian drama. Whether the 
Rqippresentazione de uno Miracolo del Corpo di Christo, of which 
there are several editions, 44 can be identified with the play of 1473, 
or as the source of the English play, must be left to future 

In the final chapter, " The Reformation and Since," is traced 
the fate of the type, after it had fallen into disfavor as an instru- 
ment for religious inspiration. It is interesting to follow its 
evolution from the time when it was fostered for sinister political 
purposes by a minority, in which the most important part was taken 
by the Jesuits, responsible as they have been in Papist countries, 

E. K. Chambers, The Mediceval Stage, n, 151, 205, 356, 378. 

40 F. Holthausen, Anglia xv (1893), 199-200. 

41 Magnum speculum exemplorum, Cologne, 1611, 380-1. In another ver- 
sion not found in the older editions, it is localized in Bruxellcs, and the 
Jew's name is Jonathas as in the English dramas, (/&., 390-1). In another 
version located "in partibus Al[l] emannie " the one nameless Jew con- 
cerned is converted (Speculum laicorum, ed. Welter, 1914, 53). 

" Petit de Julleville, Les Mysteres, rr (1880), 575. 

*A. D'Ancona, Origini del Teatro italiano, 2d ed., 1880, I, 287-8. 

"Colomb de Batines, Bill. d. antiche Rappr. it., 1852, 34. 


for the spread of the worship of saints, to the use made of it as a 
weapon of propaganda by the High Churchmen of the Oxford 
movement, and its availability as a source of information for the 
modern historical scholar. In the discussion of the earliest phase, 
attention could have been called to the influence exerted by an 
appeal to the reputation of various shrines, in the various armed 
revolts against the reformed religion and government. 

One can only close this somewhat extended review by re-empha- 
sizing the worth of Professor Gerould's book, from every point of 
view : completeness of plan, care in execution, sound critical judg- 
ments, presented in a style that commands attention ; resulting in 
a monograph on a subject, the all-embracing completeness of which 
must strike the reader. The few hints, which have been added, are 
such as are welcome to any author who covers such a wide field, 
that he has to accept as authoritative the statements of others on 
certain details. 

Cornell University. 

Theodor Fontane. A critical Study by KENNETH HAYENS, M. A., 
Lecturer in German Language and Literature, University 
College, Dundee. London: W. Collins Sons & Co. 1920. 
282 pp. 

In der Mainummer von The London Mercury steht der folgende 
iiberraschende Satz der Schriftleitung : " In the last forty years 
Germany has produced precious little, beyond Nietzsche and a few 
poems of Liliencron and Dehmel, that foreigners could desire for 
its artistic merits or the depth of its insight or feeling." " Hay ens 
kann nun mit seinem Buch iiber Fontane seine selbstgefalligen 
Briider vom London Mercury wenigstens iiber einen der grossen 
deutschen Realisten unterrichten, der die meisten seiner Biicher 
nach 1880 geschrieben hat, unter anderen Effi Briest (1895), 
woriiber das Urtell von Hayens gefallt wird: "It is undoubtedly 
worthy of a place among the great novels of the nineteenth cen- 
tury ! " 

Hayens' Werk sollte eigentlich heissen: Theodor Fontane as 
a Novelist, denn es ist tatsachlich eine Art grossangelegte Disserta- 


tion und keine Gesamtdarstellung des Fontaneschen Schaffens. 
Die friihere Fontane-Forschung ausser Richard M. Meyer kommt 
leider auffallend zu kurz dabei, aber das hatte durch andere Ver- 
dienste der neuen Arbeit aufgehoben werden konnen. Selbst wenn 
nur die paar Schriften beniitzt worden waren, die im Vorwort 
aufgezahlt sind, hatte die Persb'nlichkeit Fontanes tiefer erfasst 
und besser dargestellt werden konnen. Der Verfasser bekennt 
zwar f reimiitig : " I have made no attempt to cover the ground of 
a possible source-book/' aber seine ganze Arbeit beweist, dass man 
den Romanschreiber nicht richtig, besonders nicht " kritisch " 
beurteilen kann, ohne die wichtigen Quellen seines Lebens und 
Schaffens zu kennen. Dazu gehoren hier u. a. die vielen auf- 
schlussreichen Briefausserungen des Schriftstellers und besonders 
bei seinen geschichtlichen Erzahlungen, z. B. Vor dem Sturm und 
Grete Minde, die tatsachlichen Unterlagen. 

Zu diesen Einwanden, die sich auf die Gesamtanlage und Auffas- 
sung des Buches beziehen, kommen noch verschiedene gegen 
einzelne schiefe Urteile, z. B., " Fontane understands nothing of 
stagecraft" (p. 122). Hier hatte eine vorziigliche amerikanische 
und leicht zugangliche Dissertation von Bertha E. Trebein: 
Theodor Fontane as a Critic of the Drama (New York, Columbia 
University Press, 1916) unsern Verfasser griindlich anders 
belehren konnen. Was dann iiber Fontanes Verhaltnis zur " Ber- 
liner Schule " von Mauthner, Smidt und Zolling gesagt wird oder 
iiber Parisius (pp. 121; 64), klingt wenig neu. Dagegen hatte 
der etwas besser behandelte Hesekiel (pp. 35; 63) mehr ernste 
Beachtung verdient. Wahrscheinlich leiden die geschichtlichen 
Einordnungen an einer nicht richtigen Perspektive. Etwas merk- 
wiirdig klingt ein Satz auf Seite 7; danach waren Fontane und 
Alexis "generally supposed (!) to be of French extraction." Ein 
Steckenpferd des Verfassers sei noch erwiihnt, namlich die genaue 
Untersuchung Fontanescher Titel (pp. 49; 175; 227). Anstatt 
Graf Petofy wird z. B. vorgeschlagen : Graf Petofy und seine 

Am besten fahrt Fontane unter Hayens' Betrachtung als 
Romanschreiber im engeren Sinn, und zwar in 9 Kapiteln: The 
Historical Novelist (Vor dem Sturm; Schach) ; The Story Teller 
(Grete Minde, etc.) ; The New World (Quitt) ; Berlin Plutocracy 
(L'Adultera; Frau Jenny Treibel) ; Unequal Marriages (I. Graf 


Petb'fy; Cecile; II. Unwiederbringlich; Effi Briest) ; Sentiment 
and Society (Irrungen; Stine) ; Poor Nobility (Poggenpuhls) ; A 
Liberal Conservative (Der Stechlin). Das klingt verlockender als 
es gemeint ist, denn es werden die einzelnen Komane nach einem 
gewissen trockenen Muster behandelt, etwa: the actual story, the 
plot, the characters, the scenes, proportion, etc. Aber alles ist 
verstandnisvoll gelesen worden und wird ganz warm und ver- . 
standig verarbeitet. Nur an wenigen Charakteren, z. B. von 
L'Adultera oder Grete Minde sieht der Verfasser vorbei. Besonders 
zutreffende Worte werden iiber des Eomanschreibers Stellung- 
nahme zum Leben gefunden (pp. 99; 211), wobei freilich wieder 
zu sagen ist, dass zahlreiche Brief stellen usw. schon zur Vertiefung 
beigetragen hatten. Der Dichter Fontane hat nicht " nur Bal- 
laden/' sondern auch Gedichte geschrieben, wie sie Austin Dobson 
nicht besser geben konnte. Vielweniger gerecht wird der Ver- 
fasser dem Kiinstler Fontane. Es geht nicht an, "avoidance of 
the directly emotional" (p. 59) auf Fontanes Alter allein zu 
schieben. In diesem Zusammenhang ware von dem Markertum 
in der Literatur zu reden gewesen ; damit hatte auch die Behand- 
lung von Fontanes Verhaltnis zu W. Alexis sehr gewonnen. Hayens 
zeigt iibrigens gute Auffassung fiir das Verhaltnis der Stilarten 
beider, freilich lasst er sich hier wieder ein schones Selbstzeugnis 
Fontanes entgehen, namlich den bemerkenswerten Aufsatz iiber 
WiUibald Alexis. 

Am Ende von Hayens^ Schrift erlebt man eine Feberraschung, 
das ist eine scharfe Abkanzelung Fontanes (pp. 249; 251; 269) 
wegen verschiedener Aeusserungen iiber England, die allerdings 
nicht schmeichelhaft sind, trotzdem am Anfang der Schrift gesagt 
war, "how well qualified he (Fontane) was to record impressions 
of travel/' Schweigen bei diesem Punkte ware m.E. kliiger 
gewesen. Alles in allem bleibt Hayens' Buch ein bemerkenswerter 
Beitrag der englischen Literaturforschung zum 100. Geburtstag 
des freien deutschen Dichters und Kiinstlers Theodor Fontane. 



L'Etat de Guerre and Projet de Paix Perpetuelle, two essays by 
JEAN-JACQUES ROUSSEAU; with introduction and notes by 
PUTNAM. New York : G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1920. liv + 90 pp. 

The reprint in a separate little volume of these two essays is due 
chiefly to their " modernity," to the " suggestiveness to students of 
present day problems/' as the editors say. 

In the first, "L'Etat de Guerre" (pp. 3-20), one certainly finds 
the stamp of Rousseau's thought and style. That man makes you 
think, even when you are not willing, for a thousand considerations, 
to agree with him. His arguments are arguments, and this is after 
all the best a philosopher can offer. Between truth and the search 
for truth, many already have preferred the second. At the same 
time, one may be allowed to say here that R. knew what he was 
doing when he did not consider this essay as one of his really 
finished products. By this the writer does not mean to say that 
the essay ought not to be printed ; by all means students of R. must 
know it; but whether young students will profit much by it is 
another question; it is so abstract that it may well give them a 
distaste for R. One may say that one line by a " poilu " who has 
seen the great war and tells of his actual experiences will do more 
to convey to us the horrors of war than the pages of R. drawn from 
pure imagination, eloquent though those pages may be. 

Towards the second essay (pp. 23-76) the writer feels very 
differently. Indeed it is a remarkably clear and concise statement 
of the very problems the world has a chance to solve today. The 
forceful dialect of R. is bound to persuade sceptics that the 
" Societe des peuples de 1'Europe " today more simply " Socie"te 
des peuples" is certainly conceivable and feasible, if only men 
wanted it. Everything is there : Normal Angell's " Great Illusion," 
the problem of disarmament, and the ideas of the Hague Tribunal, 
of the League for Enforcement of Peace, of Wilson's League of 
Nations. Moreover, the discussion and demonstration is based 
entirely on the political situation of the eighteenth century. This 
is itself an advantage, for, in the first place, national prejudices 
are not quite the same today as they were in the eighteenth century ; 
at any rate, the rivalries among nations rest on different problems. 
Thus we can consider them and their solution by an international 
league without our present day passions getting aroused and con* 


fusing our judgment. In the second place, the political conditions 
today are infinitely more favorable to peace conditions ; the people 
have more to say than they had in the age of K. The democratic 
spirit of our day has done away with the idea that the monarch has 
a right to run the state for other purposes than the general welfare. 
We no longer consider war as a conflict between " Princes/' as K. 
would say, but between " Peuples souverains." And there are other 
things that seemed quite hard obstacles when K. wrote and which 
appear today much easier to overcome. Mr. Patterson would have 
presented these ideas to a larger public by publishing a translation 
of the essays, but this had been only recently done by Mr. C. E. 
Vaughan (London, Constable, 1917). 

The Foreword of Mr. Putnam (pp. iii-xiv) is a masterly and 
concise presentation of the history of the idea of everlasting peace 
from Emeric Cruce's Le Nouveau Cynee (1623) to President 
Wilson's League of Nations. This history is preceded by a no less 
interesting account of the attempts made by the Eoman Empire 
and then by the Church and then by the German Empire to assure 
peace to the world attempts which were all futile. Mr. Putnam 
recalls with some details the earnest efforts to prompt the feeling 
for universal peace made by Prince Albert in 1861, at the time of 
the first World's Fair in London, and which many of us had indeed 
quite forgotten. On the other hand, Mr. Putnam does not mention 
here the contribution made to the cause of Peace by the Hague 
Tribunal, the idea of which was launched by the Russian court. 
Is it because everyone knows about it ? 

Professor Patterson in his "Introduction" (pp. xvii-liii) has 
another object in view. He wishes to offer to his readers a back- 
ground to R/s two essays. He gives some information on eighteenth 
century literature (the Age des Philosophes) in general, in which 
he makes no claim to originality, then on R. himself. We may be 
permitted to say that for an already quite confirmed Rousseauist 
as Mr. Patterson has been for some time, he has allowed some rather 
curious misstatements to creep in. 1 This must be ascribed, however, 

1 E. g> R.'s first readings were not " Romances of Chivalry," but rather 
pastoral or precieux romances; there is quite a nuance (p. xxv). One 
would hardly call the house which Mme de Warens rented near Chamb^ry 
a "villa"; it is because it was not a villa that R. liked it so well 
(p. xxv). The French Academy did not "reject" R.'s "System of Nota- 
tion of Music." iR. lived at Montmorency for six years, but less than two 


we are sure, to his desire to bring his little book before the public 
at an early date: it is needed right now! The ten pages or so 
devoted to the influence of R., in which Mr P. produces interesting 
appreciations by very great men of R/s powerful mind make a good 
counterblast to the now fashionable sport of abusing R/s so-called 
shallow democraticism or romanticism. The " Notes " are generally 
useful. The writer is inclined to think, however, that if Mr. P. 
presupposed, perhaps, too little general information on the part of 
his readers in the " Introduction," he presupposed too much at 
times in the " Notes." But this may be a purely personal opinion. 
The text adopted by Mr. Patterson is that of Professor Vaughan 
in the latter's admirable Political Writings of Rousseau. 


Smith College. 


In his Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope, 1 Joseph' 
Warton speaks of Aaron Hill's " Poem in Praise of Blank Verse, 
which begins thus; and which," he says, "one would think was 
burlesque : 

Up, from Rhyme's poppied vale! and ride the storm 
That thunders in blank verse! " 

I have been unable to find the piece in Hill's collected works, 2 
and, although Warton's note regarding it is referred to by Mr. 
Beers, 3 and Mr. J. W. Good, 4 neither scholar seems to have seen 
the poem. Mr. Good says that it was "dated about 1726," but 
does not give the source of his information. Miss Dorothy 

of them in the "house built for him by an admirer" (p. xxviii). R. did 
not flee to Geneva in 1762 (<p. xxxi) ; then he was three continuous years 
at Metiers before he went to England, and again eight continuous years in 
Paris, 1770-1778. As for the statement that according to Rousseau the 
state rests on "arbitrary convention," there is a probability that the 
author of the .Social Contract would not very much like it (p. xxx). 
1 1782, n, 251 n., or 5th ed., 1806, n, 186 n. 

* Second ed., 4 vols., 1754. 

English Romanticism in the Eighteenth Century, 271. 

4 Studies in the Milton Tradition (University of Illinois Studies in Lan- 
guage, etc., 1915), 166. 


Brewster does not mention the work in her detailed life of Hill, 5 
though she does say that The Prompter (which Hill published 
between 1734 and 1736) contains some discussions of "the relative 
merits of rhyme and blank verse/' that were " illustrated by Hill's 
own efforts." 

Miss Addie F. Kowe, of Cambridge, Massachusetts, has, however, 
found the very lines that Warton quotes. They occur in the middle 
of Hill's long unrimed Cleon to Lycidas at the beginning as a sort 
of digression on the subject of blank verse. 6 Undoubtedly this is 
the " Poem " Warton had in mind ; he may have found it printed 
separately somewhere, perhaps in The Prompter. According to 
Gibber, 7 Cleon to Lycidas was published about 1738. 

In the first edition of his Essay Warton did not print the words 
" poem in praise of Blank Verse " as a title, and seems, therefore, ' 
to have intended merely to describe the piece, not to name it. Any 
one who reads the lines carefully will see that their author would 
never have given them such a title, for instead of being, as they 
seemed to Warton, a serious attempt in the Miltonic style so unsuc- 
cessful as to appear almost burlesque, they are burlesque. Far from 
praising blank verse, they attempt to show that it is suitable to 
describe nothing but the brawls of " faction." 

Oh what, ye gothic renders of the ear ! 

Ye blank-verse bursters of Pierian bars ! 

(Strong beyond chaining comet; swerves of thought! 

Giant surmounters of wit's loftiest Alps! 

Ye hurlers of prose rocks at musick's heaven ! 

What shall deserve the dread, your thunder bears? 

FACTION deserves, and claims it: cries a howl, 

That paints th' attentive soul Come, learn her laws. 

Give, to the deity, that shakes down thrones, 

Th' allegiance of thy Muse. Blank verse be mine. 

Guideless and boundless in aspiring grasp, 

And frownful in majestic sullenness, 

Her musick dwells in murmur. Let her growl 

[For faction: taste her lust of loud complaint, 

And hang on empire's wheels the drag of hate. 

Range safe beneath her standard: mark its sweep! 

Unfurling into length, the dreadful wave 

Sees earth's chjll'd kingdoms shake, beneath its shade! 

Kneel, and be HERS: enroll thy name and rail. 


University of Rochester. 

Columbia University Studies in English, etc., 1913. 

Works, iv, 285. 

T Lives, 1753, v, 275, 271. 



In 1862, when George Herbert received his first appointment in 
the church, he became lay prebendary in the parish of Leighton- 
Bromswold, a little village in Hants, about nine miles west of the 
city of Huntingdon. The church there he found in a state verging 
on complete ruin. In the rehabilitation of it, he became deeply 
interested, and solicited funds for its repair, as well as contributing 
to it himself. The work on it continued until after his death, seven 
years later. That he was deeply interested in it may be seen from 
the fact that he refused to comply with his mother's urgent request 
that he give up the work, which she thought too strenuous for him, 
and that in his will, he left ten pounds to the Leighton-Bromswold 
church, no mean sum in those days. 

About a hundred years before he became prebend at Leighton, 
there was born on the little low range of hills, or wold, on which 
that village lies, a boy who, too, became distinguished as a poet, 
and with whose work, Herbert certainly must have been familiar. 
This was none other than the poet Nicholas Grimald, who was born 
at Brownshold, as he says in his poem, A funeral song, upon the 
deceas of Annes his mother, a place that can with reasonable cer- 
tainty be identified with Bromswold. 

At the University of Cambridge, the University which Herbert 
attended, Grimald distinguished himself by his scholarship. He 
was graduated in 1539/40, then he went to Oxford, where he 
further distinguished himself as a lecturer in rhetoric, as the author 
of several Latin plays, and as a translator. Later, he became known 
as a contributor to that anthology then known as " Songes and 
Sonnettes," known now as " Tottell's Miscellany." This book is 
that mentioned by Shakespeare in the Merry Wives of Windsor, 
Act I, Scene 1, in which Master Slender says, " I had rather then 
forty shillings I had my booke of Songes and Sonnettes here " ; 
from it, the grave-diggers in Hamlet, Act V, Scene 1, sing several 
verses of the song entitled The Aged Lover Renounceth Love. 
Before The Church Porch could have been written, the Songes and 
Sonnettes had already run through eight editions, which shows the 
astonishing popularity that it enjoyed. 

A lyric poet, such as Herbert was, could not have been but thor- 
oughly acquainted with the contents of this book, and it is not 
unlikely that from a poem in this volume by Grimald entitled 
Musonius, the Philosopher's saiying that he got the following sen- 
timent with which he closes the Church Porch : 

In brief, acquit thee bravely; play the man 
Look not on pleasures as they come, but go. 
JDeferre not the least vertue. Life's poor span 
Makes not an ell by trifling in thy wo. 
If thou do ill, the joy fades, not the pains, 
If well, the pain doth fade, the joy remains. 


Herbert may have been acquainted with Musonius* saying in the 
original Greek, or with Cato's version of it, which appears in the 
oration delivered at Numantiae: "Cogitate cum animis vestris: 
si quid vos per laborem recte feceritis, labor ille a vobis cito 
recedet, bene factum a vobis, dum vitiis, abscedet; sed si qua 
per voluptatem nequiter feeeritis, voluptatis cito abibit, nequiter 
factum illud apud vos semper manebit," but since the few frag- 
ments of Musonius' works, that were extant, and Cato's oration at 
Numantia were not in wide circulation, it is probable that he was 
more familiar with Grimald's lines : 

In working well, if travell you sustaine: 

Into the winde shall lightly pass the payne: 

But of the deed the glory shall remaine, 

And cause your name with worthy wightes to raigne. 

In workyng wrong, if pleasure you attaine: 

The pleasure soon shall fade, and voide, as vaine : 

But of the deed, throughout the life, the shame 

Endures, defacyng you with fowl defame: 

And still torments the minde, both night and daye: 

(Scant length of time the spot can wash awaye, 

Flee then ylfwading pleasures baits untrew: 

And noble vertues fayr renown pursew. 

Yale University. L- & MERRILL. 


To the notes on fifteenth-century manuscript-relations and on 
identity of scribes, printed from time to time in Anglia, I may 
add mention of an agreement between certain Lydgate-texts as 
copied in Brit. Mus. Lansd. 699 and in the codex Lincoln Cathedral 
C 5/4. These two volumes include among their contents Lydgate's 
Churl cmd Bird, St. Austin at Compton, and Danse Macabre, in 
the same order, and with the closest possible relation in the texts 
of the last-named poem. The Lincoln Cathedral MS. is too much 
mutilated to give conclusive evidence as to the other poems, but 
the presumption is strong that the source of the two groups of 
texts is identical. It was not possible to put the two codices side 
by side; but the hand and the mode of treating the page were so 
similar that the volumes may have been the work of one and the 
same scribe. As the full sisterhood of the Lansdowne MS. and the 
volume Vossius 9 at Leyden has been proved by the published lists 
of their contents see my Chaucer Manual, p. 331, and reference 
to Kobinson's paper, Hid. the Danse Macabre texts of these three 
codices may be regarded as of identical type. 

The Danse Macabre MSS. which I have seen fall into two main 
classes. One version, the Lydgatian, has an introduction in which 
the poet tells us his source, and an epilogue in which he gives his 
name; it closely follows the French, adding a few characters, 
notably the "tregetour" of Henry V.. The other recension has 


neither introduction nor envoy, omits nine characters of Lydgate's 
version, adds seven, and rewrites a number of stanzas; it was evi- 
dently based not on the French but on Lydgate's poem. To this 
latter groun belong the Lansdowne and Lincoln Cathedral texts, 
which introduce freedoms of their own, as does probably Lans- 
downe's sister Leyden, which I have not seen. Only the codices of 
the earlier recension are therefore of any value for Lydgate's Danse 
Macabre. I shall print the Selden text of the poem, accompanying 
it by the French from a MS. of the Bibliotheque Communale at 
Lille, a codex now probably lost, as the municipal buildings of 
Lille were burned during the German occupation of that city. 

A NOTE ON Beowulf 1600-1605 

Do com non dceges; nces ofgeafon 

hwate Scyldingas; gewat him ham J>onon 

gold-wine gumena. Gistas setan 

modes seoce, ond on mere staredon; 

wiston ond ne wendon, \>cet hie heora wine-drihten 

selfne gesawon. 

Successive generations of commentators have enveloped the last 
line and a half in a fog of conjecture and emendation. Many (e. g. 
Cosijn and Klaeber) insist that wiston must be rendered wished. 
Chambers, who takes this view, adds : 

" To interpret wiston as * knew 'would necessitate a blending of 
two constructions: wiston would require ne gesawon; ne wendon 
requires gesawon only. ... Or we might assume that ne had 
dropped out after the ne of selfne ' they knew, and did not merely 
expect, that they should not see their lord himself again.' But this 
gives, after all, only a feeble sense. For why, in that case, did they 

If one passes by this ' wilful ingenuity of blundering ' and trans- 
lates the words as they stand, without wrenching the meaning of 
wiston or emending the text, the sense is perfectly clear : 

' They knew and did not merely expect, that they would see 
their lord himself again/ 

The ne wendon is merely the familiar epic idiom, repeating the 
sense of wiston 'they knew, it was not mere conjecture.' Such 
fullness of expression appears countless times in epic poetry. 

Why should any ne be desired ? The sense given would be indeed 
feeble. The Scyldings gave up hope and left; the followers of 
Beowulf had more confidence in their leader's prowess and waited 
for his return. They had, as we say, ' a feeling in their bones/ 
even though modes seoce. That such mixed feelings of hope and 
fear might exist together is shown in lines 2895-6. 

Victoria College, Toronto. J - D - 


The Modern English Verb-Adverb Combination. By Arthur 
Garfield Kennedy (Stanford University Publications, University 
Series: Language and Literature, vol. i, No. 1. Published by the 
University, 1920). The importance of the subject of this mono- 
graph is made strikingly clear by observations at the beginning 
(p. 8) and at the end (p. 49). It is observed that the editors of 
Webster s Dictionary and the editors of the NED. are free in 
using the verb-adverb combination "in defining other words." 
Thus, Webster, cage ' to shut up, or confine ' ; in the NED. act 2 
' to bring into action, bring about/ " Not infrequently the editors 
of the NED. have utilized combinations in writing definitions 
which they have failed to define or illustrate in their proper places, 
which seems to show that some of our verb-adverb combinations are 
more necessary in the expression of ideas than scholars are willing 
to admit formally." Again (p. 49), " It is slightly amusing to find 
that, as in the case of the verb, the editors of Webster's Dictionary 
occasionally refuse official recognition to a combination-noun but 
let it slip in as part of a definition; which goes to show that the 
student of current tendencies is likely to be confronted not infre- 
quently with the problem of classifying and defining a phrase which 
is rendering a definite service in language and yet has received no 
official recognition." With no trace of exaggeration these plain 
facts freshly invite the attention of the lexicographer and of the 

It is to be understood that, whereas the term ' verb-adverb 
compound' would accurately describe many of the combinations 
here considered, its use would require the drawing of a distinct line 
where no such line can be drawn, namely between true compounds 
and the looser combinations. The author has therefore adopted 
the comprehensive term e verb-adverb combination,' which inter- 
prets his assumption that in the forms here studied " the verb and 
the combining particle " are united in greatly differing degrees of 
closeness. But there is no inexcusable evasion of a difficulty in 
this. Dr. Kennedy recognizes a true compound when the combining 
elements are fused into a symbol for the expression of a new 
meaning, a symbol in which the separate elements " have almost or 
altogether sacrificed their individual meanings." This new mean- 
ing can often be expressed by another word. Thus, come by, 
' acquire } ; make out, ' understand ' ; put out, ' extinguish/ "In 
other combinations, however, and by far the greatest number, the 
verb is modified in meaning by a certain weakly adverbial function 
of the particle but does not entirely merge its verbal personality 
in the combination. The particle, it is true, loses much of its usual 
adverbial or prepositional signification but in the combination 
assumes peculiar adverbial values, as, for example, in ... bottle 
up, ' enclose in a bottle/ "button up, ' fasten with buttons/ And in 
many others, finally, the usual values of verb and prepositional- 



adverb remain fairly evident, as in brush off, brush out, burn 
down, . . . hang up, leak out, . . . tack down." Evidently, as 
Dr. Kennedy observes, " this last group of combinations shades off 
so imperceptibly into the great mass of adverbial modifications 
such as fly away, walk south, go home, etc., that it would be a 
hopeless undertaking to attempt to classify every verb-adverb 
combination as either close enough to be termed a verb-adverb 
compound, or loose enough to be called merely an adverbial 
modification." . . 

That Dr. Kennedy has taken a sound grammatical view of his 
subject is made clear in the preceding paragraph. As a good 
workman he next advances from broad outlines to the determina- 
tion of reasonable and effective limits for his immediate purpose. 
Accordingly he restricts "the material for the present study" to 
" combinations formed with the sixteen prepositional-adverbs about, 
across, around (or round), at, by, down, for, in, off, on, out, over, 
thru, to, up, with." Moreover, there shall be no "thorogoing 
attempt to classify verb-adverb combinations as either acceptable 
English or as colloquial and slang," that is, to pronounce upon 
the " social status of each combination and usage." 

The " Theory and History " of these combinations is the title of 
a section (pp. 11-18) that is suggestive but avowedly inconclusive 
as to both topics. Occurrences of the combination are reported for 
the early periods of the language (from Anglo-Saxon to Early 
Modern English), and hints are given of what the historian of the 
usage must consider. There has been a dying off of verbal com- 
pounds, and an "inrush of a multitude of Eomanic verbs with 
inseparable prefixes" (p. 12), "which drove out the native com- 
pounds and for a time made the newer combination unnecessary " 
(p. 13) ; and to be reckoned with are the subtle manifestations of 
changes in the habitual fashion of native expression, the fashion or 
mood traceable in a growing preference for the figurative expression, 
for what is liberal rather than restrained, practical even plebean 
rather than stiff and pedantic. The allurements of the subject in 
its historic aspects are strong, but Dr. Kennedy resists them, for 
he has in mind to be immediately and practically helpful to the 
teachers of rhetoric and composition, and to all who are intelli- 
gently caring for good English. 

On the practical side of his subject Dr. Kennedy has proved 
himself to be well-poised in judgment. He has succeeded admirably 
in upholding the effective use of the ' combinations/ and in discern- 
ing in them the reflection of the most vital processes of usage ; and 
he has equally well administered the needed caution against 
ignorant complacency, misdirected approval, and that abuse of the 
usage which is indicative of bad taste. A collation of several of 
the practical observations made under these heads will show that 
Dr. Kennedv has a clear perception of the right doctrine to be 
enforced. The ' compound J tends to become fixed in a figurative 
value and as " a linguistic fossil " (p. 14) is marked off from the 


live ' combination/ which represents a process of formation that is 
actively maintained in every grade of usage, from slang to poetry. 
It is observed that " most speakers and writers who are attempting 
to effect contact with the poorly trained speaker of English will 
show numerous verb-abverb combinations of a colloquial or slangy 
character" (p. 17). Now two prominent objections stand out 
against an excessive use of 'combinations/ It is a mark of bad 
taste, perhaps of restricted power of expression, and often an indi- 
cation of mental inertia, of laziness, to be limited by the exclusive 
use of, for example, the combination to give in in the figurative 
sense expressed by the neglected words ' submit, yield ' ; or to say 
habitually give out, neglecting the use of 'fail/ The second 
objection which is less formidable than the first, relates to the 
faulty logic of the redundant use of the prepositional-adverbs ; 
"yet such redundancies as low down, fill up, hatch out, have 
become so well entrenched in the language that one scarcely thinks 
it possible to use them otherwise" (p. 18). The purist may object 
to many combinations on the ground that the particle adds nothing 
to the meaning, but Dr. Kennedy believes " that the speaker almost 
always feels a nice distinction even tho his sense of the logical 
tells him that the particle should be quite unnecessary. The particle 
has been added in the first place to give emphasis, or perhaps to 
round out the speech-rhythm by the interpolation of a syllable ; but 
once having done this, we proceed to acquire a feeling that the 
simple verb can not express quite what the compound does. So we 
say, for example, add up, . . . bow down, . . . deal out, fold up, 
hatch out, . . . pile up, . . . taper off, wake up," etc. (p. 28). 
Another group of verb-adverb combinations is accredited by long 
use to " special contexts." Thus, " lid in, according to Webster, 
implies that the present owner buys back his own property at 
auction ; bind out usually applies to apprenticing ; ... we call up 
usually by telephone; one crams up for an examination; . . . 
kick off is a football term; ... we still feel that offer up is 
suggestive of sacrifice" (p. 28). 

Dr. Kennedy has collected a larger number of these combinations 
than he finds it ' practicable ' to publish. He sees that he is dealing 
with " a changing, growing tendency in language which throws up 
overnight, as it were, new combinations, and new meanings, so 
that an absolute and complete list would be impossible" (p. 5). 
What he has therefore undertaken is a deduction from his exten- 
sive material, a consideration of selected groups of examples from 
which to reason out the linguistic principles of the usage. His 
modest hope is that his study " may prove suggestive to the average 
speaker of English and may even lead some to a more thoughtful 
use of these combinations" (p. 6). But many a serious and even 
technical student of the language will be ready to confess that Dr. 
Kennedy has led him to see in this subject principles of unsus- 
pected importance. 

How the selected prepositional-adverbs ' combine ' in present day 


usage is shown in a section that gives an insight into the problem. 
This is offered as a general statement, that in ' combination ' the 
particle may keep its independent meaning unchanged; or it may 
take on a meaning not associated with it when used separately ; or 
it may be " so merged with the verb that it seems no longer to 
have an independent value " (p. 19). Thus, one distinguishes the 
literal use of out in combinations like hand out, spread out, from 
the more figurative use in carry out, ' complete/ and from the third 
use in make out, 'comprehend/ give out, 'fail/ try out, 'make a 
trial of/ in which the verb and the particle are fused to express a 
meaning not obviously suggested by either. This three-fold division 
of course merely marks the high-points of difference in long series 
of overlapping meanings. The prepositional-adverbs considered in 
this chapter with respect to their values as ' combining ' particles 
vary greatly in frequency of combination. The particle up is the 
most frequent, and has the widest " range of meanings in combina- 
tion/' Next in frequency is the particle out, which however enters 
into less than half as many combinations. The remaining particles 
of the list fall far below these two in frequency. This supremacy of 
up and out points significantly to a characteristic aspect of creative 
and figurative tendencies in the usage. 

Four general categories of ' syntactical effects of combination ' 
are pointed out (pp. 26-27) : (1) an intransitive verb may be a 
member of a transitive combination, as in come by, 'acquire'; (2) 
conversely an intransitive combination may result from the associa- 
tion of the particle with a transitive verb, as in cheer up, get about; 
(3) the combination may require a different object from that of 
the simple verb, as shown by contrasting ' argue a case ' with ' argue 
down an opponent ' ; (4) some combinations have the " significance 
or connotation of a passive verb/' thus, " a piece of cloth will make 
up nicely, ... a plan works out well/' Dr. Kennedy has here 
suggested a grammatical subject, abounding in fine distinctions, 
that would reward a more complete investigation. So too under 
the heading " Peculiarities of Combination " there are problems in 
grammar and rhetoric introduced to the student of the language 
in an admirable and striking manner. The word ' introduced ' is 
to enter the charge of a deficiency against the school-manuals. 
Deep lessons relating to the inherent character of the language are 
to be learned by considering the laws of sentence-stress and the 
rhythmic principles involved in the use of these combinations, and 
by observing in them the relation of native to non-Teutonic words. 

It is the last of the suggested problems that is the most pro- 
foundly important. Some of the easily observed facts that have a 
deep historical and linguistically philosophic meaning are described 
and illustrated by Dr. Kennedy. He observes that the average 
speaker finds it easier to say keep on than always to have in mind 
for ready use the foreign equivalent continue; so with put out and 
extinguish; use up and exhaust. And then a list is added which 
includes get on, ' prosper ' ; let down, ' relax ' ; pull out, ' depart/ 


with the observation that these combinations represent the usage 
of the indifferent speaker, in distinction from the " average man 
of fairly good education," who will usually employ the simple 
verbs. As to the speaker, however, a further distinction is to be 
made : " Many a college professor or other public speaker uses th,e 
combination in his ordinary conversation, and even in lecturing, 
but shifts to a more formal, less colloquial, vocabulary the moment 
he begins to write" (p. 39). Dr. Kennedy will not be misunder- 
stood at this point, for he has properly insisted on the legitimate 
use of combinations and on the significant fact that this usage 
represents a vital and creative force in the language. 

The legitimate vitality of this combining-process invites the 
attention of the historic and philosophic grammarian. He will, of 
course, not overlook the subtleties involved in distinguishing a true 
verbal compound from a merely syntactical combination of ' par- 
ticle' and verb, an aspect of the subject that for German has 
been well discussed by Professor von Jagemann (MLN, v, 1 ff., 
1890) ; but he will be more attentive to that other aspect of the 
problem which for English has a special importance that is not 
easily over-estimated. This concerns the peculiar facts and conse- 
quences of the history of the language since the Norman Conquest. 

In adopting Romanic elements the language has maintained, with 
temporary compromises, the essentials of its Germanic character. 
This is shown in a striking manner in the accentuation of substan- 
tive and verbal compounds. The native prefixes had become an 
impoverished category when English was vastly enriched by the 
varied list brought in from Romanic sources. Pairs of compounds 
like abstract : abstract, subject : subject, etc., represent not only 
the reenforcement of the vocabulary by words compounded with 
significant prefixes, but also the perpetuation of native principles 
of word-accentuation. This observation brings one close to a view 
of the particular influences to be considered in the development of 
the use of ' combinations ' as here designated. Aside from its 
influence and aid in the expansion and articulation of thought, a 
subject that remains to be competently studied, the foreign 
vocpbulary has doubled the means of expression, resulting in two 
types of style, of which the one may be symbolized by the exclusive 
use of forms like get round, the other by the preferred use of forms 
like circumvent. The infinite degrees of the blending of these 
extreme styles contribute to the unmatched resourcefulness of the 
language. The point to be observed in this connection is however 
this, that no variety of the polysyllabic style, however ' Johnsonian ' 
it may be, totally obscures the fact that the foreign ' compounds ' 
have not overcome but have, on the contrary, greatly stimulated 
the continuous formation and the increasing use of the synonomous 
' combinations ' of native elements, which conserve the native 
sentence-stress and protect the monosyllabic character of the 
language against an excess in yielding to the foreign pattern. 

j. w. B. 



VOLUME xxxvi MAY, 1921 NUMBER 5 


Descartes 2 used the striking paradox of applying the term of 
ancients to the moderns and of calling those who lived earlier 
younger than those who are their descendants. To this conception 
Fontenelle 3 and Perrault * added the figure of comparing human- 
ity to a single individual whose mind becomes more mature as time 
goes on, more capable, and more intelligent. It is the purpose of 
this study to outline briefly the sources and development of this 
notion of human progress as it is expressed by Fontenelle. The 
idea was to be encountered on every side among scholars. For this 
reason no single source could be assigned to Fontenelle's concep- 
tion; and yet some of its elements may have come to him from 

Even in Biblical times the idea of progress seems to have existed ' 
and although the Bible expresses rather an ancient belief in the 
decadence of the world, yet there is to be found in the scriptures 
some evidence of the opposite idea of progress. Although the domi- 

1 This study was undertaken at the suggestion of Professor E. P. Dargan 
of the University of Chicago. The author is indebted to him for much 
valuable criticism. 

2 See note 23 below. 

8 Digression swr les Anoiens et les Modernes, CEuvres, iv. Edition of 
Libraires associes, Paris, 1764. 

4 ParalUle des Anciens et des Modernes. Cf. Hippolyte Eigault, His* 
tovre de la, querelle des Anciens et des Modernes. QParis, 1856, 179 ff. 

8 Cf . J. Delvaille, Essai sur I'histoire de Videe de progres jusqu'd. la fin 
du ZVIIIe siecle, Paris, 1911, Book I. 



nant note among Classical writers is one of regret for the better 
days of the Golden Age or of complaint at the degeneracy of the 
present, yet Lucretius' fifth book of the De rerum naturae contains 
a remarkable description of the development and progress of the 
human intelligence and Cicero/ Seneca, 7 and Ovid 8 all gave some 
expression to the idea of progress. Saint Augustine also stated his 
belief in human advancement. 9 In the Middle Ages, when there 
was an all-pervading sense of the authority of the ancients, both 
Christian and pagan, there may be found expressions of the belief 
that the present age is more advanced than any previous era because 
of the accumulation of experience and knowledge by which the liv- 
ing may profit to carry on the development of human intelligence. 10 
In the period of the Renaissance the same notion is held by Henri 
Estienne, 11 Bernard Pallissy, 12 Joachim du Bellay, 13 and Ronsard. 14 
In 1620 Francis Bacon published his Novum Organum, in -which 
is to be found a complete statement of the Moderns' point of view. 
It is perhaps to him in large part that Pascal and the Cartesian 
philosophers, and later, though indirectly, Fontenelle and Perrault 
owed their ideas in regard to human progress. 15 Bacon writes as 
follows : 

" The opinion which men cherish of antiquity is altogether idle, and 
scarcely accords with the term. For the old age and increasing years of 

6 De finibus, I, 1-4. 

7 90th Epistle and Natural Questions, vii. 

8 Ars amatoria, in, 121 ff. 

8 Civitas Dei, x, 14; De diversis quaestvonibus, I, Ixxxiii, 58; De Genesi 
contra Manichaeos, I, 23. 

10 See John of Salisbury, Metalogicus, in, 4, Migne, Pat. lat., cxcix, 
900; Peter of Blois, Pat. lat., ccvn, 290; Chrestien de Troyes, Cliges, ed. 
Wendelin Foerster, Halle, 1884, 30-39; Henri d'Andeli, La Bataille des VII 
arts, pub. by Jubinal in 1875 in his edition of the works of Rustebeuf 
vol. m, Additions) ; Roger Bacon, Opus majus, ed. by J. H. Bridges, 3 
vol. Oxford, 1897-1900, i, 6, 13 ff. 

11 Apologie pour Herodote, ed. Ristelhuber, 1879, n, xxvri, 118. 

12 (Euvres, I: Au lecteur, 8 ed. France, Paris, 1880. 

18 Defense, etc., ed. Chamard, 1904, 115, 116, 118, 131, 133. 

14 Art poetique, ed. Blanchemain, vii, 336. 

15 Professor George Sherburn calls my attention to a study of Bacon's 
influence on, theories of progress in England by R. F. Jones entitled The 
Background of the " Battle of the Books," Washington University Studies, 
vn, Humanistic Series, No. 2 (1920), 97-162. 


the world should in reality be considered as antiquity, and this is rather 
the character of our own times than of the less advanced age of the world 
in those of the ancients; for the latter, with respect to ourselves, are 
ancient and elder, with respect to the world modern and younger. And as 
we expect a greater knowledge of 'human affairs, and more mature judg- 
ment from an old man than from a youth, on account of his experience, 
and the variety and number of things he has seen, heard and meditated 
upon, so we have reason to expect much greater things of our own age 
(if it knew tout its strength and would essay to exert it) than from 
antiquity, since the world has grown older and its stock has been increased 
and accumulated with an infinite numiber of experiments and observations. 
. . . {Reverence for antiquity has been a retarding force in science." 19 

Joseph Texte states 17 that almost all of Bacon had penetrated 
into France before 1700. Probably his works were known to a 
number of scholars and writers in the seventeenth century. His 
essays were translated by Jean Baudoin in 1611. Texte refers to 
the list of translations given by Charles Adam (Philosophic de 
Francis Bacon), adding to that list the translation by le sieur 
Golofer in 1632 of the De augmentis scientiarum. Lanson (Manuel 
tibliographique) lists four translations of Bacon in the seventeenth 
century (two of the Novum Organum: No. 4042-45). Pierre Bayle, 
in the Dictionnaire. says that Bacon was " un des plus grands 
Esprits de son siecle " ; adding : " Le public rec,ut f avorablement ses 
Ouvrages. Le Traite de Augmentis Scientiarum . . . fut rimprime 
a Paris Fan 1624." Bayle refers to Baillet's Vie de Descartes 
(1690), vol. i, and to Gassendi, Opera (1658), I, 62 where Gas- 
sendi analyses the famous Organum. Bayle cites a letter from 
Costar to Voiture : " J'ai lu depuis quelques mois le livre que le 
chancelier Bacon a fait du Progres des sciences ou j'ai trouve 
beaucoup de choses admirables " (Entretiens de Voiture et de Cos- 
tar, ed. Paris, 1654, 173). It was, says Bayle, one of the books 
that Costar used most. Voiture replied to this letter of Costar: 
" J'ai trouve parf aitement beau tout ce que vous me mandez de 
Bacon " ((Euvres, 11, 109). Sorel, whose Science universelle was 
published in 1647 and his Perfection de I'homme in 1655, was, 
according to Gillot, 18 a disciple of Bacon. Bacon's Logic was 

18 Edition of Joseph Dewey, 1904, I, 84. 

" Jean Jacques Rousseait et les origines du cosmopolitisme litteralre en 
France, Paris, 1895, 8. 
18 Op. cit., 296. 


reviewed in the Journal des Savans on the eighth of March, 1666, 
and in the Nouvelles de la Eepublique des lettres in June, 1684. 

In the passage cited from Bacon occurs the comparison of the 
life of the world to that of a single man. This figure was not 
original, however, with Francis Bacon. According to H. 0. Tay- 
lor, 19 the metaphor is to be found in more than one of the Latin 
classics and in patristic and mediaeval writers. The latter took it 
from St. Paul (Romans, xn, 415), who speaks of many members 
in one body, one body in Christ. The likeness of the human body 
to the body politic or ecclesiastic was carried out in every imagin- 
able detail and used acutely or absurdly by politicians and school- 
men from the eleventh century onward. The earliest use of the 
simile in terms similar to those of Bacon is probably to be found in 
Saint Augustine's City of God (x, 14) : " The education of the 
human race, represented by the people of God, has advanced, like 
that of an individual, through certain epochs, or, as it were, ages, 
so that it might gradually rise from earthly to heavenly things." 

Eeturning to the seventeenth century, we can mention at least 
seven authors in France who used this figure before Fontenelle. 
Early in January, 1636, Guillaume Colletet outlined in his dis- 
course, Pour estre eloquent, il faut imiter les Anciens, et qu'en les 
imitant on les peut surpasser, the theory of human perfectibility 
and expressed Bacon's comparison clearly. 20 In the same year, in 
his Preface des Nouvelles Conjectures sur la digestion, published 
at Paris, 21 Cureau de la Chambre wrote: "Nous sommes dans la 
vieillesse du Monde et de la Philosophic ; ce que Ton appelle Anti- 
quite' en a este 1'Enfance et la Jeunesse." Blaise Pascal used the 
same figure in his Preface sur le Traite du vide, probably written 
between 1647 and 1651. 22 We find Bacon's ideal expressed again 

19 The Mediaeval Mind, 2 vols., London 1 , 1914, i, 86. 

"See A. Michiels, Histoire des idees litteraires au XIXe siecle*, 1863, 
2 vol., Paris, I, 41 ff. MicMels states (p. 54) that Arnauld, Nicole, Ter- 
rasson, and all the Cartesians proclaimed human perfectibility. 

n Cited by Adam, Etudes sur les principaua philosophes, Paris, 1903, 
218 and by Bnmschvicg et Boutroux, GEuvres de Blaise Pascal, Paris, 1908, 
n, 141, note. 

33 Leon Brunschvicg et Pierre Boutroux, Blaise Pascal: CEuvres n, 129 ff. : 
XVHI Fragment de Preface etc., date pr6sum6e Octobre, Novembre 1647. 
Premier recueil Guerrier XXX apud Faugere, Pensees, Fragments, et Let- 
ires, 1844, I, 91. ffhe preface was not published until 1779, when it ap- 
peared in Bossuet's Pascal: (Euvres under the title of De Vautonte en 
matvere de philosophic. 


in a fragment of a manuscript of Descartes cited by Ms biographer 
Baillet : 23 Cartesian scholars in general, according to Gillot, 2 * who 
bases his statement on Jacques Kohault, Traite de Physique, 1671, 
considered antiquity as the youth of time. Malebranche wrote in 
similar terms : 2B " La raison veut, . . . que nous les (Aristotle and 
Plato) jugions plus ignorants que les nouveaux philosophes, puis- 
que, dans le temps ou nous vivons, le monde est plus vieux de deux 
mille ans, et qu'il a plus d'experience." La Mothe Le Yayer 
(1583-1672) : 28 "les autres soutiennent que les anciens ayant 6t6 
dans la jeunesse du monde, s'il y en a, c*est ceux qui vivent au- 
jourd'hui, lesquels sont v6ritablement les anciens, et qui doivent, 
par consequant, Itre les plus considerables/' As early as 1683, in 
the Dialogues des Moris, Fontenelle had allied himself with the 
Moderns. He very cleverly allows Socrates to persuade Montaigne 
that Nature has remained constant and creates as fine men as ever." 
Herve explains to Erasistratus the modern discoveries in regard to 
the circulation of the blood. It is in the Digression sur les Anciens 
et les Modernes, however, that Fontenelle really throws himself into 
the conflict. 28 His manner of treating the subject there is very 
similar to that of Pascal. So much so that Havet was led to ask ** 
whether Fontenelle had seen the unpublished manuscript of the 
Fragment d'une preface du traite sur le vide. It has been generally 
agreed, however, that Fontenelle did not know Pascal's work but 
that he got his ideas from the Cartesian philosophers. 80 

The present writer, on the contrary, would answer Havetfs ques- 
tion in the affirmative. Fontenelle's comparisons are so strikingly 
like those of Pascal that it seems necessary to assume that Fonte- 
nelle saw either the manuscript or a copy of the manuscript of the 
Fragment d'une preface du traite sur le vide. 

M Baillet, Vie de Descartes, Paris, 1690, vm, 10. Cited by Hippoiyte 
Rigault, La Querelle des Anciens et des Modernes, Paris, 1856, 51. 

"Op. cit., 391. 

23 Recherche de la Verite, ed. Francisque Bouillier, 1880, n, 2, 5, 251. 

28 Quatre dialogues faits A limitation des anciens, par Oratius Tubero, 
2 vols., Francfort, 1506 (false date), n, 218. Cited by Rigault, op. cit., 51. 

" CEuvres i, Dialogue m, 43. Edition of Libraires associgs, Paris, 1764. 

28 (Ewvres iv. 

29 Ernest Havet, Pensees de Pascal", 1866, 266, note 1. 

30 See Rigault, op. cit., 53, note 2; Brunschvicg et Boutroux, op. cit., n, 
140, note; Delvaille, op. cit., 224. 


Upon analyzing the passages of the Digression and the Frag- 
ment d'une preface that present textual similarities there is to be 
found an identity in six different elements as follows: (1) the 
comparison of all humanity to a single man; (2) the division of 
the life of humanity into different ages as we are accustomed to 
divide an individual's life into the ages of youth and maturity; 
(3) the idea that the ancients were beginners and subject to the 
errors of the beginners; (4) the comparison of men to animals; 
(5) the ironical allusion to the crime of presuming to surpass the 
ancients; and (6) the idea of the debt of the moderns toward the 
ancients who have raised them to a certain height already. 

Fragment, 139: " toute la suite Digression, 189: " Un bon esprit 

des homines, pendant le cours de cultive" est, pour ainsi dire compost 

tant de sieeles, doit estre conside'ree de tons les esprits des siecles pr- 

comme un miesme homme qui sub- cedens; ce n'est qu'un m6me esprit 

siste toujours et qui apprend con- qui s'est cultive" pendant tout ce 

tinuellement. " temps la. Ainsi cet homme qui a 

P. 141 : " cet homme universel vecu depuis le commencement du 

. . . ." monde. . . ." 

Pascal (139) divides the life of man as a whole into its youth 
and its old age, placing the ancients in the infancy of humanity. 
Fontenelle (189) speaks of the infancy, youth, and age of virility 
of humanity considered as a single individual but maintains that 
there will never be any old age. 

Pascal (141) and Fontenelle (177) both consider the ancients 
as beginners who made many mistakes. Pascal enumerates several 
mistakes that they made in the realm of .science. Fontenelle states 
in general terms that the ancients have committed most of the 
errors that needed to be made before it was possible to attain 
scientific truth. 

Fragment, 137: " N'est-ce pas 13. Digression, 178: "Pour ne faire 
traiter indignement la raison de que les egaler, il faudroit que nous 
1'homme, et la mettre en parallele fussions d'une nature fort inferieure 
avec 1'instinct des animaux! " a la leur; il faudroit que nous ne 

fussions pas honrmes aussi bien 


Fragment, 137: "On faict un Digresion, 197: "II faut que ce 

crime de les contredire et un atten- soit un crime qui ne puisse etre 
tat d'y adjouster," pardonne"." 


Fragment, 136: " les premieres Digression, 177: "On a dejil 1'es- 

cognoissances qu'ils nous ont don- prit eclaire" par ces memes decou- 

nees ont servy de degr6s aux nostres, vertes que 1'on a devant les yeux; 

et . . . dans ces advantages nous nous avons des vues empruntees 

leur sommes redevables de 1'ascen- d'autrui qui s'ajoutent a celle que 

dant que nous avons sur eux; . . . nous avons de nostre fonds; et si 

Notre veue a plus d'estendue . . . nous surpassions le premier inven- 

et nous voyons plus qu'eux." teur, c'est lui qui nous a aids SL le 


The probability that Fontenelle knew Pascal's unpublished 
manuscript is increased by another striking parallel to be found 
between a passage in the same fragment of Pascal and one in 
Fontenelle's essay Sur la poesie en general where the instinct of 
beasts is compared to the intelligence of man and in both cases the 
work of the bee in constructing its hives is taken as the example 
of animal instinct working with great skill but with the same ability 
each time whereas man is able to develop his powers of artistic 
construction by intelligence and experience. 31 

The possibility that Fontenelle could have seen the manuscript 
of Pascal's Fragment d'une preface is far from remote. The 
papers left by Pascal were seen and studied by Arnauld, Nicole, 32 
de Roannez, 33 Leibnitz, 34 and others. Malebranche, 35 who was a 
friend of both Leibnitz and Fontenelle, may have been the inter- 
mediary through whom the latter became acquainted with Pascal's 
work. Fontenelle was, as is well known, the purveyor of ideas from 
one set of scientists to another. In his Preface de I'Histoire de 
L'Academie des Sciences he tells us of the groups of scholars who 
were drawn together by the need of communicating their ideas to 
one another. 

With all this intercourse among a small body of scientists, and 
with the tendency to communicate by writing as well any new ideas 
that came to them, it is probable that Pascal's Preface was known 
in manuscript form to some of the scholars of the time. There is 
no reason to doubt the possibility that Fontenelle could have gained 

31 Fragment, 138 and Sur la poesie etc. (CEuvres, vm, 310) ; cf. Delvaille, 
op. cit., 215, n. 2. 

32 Cf. Prosper Faugere, Pensees, Fragments et lettres de Blaise Pascal, 
Paris, 1844, I, xrv. 

33 1 bid., xin ; cf. also xv and n. 4. 

34 Cf. Nourrisson, la Philosophic de Leibnitz, Paris, 1860, p. 70. 

Ibid., pp. 20 ff. and A. LabordenMilaa, Fontenelle, Paris, 1905, p. 24. 


possession of the contents of this work of Pascal; and it seems 
probable from the evidence of the texts that Pascal's Fragment 
d'une Preface was known to the author of the Digression sur les 
Anciens et les Modernes. 


Dartmouth College. 


Sainte-Beuve declara deja en 1829 que revenir sur La Fontaine 
apres Chamfort, La Harpe et Walkenaer, c'est se condamner a ne 
rien dire de bien nouveau pour le fond. Le grand critique a su 
refuter lui-mgme ces paroles, puisque Petude ou elles se trouvent, 
savait frayer un chemin nouveau en revelant la nature de la fable 
lafontainienne. Neanmoins nous avons aujourd'hui toutes les rai- 
sons possibles d'y souscrire. Car depuis, a partir de 1'an 1860, 
la gloire du poete est renee a une vie nouvelle et plus brillante 
qu'auparavant. C'est vers ce temps qu'ont paru coup sur coup le 
chapitre de Nisard, chef-d'oeuvre d'eloge mondain, puis le cours 
de Vinet fait autrefois a 1'universite de Lausanne et designant au 
penseur la place qu'on lui accordera de nos jours, et surtout la 
these remaniee de Taine, alors jeune, mais deja artiste accompli en 
fait d'analyses puissantes at hardies, fougueux constructeur de sys- 
temes, douS d'une force de logique imperieuse et d'une imagination 
non moins debordante et arbitraire que celle des grands illustrateurs 
de La Fontaine, Grandville, Dore ou Moreau; finalement les deux 
tomes de Saint-Marc-Girardin, cours fait a la Sorbonne, s'occupant 
surtout du moraliste et cherchant a encadrer le fabuliste dans 1'his- 
toire du genre. Us furent suivis en 1885 par Faguet, qui a donne" 
outre un volume ingenieux servant d'introduction pour la jeunesse, 
une 6tude exquise sur le causeur, le poet et 1'artiste. En 1895, 

1 Sous ce titre modeste M. Jules Haraszti, professeur a 1'universit^ de 
Budapest, connu pour ses travaux sur la litte"rature frangaise (Schelandre, 
Che'nier, Rostand etc.) d6sire publier un volume d'etudes sur La Fontaine 
a 1'occasion du centenaire. L'ouvrage contient les chapitres suivants: In 
Memoriam (le volume est d^die" a la mgmoire du fils de 1'auteur). Intro- 
duction. Principes d'art d'un classique irrtigulier. Proceds d'art d'un 
poete causeur. Un Rousseau avant la lettre. Le poete lyrique. L'artiste 
psychologue. L'artiste peintre. Conclusions. On publie ici line partie de 
I' Introduction et quelques pages tiroes des Conclusions. 


deux ans apres Fachevement de Fedition des (Euvres Completes due 
a Eegnier ( 1883-93 ), 2 M. G. Lafenestre a publi6 un livre elegant, 
destine a la fois aux gens du monde et aux lettre's. II y a offert 
un tableau d'ensemble traitant pour la premiere fois non seulement 
le fabuliste, mais toute la carriere, tous les ouvrages du poete, grace 
a des etudes serieuses faites par un amateur tres distingue. 

M. Eochambeau repe"tera par consequent avec bien plus de droit 
en 1911 ce qu'avait dit en 1829 Sainte-Beuve : "Quand on con- 
sidere le nombre d'ouvrages consacre's au seul La Fontaine, il 
semble qu'il n'y ait grand'chose a en dire." Mais le savant biblio- 
graphe ne manquera pas d'y ajouter ce correctif: "Tous les ans 
cependant quelque nouvelle etude se fait jour, tous les ans quelque 
nouveau point de vue est mis en valeur et le sujet parait ine'pui- 
sable." II doit FStre en effet, puisque Fan 1913 verra paraitre 
coup sur coup les trois principaux ouvrages de la litte'rature laf on- 
tainiste. J'entends la tres savante biographic ecrite par M. Roche 
qui, ayant fouille toutes les archives, complete et rectifie si heu- 
reusement les recherches de Mesnard, en achevant de de'truire les 
legendes, puis les conferences ou Faguet reprenant sous une forme 
spirituelle le fond tres estimable d'un cours fait a la Sorbonne en 
1897 (public et reste enfoui dans la Revue des Cours et Confe- 
rences) a realise une des grandes ambitions de sa vie, celle de faire 
voir dans son eclat La Fontaine comme poete, finalement la mono- 
graphic en deux tomes de M. Michaut. Celle-ci est a Fheure qu'il 
est le dernier mot de Ferudition et de la critique litt^raire. Elle a 
inaugure la methode scientifique dans la litterature lafontainiste. 
Elle a tache surtout de faire ressortir Involution du talent du 
poete, evolution indiquee jadis par Sainte-Beuve, mais trop sou- 
vent negligee, quoique E. Scherer ait tache lui aussi d'y attirer 
Fattention de la critique. . . . 

Done ce qui importe avant tout c'est de prouver que tout n'a 
pas ete encore dit et que Fon ne vient pas trop tard pour parler 
de La Fontaine. Quant a moi je suis convaincu qu'elles peuvent 
bien etre appliquees a lui-m^me, ses paroles relatives a la fable en 
general : 

a Cette Edition a 6t6 pr6o6de par celles fondles toutes sur des recherches 
trfcs m6ritoires et dues a Walkenaer (1819-27, ensuite deux fois remaniee), 
a Marty-Laveaux (1857-77), a Moland (1852-66, remanie'e en 1872-6), ft 
Pauly (1875-91) etc. 


Ce cliamp ne se pent tellement moissonner, 
Que les derniers venus n'y trouvent a glaner. 3 

J'aurai 1'occasion au cours de mon travail d'indiquer bien des 
cotes du poete, qui meriteraient des etudes particulieres et auxquels 
on n'a fait que toucher tout au plus. Pour ma part, je me suis 
borne a mettre en lumiere certains points encore non assez mis en 
relief dans ses theories litteraires et dans ses precedes d'art; j'ai 
donne des vues d'ensemble plus completes qu'on n'en trouve ailleurs 
sur sa poesie elegiaque et sur son art descriptif . On n'a pas encore 
eclaire non plus d'aussi pres que je le fais, 1'artiste psychologue et 
son penchant a analyser les etats d'ame. Je n'ai ose parler a mon 
tour de ses idees que parce que je les envisage sous un point de 
vue en peu different de celui generalement accepte. J'ai ajoute 
sous forme de conclusion une revue des rapports de La Fontaine 
avec ses predecesseurs et ses contemporains. 

A entendre Vinet, on dirait que " jamais le XVII e siecle, si noble 
dans son elegance, si splendide dans son decorum, n'eut pu produire 
cet ecrivain si simple, si candide. si epris de 1'antiquite, si antique 
lui-meme, oui, La Fontaine est inattendu au XVII 6 siecle/' 
Brunetiere qui n'a pas manque d'ailleurs de toucher a la conf ormite 
de 1'ideal d'art de La Fontaine avec " celui de ses illustres contem- 
porains/' excuse entre les lignes la fagon de voir de son maitre en 
critique, en plaidant les circonstances attenuantes. D'apres lui. La 
Fontaine semble en effet "faire exception au XVII e siecle, il y 
semble etre comme en dehors, comme en marge des grands courants 
de son temps." M. Doumic insiste a son tour sur les differences qui 
separent La Fontaine de son temps, telles que la fantaisie capri- 
cieuse, ailee et legere, peu connue a " ce siecle de raison severe," 
et le lyrisme subjectif rare dans " ce siecle de litterature imperson- 
nelle, incapable de lyrisme/' 

Faguet fait semblant de marcher lui aussi sur les traces de Vinet 

' Fable III. 1. Je remarque une fois pour toutes que dans mes cita- 
tions ce n'est pas la nume'rotation de 1'Mition Regnier que je suivrai, 
mais celle des autres ou le premier Discours a Mme de la Sablidre ouvre 
le livre X., et ou dans le livre XII. le Soleil et les grenouilles, la Ligue 
des rats, Daphnis et Alcimadure, le Juge a/rbitre, portent les nume'ros 24-27. 
II s'entend fcien h6las, qiie la litte"rature lafontainiste a dfl se clore pour 
mod avec les deux tomes de M. Michaut. Je viens d'apprendre qu'il a public" 
depuis dans la Revue d'histovre litteraire da la France (1916) un article 
intitule" " Travaux recents sur La Fontaine." 


lorsqu'il dit : 4 " Plus on le lit, plus on voit bien qu'il ne ressemble 
decidement a personne. . . . Nous le rencontrons toutes les fois 
que nous avons une idee generale sur son temps, pour la refuter. 
. . . Toute histoire systematique de la litterature frangaise au 
XVII e siecle doit eliminer La Fontaine, coupable de contrarier tous 
les systemes et de ne rentier dans aucun cadre." Mais ce n'est 
de la part de Faguet qu'un pretexte spirituel pour insister sur cer- 
tains cotes personnels du poete " sortant du gout de Louis XIV et 
en dehors de ce gout." II se hate d'ajouter : " Get homme qui ne 
repond a rien dans le XVII 6 siecle, a ete adore par ses contempo- 
rains, il n'est peut-etre pas d'homme en son temps qui ait ete plus 
goute." Comment expliquer done cette contradiction ? " Comment 
peut-on a ce point contrarier le gout de son temps et etre goute? 
Serait-ce sur le gout du temps que nous nous trompons? II se 
pourrait bien. Serait-ce que ce temps-la a eu plusieurs gouts, 
parce qu'il avait du gout? II se pourrait encore. J'ai meme 
tendance a accepter cette solution." C'est ce qu'il faut accepter 
en effet. Car une connaissance plus etendue de son oeuvre a lui 
et de la litterature du temps finit par demontrer qu'il y entrait 
bien. II n'est plus permis de simplifier autant que Fa fait autrefois 
Vinet, ni le XVII e siecle, ni La Fontaine. Sainte-Beuve reprochait 
autrefois a La Harpe et a Chamfort d'avoir "trop detache La 
Fontaine de son siecle qui etait bien moins connu d'eux que de 
nous " ; nous pouvons renouveler aujourd'hui ces reproches en face 
de Vinet et de ses successeurs. 

Vinet se serait moins trompe d'ailleurs si, au lieu de dire XVII e 
siecle, il s'etait contente de dire epoque de Louis XIV. Car La 
Fontaine, tout en s'efforgant d'ecrire meme dans son age avance 
des odes comme Boileau pour chanter les victoires de Louis XIV, 
tout en s'essayant a la tragedie racinienne (cf. son fragment 
d'Achille), tout en aspirant a rivaliser avec Quinault des livrets 
d'opera, finalement tout en etant membre de 1'ecole realiste de 1660, 
a contine 1'epoque de Louis XIII, ce qui est d'autant plus naturel 
que ses maitres les plus immediats appartenaient a 1'epoque de 
Louis XIII. A la rigueur ils remontent meme a Henri IV, ceux 
qu'il aimait le plus, voire respectait le plus, d'Urfe et i^^.erbe, 
dont Fun lui a revele la preciosite la plus exquise, tandis que Fautre 
incarnait les essors les plus sublimes. 

4 Journal des Debats, 21 septembre 1894. 


ISepitre a Huet dira que " Malherbe avec Eacan ont emporte leur 
lyre " au ciel pour y ce!6brer Dieu " parmi les chceurs des anges." 
Ces deux poe'tes sont associ6s dans la fable m, 1, comme " deux 
rivaux d'Horace, he'ritiers de sa lyre, disciples d'Apollon, nos 
maitres." Leur association se retrouvera aussi chez Boileau et elle 
a etc" on ne peut plus ingenieusement expliquee par Faguet : " Us 
se competent en effet: Tun, graces simples et aimables; 1'autre, 
grands elans, imposantes fiertes. Us sont bien les deux maitres et 
guides de la poesie classique du XVII e siecle." "L'aimable et 
charmant Eacan, dit encore Faguet, est un La Fontaine qui balbutie 
encore." Disons a notre tour que ce poete qui ne mourra qu'en 
1670, a Page de 80 ans bien sonn6s, et qui, apres avoir et6 tant 
aime et vante par La Fontaine et compare par Boileau & Hom&re, 
jouira aupres des historiens de la litterature d'une gloire un peu 
surfaite, avait Petoffe d'un po&te elegiaque et subjectif, tout en 
s'etanit fait auteur de pastorale. Quoiqu'il ait affable ses person- 
nages en bergers et bergeres, leurs voix viennent du caiir, accusant 
la sincerite des sentiments, qui est relevee encore par une harmonie 
douce, un certain sens pittoresque y joint le sentiment de la nature : 
qualite's dont h&ritera La Fontaine. Ajoutons pour finir que dans 
une harangue prononcee par Eacan 1' Academic Frangaise en 1635 
se trouve deji quelque chose de cette haine rousseauiste de la civili- 
sation que fera entendre aussi La Fontaine; mais chez Eacan il 
s'agit de la louange naive d'un age d'or idyllique ou Favarice etait 
inconnue de mme que le luxe, les hommes jouissaient d'une sante 
perp^tuelle, la vanit6 ne s'Stait pas m16e & la science, etc. Cela n'a 
pas encore 1'aprete de la satire d'un revolt^ contre la societe, comme 
chez La Fontaine. 

Neanmoins ce n'est pas Eacan qu'il vantera de sa jeunesse jusqu'^ 
sa vieillesse comme son maitre supreme. Celui-ci s'appelle, II la 
juste surprise des lafontainistes futurs, Voiture. Oui, c*est le 
celdbre poete precieux, si choye de FHotel Eambouillet, prise aussi 
par Boileau pour " mille beaux traits." Ce Voiture, mort a Page 
de 50 ans, en 1648 lorsque La Fontaine avait 27 ans environ, ne 
cessera d'etre son idole avant tout, aux lauriers de qui il aspirera 
des sa jeunesse. Nous 1'avons vu associer Voiture a Marot. II 1'as- 
sociera Malherbe en 1689, dans sa lettre a Conti, en s'ecriant: 
"Y a-t-il au monde des Voitures et des Malherbes?" II a fait 
vanter deja a Apollon " ces deux ecrivains fameux " qui ont fray6 


aux auteurs des chemins nouveaux. Voiture est & ses yeux le grand 
maitre du style enjoue grace auquel il salt rendre gracieux et 
charmants les sujets les plus tristes. II " auroit Iou6 Proserpine et 
Pluton en un style enjoue." Done c'est le contraire le plus absolu 
du style superbe de Malherbe chantant les heros, c'est la suite de 
Marot et en m&ne temps son achevement. Apollon prie Erato de 


Non pas du arieux, du tendre, ni du doux, 1 

Mais de oe qu'en frangois on nomme bagatelle, 

Un jeu dont je voudrois Voiture pour module. 

II excelle en cet art: maitre Clement et lui 

iS'y prenoient beaucoup mieux que nos gens d'aujourdTmi. 

En 1687 (lettre a Sainte-fivremond) il avouera d'avorr profite 
dans Voiture et d'etre son disciple. Vers ce temps, s'il veut faire 
un compliment 6norme a un rimeur quelconque, il fait esp&rer & 
celui-ci de pouvoir un jour " faire descendre Voiture du p6gase " 
(fipitre a M. Galien.) A son tour il devait frtre infiniment sensible 
aux compliments qui le comparaient a Voiture. Aussi ses amis 
ne manquaient-ils pas de toucher, le cas echeant, & cette corde sen- 
sible. Boileau faisait ce rapprochement dans 1'apologie de Joconde, 
& propos des lettres de Voiture sur le brochet et la berne " dont il 
a cach6 les absurdites par 1'enjouement de ses narrations et par la 
maniere plaisante dont il dit toutes choses " : " C'est ce que M. D. 
L. F. a observe dans sa nouvelle ; il a cru que dans un conte comme 
celui de Joconde il ne falloit pas badiner se'rieusement." Saint- 
fivremond louera en 1687 sa lettre & la duchesse de Bouillon comme 
"assez galante, assez ingenieuse pour donner de la jalousie h Voiture 
s'il vivoit encore/' La Bruyere, lors de sa reception a FAcademie en 
1693, faisant 1'eloge tour ^, tour de chacun de ses plus celebres con- 
freres, ne trouvera rien de mieux pour La Fontaine que de le pro- 
clamer un auteur qui, "plus egal que Marot et plus poete que 
Voiture, a le jeu (le badinage), le tour (le style) et la naivete 1 
de tous les deux." 

Qu'est-ce qui rappelle chez La Fontaine la plume elegante de 
maitre Vincent? C'est precisement Fart de louer spirituellement, 
qui a ete une des grandes ambitions de La Fontaine, & en juger 
par la fable XII, 24, ou, a la fin de sa carriere, il se vante de posseder 

B Clymtne, 451-6. II reviendra dans ses livrets d'ope"ra & ce ton; cf. ses 
plaintee centre Lulli. 


le secret " de rendre exquis et doux " son encens a lui. D'ailleurs 
en general les reminiscences dues a Voiture ne sont pas chez lui 
trop nombreuses, ni trop considerables. Outre la ballade sur la 
ballade, faite sur commande pendant la periode Fouquet, et que La 
Fontaine lui-meme a indiquee comme faite a Pimitation du rondeau 
de Voiture sur le rondeau (imite du sonnet de Lope de Vega sur 
le sonnet), on a releve dans les Compagnons d'Ulysse 1'argumenta- 
tion scolastique, " exemplum ut talpa," comme rappelant les vers 
Pour la taupe, puis quelques concetti (antitheses et rimes), em- 
pruntes a Voiture dans I'Adonis de 1669 et repetes dans la fable 
viu, 13 : " plaisirs et mal ... a qui rien n'est egal." A propos 
de 1'ode anacreontique sur Faccouchement avant terme de Mme 
Fouquet dans le carrosse en revenant de Toulouse, on a renvoye aux 
vers " a la louange du soulier d'une dame," ou " a une demoiselle 
qui avoit les de sa chemise retroussees et sales." Voyez 
aussi ceux " sur une dame dont la jupe fut retroussee en versant 
dans un carrosse a la campagne " (vers ou le mot grossier c . . . 
si abhorre par les precieuses revient a chaque pas). 

Ajoutons encore que La Fontaine a imite une fois la maniere de 
Neuf-Germain, ce rimeur facetieux alors a la mode et plusieurs fois 
chante par Voiture. Uelegie a Philis rappelle le sonnet a Mile de 
Poussay avec sa tournure. ISepitre au Prince prie le grand capi- 
taine victorieux, Conde, de menager sa vie sur le champ de bataille : 
priere repetee par La Fontaine et adressee a Turenne. La Fon- 
taine peint puissamment le grand Conde au milieu des horreurs 
du combat; Voiture avait exalte (epitre au due d'Enghien) la mort 
hero'ique " dans le champ de Mars," et 1'avait opposee a la mort 
laide venant a pas lents surprendre dans son lit "un malade qui 

Les lettres en prose predominent dans Fceuvre de Voiture : veri- 
tables tartes a la creme consistant en badineries f utiles, en galante- 
ries subtiles et fades, sentant souvent un effort assez desobligeant, 
parfois rendues piquantes par des relations sur les evenements du 
jour, comme 1'essayera le cas echeant La Fontaine. Puis il y a 
des elegies amoureuses prolixes et conventionnelles, toutes sortes de 
vers teintes d^une volupte frivole ou meme frisant 1'obscenite 
voilee, ou par contre atteignant le comble des subtilites precieuses 
(Sonnet sur Uranie). Parfois on y trouve du pittoresque brillant. 
(Cf. le lever du soleil dans le sonnet sur Philis). Quoique tout 


cela se retrouve aussi chez La Fontaine, il n'est pas facile d'expli- 
quer 1'insistance de celui-ci a vouloir passer pour le disciple de ce 
poete. Surtout si Ton pense au portrait si magistralement dessine 
par M. Lanson : " Voiture n'a pas d'ordinaire la mievrerie ornee, 
ni la mollesse fleurie, ni Feclat peint des Italiens du XVI e siecle: 
avec un esprit qui pour nous a un accent bien national, il seme 
dans ses vers d'amour des traits d'une gravite ardente ou d'une 
raillerie ramassee; il mele parfois les deux tons avec une rapidite 
un peu brusque." (La Fontaine les mele aussi, mais sans ces brus- 
queries.) " Ou Voiture n'est pas un Frangais qui cause avec 
aisance, il etale parfois les graces italiennes, mais le plus souvent 
il a le geste plus sobre du Castillan, sa phrase plus nerveuse, ou 
Fon sent tour a tour la flamme qui brule et le sel qui pique. . . ." 6 
Done La Fontaine etait tant bien que mal Feleve de Voiture itali- 
anisant plutot que celui de 1'autre qui espagnolise, tout en etant 
surtout " un Frangais qui cause avec aisance." 

La Fontaine, qui a raille deja dans Clymene la phraseologie con- 
ventionnelle des vers galants trop spirituelle, dont il se servira 
cependant lui-meme (jeux, ris, appas, roses, lys etc.), et qui con- 
state en 1665 avec un contentement evident le regne fini des " ron- 
deaux, bouts-rimes, metamorphoses," " ces galanteries hors de 
mode," condamnera Fabus de Fesprit aussi en 1685 (EpUre a 
Girin), reprochant aux poetes de ruelles que chez eux c'est I' esprit 
qui fait tout. 1 Dans I'epUre a Huet il parlera en 1687 d'un certain 
auteur non nomme qu'il avait pris autrefois pour son maitre et 
qui " pensa le gater " jusqu'a ce qu' Horace lui eut " dessille les 
yeux." Apres avoir a tort cherche Malherbe, on cherche aujourd'hui 
Voiture dans cet auteur qui " avoit du bon, du meilleur," et chez 
qui la France " Estimoit dans ses vers le tour et la cadence," mais 
chez qui le " trop d'esprit s'epand en trop de belles choses," de sorte 
que " ses traits ont perdu quiconque Ta suivi." Je reviendrai a 
ce petit probleme d'autant moins resolu qu'il est difficile d'expliquer 
que deux ans apres cette pretendue palinodie, La Fontaine ait pu 
renouveler les louanges excessives de Voiture. 

Quelle qu'ait pu etre 1'influence de Malherbe ou de Kacan et sur- 
tout celle de Voiture sur lui, il y a quatre ou cinq poetes dans la 

8 Revue d'histoire litt. de la France, 1897. 

1 Dans Philemon et Battcis il affirmera que c'est le coeur qui fait tout, 
pomme le feront Boileau et Chgnier, eux aussi. 


premiere moitie" du XVII e siecle, qu'il n'a pas daign6 mentionner 
et qui n'en sont pas moiiis ses prScurseurs et ses maitres, j'entends 
Mathurin Regnier, Theophile de Viau, Francois Maynard, Saint- 
Amant et Tristan FHermite. Ils le sont plus que n'importe qui 
avant eux, abstraction faite de Marot et de Ronsard, voire de 
Belleau, d'ailleurs leurs maitres & eux. On a souvent indiqu6 leur 
influence sur La Fontaine, mais sans l'6clairer de plus pres. II y 
a des etudes speciales a 6crire la-dessus. La matiere n'en manque 
pas, comme je Fai fait bien voir, surtout dans les chapitres de mon 
ouvrage ou j'ai parl de la poesie lyrique et de Fart descriptif de 
La Fontaine. 




And how asseged was Ipolita, 

The faire hardy quene of Scithia; 

And of the fest that was at hir weddinge, 

[And of the tempest at hir hoom-cominge (C. T., A, 881 ff.). 

Many sources for the ' tempest ' at the home-coming of Hippolyta 
have been suggested by scholars from Tyrwhitt to Lowes. 1 But in 
every case ( tempest ' has been taken to mean storm and no storm 
has yet been found to which Chaucer may have referred. Examina- 
tion of the definitions given in Old French of the words tempest, 
respectively tempestment, tempesterie, and tempier may suggest a 
solution of the puzzle. I quote from Godef roy : 2 

Tempest, vacarne, tapage: 
Et firent parmi la foret 
Trop grant noise et trop grant tampest (Dolop. 8860). 

Tempestement, agitation, bruit, vacarme: 

II menoit ung tel tambusquis et ung tel tempestement 
quil sembloit que tous les deables d'enfer fussent la. 

(Froiss. Chron. xr, 101.) 

Tempesterie, tapage, vacarme (only meaning; two examples) : 
Je ouy, ce me semble, les sonnettes 
En la rue et tempesterie (Martial, Louanges de Marie). 

1 For a full review of the problem, see J. L. Lowes, Mod. Lang. Notes, 
xix, 240 ff. 
1 Dictionaire de I/Ancienne Langue Franeaise. 


Tempier, tapage, vacarme, tumulte (13 examples) ; 
Laiens oi moult grant tempier 
De son de harpes, de viels, 
De conconetes de puceles, etc. (DuConte de Poit, 892). 

It appears from these citations that in Old French tempest most 
commonly means ' a violent tumult or commotion, a confusion of 
noises, or intense agitation/ 

The same use of the word is found in Middle English. The 
New English Dictionary., beginning with words from the year 1315, 
offers the following definition : ' A violent commotion or disturb- 
ance; a tumult, rush; agitation, perturbation/ and adds (with 
quotations from 1746), 'A confused or tumultuous throng; a 
crowded assembly.' The following examples, in addition to those 
given in the NED., may be noted. Dan Michel 3 describes hell; 
' (?er >ou sselt y$y al (?et herte hatef> . . . ver berynde, bremston 
stinkinde, tempeste brayinde, etc/ where the author refers to the 
confused noises of the roaring fires. In Sir Beues of Hamtoun* 
where the hero fights with two lions, the tumult and clamor of 
battle is described : 

BO]J at oones }>ey gan him assaile; 
poo was B. in strong tempestes. 

And the author of the Vision of Piers Plowman 5 leaves no doubt 
as to the exact significance of the word when he tells of the tempest 
which occurred at the crucifixion of Jesus: 

]>e daye for drede with-drowe, and derke bicam )>e sonne, 

J)e wal wagged and clef, and al J>e worlde quaued; 

Ded men for that dyne come out of depe graues, 

And tolde whi J>at tempest so long dured ; 

' For a bitter bataile,' ]>e ded toodye sayde, 

' Lyf and deth in J>is derkness her fordoth her other.' 

The reference is evidently to the din, confusion, agitation, perturba- 
tion resulting from the struggle between Life and Death. 

With this meaning, then, of tumult, confusion, and noise in 
mind, we may understand the significance of Chaucer's ( tempest/ 
But of what tumult is he speaking ? He himself has suggested the 
answer in the Latin quotation prefixed to the Knight's Tale. 

3 Ayenbite of Inwyt, ed. E. Morris, EETS. 23, p. 73. 
* Ed. Kdlbing, EETS. E. S. 26, S. 117/2447. 
6 Ed. Skeat, EETS. 38, b. 18, 60 ff. 



Statins' account of the triumphant return of Theseus and his bride 
is admirably expressed in the phrase, 'the tempest at hir hoom- 
cominge ' : 

llamque domos patrias, Scythicae post aspera gentis 

Proelia, laurigero subeuntem Thesea curru 

iLaetifici plausus, missusque ad sidera uulgi 

Clamor, et emeritis hilaris tub anuntiat armis (Theb. xn, 519). 

Chaucer has two good reasons for not translating this passage 
entire. In the first place, he has a ' large feeld to ere' and his 
critical faculty tells him that it is matter which does not structurally 
belong to the Knight's Tale; and, in the second place, he has 
preserved an excellent paraphrase of it in the Anelida (7, 23-36). 


But greet harm was it, as it thoughte me, 

That on his shine a mormal hadde he (C. T., A, 385 if.) . 

It is generally agreed, I believe, that the ' mormal ' of Chaucer's 
Cook is to be identified with what mediaeval medical writers call 
malum mortuum* This disease, which is treated of under separate 
headings by most of the autHors whom I have consulted, must not 
be confused with cancer or gangrene; it is a species of ulcerated, 
dry-scabbed apostema which is produced by the corruption in the 
blood of natural melancholia, or sometimes of melancholia combined 
with sdlsum phlegma. As to the cause and appearance of the 
malady Theodoricus is explicit: 

Qusedam infirmitas nascitur circa tibias & brachia, quse malum mortuum 
appellantur. sunt enim ulcera liuida et sicca, modic6 saniei generatiua; et 
quandoge fiunt de pura melancholia naturali; quandogwe ex melancholia 
cum admistione phlegmatis salsi. Si fiat ex pura melancholia, cognoscitur 
per nigras pustulas sine pruritu. si autem admisceatur salsum phlegma, 
quasi liuescit locus cum liuescit locus cum pruritu & mordicationibus. T 

Bernardus de Gordon Chaucer's ' Bernard' (C.T., A, 434) 
gives a still fuller account: 

Indeed it is so translated in Lanf rank's Science of Cvrurgie, EBTS, 102, 
pp. 178, 293. Cf. Practlca Magistri Lanfranci de Hediolano quae dicitur 
ars completa totius chirurgice, Venetiis, 1546, f. 248c. See two descriptions 
of the 'mormal,' Mod. Lang. Notes, xxxm, 379, Trans. Conn. Acad. Arts 
and Sciences, xxm, 27. 

7 Chvrvrgia edita et compilata ao excell. domino fratre Theodorico episcopo 
Cerwensi, Venetiis, 1499, Lib. m, cap. xlix. 


Malum mortuum est quidam species scabiei que oritur ex melancholia 
natural! adusta; et adustione flegmatis salsi; cum liuore et nigredine et 
pustulis crustosis magnis fedis; sine sanie cum erugine, et quadam insensi- 
bilitate; et cum turpi aspectu, in coxis et tibijs frequentibus eueniena. 
Causa autem huius scabiei est multa comestio ciborum melancholicorum ; 
opilatio splendis, et retentio menstruorum; et linorum preter consuetu- 
dinem, et similia. 8 

And John of Gaddesden Chaucer's ' Gatesden' (C. T., A, 434) 
concludes his discussion ' De malo mortuo ' with, 

Et causantur a cibis raelancholicis sicut a carnibus bouis et piscibua 
salsis et a frigore non cito remediate et a coitu cum menstruata vel leprosa 
vel tineosa." 

I have an idea that the Cook's ' monnal ' is of the type which is 
produced f ex melancholia cum admistione phlegmatis salis' and 
that he is continually troubled with severe itching, for as Lanfrank 

Icchinge & scabbe come]) of salt humouris, & ... kynde ha]? abhomina- 
cioun J>erof, & putte}> hem out of J>e skyn, & J>is fellejj ofte of salt metis & 
schanpe metis & of wijn J>at is strong; & it iallty ofte to hem ]>at wakij) 
A traueili]? & vsi}> no baling & werij? no lynnen clojris, & )>is is oon of 
J>e siknes J>at is contagious. 10 

To understand the full meaning of malum mortuum, therefore, 
is to know rather definitely the character of Roger Hogge of Ware. 
In addition to being a filthy person of low degree, he is doubtless 
such a thrifty soul that he devours all the tainted meats and spoiled 
victuals which he cannot put off on long-suffering pilgrims. Our 
Host directly charges him with bad dealings: 

iFor many a pastee hastow laten blood, 

And many a Jack of Dover hastow sold 

That hath been twyes hoot and twyes cold (C. T., A, 4346 ff.). 

The Cook confesses good-naturedly enough that it is true, but 
remarks, ' Sooth pley, quaad pley/ No one need be surprised to 
find a man with a ' mormal ' so drunk with { wyn ape ' one of the 
causes of the malady that his eyes become dazed and his face pale. 

8 Practica dicta LiUum medicinae, Lugduni, 1491, Big. d7, vers. 1. Cf. 
also Cyrvrgia Rogerii, Venetiis, 1499, ' De malo mortuo,' f. 69, rec. 1 ; Gvy 
de Chavliac, La Grande Chirvrgie, ed. Nicaise, ' mal mort/ pp. 8, 420, 551. 

9 Rosa Anglica practica medicinae, Pavia, 1492, f. 94, rec. 1. 

10 Op cit., p. 101. 


In fact, Eoger is so drunk that his rage against the caviling 
Maunciple is speechless, and he is put in a good humor again only 
by another drink of wine (C. T., H., 25-85). He is precisely the 
kind of man one might expect to claw the Keeve on the back for 
joy of a dirty tale (A, 4326), and to begin one of his own which 
fortunately ends where we are told that the heroine ' swyved for 
hir sustenance' (A, 4422). His acquaintance with such characters 
has probably been too intimate for his own good. 

Vanderbilt University. 

Anyone who is familiar with Joseph Warton's criticism, must be 
aware that his notes to Pope's Works often bear a close resemblance 
to his Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope, which preceded 
them by many years. But probably not many people have troubled 
to collate the Essay and the notes in detail. The comparison made 
by the present writer has produced some curious results, which, 
pending publication in full, it is worth while to summarize for the 
benefit of future students. Briefly, the Essay has been cut up into 
notes, in such a way that practically none of it, not even the most 
garrulous and irrelevant afterthought, has been omitted in the 
later works. Sometimes, when a paragraph or a sentence appears 
to have been left out, it is discovered afterwards in an altogether 
different context. The parallel passages run into more than a 
hundred closely written pages, and they leave one marvelling at 
Warton's absurdly exaggerated sense of the importance of anything 
and everything that he had once written. The Essay was an 
original and daring piece of criticism, which marked the author 
out as an independent thinker, who refused to bow the head to the 
" common-sense " verdicts of his day. To venture to say in 1756 
that Pope was a great Wit, but that he was not among the greatest 
poets, " not, assuredly in the same rank with Spenser, Shakespeare 
and Milton," was to throw down a challenge to accepted opinions. 
Warton goes further. Point by point, and poem by poem, he 
proves wherein Pope's achievements and shortcomings lie. Pope is 
the poet of rationalism ; he produces nothing that is " of the most 
poetic species of poetry/' for he is deficient in the sublime and 


pathetic, which are its " main nerves " ; he writes " from and to the 
Head rather than the Heart." " A clear head and acute under- 
standing are not sufficient, alone, to make a poet " ; even more 
essential is " a creative and glowing imagination/' On the other 
hand, Warton recognizes and gives due weight to Pope's concise- 
ness and epigrammatic force, the excellence of his versification, 
and, in the Moral Epistles, his " clear, complete and circumstantial 

One is therefore ready to find Warton a discerning editor, who 
will have much that is valuable to contribute by way of comment 
and elucidation. In a sense, this is the case, for the Essay is to a 
considerable extent a detailed examination of the text of Pope's 
poems, combined with much information from hitherto unpublished 
sources, such as Spence's Anecdotes, about the life and opinions of 
the poet. It does not enhance one's opinion of the critic, however, 
to find that he has comparatively little to add, forty years later, to 
the opinions he has already expressed, and that he is content to 
repeat what he has said in the same words, with the same discur- 
siveness, verbosity, and lack of method, and introducing the same 
irrelevant stories or allusions to prove the width of his reading. 
If we ignore merely graphical and verbal changes, a few examples 
may serve as illustrations of his methods : 

(1) In the Life of Pope, at the beginning of the Works, pp. 
Ixviii to Ixx, Warton uses pp. 408 1. 5 to 410 1. 19 of the second 
volume of the Essay, 1782, 4th edition (N. B. Vol. n was published 
for the first time in that year). The passage is too long for quota- 
tion in its entirety, but a few sentences are typical of the way in 
which he patches together his earlier work. 

Works. Essay. 

P. Ixviii. His whole thoughts, Vol. n, p. 408, 1. 5. Thus have I 

time and talents were spent on his endeavoured to give a critical ac- 

Works alone : which Works, if we count ... of each of Pope's Works ; 

dispassionately and carefully review, by which review it will appear that 

we shall find, that the largest por- the largest portion of them is of the 

tion of them, for he attempted noth- didactic, moral, and satiric kind ; 

ing of the epic and dramatic, is of and consequently, not of the most 

the didactic, moral, and satiric kind; poetic species of poetry; whence it 

and consequently, not of the most is manifest, that good sense and 

poetic species of Poetry. There is judgment were his characteristical 

nothing in so sublime a style as excellencies, rather than fancy and 

The Bard of Grav. . No man can invention. 



Works (Cont'd) 

possibly think, or can hint, that the 
Author of the Rape of the Lock, and 
the Eloisa, wanted imagination, or 
sensibility, or pathetic; but he cer- 
tainly did not so often indulge and 
exert those talents, nor give so 
many proofs of them as he did of 
strong sense and judgment. 

P. Ixx. Malignant and insensible 
must be the critic, who should im- 
potently dare to assert, that Pope 
wanted genius and imagination; but 
perhaps it may safely be affirmed, 
that his peculiar and character- 
istical excellencies were good sense 
and judgment. And this was the 
opinion of Atterbury and Boling- 

Essays (Cont'd) 

ii, 410, 1. 19, and he has written 
nothing in a strain so truly sublime, 
as The Bard of Gray. 

n, 408, not that the author of The 
Rape of the Lock, and Eloisa can be 
thought to want imagination; but 
because his imagination was not his 
predominant talent, because he in- 
dulged it not, and because he gave 
not so many proofs of this talent as 
of the other. 

Vol. I, p. 115. Footnote. Atter- 
bury and Bolingbroke had the very 
same opinion of the bent and turn 
of our author's genius (et seq.) . 

It is like fitting a puzzle together to trace the different clauses, 
and one cannot feel sure that a missing sentence may not, after 
all, turn up on a further examination of the texts. Warton himself, 
must certainly have re-read his Essay many times in order to make 
sure he had omitted no phrase that could by any possibility be 
utilized again. 


(2) i, 151, ver. 108. I am afraid 
there is a trivial antithesis betwixt 
the words snows and glows, unwor- 
thy our author. 

Ver. 112. The death is expressed 
with a brevity and abruptness suit- 
able to the nature of the ode. In- 
stead of he sung, Virgil says vocabat, 
which is more natural and tender, 
and adds a moving epithet, that he 
called miseram Eurvdicen. . . . 


I, 59, 1. 19. " he glows amid 
Rhodope's snows," which I hope the 
poet did not intend as it would be a 
trivial and puerile conceit. The 
death of Orpheus is expressed with 
a beautiful brevity and abruptness, 
suitable to the nature of the 
ode: . . . 

P. 60, 1. 4. Instead of sung, Vir- 
gil says vocabat, which is more 
natural and tender ; and Virgil adds 
a very moving epithet that he calls 
niiseram Eurydicen. 

The above, at any rate, is perfectly straightforward transference, 
and such is usual in the notes to particular verses. It is in the 
longer sections, the introductory note or final general criticism on 


a poem, that the piecing-together is most remarkable. Here too 
there are the most striking deviations, whether in the form of 
omission or addition. (3) Thus the "Final Note" to the Odes 
(Works i, 152) but for a few verbal changes, corresponds exactly to 
the Essay, i, pp. 66 to 68, but it adds at the end a quotation of 
some lines from a comment of Gray, not found in any edition of 
the Essay: 

"We have had (says Mr. Gray) in our language, other odes of 
the sublime kind, than that of Dryden on St. Cecilia's Day: for 
Cowley, who had his merit, yet wanted judgment, style, and 
harmony for such a task. That of Pope is not worthy of so great a 
master. Mr. Mason, indeed of late days, has touched the true 
chords, and with a masterly hand, in some of his chorusses; above 
all in the last of Caractacus ; 

" Hark ! heard yet not you footsteps dread ? " etc. 

Gray's Works, 4to., page 25. 

(4) Similarly, a few pages further on (p. 158) at the end of the 
Final note to chorus of Athenians, which comes bodily from the 
Essay I, 71-75, there is the following addition : 

" But what shall we say to the strong objections lately made by 
some very able and learned critics to the use of the chorus at all ? 
The critics I have in view, are Metastasio, Twining, Pye, Colman, 
and Johnson ; who have brought forward such powerful arguments 
against this, so important a part of the ancient drama, as to shake 
our conviction of its utility and propriety, founded on what Hurd, 
Mason, and Brumoy, have so earnestly and elegantly urged on the 

Comparing this with the note which has immediately preceded, 
we find that Warton retains his openness to new impressions, and 
that he is not afraid to change his mind, even though he objects to 
sacrifice his nicely rounded periods. 

Sometimes, as in the next example, the parallels are different in 
kind from those hitherto selected. The substance of a passage is 
utilized again, but the whole is compressed and considerably 
changed : 




(5) I, p. 255, vr. 667. This disso- 
lute and effeminate writer little de- 
served a place among good critics, 
for only two or three pages on the 
subject of criticism. His fragment 
on the Civil War is far below Lucan, 
whom he endeavoured to blame and 
to excel. Sir George Wheeler, es- 
teemed an accurate traveller, in- 
forms us that he saw at Trau, in 
the hands of a Doctor Statelius, a 
fragment of Petronius, in which the 
account of the Supper of Trimalcion 
was entire. Yet the fragment has 
been judged to be spurious. 


I, p. 176. For what merit Petro- 
nius should be placed among useful 
critics, I could never discern. There 
are not above two or three pages 
containing critical remarks in his 
work; the chief merit of which is 
that of telling a story with grace 
and ease. His own style is more 
affected than even that of his con- 
temporaries, when the Augustan 
simplicity was laid aside. Many of 
his metaphors are far-fetched, and 
mixed. His character of Horace, 
however celebrated and so often 
quoted as to become nauseous, 
''Horatii curiosa fselicitas," is sure- 
ly a very unclassical inversion; for 
he ought to have called it the happy 
carefulness of Horace, rather than 
his careful happiness. I shall ob- 
serve, by the way, that the copy of 
this author found some years ago, 
bears many signatures of its spu- 
riousness, and particularly of its 
being forged by a Frenchman. For 
we have this expression, " ad Cas- 
tella sese receperunt " ; that is, " to 
their Chateaux," instead of " ad 
Villas." They who maintain the 
genuineness of these fragments of 
Petronius, will find it difficult to 
answer the objections of Bunnan 
and Perizonius. 

(6) In dealing with Volume n of the Essay, Wanton proceeds 
methodically to chop up the first 54 pp. for notes to Works. Vol. n, 
pp. 143 to p. 300. But from p. 54 he jumps to p. 390 for the 
concluding notes of Vol. n, going steadily to p. 402, except for one 
Deviation. The footnote, namely,, on p. 400, is transferred to Vol. I 
of the Works, p. Ixi, instead of heing used where we should expect 
to find it in Vol. II. 

These examples must suffice to indicate "Wartou's conception of 
his duties as an editor, and his method of superseding his prede- 
cessor, Warburton. But they do not do justice to his unwearied 
industry in readapting his material. 


Nor can the edition be judged merely by a comparison of the 
parallel passages, even when this is made in detal. It is more 
than merely a reissue in a new form of Warton's most original 
contribution to criticism. But the parallels are so numerous that 
they are worthy of note,, and they cannot be ignored by anyone who 
wishes to form a just estimate of Warton's editorial and critical 
work. There seems good reason to believe that the edition of Pope's 
Works was undertaken as a " pot-boiler " and as a means of attack- 
ing Warburton, rather than because the worthy doctor had anything 
of importance to add to his earlier,, bold exaltation of imaginative 
poets at the expense of "the great Poet of Reason, the First of 
Ethical authors in verse." 


University College, Reading, England. 



Since the days of Isaac Reed it has been known that the plot of 
Davenport's play, The City Nightcap or Crede Quod Hdbes et 
Habes, was taken partly from Rbbert Greene's novel, Philomela 
the Lady Fitzwaters Nightingale. I have not been able to find, 
however, that a study has been made of the exact relations between 
the two works. With a previous interest essentially in Robert 
Greene I have made such a comparison, aiming to ascertain how 
far the form of the play was determined by that of the novel. 

The City Nightcap consists of two stories, that which Davenport 
took from Greene, and that which is told in the Decameron (Day 
7, Novel 7), the two being in striking contrast. The part derived 
from Greene's novel deals with the jealous husband and the faithful 
wife ; that derived from Boccaccio, with the confident husband and 
the wanton wife. The two stories are told with little connection 
between them. 

Davenport has changed Greene's proper names. The scene is in 
Verona instead of in Venice, with the Duke of Verona as cousin 
to the jealous husband, who in the play is called Lorenzo Medico, 
instead of Phillipo. The friend, Giovanni Lutesio, of the novel, 


is named Phillipo in the play. Philomela is called Abstemia 
throughout the play except that when in disguise she is called 
Millicent. Her brother is the Duke of Venice, whereas in the 
novel her avenging relative is the Duke of Milan, the father. In 
the play it is to Milan instead of to Sicily that Philomela, or 
Abstemia, goes; and it is the Duke's son, Antonio, who plays the 
part of Arnoldo of the novel. These are the principal changes in 

The main differences between the play and the novel, so far as 
the story is concerned, are that in the play the incident of preg- 
nancy is omitted, that the incident of the captain's love is left out, 
that Abstemia is in the house of a bawd in Milan instead of in the 
house of the captain at Palermo, that Phillipo instead of being an 
outside character is the murderrer of Antonio's slave, and finally 
that the story ends happily instead of with Lorenzo's death. 

The treatment of the play is much more condensed than that of 
the novel. The events leading up to the accusation of the wife 
and friend before the Duke are set forth in one scene in the play. 
In the novel these same events occupy nearly fifty pages, space 
which is filled with long descriptions, discourses, speeches, letters, 
and odes. Each trial of Philomela's virtue is narrated in great 
detail, with much psychologizing and philosophizing on the part 
of all the persons concerned. On the whole, indeed, I think it may 
be said that the play is much better proportioned than the novel. 
Nearly the whole of the fifth act the last twelve pages of it is 
concerned with events which happen after Philomela (Abstemia) 
takes upon herself the crime of killing the Duke's son. In the 
novel, only eight pages are occupied with this part of the story, 
and the impression is as much that of hurriedness as that of the 
first part is of tedioutness. That is, Greene in Philomela has con- 
ducted his story in his usual manner with the fault of dispro- 

Davenport was indebted to Greene for more than the plot of his 
play. It is interesting to find in The City Nightcap many passages 
which resemble in style work written thirty-five or forty years 
before, turns of expression and euphuistic mannerisms which by 
1624 had become obsolete. 1 To 'take a few passages at random: 

*Cf. Mary Augusta Scott, Elizabethan Translations from the Italian, 
1916, p. 58. Edd. 


When the Elisander-Leaf looks most green, 
The sap is then most bitter. 

she that is lip-holy 
Is many times heart hollow. 

" Your are, sir, just like the Indian hyssop, praised of strangers, for 
the sweet scent, but hated of the inhabitants, for the injurious quality." 

Lines like these show that Davenport was paying some attention to 
Greene's style as well as to his story. 

Greene's story is full of long speeches. . When Phillipo summons 
his wife and friend to trial, he makes a long speech before the Duke. 
" It is not unknowen," he says, " to the Venetians (right famous 
Duke and honorable nagistrates of this so worthie a Cittie) how 
ever since I married this Philomela I have yeelded her such love 
with reverence, such affection with care, such devoted favours with 
affected duties, that I did rather honour her as a saint, than 
regarde her as a wife," etc. In the play this speech begins as 
follows : 

Thus then, 

(Great sir, grave lords, and honourable auditors 

Of my dishonour) I affirm 'tis known 

To th' signory of Verona, the whole city. . . . 

How since my marriage with that woman . . . 

...... I have perform'd 

So fairly all judicial wedlock offices, 

That malice knew not how at my whole actions 

To make one blow, and to strike home. I did rather 

Honour her as a saint, sir, than respect her 

As she was my wife. 

When Philomela, in the novel, arises to reply she begins, " Oh ! 
Phillipo Medici, once the lover of Philomela," just as Abstemia 
in the play, " Oh ! Lorenzo Medici, Abstemia's lover once," etc. 
After the sentence has been passed Philomela says, " Phillipo, I 
leave thee to the choice of a new love, and the fortunes of a faire 
wife, who if she prove as honestly amorous towards thee as Philo- 
mela, then wrong her not with suspition, as thou has don me with 
jealousie: lest she prove too liberal and pay my debts." In the 
play, this speech reads, 

Farewell, Lorenzo, 

Whom my soul doth love: If you e'er marry, 
May you meet a good wife; so good, that you 
May not suspect her, nor may she be worthy of 
Your suspicion. . . . 
But may she never live to pay my debts. 


As to effectiveness, the speeches in the play and the novel ar> 
about equal. Those in the play are usually shorter and sometimes 
more vivid. On the other hand, some of those of the novel have 
more of genuine emotion. 


University of Arkansas. 


Lope de Vega, Amar sin Saber a Quien. Edited with notes and 
SWEDELIUS. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1920. 
vii + 202 pp. 

This well-known comedia by Lope de Vega is quite worthy of a 
new critical edition, and especially of one with notes and vocabulary 
in English. The editors' choice of a play was felicitous, and their 
notes are excellent. 

The play does not have an introduction, and in the Preface, 
which is short, the editors do not attempt to give a study of Lope's 
life and works. The statement on page iv that "the contents of 
the two editions " (Parte XXII, Zaragoza, 1630, and Madrid, 
1635) "are almost wholly different" refers to the plays that are 
contained in the two volumes, and not to the texts of Amar sin 
saber a quien. Only two plays are common to both volumes and 
our play is one of them. 

To the references in the Preface may be added one to d'Ouville, 
Aimer sans savoir qui, Paris, 1645. 

It would be well, it seems to me, if our editors of Spanish plays 
would include in their critical editions a brief summary of the 
main action and a short description of the chief characters. M. 
Viguier has given succinctly a just appreciation of our play in 
CEuvres de P. Corneille, Grands Ecrivains de la France (Paris, 
Hachette, 1862), IV, 3921 

A "partial vocabulary" is given at the end, and, like all such 
vocabularies, it may be. criticized on the ground that some common 
words are given while some unusual words are omitted. 

The following is a list of suggested additions to, or changes in 
the Notes. 


4, note. " decillo = decirlo, an example of assimilation." If 
the r of the infinitive was assimilated to the I of the enclitic pro- 
noun, the assimilation must have taken place before the change of 
double I to palatal / was completed, but this change seems not to 
have been ancient. 1 Certainly in Lope's works II does not represent 
two Z's. In this edition -allo, -alia, etc., occur in verse endings five 
times, and each time in a rime-word (vv. 4, 22, 1012, 2351, 2766). 
The forms -arlo, -aria, etc., are used eight times in verse endings, 
but only one (in v. 1335) is in rime. In modernizing the spelling 
Mr. Buchanan has changed -allo, -alia, etc., to -arlo, -aria, etc., 
wherever the rime permitted, and he has also changed -Id- to -dl- 
in imperatives. 

5. vos was equivalent to the modern vosotros only when vos was 
plural. As a form of courteous address vos was also singular. By 
the beginning of the seventeenth century vos was not seldom a term 
of disrespect, or at least of condescension. Cf. Juan de Luna, 
Didlogos familiares (Paris, 1619), didlogo i: "Vos se dice a los 
criados o vasallos. Vuesaste, vuesa merced, vuestra merced, . . . 
se da a todos, grandes y pequenos." 

7. lengua. Is it not the meaning that ' steel ' is the ' tongue ' 
with which people in Toledo answer insults? 

36. Espiro should be Expiro, if, as stated on page 132, "the 
spelling has been modernized." Note also vv. 293, 1025. 

45. criado has regularly three syllables, by analogy with crio. 
Cf. w. 69, 433, and also crianza, vv. 1052, 2391. See F. Kobles 
Degano, Ortologia clasica de la lengua castellana (Madrid, 1905), 

50. solre = ademds de. 

53. Sometimes in the text the arrangement of a broken verse, or 
of a verse too long to be given in one line, is unfortunate. Thus, 
the position of the words is such that it is difficult to tell at first 
sight which are the rime-words in vv. 53, 66, 68, 2175-7, et al. 
Verse 66, for instance, would be better if arranged thus : 

Alguacil. Muestre la espada. 

Don Juan. Hidalgos, poco a poco. 

This is doubtless the fault of the printer. 

1 Cf. F. Hanssen, Gramdtica historica de la lengua castellana, Halle, 
1913, 126. 


69. aqueste is used to give the requisite number of syllables. It 
is a matter of meter rather than of rhythm. 

72. mudado el calendario. Can this refer to the change in the 
calendar, which was made in the Roman Catholic countries when 
Lope was twenty years old, but which had not yet been adopted by 
the countries where the Protestant and the Greek churches pre- 
vailed? If one did not know, or if one forgot, that the calendar 
had been changed, he would be ten days late. 

Sr. D. Adolfo Bonilla y San Martin, in a recent letter to Professor 
Buchanan, suggests the following interpretation: "Traigo una 
mula que parece dromedario (por lo grande) y que a fuerza de 
repetidos golpes (sonsonetes) me ha traido despellejado (mudado 
la piel) el colisco" (see note to w. 2788-2795). 

Professor Rudolph Schevill offers as a free rendering of the 
passage: "I have come with a mule sprung from a dromedary 
which by its monotonous pace has made me fail to see the passing 
of time/' 

98, note. Mr. C. E. Anibal of Indiana University has evidence 
which leads him to believe that No hay dicha ni desdicha hasta la 
muerte is by Mira de Amescua. Mr. Anibal's material will be 
published later. 

108 f . It is difficult to compare our standard shades of color 
with those of Spain in the seventeenth century. For instance, 
purpureo ("color roxa escura/' Cobarruvias, 1611) is often 
rendered by < purple/ even labios purpureos being sometimes trans- 
lated ( purple lips ' ! Verde obscuro denoted blighted hope ; "bianco, 
purity and faith (see also commentaries to Dante, Purg., xxix) ; 
and morado denoted true love. The Diccionario de Autoridades, iv 
(1734), defines morado as " De color de mora, que es mezcla de roxo 
y negro/' Speaking of the mora, it says : " su zumo es de color de 
sangre, y tine como ella." Dark red was the color of love, whether 
it were purpureo (cf. v. 1922; Dante uses porpora: Purg.., 131) or 
morado. Bright red (rojo claro) denoted the flush of shame. The 
common use of morado to denote true love may have been in part 
due, in Spain, to the fact that the moral symbolized that which was 
slow to flower but was ever faithful. See Cobarruvias, under 

135. Hiatus between de and amores is impossible, as neither 
de nor a- is stressed. The line has eight syllables by reading Leo- 
as of two syllables, or by inserting ay and reading Leo- as of one 


syllable. If two strong vowels precede the stress, they may form a 
diphthong or they may be dissyllabic, usually at the option of the 
poet. But Lope prefers Lebnarda: see w. 174, 175, 189. 

145. me ocasionas = me rines. 

160, note. " Mme. d'Aunoy " : The usual spelling is "Aulnoy." 

185. retrata is better: "the eyes are the mirror which reflects 

202-324, note. " Relaciones . . . are obviously undramatic, and 
were severely criticized by the neo-classic critics of the seventeenth 
and eighteenth centuries." But relaciones were regularly used by 
the neo-classicists to avoid violent action on the stage. 

311. ahora, in verse, may count as three syllables, as a and o are 
both strong vowels, and o is stressed. Syneresis, nevertheless, is 
rather frequent, except at end of line (see Robles, 269). 

433. Cierto may take the indefinite article. Cuervo (Die. de 
constr. y reg.) says: "(cierto) se acompana a menudo con el 
(articulo) indefinido . . . para dar a entender que se trata de 
cualidad o circunstancia muy peculiar del objeto." Numerous 
examples are given. 

546. Dueno is still regularly used in this sense. " El que tiene 
el dominio. . . . En este sentido suele llamarse asi tambien a la 
mujer; y siempre en los requiebros amorosos, diciendo dueno mlo, 
y no duena mia" (Dice. Acad.). Duena has quite a different 
meaning. Even Cobarrucias (1611) says that "duena . . . agora 
significa comunmente las que sirven con tocas largas y mongiles a 
diferencja de las donzellas." 

559, note : manteo, f skirt.' Would not ' cassock ' be a better 
rendering? Cobarruvias (1611), under manto, says: "llamamos 
manteo la cobertura del Clerigo que le abriga de pies a cabega. . . ." 

565. Alf agues. Cobarruvias (1611) defines: "isleta en la costa 
del Rayno de Valencia. Ay en Africa una ciudad maritima que 
antiguamente se dixo Ruspe, y agora la llaman Alfaques." 

566. ve, a misprint for de. 

579-582. When the lamb becomes a ram, it has horns. Cf. 
Diccionario de Autoridades: "Poner los cuernos. Faltar, o hacer 
faltar a la fe del matrimonio." 

623. The grammar (1917) of the Spanish Academy gives 
" hemos o habemos." 

646. Dark eyes, with a glint of green, have long been admired 
in Spain ; but blue eyes seem not to have been esteemed. In Lope's 


Dorotea (n, 6) Gerarda, expressing contempt of people who eat 
sweets, says : " en viendo un hombre que come cascos de naranja, 
le miro si tiene los ojos azules." 

651, note : versos graves. See also page 131. I find no authority 
for this use of verso grave to denote only an 11-syllable line. A 
verse-line that ends with an unstressed syllable is grave or llano, 
whatever the number of syllables may be. 

657. The reading that has been adopted appears defective, as 
the verses from 651 to 666 seem to be in octavas reales (rime : 
abababcc). Verse 660 is not found in Hartzenbusch's edition. I 
have not A at hand. The reading of B and C, 

me ha de sacar de la prision remedio 
que de todo mi mal se pone en medio 

properly closes the first octave. The second octave begins with 
v. 658 (v. 660 is omitted). There are then two standard octavas 
reales. For this reason the text of B and C seems preferable to 
that of A. 

682. C has este. The indicative after holgar is unusual. See 
vv. 2094-5. 

686. The old decima consisted of two quintillas logically con- 
nected. There are many of these in the Cancionero de Stuniga. 
The decima known as espinela, which is the one we have in our 
text, has a fixed rime-scheme (abbaaccddc), with a pause, usually 
but not always, after the fourth line but no pause after the fifth 
to indicate that the decima is not two quintillas. Cf. Lope, Laurel 
de Apolo, and La Dorotea (i f 8) ; Revue hispanique, XLI, 219 f. ; 
Journal of American Folk-Lore, 1918, pp. 289 f. (article by A. M. 
Espinosa). In v. 1405 (not 1406) there should be a comma, or a 
dash, after espada. There is a slight pause. 

789. la seems to refer to disculpa: " who gives offense by making 
love, what excuse will he give for his boldness? For if love gives 
an excuse to everybody, and I offend you with love, I shall scarcely 
be able to give the offense as an excuse/' 

797. doscientos escudos de veneno, ( two hundred crowns worth 
of poison/ There does not seem to be a pun on escudilla. 

806. The line seems to be too long, as fia is regularly dis- 
syllabic: syneresis is rare. 

814. The decima (espinela) is highly lyric, and is used to 
express emotion, as here. 


821. The line is short by one syllable. C has aqueste, instead 
of este, which gives the requisite number of syllables. 

836. Miraba, ' I thought/ 

843. Lope, Corona trdgica, f. 2, uses "pecho catolico diamante.'' 

938. No paseis de ahi, " Don't go any farther." 

941. manifesto should be manifiesto. 

1075. Yo por su guarda voy, ' I'll act as his guard.' 

1128-1129, note. Observe also how frequently Moliere used 
foreign languages and dialects in his plays. 

1168-9 are spoken by Limon. 

1098 and 1201. There seem to be two ways of emending the text : 

Sefiora iquin la escuchara . . . ! 
Perdonad si me turbara; 


;Dichoso quien la escuchare . . . ! 
Perdonad si me turbare. 

Either one would be grammatically and logically correct. /Quien 
la escuchare ... ! as an exclamation is impossible. See v. 930. 
Perdonad si me turbara makes good sense, as the verb forms in 
-ara, -iera, in the works of Lope, Cervantes, et al. f may be either 
imperfect or pluperfect. Cf. detuviera, v. 1405; viera, v. 2573; 
supiera, v. 2595; dijeras, v. 3052 all used with the force of a 

1205. The text of A, B, and C, seems in every way preferable. 
It is not likely that Don Juan would call the lady reina: he regu- 
larly uses senora. On the other hand, Limon is fond of reina: cf. 
w. 512, 609. 

1314. Hiatus between dueno and estoy is here quite impossible. 

1321. en pena, ' in its torment/ 

1339-1343. These lines are difficult of interpretation. At least 
once Lope has used rostro to mean 'mask'; as in the following 
lines to which Mr. C. E. Anibal has called my attention : 

Teodoro . . . : 

i Por qu6 me infamas ansf? 
Quita, Aurelio, el rostro, quita 
la mascara; di a la Reina 
cufil homfore, despue's que reina, 
mas su vida solicita. 

(Arminda Celosa, I, 2, p. 694, Obras de Lope de Vega publicadas 

por la Real Acad. Eap. Nueva ed., Obras dramdticas, I. ) 


Both Teodoro and Aurelio have entered masked, the former only 
having removed his mask. Does the passage in our text mean : " Be 
sure that my heart, which I strive to give you, is laying aside its 
cloak, while its mask (disguise) rightly grants more liberty or 
hand than the liberty or hand which I have given you," or 
does rostro here mean ' face ' ? 

1379-1381. Is not Limon afraid of falling while attempting to 
scale the brick wall of a house (cf. w. 1370-1377) ? The Countess 
d'Aulnoy, in her description of Toledo, says : " . . . f uimos a la 
plaza mayor, que se llama Zocodover. Las casas que la circundan 
son de ladrillo y todas analogas con balcones " (D'Aulnoy, Viaje por 
Espana en 1679 , version castellana, Madrid, 1891, p. 231). 
Note also the following description of Madrid : " Toutes ces maisons 
y sont de brique, hormis le palais du roi, dont neantmoins la fagade 
seule est de pierre, les trois autres costez n'estant que de brique " 
(Frangois Bertaut, Journal du voyage d'Espagne en 1659 , 
Revue hispanique, XLVII, 43). 

1418. desengcmo, 'disillusionment, disappointment.' 

1419. lo = muerto. 

1442. The use of interrogative cual, instead of que, as an 
adjective, was not unusual then, but is now rare in standard 

1451. There is much conceptism in the preceding lines. 

1490. Esto, 'This fact' (subject of resiste). 

1529. lo hilvanan, ' they baste it together/ or ' they sew it to- 
gether.' 'To baste' a fowl is quite different (cf. Voc.). 

1541. organo: the Diccionario de Autoridades describes an 
organo, which was a mechanism used in taverns to cool beverages. 
Professor Buchanan has called my attention to the use of organo in 
the sense of ' chorus,' or ' medley of voices,' as in un organo . . . 
de ninos, and un organo de gatos. 

1611. cosan is better. 

1612. The line is too long by one syllable. With bodega, which 
Hartzenbusch uses, the line is metrically correct. The Diccionario 
de Autoridades gives bodego. "lo mismo que bodegon. Es voz 
feativa e inventada," and quotes Quevedo. 

1648. Ha de . . . , or ah de . . . , is an exclamation used 
to call attention to the speaker. Thus: 

DonJtian. (A.p. Llegad y hafolad. lengua niuda. ) 
jAh de arri!ba! 


Dona Incs. jSois don Gil? 

(Tirso de Molina, Don Gil de las colzas verdes, in, 12.) 

Arriero Segundo 
jAli del coche! idonde bueno? 

(Alarc6n, Las paredes oyen, n, 14.) 

1690. The meter requires a instead of por, as hiatus is usual 
when the initial vowel of the second word bears the rhythmic accent 
at the end of the line, as here. Cf. vv. 2541, 2251. 

1725. celos. Note that Fernando has celos of the man who is 
making love to his sister. Here celos is " sospecha o temor " 
(Diccionario de Autoridades) . 

ruido should he riiido. 

1731. Mothers seldom appear in the older plays of France or 
Italy either, unless it be in some noble tragedy (as in the Andro- 
maque of Racine) . Moliere rarely presents a mother. Playwrights 
instinctively, and very wisely, avoid making fun of mothers or drag- 
ging them into commonplace affairs. 

1748. Note the negative force of $hele visto yo. . . . 

1751. despertar tu olvido, ' remind you of an incident that you 
should forget/ 

1802. letuario = electuario, " genero de confeccion medicinal 
. . . de que hay varias especies purgantes, adstringentes o cordia- 
les" (Dice. Aut.). A bit of letuario cordial in the early morning 
was much esteemed by workmen : 

Al madrugar, 
almorzaba de ordinario 
una lonja de lo afiejo (jam6n) 
porque era cristiano viejo; 
y con este letuario, 
.aqua vitis, que es de vid, 
visitaiba sin trabajo 
calle arrtba, calle abajo, . . 
los egrotos de Madrid. 
(Tirso de Molina, Don CHI de las calzas verdes, i, 2.) 

In Porfiar hasta morir (n, 14), Lope speaks of "letuario y 

1817. agradecido, "que agradece " (Dice. Acad.). 

1851. noche seems to be the subject of huya. It is the 'night/ 
and not the ' dawn/ that silently flees toward the west in the early 


1922. purpura, "color rojo subido" (Dice. Acad.). .It cer- 
tainly does not mean sangre here. 

1955. With Es, Luis is of one syllable; without it, Luis is dis- 
syllabic. Eobles (p. 262) states that in Tirso he found eighty- 
eight cases of dieresis to forty4wo of syneresis, but today Luis 
is usually of one syllable, and it seems usually to be so in this play. 
Cf. w. 1820, 2559, etc. 

1994. Hartzenbusch does not give lo. According to all the 
rules of the game, there should be hiatus between desde and hoy, 
and with lo the line would then be too long. 

2033. os arrugasteis, ' you rode hard ' (crouching in the saddle) . 
In Eojas's comedy, Del rey abajo ninguno (v. 779), arrugar seems 
to mean robar. 

2083. cristalina doncella. Lope is fond of using cristal and 
cristalino. He uses these words at least five times in Porfiar hasta 
morir, and several times in the Laurel de Apolo. They usually 
refer to the water, white with foam, of the sea or of a brook or 
fountain. They may refer to silver, or even to white teeth, as in 

'Cuando Dios no fabricara 
ptirpura y cristal de roca, 
naturaleza en su boca 
cristal y pfirpura hallara 

(Porfiar Jiasta morir, n, 11.) 

In the following passage, cristal is used to describe the fair hands 
of a beautiful woman : 

jAy! jquten fuera tan dichoso 
que de aquella mano ibella, 
de aquel cristal, de aquel nficar, 
ese favor recibiera! 

(Porfiar hasta morir, m, 7.) 

2153. paz de Castillo,: paz may here mean 'kiss/ a common 
meaning of the word in certain expressions such as " dar paz " 
(Cantar de mio Cid, v. 3385), "la paz de Judas " (Valles, Libro 
de refranes, cf. L), "paz de gallego, tenla por agiiero " (Correas, 
Vocabulario de refranes, etc., p. 385) ; but, like Professor Buchanan, 
I must confess that there probably lurks an allusion that escapes me. 

2203. aun should be aun. 

2283. Latin -fades (f.) 'face/ has given modern haz or faz, 
both feminine. Latin fascis (m.), 'bundle, sheaf/ has given mod- 
ern haz (m.) ; while from Latin acies (f.), ' line of battle, troops in 


battle array/ has come modern haz (m.). In the Cantar de mio 
Cid } az' (from acies) is usually feminine, but at least once it is 
masculine (v. 711). Faz (from fastis) seems not to occur in the 
Cid. Latin fastis and modern Spanish haz, ' bundle, sheaf/ are 
both masculine, and I find no authority for believing this word 
ever to have been feminine. Los haces would therefore seem a 
better reading in our text. 

2288-9. Note in the midst of this romance verse, with 6-0 asso- 
nance, the interjection of two eleven-syllable lines. Is this a quo- 

2301, note. The ne should be ve. 

2331. Hacer is often followed by the subjunctive. 

2342. The line is too long. En el would make the line of the 
right length. 

2480-3. ' Don Luis, because his past acts (of kindness toward 
me) bid me to put his hope in your possession. . . / 

2645. no hay una, in verse, always counts as three syllables. 
Cf. vv. 2704, 2782. 

2687. " because of " seems superfluous in the translation. 

2908-11. Mr. C. E. Anibal has called my attention to the fol- 
lowing lines in Tirso de Molina, El burlador de Sevilla, I : 

y en vuestro divino oriente 
renazco, y no hay que eapantar 
pues veis hay de mar a amar 
una letra solamente. 

3005. ^que tiene mds? = ^que mas da? 


Indiana University. 

Flaubert and Maupassant: A Literary Relationship, by AGNES 
RUTHERFORD RIDDELL, Ph. D. The University of Chicago 
Press, 1920. 

Dr. Riddell first treats the personal relationship existing between 
Flaubert and his disciple, Maupassant, and then presents a psy- 
chological study of the two men with a discussion of their general 
outlook on life and society. She takes up next the more imme- 
diate problem of literary relationship, and discusses similarities of 
plot, incident, characterization, ideas, and wording. 


Her first chapter, which is short, has comparatively little direct 
value in interpreting these authors' literary ideals. It is to be 
regretted that the psychological analysis of both men, treated in 
the second chapter, is not further developed, for, in spite of their 
ideals of impersonality in literature, their writings are to be under- 
stood only in the light of their personalities. If the author had 
gone more deeply into their psychology, she could have explained 
the reason for their preferences, and rendered her whole discussion 
of resemblances more convincing. The romantic element in the 
nature of both could well have been enlarged upon, especially their 
fondness for the grotesque, the hideous, and the cruel. Flaubert's 
theory of color could have been more completely presented, for not 
only did the sounds of the syllables create a harmony that dis- 
tinguished each phrase for Flaubert, but to him they suggested a 
color which also was suited to that special phrase. 1 The discussion 
of odor (p. 44) is incomplete, although it is a very interesting 
topic, if there lies behind it a definite theory, as in the case of color. 

The treatment of character is by far the best part of the disser- 
tation. It leads one more intimately into the philosophy of each 
writer than does any other section. In speaking of the peasant's 
having aspects of the brute, and of the effect on him of brutal 
manual toil, Dr. Kiddell could have referred to the peasant novels 
of Ferdinand Fabre, Zola, and Balzac, for the realists dwell upon 
the same aspects. Apparently Emma Bovary is the great creation 
of Flaubert's genius. As the expression of his theory of bovarysme, 
her spirit runs through all he wrote. This same point of view is 
found in Maupassant, but is there none more dominant which is 
peculiar to the latter? Is "ineffectiveness," as portrayed by 
Frederic Moreau, Bretigny, Pierre, and others, the counterpart of 
Flaubert's pessimism ? This is the most interesting question raised 
in the thesis, but only one paragraph (pp. 92-93) is given to it. 

* See J. Baratoux in Le progres medical, 10 d6c. 1887. This psychological 
phenomenon is often present with persons afflicted with the same malady 
as Flaubert. They can associate a color with every sound that strikes the 
ear. Of. also Flaubert's remark, cited in the Journal des Goncourt (I, 17 
mars 1861 ) : " L'histoire, 1'aventure d'un roman, c.a m'est bien Sgal. J'ai 
la pense, quand je fais un roman, de rendre une coloration, une nuance. 
Par exemple; dans mon roman carthaginois, je veux quelque chose de 
pourpre. Dans Madame Bovary je n'ai que 1'idSe de rendre un ton, cette 
couleur de moisissure de Pexistence des cloportes." 


The author leaves the impression with us that Flaubert is by far 
the greater genius, and we may infer that Maupassant was "not 
eminently inventive" (p. 13). Her conclusion, however, is not 
very convincing. She admits that " a considerable portion of 
Maupassant's work is distinctively his own," (p. 110), but she 
fails to prove it, for she gives us no adequate knowledge of the 
genius and ability of the younger man. 

Sometimes there are not enough references cited to establish a 
point, as in notes 18, 35, 36; and in note 154, where but two 
references are given to prove that " examples are numerous." It 
would be well to avoid this tendency to generalities. We also find, 
"are universally present" (p. 20); "numerous descriptions of 
crowds " (p. 98) ; and, " there is frequent reference in both authors 
to historical events " (p. 42). The discussion of the mot juste (pp. 
30, 31) is far from satisfactory. The author's only comment is, 
" On reading the words italicized above, one has the feeling that 
they are exactly the expressions required in the places where they 
occur." With Flaubert there was a whole philosophy of rhythm, 
sound, and color behind his choice of words. She does not try to 
explain this feeling for the " soul of words," 2 or to show whether 
each writer had a peculiar bent in choosing words. Further on 
(p. 43) she says, "Throughout their works both authors note the 
sounds proper to their descriptions." There is nothing significant 
in the fact that the noises made by various animals are mentioned 
by both Flaubert and Maupassant. It is the peculiar method by 
which each author gains his effect that is of interest. In the last 
part of the same paragraph Dr. Riddell suggests this method 
merely. It is of special interest, however, and should be greatly 
expanded. In fact the whole question of how each author works 
for literary effects is very superficially treated. 

1 do not think much significance can be placed upon " similarity 
in wording" (p. 103). The two descriptions of a pile of rocks 
(p. 105) are somewhat alike, but they merely render the reaction 
of almost any observer. Why should not both writers use " sans 
doute" (p. 106) a thousand times in the course of many novels 

2 Of. Maupassant, L'ttude sur Flaubert, p. xlix. "II y a dans les rap- 
prochements et les combinaisons des mots de la langue 6crite par certains 
hommes, toute revocation d'un monde poe"tique, que le peuple des mondaina 
ne sait plus apercevoir ni deviner." 


and short stories? "Enorme" and " frisson " (p. 106) have 
enough individuality, possibly, to indicate a special motive in their 
repeated use. They harmonize admirably with the romantic tem- 
perament of the two men. As for the use of the " ribbon " figure 
(p. 107), there are not enough examples to lead to any conclusion 
in the matter. The comparison with sang is more interesting, but 
the number of references given does not reveal any persistent use 
of the word. Both authors were naturally very fond of "blood 
color/' because it fitted their love of the grotesque and the horrible. 
In spite of the many interesting problems it brings to our atten- 
tion, the thesis as a whole fails to interpret, in terms of literary 
values, the significance of the characteristics therein enumerated of 
the styles of the two writers, and such an interpretation is necessary 
in order to form any judgment in regard to their importance as 
producers of literature. 


Syracuse University. 

English Pageantry, An Historical Outline. Volume u. By ROBERT 
WITHINGTON. Cambridge, Harvard University Press, 1920. 
Pp. vi -f 435. 

With an extensive review of the Lord Mayor's Show, of the 
surviving forms of the pageant, of the " Parkerian Pageant," and 
of Pageantry in the United States, this monument of devotion to 
an inevitably irritating but also fascinating subject has been com- 
pleted. As it began so it ends with attempted definitions of the 
genre a somewhat futile undertaking considering the various 
applications of the term " pageant " (cf. the stricter examples with 
such types as we find on pp. 159, 256, and passim.). The real 
importance of the work will be found in the rich material outlining 
the different spectacles, material which has the utmost significance 
for the historian as well as for the student of literature. The 
development from the treatments in the Renaissance, guided by 
little more than I'art pour I'ari, to the strongly political shows of 
the seventeenth century (see n, pp. 172 ff.), reveals one more aspect 
of the trend of the times. 

There is, of course, something disconcerting in the compilation 
of such a heterogeneous mass of detail, covering processions, 


banners., floats, chariots, barges, characters of all kinds, folklore, 
allegory, and history, "tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, scene 
individable or poem unlimited." Yet, humanly speaking, there is 
much that captivates interest; as, for example, in the debate (n, p. 
14, n. 4) as to how the devil got into the show, " It is almost im- 
possible to say whether this figure is a survival of the miracle-play 
drawn into pageantry by the influence of the wild-man, or whether 
it helped to make the 'wood-man' become wild." One Henry 
Hardware put down the show in 1599 because of the " devill in his 
fethers " or, perhaps, because of the "gyauntes." It is too bad that 
economy of space did not serve to allow a more extensive analysis of 
the folklore survivals such as the "green-men," and of the sym- 
bolical themes like the emblems of the guilds and the puns on the 
mayors' names (cf. n, pp. 71 ff.). There is plenty of material at 
hand but it is somewhat scattered. 

The contrast between the old pageant and the new is striking, as 
the study makes it quite clear. There is an increased emphasis on 
history in the new pageant, and (as Dr. Withington set forth in 
his paper read by title, number 56, at the meeting of the Modern 
Language Association in 1917) a novelty in " technique and manner 
of presentation." Perhaps we may criticize adversely, as somewhat 
confusing, his statements in one sentence that " the older and newer 
pageantry are so different from each other, that to include the 
modern work in a consideration of the early, is almost like adding 
an appendix about fire-dogs to a treatise on the habits of the 
canine," to adopt the humorously exaggerated figure of Mr. W. 
C. Langdon and his reservation in the next : "And yet the differ- 
ences are not so great as at first appears " (11, p. 194). There is a 
similarly mixed effect for the reader in learning (p. 213) that 
" from modern pageantry allegory has practically disappeared " 
and yet (p. 296) that "in America, we have linked history to 
morality-play abstractions" (cf. p. 282, n. 1). But this difficulty 
vanishes when we see that by " modern pageant " Dr. Withington 
means " Parkerian " pageant (see p. 195, n. 1) ; and, after all, these 
are only details in wording. 

The relation between the Midsummer festival and the Lord 
Mayor's Show is not exactly so well drawn as it might be. In the 
first volume, p. 37, we were told, " The Lord Mayor's show sprang 
from the Midsummer Show about the middle of the sixteenth 


century." * But in the second volume, p. 10, we find that " the 
civic show received pageants both from the ' royal-entry ' and the 
Midsummer Show, to both of which the civic bodies contributed." 
The only positive connection indicated is that Sir Lawrence 
Aylmer's pageant of 1516 " seems to have been part of the Mid- 
summer Show of that year " (LI, 10, n. 2) although Fairholt " calls 
it one of the earliest notices of a pageant exhibited on Lord Mayor's 
Day"; and again " in 1540 the Pageant of the Assumption which 
had figured in the annual show at the setting of the Midsummer 
watch in 1521-2, appears to have been borne before the Mayor 
from the Tower to Guildhall" (Fairholt, pt. 1, p. 14). As to the 
latter possible identification of elements (a pageant revived after 
eighteen years) it is to be observed that Herbert is " more cautious " 
(Withington, n, p. 11, n. 2). Is the indebtedness, then, simply a 
matter of these two doubtful instances? The Royal Entries were 
rich in material (see i, pp. 174 ff.). But, as Dr. Withington quotes 
from Chambers, " ' It is exceedingly probable that when the Mid- 
summer Show came to an. end in 1538, the pageants were trans- 
ferred to the installation procession' " (n, p. II). 2 And the rea- 
son for this conjecture follows later (pp. 14-15) : " In the 'royal- 
entry ' the platforms were usually stationary ; in the ' midsummer 
show ' . . . there was marching, and the platforms and giants were 
carried about." The problem is far from simple. It was proposed that 
the pageants of the Drapers be given up in 1522 because there were 
so many already prepared for the royal-entry of Charles V in that 
year. Evidently a similarity between the two types of entertain- 
ment was obvious. Even the religious dumb-shows, where the 
guilds used appropriate pageants (Chambers, n, 163), seem to 
resemble the pageant of the Golden Fleece (Withington, i, p. 40) 
in 1522 and that of John the Baptist in 1553 (n, p. 14). What, 

1 Cf. also n, p. 11: ". . . just at the time when the Midsummer Show in 
London is becoming the Lord Mayor's Show " ; and again, MLN, xxxiv, 
p. 501, " The London Lord Mayor's Show grew out of the Midsummer Show 
during the first half of the sixteenth century." 

z One suggestion of a show in 1531 or 1542 is advanced by Miss Adams 
(MLN, May, 1917, p. 285). Dr. Withington's attempt to dispose of the 
references to salt, Which the speech literally drags in, seems to me weak. 
But I suspect that he is right in assigning it to a region outside of London, 
perhaps Norwich. It is especially interesting for its use of rime-royal. 


also, was the contribution of the water processions, where the barges 
sometimes had elaborate emblematic decorations (cf. Fairholt, pt. 
1, pp. 11-12 and Withington, n, p. 10, etc.) ? 

Possibly the outline of the Lord Mayor's Show is the most impor- 
tant part of the second volume. What Fairholt could not give is, 
in most cases, here supplied from evidence which Dr. Withington 
himself found in the British Museum. One omission is surpris- 
ing, that of the approach to Fame in Dekker's " Troia Nova 
Triumphans" of 1612 (to which I have referred in my note, 
MLN, xxxin, pp. 178 ff. Cf. Withington, n, p. 81). And it is, 
perhaps, regrettable that a brief sketch of the shows described in 
Fairholt (see Withington, 11, p. 36) could not have been included 
in order to make the study more nearly complete and the history 
of the characters summarized in the index lists more comprehensive. 
Thus Dr. Withington refers to the "Lemon Tree" of the 1616 
show but not to the interesting pelican nesting at its root nor to 
the five senses seated around it (Fairholt, pt. 1, p. 41). 

But the mass of detail in these entertainments is, after all, vast. 
And the range of the work is a matter of note, touching, as it does, 
on various American spectacles which illustrate new phases, and 
supplying a great abundance of foreign examples. The plates are 
unusually fine, especially that of the " Debarkation on Lord Mayor's 
Day" (opposite p. 112) ; and those of us who have not, like Dr. 
Withington, been invited to a Guildhall banquet, will be interested 
to see what the invitation looks like (opposite p. 140). The ac- 
counts of the entertainments are full and interesting. While we 
are indebted to the author for such a record of important material, 
we are also grateful to him for his agreeable telling of the story. The 
index is a reproach to those popular works of learning which still 
occasionally appear without any, an omission now inexcusable. Here 
the Italic type is used for pageant characters, the Koman for 
figures of history. The topics furnish bibliographies for future 
monographs ; the references under Saint George, for instance, will 
give a good start on a thesis in advance of what has been done 
before. To the latter collection I may add a reference to " St. 
George and the Dragon come to London " in a Yuletide mumming, 
the Times Weekly Edition, January 2, 1920. Under Tournaments 
the Addendum (n, p. 190) brings the tournament strictly up to 
date ; and there is, in general, an especial timeliness in Dr. Withing- 


ton's book as a study of this chaotic, motley-hued " poetry for the 

The typography is good. I have noticed only a few errors: 
P. 4, notes 1. 8, delete comma. P. 23, 1. 3, delete comma. P. 194, 
11. 14, 15, delete commas. P. 207, 1. 7, " above one hundred," delete 
" hundred " (also vol. i, p. 118). P. 233, n. 2, 1. 2, " his ory," read 
" history/' P. 272, 1. 13, " mid-third," delete the hyphen. P. 300, 
1. 16, second word, read " Huns'/' P. 367, " Dreams," second line, 
"Drolls" should form a new heading. P. 389, "Kittredge, 
" Brema " read " Bremo." P. 431, Warwick, 1. 5, delete the second 
reference " ii, 218." 


Smith College. 

Old English Ballads, 1553-1625. By HYDER E. ROLLINS. Cam- 
bridge University Press, 1920. 

Dr. Rollins's book suggests comparison with the Shirburn 
Ballads, so admirably edited by Andrew Clark in 1907. The Shir- 
burn ballads are a MS. collection copied down from broadside issues 
about the beginning of the seventeenth century, many of them 
being still in existence in later black-letter print in the great collec- 
tions reprinted by the Ballad Society. The interest of the Shirburn 
MS. is not in the uniqueness or even in the novelty of its contents 
(tho many of the ballads in it are not preserved elsewhere), but in 
its antiquity it is some half -century older than most of the prints 
reproduced by the Ballad Society and still more in its being a 
representative manuscript ~ballad book an early specimen of a kind 
of compilation of which Percy's Folio MS. is the most famous 
exemplar, and which still nourishes among simple folk. DT. 
Rollins's seventy-five items, on the other hand, are drawn from a 
variety of sources; a dozen of them are from unique early broad- 
sides, twenty-three are from MS. Sloane 1896, twenty-nine from 
MS. Add. 15225 (both of these are in the British Museum), and 
the remaining eleven from nine different MSS. With few excep- 
tions, they are preserved only in the print or MS. from which he 
draws them and have not been reprinted by modern ballad-students. 
They thus add a good deal to the available material for the study 
of trivial poetry (as Gay might have called it) in the sixteenth and 


seventeenth centuries. MS. Sloan 1896 is a distinctly Protestant 
collection of poems made in the third quarter of the sixteenth 
century. MS. Add. 15225 (which is reprinted in its entirety except 
for four pieces which are known elsewhere) is as distinctly a Cath- 
olic compilation, made about 1616. It is of great value as illus- 
trating the temper of English Catholics in the opening years of the 
seventeenth century. Both Protestant and Catholic compiler show 
a strong preference for poems of edification. The Catholic Ms. is 
especially noteworthy for its devotional fervor, its steadfastness 
under persecution, and its freedom from vituperation altho it has 
one piece, unmatched elsewhere, pouring contempt upon the sen- 
suality and hypocrisy of puritans. 

The word * ballad/ despite the labors of critics in the last 
hundred and fifty years, seems still to be as inclusive as it was 
three centuries ago. Not one of these Old English Ballads has the 
slightest connection in style or content with the ' traditional popular 
ballad.' A scant seven are really narrative: one on Somerset's 
attempt to prevent the sucession of Mary Tudor, four on execu- 
tions, under Mary, Elizabeth, or James, of religious recusants, one 
versification of part of the book of Tobit, and one exemplum (not 
from current journalism) of the fate of the faithless retainer. 
There are two ' goodnigHts/ one of them of Anne Saunders (not 
hitherto reprinted), whose crime is dramatized in A Warning for 
Fair Women; but neither is really narrative. There is a humorous 
account of the triumphs of Good Ale over all comers, in alphabetical 
order. There are three pieces, rather celebrations than narratives, 
on the Gunpowder Plot. For the rest, they are reflective poems, 
occasionally gallant or amorous, occasionally satirical, but for the 
most part hortatory, moralizing, or (especially in the Catholic MS. 
Add. 15225) devoutly and personally religious. Some of them, 
both in the Protestant and the Catholic MS., have no more sugges- 
tion of the ballad-hawker than have the utterances of devotional 
aspiration in Vaughan's Silex Scintillans. One is impelled to raise 
the question, By what test are the contents of these two MSS. 
adjudged to be, even in the most liberal sense, ballads? In this 
most liberal sense a ballad is a poem composed for the broadside 
press and intended to be chanted or sung. As Dr. Eollins himself 
has pointed out (PMLA, xxxiv, 312), 'the tune was always 
specifically named along with the title ' in printed ballads ; and, in 
substance, it is the fact of broadside issue that determines a poem 


to be a ballad. Some twenty-seven of the poems in the Shirburn 
MS. are still extant in black-letter broadsides, and the rest are so 
similar in quality that we may confidently assume a like source for 
all of them. The same is true of the poems in MS. Eawlinson Poet. 
185, from which Clark printed nine pieces as appendix to his 
Shirburn Ballads, and Rollins prints three more. But none of the 
pieces from the Sloane MS. is preserved elsewhere, and only two 
of those from MS. Add. 15225 are extant as broadsides. Ballad 
print, to be sure, is notoriously emphemeral, and the lack of extant 
broadsides is in itself of little weight. Supplementary evidence 
may be drawn from the Stationers' Registers. Dr. Rollins identifies 
three of the pieces given from the Sloane MS. with ballad entries 
in the Register, and four of those from the Add. MS. Others 
(four from the Sloane MS., three from MS. Add. 15225) are less 
confidently identified with entries in the Register. Turning to the 
other test, the indication of the tune, it should be borne in mind 
that seventy of the eighty poems in the Shirburn MS. have the 
tune to which they are to be sung named in the MS. In the Sloane 
MS. the tune is never indicated. In the Add. MS. the tune is given 
for four of the pieces and place made for it (but left blank) in two 
others ; the rest are without this evidence of broadside origin. The 
absence of the word e ballad ' in the title is of course of little weight ; 
broadside ballads are entitled ' laments/ ' warnings/ ( complaints/ 
' ditties/ or ' songs ' only less frequently than ' ballads ' ; yet it is 
probably significant that only one of the pieces from the Add. MS. 
is described in its title as a ' ballad ' (nine are ' songs ' ; the rest 
are generally without title), and only one of those from the Sloane 
MS. In the Shirburn MS. twenty-seven are entitled 'ballads/ six 
are e lamentations/ six ' ditties/ five ' complaints/ four ' warnings/ 
four ' songs/ two e sonnets/ one an ' epitaph/ and one a ' jig/ And 
if by none of these external marks they are determined to have had 
or to have been intended for circulation as broadsides, it is hard to 
see any internal evidence of such a destination in exalted lyrics of 
the inner life like those beginning ' blessed God, saviour 
sweete, Jesu, looke on mee ! ' and ' Calvarie mount is my delight, 
a place I love so well ; Calvarfe mount, that I might deserve on 
thee to dwell ! ' 

But it would be a brave man that undertook to say what kind of 
poetry may not have got into ballad print provided it was not too 


long to be contained on a broadside ; nor is it probably a question of 
any importance except to those who wish to give the word ' ballad ' 
a more definite denotation than it yet appears to possess. By what- 
ever name they should be called, these poems are a most welcome 
addition to our store of fugitive poetry from the days of Mary, 
Elizabeth, and James, welcome both to the literary and to the 
social historian. One of them in particular is probably without a 
parallel in or outside of printed balladry the ( ballad concernynge 
the death of mr. Eobart glover [who was burned in the persecution 
under Mary in 1555], wrytone to maystrys marye glover, his wyf, 
of a frend of hers ' (MS. Stowe 958, B. M.). It is in the main a 
typical street ballad of the pious, hortatory type, describing for the 
edification of its hearers the exemplary life and teachings, the 
arrest, trial, and execution of Robert Glover ; but it is not the work 
of the impersonal professional journalist. Its author, Robert Bott, 
is a friend of Glover's wife, whom he addresses in the ballad as 
' my dear Mary/ and godfather to Glover's youngest son ; and the 
ballad closes in the style of a personal letter to the widow adjuring 
her to ' forgett not .that same chylde, Tymothye glover, yonge in 
age, . . . Beinge the yongest of them all, also my god-sonne dear/ 
Nowhere else, probably, is journalistic balladry combined with the 
personal letter of condolence. Scarcely less noteworthy is the long, 
detailed, realistic ballad on the Catholic martyr Thewlis, who was 
hanged, drawn, and quartered at Lancaster in 1616. 

And one thing more of interest, this time, to students of tradi- 
tional balladry. From MS. Rawlinson Poet. 185 (dating from 
about 1592) Dr. Rollins prints a lover's lament, ' A verie pretie 
soimge. To the Tune of Holbinolle and John a Side/ Before 
1600, then, this finest of border ballads (Cfiild 187) was so well 
known that it gave name to a tune for a street ballad ! 


University of Missouri. 


The life of the scholar, equally with that of the business man and 
of every other individual who is striving to keep afloat in the 
current of twentieth-century progress, has been gaining a tremen- 
dous momentum during the past two decades. And the problems 
that come to the scholar of today, like those confronting the busi- 
ness man and the general educator, deal more and more with the 
concentration and conservation of energy in the handling of his 
work. Not only are scholarly methods receiving their share of the 
general scrutiny resultant from the present movement for greater 
efficiency, but the scholar himself is increasingly impressed with 
the fact that older methods of scholarly research are gradually 
becoming inadequate. 

While the older scholar has developed step by step with the 
growth of the Oxford Dictionary, the Publications of the Early 
English Text Society, Englische Studien, Anglia, Modern Language 
Notes, and similar accomplishments of organized effort in the field 
of English scholarship, and while he has appraised the scholarship 
of contemporary workers in English as he has read their publica- 
tions and exchanged reprints with them, acquiring thru a long 
period of years, by what might be termed the natural process, a 
wide and detailed bibliographical knowledge of the field, the 
younger man, coming to scholarly maturity within recent years, 
has no such wealth of experience to keep him afloat in the rapidly 
increasing current, but instead is confronted with long shelves of 
rich accumulations in almost any part of the field he may choose 
to enter. Not a few of the series of publications have attained to 
scores of volumes, some to hundreds even, and the names of the 
scholars who should be familiar to the student are many. Yet, if 
he wishes to be regarded as an authority on any subject, he must 
not overlook anything of importance that has been said about it. 
For not only should he have all available help in working out 
original contributions to the general fund of knowledge, but we are 
growing less and less tolerant of duplication, of mere restatement 
of that which has been said already. 

And so it is forced upon him almost at the outset that he must 
acquire some well-organized and systematic method of attaining 
to a maximum knowledge of his materials in a minimum of time. 
He has so much to keep pace with in the present that he cannot 
make as deliberate a survey of the field as one could even two or 
three decades ago. 



It was the gradual realization on my part, some eight or ten 
years ago, of the need of a thorogoing index to the materials avail- 
able for the study of the English language and the earlier literature 
that led me to discard my earlier haphazard method of gathering 
information and to begin a card-bibliography of the field. During 
the years that I have been compiling this bibliography from the 
various Jahresberichte and Jahresverzeichnisse, from earlier books 
and periodicals, and from the scholarly output since the war began, 
it has grown to tens of thousands of slips, and has become so useful 
both to myself and to others who have had access to it that I have 
become convinced of the desirability of publishing a part of it as 
a Bibliography of the English Language. 

Consequently I have been working for some time at the verifica- 
tion and transcription of my slip-titles, hoping that within the next 
two oi 1 three years I may be able to complete the copy for the 
printer. Because of the careful and exacting labor involved in the 
verification of the multiplicity of details relating to names, dates, 
volume and page numbering, etc.. I have hesitated to go far before 
placing the project before those who are likely to be most concerned 
about it. For not only should I not like to duplicate the work of 
someone else who may be working at the same kind of bibliography, 
but even if the field is entirely clear, I feel that such a bibliography 
would be of so general usefulness, if properly done, that it should 
be regarded as the common property of all students of the English 
language, both in its earlier stages of preparation and as a com- 
pleted volume on the scholar's desk. 

As I have planned the volume and I should guess that it would 
be a fat one. or possibly two. tho I have not yet been able to measure 
the material very exactly the contents would be about as follows : 

I. General collections, including bibliographical guides, periodicals, 

series of studies, series of books, and general miscellanies. 
II. History of the study of the English language. 
III. English paleography. 

IV. Comparative studies (e. g. English and German). 
V. Old English. 
VI. Middle English. 

VI'I. Modern English (to about 1900 A. D.) 
VIII. 'Current tendencies in English. 

IX. General and historical works on the English language. 
X. Theory and method of the study and teaching of English. 
Index of authors and reviewers. 

Numerous problems arise at the very outset in the planning of 
such a bibliography. It is not easy to decide just how far such a 
collection should outline the history of English philology while 
attempting, on the other hand, to meet the needs of those who desire 
only the most up-to-date and usable presentations of given topics. 
Inasmuch as such a piece of work, if properly done in the first place, 
is not likely to be duplicated and indeed should obviate all necessity 
for duplication, except for an occasional re-edition or supplement 


intended to strengthen and extend it, there is little likelihood that 
anyone else would feel impelled to go extensively into the gathering 
up of certain bibliographical data in this field which would be of 
historical value only. And so I have planned to take cognizance 
of all works on the English language except stylistic, rhetorical, 
and the more superficial pedagogical studies published since 
about 1800 A. D. 

This is, I realize, a very ambitious plan; but I have gone even 
farther in hoping that I may be able to condense into Section II 
all the important publications on the English language prior to 
1800 which would interest the historian of the language. And by 
the historian I mean not merely the student who is turning over 
old things for the pure love of examining them, but even more the 
sincere advocate of reform in nomenclature and spelling and in 
methods of presenting the study of the language who is striving to 
build his reforms more intelligently upon a thoro knowledge of 
the work already done by past generations. 

Consequently I would make all lists chronological in order that 
the more superficial student can begin with the most recent study 
and hunt back until he finds what he wants, while the historically 
minded can go at once to the earliest and follow his subject down 
to the present. 

Because of a belief that we shall pay increasing attention during 
the next few decades to the philological careers of men some of 
whom have but recently passed away, I am ambitious to give very 
full lists of reviews in smaller type immediately after the titles of 
works reviewed. Such reviews are likely to prove useful in a number 
of ways, I believe. There is no denying that some of them offer 
almost as much scholarly meat as the books they discuss. But even 
tho others do not give much except general estimates, they are 
likely, none the less, to aid the scholar stranded in some out-of-the- 
way place in avoiding the useless when he buys or orders material 
for his work. And, finally, the historian of recent English philology 
cannot afford to ignore the review in his study of scholarly tenden- 
cies and opinions. 

I hope to keep the classification of material so simple that a table 
of contents will suffice and no subject-index will be necessary. I 
have planned, therefore, to make the subdivisions of Section? V 
to IX as nearly identical as possible, listing in the same order in 
each of these sections general works, studies of phonology and 
orthography, derivation and classification of words, inflection, 
syntax, semasiology, and miscellaneous studies. But I also expect 
to make a very complete author-index which will make more easy 
an estimate of the work of each scholar in the field. 

A free use of cross-references seems desirable. I shall also offer 
a certain amount of guidance thru the use of asterisks placed before 
titles of works of importance, as well as a fairly generous amount of 
annotation. But on the whole the liberal citation of reviews should 


obviate the need of much annotation, especially since the important 
thing is, after all, the accurate compilation and intelligent classi- 
fication of fairly complete lists of titles which the scholar can 
follow up as he may see fit. 

If there is generally felt to be a need for such a bibliography, 
and if the advantage which my present bibliographical collection 
gives me in undertaking the task justify me in pursuing it with 
ardor, I trust that I may appeal to the interest of others who are 
working in this field, and that I may command their advice or 
criticism before the work shall have gone too far toward completion. 
For to a very unusual degree such a book should present hot merely 
the ideas and mental habits of the author, but as far as possible 
the best response to actual needs of many students of the English 


Stanford University. 


The various editors have no note ; Skeat in his Index of Proper 
Names says merely: "the Bell, an inn/' When one looks care- 
fully for a Southwark inn called the Bell, one finds at first an 
embarrassment of riches. Rendle and Norman, The Inns of Old 
Southwark., London,. 1888, list half a dozen or more in the index, 
and thus it becomes a problem to single out the particular Bell 
which Chaucer referred to. 

(1) John Taylor, the' Water Poet, in his Travels and Circular 
Perambulation among the taverns of England, (London, 1636) x 
names nine Bell's, among them the "Bell at Saint Thomas in 
Southwarke " (p. 19). This would be presumably an inn connected 
with the Hospital of St. Thomas a Watering, on the eastern side of 
Borough High street, about half way between thd end of London 
Bridge and the Talbot (Tabard) inn. 

(2) A trade token of the seventeenth century bears witness to 
the existence of a Bell tavern in Bear Alley, Bridgfoot, Southwark. 2 
This Bear Alley is distinctly marked very near the end of the 
Bridge on a map v of about 1542. 3 

(3) Rendle and Norman mention, p. 316, without citation of 
evidence, a Bell alehouse in 1723 in Montague Close (which is at 
the northwest corner of St. Mary Overy) . 

(4) In 1723 there was still a Bell in Clink street, 4 and this is 

1 Spenser Society, vol. xix, 1876. 

1 Rendle and Norman, p. 315. 

1 Frontispiece to Rendle's Old Southward and Its People, London, 1878. 

* Rendle and Norman, p. 316. 


probably the same as that given in the token book of 1596 as the 
residence of Philip Henslow : " The Bell, near Horse Shoe Alky." 
For in the Memoirs of Edward Alleyn* there is a letter dated 1593 
showing that Henslow lived " on the bank sid right over against 
the clink/' that is, opposite the noted Clink gaol, close beside 
Winchester House. 

(6) Without alleging any reason, Rendle and Norman identify 
Chaucer's Bell with one which " happily our ingenious Eoque " 
showed in his 1746 map, a little farther down Borough High Street 
from the Talbot and on the opposite side. This Bell, however, 
seems to be inferred (perhaps rightly) from the Bell Yard, of 
which we have a sacramental token of about 1637, 6 and which 
appears on the map in John Strype's edition of Stow's Survey of 
London. 7 

(7) Further testimony of the existence of a Bell is given, again 
without citation of authority, in Rendle and Norman, p. 292: 
" In 1577 mention is made of one John Woodward of Southwark, 
who is the ' hoste ' of the Bell. . . . The Bell figures as an impor- 
tant landmark ' from the Bell, towards Waverley House.' ' ; 

(8) Finally, there is a Bell of ill repute mentioned by Stowe. 8 
Among the " houses most notable " in Southwark he names " The 
Tabard an Hosterie or Inne " and " The stewes on the Banke of 
Thames." These stews must have interested him, for he devoted 
to them nearly as much space as to St. Mary Overy (with the long 
note on Gower), and four times as much as to the Bishop of Win- 
chester's house and the Bishop of Rochester's house together. Next 
to -the Bear Gardens, he says, "was sometime the Bordello or 
stewes, a place so called, of certaine stew houses priuiledged there, 
for the repaire of incontinent men to the like women, of the which 
priuiledge I have read thus." Follow a dozen rules and regula- 
tions from the licence granted under Henry II, confirmed in 1345 
under Richard II (when the houses were owned by the mayor of 
London), and on down to Henry VII's time. It was not until 
1546 that they were " put down." " These allowed stewhouses," 
continues Stow, " had signes on their fronts, towards the Thames, 
not hanged out, but painted on the walles, as a Boares heade, the 
Crosse keyes, the Gunne, the Castle, the Crane, the Cardinals Hat, 
the Bel, the Swanne, &c." 

Of these Bell taverns just listed, only two, (4) and (8), are 
known to have existed before 1600. The others testify to the cele- 
brity of St. Saviour's chimes, but they may properly be disregarded 
in a search for the fourteenth-century Bell. Something might be 

Shakespeare Society (1841), p. 25. 
9 Rendle and Norman, p. 293. 

'London, 1720, n, opposite p. 27. This map is certainly the source of 
our ingenious Roque's information. 
8 Ed." C. L. Kingsford, Oxford, 1908, n, 53, 54, 55. 


claimed, of course, for the Bell Yard, because it is so close to\ the 
Tabard; but beyond its propinquity there is no evidence. It is 
possible, moreover, and even somewhat probable, that the (reno- 
vated) Bell in which Henslow lived " right over against the Clink " 
is the same Bell which before 1546 had been a disreputable stew- 
house. For Stow distinctly says that the stews were next to the 
Clink prison. To be sure, nothing in Stow implies that the Bell 
was the most easterly of the houses (although it is next to the last 
in his list) ; and the 1542 view of London by Wyngaerde shows a 
slight empty space between Winchester house and the stews. But 
it is at the least an odd coincidence that there should have been 
if there were two Bell's so close together in Stow's and Henslow's 

The search has thus narrowed apparently to one (or two) inns 
of the late sixteenth century. But from 1593 to 1387 is a long 
leap in the dark. We can say only that here on the Bankside had 
existed notorious brothels since before Chaucer's day, and among 
them there was a house known to Stow (who was born in 1525) as 
the Bell. To claim that since there was a Bell near the Clink in 
1593 and also a brothel by that name somewhat earlier, therefore a 
century and a half or more earlier the Bell in Southwark was a 
famous resort for incontinent men and the like women, would be 
altogether unwarrantable. But if such were the fact, imagine the 
twinkle in Chaucer's eye when he wrote that 

. . . assembled was this companye 
At *Southwerk, at this gentil hostelrye 
That highte the Tabard, faste by the Belle. 

The Knight, the Squire, Lady Eglantine, the Monk, and certain 
others would enjoy Harry Bailey's hospitality at the Tabard; the 
Cook, the Reeve, the Miller, and certain others may patronize the 
Bell also it's not far away ! 


Cambridge, Mass. 


Criticism has traditionally seen in the first stanza of the Proem 
to Book iv of the Faerie Queene a reference to censure from Lord 
Burleigh : 

The rugged forehead that with grave foresight 
Welds kingdoms, causes, and affaires of state, 
My looser rimes (I wote) doth sharply wite, 
For praising love, as I have done of late, 

*See for the stanzas Smith, J. C., Faerie Queene, Oxford, 1909, Books 
i-in, pp. 517-318. 


And magnifying lovers dear debate; 

By which frail youth is oft to follie led. 

Through false allurement of that pleasing baite, 

That better were in virtues discipled 

Then with vaine poemes weeds to have their fancies fed. 

Burleigh's displeasure has sometimes 2 been connected with the 
first writing of the Hymn in Honor of Love, printed in the 1596 
edition of the Fowre Hymnes. with an apologetic dedication in 
which Spenser regrets the moral tenor of the first two. 

P. W. Long, who dates the first Hymn at 1590, 3 detecting there 
a possibility of sensuous interpretation to a reader ignorant of 
Platonic fashions, says of the reference under discussion : " The 
allusion refers to some poems regarded at some time between 1590- 
1596 as having been written ' of late/ To what other ' loose rimes ' 
or ' vaine poemes ' can the stanza refer ? " 

But Faerie Queene, Part i. Books i, n, m, 1590, has since 
Burleigh's time received a like criticism from perhaps less squeam- 
ish critics than Burleigh. 4 

The object of the present note is to suggest a special passage 
which might have come under Burleigh's attention, the original 
ending of Book m, 1590, which described the rapturous reunion 
of Scudamour and Amoret. 

At least here might be a more likely occasion for Burleigh's ire 
than a Platonic Hymn. We have long ceased to take seriously 
Spenser's repentance in the dedicatory epistle 5 to the Hymns. Dr. 
Long 6 points out in some passages a " feigning " for the sake of 
Neo-Platonic decorum, to suit the 'antithesis between the earlier 
and later Hymns. The literary retractation too has been recognized 
as a convention. 7 At any rate, even if we could take Spenser at 
his word, it would be hard to recapture a really Puritanic point of 
view toward the Hymn in Honor of Love. 

But the stanzas of Faerie Queene m, end, 1590, are frankly 
sensuous, boldly amorous, stanzas which must have been dear to 
the poet of the Epithalamion. not to be sacrificed without reason. 
Their excision has usually been explained as a necessity of struc- 
ture. 8 Spenser, returning to the Faerie Queene with the problem 
of Book iv before him, had further use for the separation of 
Scudamour and Amoret. He altered therefore the end of Book in, 

2 See Buck, P. O., Mod. Lang. Ass. Pub., 23, p. 98. 

3 Englische Studien, 47, pp. 197-208. 

* See for instance Jusserand, J. J., A Literary History of the English 
People, 2d ed., 1910, vol. n, p. 497. 

' Fletcher, J. W., Mod. Lang. Ass. Pub., 26, 452. 

Op. cit., p. 199. 

'' Tatlock, Mod. Lang. Ass. Pub., 28, p. 521. 

" For some statement of the discussion, see Erskine, J., Mod. Lang. Ass. 
Pub., 30, p. 83. 


that the lovers might just miss each other in the teasing way of 
romantic epic. 

That Spenser did make a larger use of the Amoret theme than 
he had at first intended, seems obvious. He kept it at the expense 
of order and clarity, allowing the narrative to double on itself to 
introduce the Temple of Venus. He plainly needed Amoret. The 
excision, however, at the end of Book in was unnecessary in order 
to keep her. Amoret resumes her wanderings, only after a 
romantic episode to be lost again. She might as well have been 
lost by Scudamour as by Britomart, unless we can persuade our- 
selves that there is important allegorical need for her brief com- 
panionship just at this point with Britomart. 9 

More specifically, Spenser fails to introduce the rejected stanzas 
later when he has desperate need of them, toward the end of Book 
iv, after TV, 9, 39, perhaps. 10 At last the/ several ways of Amoret 
and Scudamour draw together; there is again occasion for the 
rapturous greeting; but Scudamour entirely neglects to perceive 
Amoret. In this passage we have the worst loose end in the Faerie 
Queene, though Spenser had, ready made, the perfect finish. He 
must have had the fine stanzas in memory ; certainly in print. But 
he failed to use them, careful man as he w r as in the salvage of old 
material. 11 Is it possible that he is still fearing of contemptuously 
obeying the frown of the " rugged brow " ? 

To the present guess there is of course the objection that the 
preface to Book rv may have been written so near the date of 
publication, 1596, that poems printed in 1590 could hardly have 
been called "of late." Burleigh's criticism would apply, how- 
ever, as rightly to the Faerie Queene of 1590 as to a Platonic 
Hymn, of the same date if Dr. Long is right about the year, or 
earlier by other judgments. 12 It seems natural at least that 
Spenser, smarting from attack, and resentful at about this time for 
other reasons, 13 began the second part of the Faerie Queene with 
this frank appeal against his enemy, and left it unchanged, as 
appropriate still in 1596. 


Wellesley College. 

' Op. cit. Prof. Erskine includes the episode in his interpretation of the 
friendship allegory. 

18 See Upton's comment, Todd, Works of Edmund Spenser, 1805, vol. v, 
p. 338. 

11 See for instance Randison, H. K, Pub. Mod. Lang. Ass., 25, p. 150. 

11 See Winstanley, L., Spenser's Fowre Hymnes, Cambridge, 1907, p. 11; 
Fletcher, J. B., Mod. Lang. Ass. Pub., 26, p. 452. There is no evidence to 
show that Burleigh would have seen in manuscript the passage of the 
Faerie Queene under discussion. See Smith, J. C., op. cit., pp. xi-xii. 

M See Long, P. W., op. cit., p. 207. 


THE DATE or Tumble-Down Dick 

It is somewhat strange, in the light of all the evidence obtainable 
on the first performance and publication of Fielding's burlesque 
Tumble-Down Dick; or, Phaeton in the Suds, to find so many 
errors concerning its date. So numerous are they that it would 
seem important to call attention to them. Two dates, both wrong, 
are continually bobbing up, either in editions of Fielding's plays 
or in books which list them. These dates are 1737 and 1744. The 
error is found as early as 1756 in Dodsley's Theatrical Records, 
which assigns the play to 1744. In 1762 appeared Millar's edition 
of Fielding, and the title page of Tumble-Down Dick bears these 
words : " First Acted in 1744." Succeeding editions have copied 
this error; Henley notes, for example, that Roscoe, in 1840, gives 
the date as 1744. Baker's Biographia Dramatica (1782) gives 
1744. The New Theatrical Dictionary (1792) says 1737, as do 
the Thespian Dictionary (1802) and Oulton's The Drama Recorded 
(1814). Lawrence, in his Life of Fielding (1855, p. 376), says 
1737, and Lindner (Fieldings Dramatische Werlce, 1895, p. 122) 
follows Lawrence in asserting that 1737 is correct. Henley, in his 
edition of Fielding (1903), gives the date of the first edition of 
Tumble-Down Dick as either 1737 or 1744. He notes that the 
earliest copy in the British Museum is the edition of 1744. The 
Stage Cyclopaedia (1909) says 1737. Godden (Henry Fielding, 
1910), in her bibliography of Fielding's works, says that Tumble- 
Down Dick belongs to 1744. Dobson (Fielding, 1911) assigns the 
play to 1737, and the Cambridge History of English Literature 
(vol. 10, 1913), in the Fielding bibliography following chapter 
two, gives the first edition as belonging to 1737. 

Yet, in spite of the foregoing array of figures, the correct date 
is 1736. Pritchard's The Fall of Phaeton, which Fielding follows 
very closely in his burlesque, was published in March, 1736. 1 On 
April 2 Aaron Hill said in the Prompter: " I am told that Pasquin 
is preparing to attack Pantomime, and is to begin with the Fall of 
Phaeton." Fielding's Pasquin. which began its famous run at the 
New Theatre in the Haymarket on March 5, was by this time the 
talk of the town. 2 The fortieth performance of Pasquin was adver- 
tised in the London Daily Post and General Advertiser of April 21 
for the night of April 28, " To which will be added . . . Tumble- 
Down Dick." The same advertisement appeared on April 22, 24, 
and 26, during a break in the run of Pasquin. On April 27, how- 
eve^ the fortieth performance of Pasquin was advertised for that 

1 London Magazine, \, 164. 

2 See letter from Mrs. Pendarvis to Dr. Swift, April 22, 1736, in The 
Autobiography and Correspondence of Mary Granville, Mrs. Delaney. Lon- 
don: 1861. I, 554. 


night with the following additional statement : " Tomorrow will 
be added (never performed before) . . . Tumble-Down Dick." The 
first performance of Tumble-Down Dick was not given on April 28, 
however. On Wednesday, April 28, the advertisement of " The 
Forty-First Day " of Pasquin in the London Daily Post . read, 
" Tomorrow, April 29, will be presented," etc., and ended with this 
paragraph : " The Company being engaged in the Practice of the 
Entertainment, and by reason of the Royal Wedding, 3 expecting 
no Company but themselves, are obliged to defer playing 'till 
To-morrow." On Thursday, April 29, the same advertisement of 
" The Forty-First Day " appeared, but the date of the performance 
was given as " this Day, April 29." On the twenty-ninth of April, 
then, immediately following the forty-first performance of Pasquin, 
came the first of twenty-one performances of Tumble-Down Dick, 
furnishing, curiously enough, the customary afterpiece or enter- 
tainment (with pantomime) which it was intended to satirize. 
Although published separately, it became in its acted form an 
integral part of Pasquin, and joined without a break the rehearsal 
plot of the more famous play. I have shown elsewhere how closely 
Fielding followed Pritchard in writing his burlesque. 

When Pasquin was published on April 8, 1736, Watts advertised 
underneath the Dramatis Personae : " Shortly will be published 
Tumble-Down Dick, or Phaeton in the Suds, a serious Pantomime, 
now practising at the Haymarket Theatre." It was not actually 
produced, as we have seen, until April 29. On the same day came 
its publication, for Watts advertised it in the Evening-Post (No. 
1319) for Thursday, April 29-Saturday, May 1, 1736, as "this 
Day publish'd." This first edition is exceedingly rare ; in fact, the 
only copy which I know of is the one which belonged to John 
Genest, and which may now be found in the Dickson collection in 
the library of Yale University. 


The University of Minnesota. 


In this centenary year of the publication of the first complete 
edition of The Poetical Works of John Trumbull (Hartford, 1820), 
it may be of interest to point out a curious parallel that I have not 
seen mentioned hitherto. The likeness between TrmnbulFs The 
Progress of Dulness, Part i (1772) and Thomas Warton's The 
Progress of Discontent (1746) is not confined to the similarity in 

s This royal wedding which gave the Great Mogul's Company additional 
time in which to rehearse Tumble-Down Dick was the marriage of Fred- 
erick, Prince of Wales, to Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha. 


title, nor to the octosyllabic couplets which they have in common, 
but there is analogy in spirit and content as well. Both are satires 
on college life: Warton's on Oxford, Trumbull's on Yale. Both 
begin with the bringing to college of the son who in the eyes of the 
father has attainments that merit further cultivation. In each the 
son rebels against the harshness of the rules, thinks of breaking 
them, but loves ease too much, and in the end finds " the dulness of 
a college " no place " to waste his whole age." As a relief from the 
tedium of Horace and Homer, or Virgil and Tully, Warton's young 
intellectual settles amid the fields surrounding a Popean estate 
where at length he " commences country parson " while Trumbull's 

To teach a school at first and then to preach 

but eventually he also 

fixes down for life, in some unsettled town, 


Vast tracts of unknown land he gains. 

While it is true that there is an un-English quality in the facts 
that TrumbulPs poem unquestionably draws from the atmosphere 
of New Haven, yet the attitude toward life is one which prevailed 
in the British light-essayists from Addison on. In view of the fact 
that the imitative young New Englander had matched classical 
tributes with Biblical paraphrases after the fashion of Watts, had 
done two fables like Gay, given "Advice to Ladies of a Certain 
Age " like a true Englishman of the century, had written an elegy 
on his friend, St. John, in the manner of the " graveyard poets," 
and had bid his contemporaries 

their lays with lofty Milton vie; 
And shine with Pope, with Thompson and with Young * 

may it not be likely that he derived inspiration from Warton's poem 
published twenty-six years before and that he was so pleased with 
the theme that he added a second and a third part ? 


University of Illinois. 

Prospect of the Future Glory of America (1770), p. 3. 



Walter Savage Landor told John Forster, his biographer, that 
the source of his youthful epic, Oebir, was a work published in 
1785 called The Progress of Romance, through times, countries, and 
manners, with remarks on the good and bad effects of them respec- 
tively, in a course of Evening Conversations. Miss Reeve states 
in her Preface to this work that her story came in turn from the 
French translation made by M. Pierre Vattier of an Arabian manu- 
script by Murtada ibn al Khafif, found in the Mazarin Library. 
In his bibliography of Gebir in the collected works of Landor Mr. 
Charles George Crump expresses doubt that Miss Reeve saw this 
French translation, thinking it possible that she knew the trans- 
lation of the manuscript made in 1672 by John Davies, a volu- 
minous translator. Mr. Crump had not seen the English transla- 
tion. However, a comparison, which I have just completed, between 
Davies' translation and Miss Reeve's tale indicates the improbability 
that Miss Reeve knew Davies' translation, and the probability that 
she translated M. Vattier's French freely, adapting the story to her 
own ends. Not only does Miss Reeve omit various episodes included 
by Davies, such as, "the figure of an Ichneumon . . . made of 
Gold," and additional details concerning the death of Gebir, but 
she never once uses the phraseology of Davies, or details which 
could be precisely attributed to him. It is reasonably certain, then, 
that the order of development of the story of Gebir was not through 
Davies, but as follows : The Arabian manuscript, M. Vattier's trans- 
lation, the last story in Miss Reeve's Progress of Romance, and then 
Landor's epic. The legend, as a part of English poetry, ends with 
the imitations of Lan dor's Gebir, William Sotheby's Saul (1802), 
and Sergeant Rough's Conspiracy of Gowrie. written at about the 
same time. 


Tale University. 


The Influence of Christianity on the Vocabulary of Old English 
Poetry. By Albert Keiser (University of Illinois Studies in Lan- 
guage and Literature. Vol. v, Nos. 1, 2, 1919). Two decades ago 
the import of this subject was expounded by Dr. H. S. MacGillivray 
(Studien zur englischen Philologie, vin), who in his turn was 
guided by Karl Weinhold, R. von Raumer, and Bernhard Kahle. 
These scholars had studied Gothic, Old High German, and Old 
Norse respectively with reference to the same ' Influence,' and Dr. 
MacGillivray derived from them not only the conception of the 


problem as a whole but also a method for classifying the material. 
This method has been readopted, or continued, by Dr. Reiser, who 
in a sense has completed the work begun by Dr. MacGillivray. Of 
these two investigators the earlier attempted to survey the entire 
literature, prose and poetry, but unfortunaely he encumbered his 
material with details so profuse as to compel him to restrict his pub- 
lication to merely one-third of what his plan embraced. " No con- 
tinuation has ever appeared," writes Dr. Reiser, and adds that in 
a letter to him (Dec. 2, 1916) Dr. MacGillivray "states that certain 
circumstances had led to ' the complete shipwreck of my hopes for 
the completion of my book/ His consent to take up the work was 

The Anglo-Saxon (Old English) member of the group of studies 
begun by von Raumer has therefore been the special concern of two 
authors. It is important to keep in mind that the publications of 
these two authors constitute a peculiar whole. Restricting his ob- 
servations to the poetry and adopting a more concise method of 
presentation, Dr. Reiser has been able to traverse all the approved 
divisions of the subject within the printed space required by Dr. 
MacGillivray's initial chapters. But this resultant completeness 
does not annul the value of the earlier and incomplete study; it 
rather heightens the importance of regarding both prose and poetry, 
and it compels the recognition of the relation of the two studies to 
each other in combining to make a ' peculiar whole/ In this con- 
nection should be mentioned Die kirchlichen und speziell wissen- 
schaftlichen romanischen Lehnworte Chaucers, von Hans Remus 
(Studien zur engl. Philologie, xiv, 1906), which in time falls 
between the two studies under consideration and is to be collated 
with them especially with reference to the discussion of the cul- 
tural history of Earlv England so far as it is pertinent to the 
adoption of new words. 

Dr. Reiser's (R) first three chapters (pp. 16-36) correspond 
(without change of titles) to Dr. MacGillivray 's (M) four chap- 
ters (pp. 1-147). The whole number of chapters in R is twelve 
(pp. 16-131). So far as the overlapping of the two studies reaches, 
R has many references to M to compensate for the briefer method 
of presentation and for the exclusion of the prose-words. The pur- 
suit of these references will always be well rewarded. Thus, the 
excellent judgment of R touching the disputed question of the 
original use of haffien will be more fully appreciated after consider- 
ing what the reference to M discloses. Be it observed that M and 
R do not agree with the NED. On the other hand the extraordi- 
narily valuable article church in the NED. is accepted as the basis 
for the discussion of cirice by both M and R ; and again there is a 
computable disadvantage in not reading both. That these two 
studies in details of discussion thus supplement each other within 
the limits of the designated chapters as well as in the range of 


observation (prose and poetry) is sufficiently stressed by the cross- 
references in K's foot-notes. 

Several words from these studies may be selected for comment. 
M. records ce-swica, e-swica (pp. 13, 17), and interprets the prefix 
as the equivalent of Goth. us-. In agreement with this view Mr. 
Toller in his Supplement has deleted \ce, 'law']. But one may 
hold that the rejected view has not been conclusively set aside. Why 
the Pater Noster is palm-twigged is not explained by K (p. 49). 
A suggestion has been made by Dr. von Vincenti (Miinchener Bei- 
trdge zur rom. u. engl. Phil, xxxr, 25; see also pp. 52, 56, 124). 
K agrees with Professor Tupper in finding designations of the com- 
munion-vessels in Riddles Nos. 49 and 60 ; and as is done in Toller's 
Die., he accepts (p. 98) as conclusive Professor Cook's happy sug-? 
gestion (MLN. iv, 129; see also xxi, 8) that Cynewulf coined the 
word synriist to translate ' rubigo peccati.' 

That the subject may so far as possible be viewed in its Ger- 
manic completeness, K has with advantage introduced numerous 
references to the cognate studies. For example, under the heading 
martyrs., he refers not only to M but also for OHG. to von Raumer 
and for ON. to Kahle. The references of this specific class added 
to those that indicate an industrious and judicious use of the vari- 
our writings listed in the bibliography prove the scholarly character 
of K's publication. Reverting to the martyrs, however, one must 
wish that the reference to M had been framed to remind the reader 
of the significant prose-word cyftere. But what is lost by the omis- 
sion of the prose-records is made more conspicuous in the contrast 
between M and K in the paragraphs relating to the designations of 
the apostles. The absence of leorningcniht from K's list will to 
many minds prove conclusively that the exclusion of prose from 
this study has resulted in most regrettable incompleteness at many 
points. Indeed to argue this view in the abstract would be to 
arrive at the same conclusion. Considering the prose of the Anglo- 
Saxon period from the Cura Pastoralis to the great homilist J^lfric, 
what ' literature ' could reflect more inevitably and more completely 
the ' Christian Influence ' on the language ? Pyose, not poetry, is 
primarily discursive, argumentative, persuasive, just the medium to 
express popular thought. Poetry does not systemtaize thought; 
for that one looks to prose. For an enumeration of the seven-fold 
gifts of the Spirit we do not look to Cynewulf s Christ (cf. Cook's 
ed., p. 137) but to the homilies and tracts of JElfric (see Forster, 
Anglia, xvi, 6, and Zimmermann there cited). So too for the 
heafod-leahtras, the 'Deadly Sins,' we turn to JElfric (Horn,, n, 
218; again see Forster, 1. c., p. 46). 

This notice of Dr. Reiser's monograph is somewhat belated and 
is therefore now primarily intended to make the work known to 
students who may not yet have become aware of it. Obviously, M 
and K should be bound up together into one convenient desk-book. 


In that form these two studies would prove so helpful that one 
cannot refrain from making this practical suggestion. Both studies 
meet the demands of a good hand-book in being well indexed and 
in citing contributory matter with utmost clearness and accuracy. 
An acknowledgment of the scholarly character of the two studies 
can hardly be made without being conscious of the regret that the 
desired (not a ' peculiar ') whole has not been achieved. What has 
been made clear by M and K is the need of a comprehensive and 
uniformly constructed treatise to embrace the complete reports of 
both prose and poetry ; and one would add the need of an incorpora- 
tion of what would be gained from a collation with the l cognate ' 
studies. Here is a plan for an attractive and highly-rewarding 
undertaking. j w B 

Charlemagne (The Distracted Emperor) Drame Elisabethan 
Anonyme. Edition critique avec Introduction et Notes. Par Franck 
L. Schoell. (Princeton University Press, 1920.) The anonymous 
play of Charlemagne, sixth in order of the collection of dramas 
included in Egerton Ms. 1994, was first printed in the late A. H. 
Bullen's first series of Old Plays (iii, 161-261; 1883), a collection 
which, though out of print and now commanding a high price, is 
of course known to all serious students of the drama. It is there- 
fore incorrect to hail Professor Schoell' s reprint as " a literary find 
of great importance," as one reviewer has done. On a first reading 
years ago three strong clues led me to Chapman as the author of 
the piece: (1) the emperor's devotion to his dead wife (cf. the 
Count St. Anne in Monsieur D'Olive) ; (2) the simile of the 
ravens who seize upon the carcass after flying disregardingly over 
spicy fields (cf. Chabot iv, i, 14 f.) ; and (3) the outcome of the La 
Busse sub-plot (cf. the curious expression in Chabot iv, i, 137-8: 
" The foolish net he wore / To hide his nakedness ") . Mr. Bullen, 
after suggesting and dismissing the possibility first of Tourneur's 
and then of Marston's authorship, came to hold that Chapman had 
a chief share in the play. Fleay, erratic as usual, suggested first 
Field and then Dekker. Professor Schoell has put the question of 
authorship beyond any further possibility of doubt by a convincing, 
indeed overwhelming, series of parallels in characterization, plot- 
development, technique, ideas, and vocabulary between Charle- 
magne and the various plays of the Chapman canon. (Can it be 
that this is the play which Professor Parrott, in the Preface to his 
edition of Chapman's Comedies, promises to rescue from anonymity, 
reclaim for Chapman, and include in the third and not yet pub- 
lished volume of his edition of Chapman's complete works ? Or is 
there yet another addition to the accepted list forthcoming?) 
Professor Schoell, by transcribing the play anew from the MS., has 
been able to correct a goodly number of misreadings in Bullen's 


editon. It is perhaps a pity that his special preoccupation with 
the problem of authorship has limited the scope of his commentary. 
The various interesting analogues to Charlemagne's love for his 
dead wife might well have been noted, especially those in The Duke 
of Milan and in The Second Maiden's Tragedy. Some readers, too, 
would have liked to be reminded of Burton's retelling of the same 
legend (Anat. Melan. Part 3, Sect. 2, Mem. 3, Subs. 5). The edi- 
tor has nothing new to offer with regard to La Busse's fulfillment 
of Charlemagne's fantastic conditions for the pardoning of Gane- 
lon, his note to the passage (v, iv, 40) being a mere translation of 
Hazlitt's note as cited by Parrott (Chabot TV, i, 136-7). One would 
like to have traced down the " vieille histoire " of the fisherman's 
daughter who arrayed herself in the fishing-net in order to comply 
with the " great lord's " command. One may add that the parallel 
with All Fools ii, i, 252, suggested by the editor, is a doubtful 
example. The foot-note at the bottom of page 114 belongs on page 
113; Mr. Bullen's initials should be "A. H." not "H. A." Pro- 
fessor Schoell is to be thanked for his excellent and much needed 
reprint and congratulated upon his unimpeachable proof of Chap- 
man's authorship. Students interested in this play look forward 
to the forthcoming edition of Heywood's The Captives, announced 
by the Yale Press, and drawn from Bullen's rare volumes. But 
when shall we have an edition of the greatest of Bullen's " finds " 
Sir John van Olden Barnavelt? . ~ 

a. U U 

The primary object of Mary. Countess of Lovelace, in writing 
Ralph, Earl of Lovelace: a Memoir (London, Christopher's, 1920. 
8, vi -{- 1^0 pages), was to justify her husband in regard to his 
publication of Astarte (1905), the contents of which involved the 
name of his grandfather. Lord Byron, in such unspeakable scandal. 
We see from this memoir that its subject owed a deep debt of love 
and gratitude to his maternal grandmother, the poet's widow, for 
he had spent a great part of his childhood under her roof (after his 
mother's death in 1852, we presume, although the writer does not 
say so), and it was, therefore, entirely natural that he should have 
conceived it to be his duty to clear away the mists of misappre- 
hension and prejudice which had enveloped her reputation from 
the time of her separation from Lord Byron, and, particularly, in 
her old age. The real origin of this, for the most part, undeserved 
unpopularity was, of course, the fact that she had been drawn into 
domestic strife with one of the great geniuses of modern times 
a man, too, who, as the foremost champion in literature of liberty, 
in an age that was seeking liberty, was all the more certain to at- 
tract to his side the sympathies of the world at large. The only 
way to vindicate the victim of this false judgment was to publish 
th^ contemporary correspondence, pertinent to the question, which 


would set in its true light her conduct towards her husband in the 
great crisis of her life. As appears from the present work, Lord 
Lovelace cherished this purpose for many years before he fulfilled 
it, and we have here the history of the various circumstances that 
caused the delay: first, the objections raised by the trustees of 
Lady Byron's estate (including Dr. Lushington, who was her legal 
adviser in the matter of her separation from Lord Byron), subse- 
quent difficulties about obtaining access to the letters, owing to the 
attitude on the subject of the elder Lord Lovelace (who, it may be 
remarked incidentally, was estranged from his son, during the 
greater part of the latter's life), similar difficulties of access to an 
important body of correspondence between Lord Byron and Lady 
Melbourne, extending from 1812 to 1815, which threw light on the 
question of the separation and which had been inherited by Lady 
Dorchester from her father, Lord Broughton, etc., etc. Conse- 
quently, it was not until 1893, when the elder Lord Lovelace died 
and his son and successor came into possession of the family papers, 
that the main obstacles to the intended vindication were removed. 
The account of these affairs constitutes a long story, but one of 
great interst. Lady Lovelace observes, by the way, that the above- 
mentioned letters of Byron to Lady Melbourne are not inferior to 
any that he ever wrote. They are still unpublished although Lord 
Lovelace, to ensure their preservation, made or had made, in all, 
four copies of them. 

The chief interest of the present book is. of course, due to its 
connection with the great Byron mystery. Lord Lovelace, however, 
himself possessed a vigorous and highly cultivated mind and he 
numbered among his friends such contemporaries as W. E. H. Lecky, 
Lady Eitchie, Francis Galton, and others. The author has. done 
well, then, to include in her volume a selection^ from his letters 
especially, a considerable number relating to his achievements in 
Alpine climbing. The extent to which he allowed his mind to dwell 
on the dark episode in the life of his famous grandfather reveals 
a morbid strain in his character, for which his solitary bringing-up 
in childhood is, no doubt, in part, responsible, but, on the whole, 
one cannot rise from the perusal of this memoir without a feeling 
of high respect for his ability and conscientiousness. 

Lady Lovelace speaks of herself as "unpractised in writing." 
Nevertheless, her work, as a matter of fact, is admirably written. 
The only fault that we have to find with her is that she is so chary 
of dates. Not even the birth-year of Lord Lovelace is given. 

All students of Byron will be glad to read the following Pub- 
lisher's Note at the end of the preface : " A new edition of 'Astarte/ 
including many hitherto unpublished letters from Lord and Lady 
Byron. Mrs. Leigh, and Mrs. Villiers, is in preparation at the time 
of going to press." j D B 


VOLUME xxxvi JUNE, 1921 NUMBER 6 


A solution satisfactory to all scholars for the early disappearance 
of Sly is yet forthcoming. 2 The play as it stands naturally leaves 
something to be desired, for it obviously is not well rounded out. 
To account for this flaw many suggestions have been made, some 
of them being less plausible than , others. Ulrici thought that the 
dramatist intended the closing of the old farce, A Shrtiv, to be 
reproduced in his own, a statement that rightly has been ques- 
tioned. 3 

It does not seem probable that Professor Schelling's recent obser- 
vation 4 is the key to the solution, namely, that the dramatist 
wearied, dropping the adventures " when the play within the play 

1( The problem of authorship, even though collaboration is assumed, is 
not involved, for the drunken tinker appears in both " accepted " and 
" spurious " parts. iFor a discussion of the authorship of The Shrew see 
my forthcoming volume. 

3 End of I. i. 

"See R. W. Bond's statement in The Shrew (Arden ed.), 32 n. See 
further Bond's sane objection to Fleay's highly ingenious theory (ibid. ). 
Schomburg, The Taming of the Shrew, Halle, 1904, 8 f., lists others. Cf . 
also Mrs. C. C. Stopes, Athenaeum, June 11, 1904, 763; ibid, (reprinted 
article) Shakespeare's Industry, 1916, 145. She finds in the play a satire: 
the Lord and not Justice Shallow is a fling at Sir Thomas Lucy ( 143, 
149). Cihas. Knigfait, Studies of Shakspere, 1851, 146 f., has a suggestion 
which is at least novel: "Had Shakspere brought him (iSly) again upon 
the scene, in all the richness of his first exhibition, perhaps the impatience 
of the audience would never have allowed them to sit through the lessons 
of the ' taming school.' " 

4 Cf. Boas, A Shreic, 1908, ix f. 



was at an end." 5 There was no need of any great creative work ; 
in fact A Shrew contains all the necessary remarks of Sly, speeches 
that the later playwright might have used had he wished. For 
indeed he borrowed freely from the Induction of the old work, 
helping himself to this good bit and that as was his practice in 
general. 6 Moreover it is difficult to imagine Shakspere's tiring* of 
one of his comic creations. It would be more plausible to assume 
that the poet was guilty of carelessness, a charge to which he was 
to lay himself open (to all appearances) even in his mature dra- 
mas. 7 But this reason seems unsatisfactory also, since the tinker 
plays not a small part in the Induction, and (as we shall later see) 
his exit seems carefully planned. 

Elze 8 and others have remarked that the end was lost. The 
difficulty with this view is that Sly should appear somewhere be- 
tween his dropping out of sight (close of I, i.) and the epilogue. 
This he actually does in the older play. It is hardly conceivable 
that he should merely " sit and mark " 9 silently for nearly five 
acts. If he is too drowsy to make comments, 10 he is also too sleepy 
to stay awake. He was too garrulous a creature to remain un- 
heard. Neither could he have slept through four or more acts, 
and then make remarks. There would be nothing apropos for 
him to say : he had witnessed none of the taming scenes ; in fact he 
had not even seen Petruchio. He could hardly point a moral n 
when he had not had a glimpse of the tamer ! Probably the best 
theory is that stated by Professor Neilson : " in the necessity of 
clearing the gallery, from which Sly is viewing the stage for the 
appearance of the Pedant from a window in v. i." 12 This theory, 

5 " The Common Folk of Shakespeare," in A Book of Homage to 8-, 
Oxford, 1916, 370,. 
6 Cf. Bond., op. cit., 3 n. 

7 For a partial list, see my study, op. cit. 

8 Preface to Tieck's trans, in Ulrici's ed. of Schlegel and T's Shak., 7th 
ed., 1877, vii, 10. Elze seems to think that the " Fortsetzung " of Sly 
was likewise lost, but he drops the matter at that point. iCf. Shomburg, 8. 

'Stage directions (end of I. i.). 

"See ibid. 

11 Cf. Sly's moral in the epilogue of the old play. See infra for further 

a Introduction to The Shrew in the Cambridge ed. of Shakespeare's 
plays; cf. Schottiburg, 9. 


however, conflicts with evidence (shortly to be presented in full) 
that Shakspere in the beginning deliberately planned Sly's exodus. 

Is not the solution of the problem to be found in the belief that 
the drunken tinker was dismissed for artistic (and psychological) 
reasons ? 13 To imagine The Shrew with Sly's occasional remarks, 
let us see what the author of A Shrew has actually done. Greater 
exhibition of improbability and lack of realism could not well be 
found. No sooner is the rogue completely intoxicated than he is 
asked to witness a play ; his observations are to be based on life in 
the academic city of Athens. But being in a stupor he is natur- 
ally in no fit condition to witness a theatrical performance. To 
complicate matters his physical condition grows worse, since he 
calls repeatedly for more " small ale." 14 Yet through the greater 
part of the spectacle he remains mentally alert and imperturbable. 15 
Not until near the close of the fourth act does drowsiness overcome 
him, and he falls asleep, 16 being carried out at the close of that act. 
Though he misses entirely the final, and important, act in which 
the audience sees the shrew completely conquered, he appears in 
the epilogue to point the moral. 

For Shakspere to have pursued a like method would have been 
a transgression of all laws of realism. Let us see what changes 
were made in the composition of The Shrew. The Induction opens 
with Sly completely intoxicated just after he has been put out of 
an ale house by an irate hostess. Being unconscious he is presently 
picked up by a lord returning from a hunt. As soon as the lord's 
house is reached the tinker is bathed and put in a warm bed, and 
then made to believe that he is a lord just awakening from a long 
sickness. Meanwhile a consuming thirst overcomes him, and he 

"Some of my remarks, independently .arrived at, were anticipated by 
Schomburg, 9, 24-6. Elsewhere (in 'The Authorship,' etc., op. cit.) I 
have taken pleasure in indicating my indebtedness to this thorough-going 
piece of work. Bond in his excellent (Arden) edition of The Shrew (33 
note) observes that Sly's return at the end of the play would be in the 
nature of an anti-climax. He adds that the conclusion may have been 
" effected .... in dumb-show." This view of course leaves out of account 
the remarks Sly should make from time to time in the play. 

"Cf. Boas, op. cit., 5, 6, 21, 53, 64 (wine). 

"Ibid., 48 f., 53. 

"Ibid., 53. 


begins to call for " small ale." 17 Under these circumstances Sly 
is obviously not fit to play his part for long, though (as has been 
shown) not realized by the author of the old drama. But Shak- 
spere was too familiar with the power of the " invisible spirit " for 
that: Falstaff's famous apostrophe to sack as well as the drinking 
scenes in Othello, Antony and Cleopatra, and elsewhere, is proof 
on that point. We are not surprised to learn, therefore, that when 
the comedy for his benefit is about to begin he lapses into a state 
of lethargy, for he now reverts to prose after several speeches of 
blank verse; and that at the close of the first scene he is not only 
bored but has actually been nodding. Shakspere consequently was 
remaining firm on the rock of human nature; there was nothing 
else to do, provided he was to remain true to his art. 18 

Another, in some ways more important, reason for the tinker's 
disappearance is the following. His presence and comments would 
dissipate the spectator's interest in a remarkably clever and enter- 
taining plot. The title of the farce is significant: not (as in the 
old play) the taming of a shrew, but of the shrew. 19 In making 
the change Shakspere presumably had a purpose (cf. ' The Win- 
ter's Tale '). Is it too much to suggest that the dramatist wished 
to compose a farce that should be a masterpiece? This is what 
he was to do in the other types of drama ; and it may not be wholly 
without significance that The Shrew was probably his last farce. 20 

17 Cf. sc. ii, 1. 77. 

18 Schomburg (24) notes that Sly's lack of the "cultural background" 
makes one wonder how he could have enjoyed a play even like The Shrew. 
It is interesting in this connection that Sly in A Shrew was familiar with 
the theater ( Boas, 7 ) ; and equally important that the later dramatist 
makes him ignorant of it (sc. n, 139 f.). At all events, it is not surpris- 
ing that the tinker should nod at a play localized in the shadow of an 
Italian university; for it must be remembered that Sly never sees the 
tamer: the first scene (the only one witnessed by Sly) is largely taken 
up with Lucentio, who is about to matriculate at Padua University. Luce 
(Handbook to S., 1906, 193) observes that the author of A Shrew saw the 
inconsistency in having comments by a drunken rogue, and as a result 
makes Sly remark at the close of the play that ' I dreamt upon it all this 
night.' A clumsy device, to say the least. 

18 Lest it be thought that Sly (as well as his creator) is being taken 
too seriously, see Aydelotte, ' Eliz. Rogues and Vagabonds,' Oxf. Hist, and 
Lit. Studies, 1913, especially p. 42. See also chapter (and bibliography) 
on 'Rogues' in Shakespeare's England, 1916. 

* Unless M. Wives is an exception, a play that raises many queries. 


As for scattering the interests of the audience, Shakspere 
throughout his plays was a master in centering attention. Every- 
where in his best comedies and tragedies there is one character- 
istica unity and welding of the whole piece. This singleness of 
effect is, according to Creizenach, 21 the outstanding feature in 
Shakspere. His contemporaries seek " separate effective situa- 
tions/' and not an " organic whole." A notable instance occurs 
in Antony and Cleopatra. The flattening out of subordinate 
characters and events (the latter sometimes completely obliterated) 
is at times amazing. MacCallum 22 in his masterly treatment of 
the play, observes how the facts of history are warped to suit the 
dramatist's purpose: that nothing must interfere with the over- 
powering infatuation of the Roman for the " serpent of old Nile." 
And again the same writer notes that everything is done " to con- 
centrate the attention on the purely personal relations of the 
lovers." 23 In Macbeth, to mention but one other instance, this 
unity of impression is got with consummate skill. Bradley, 24 in 
speaking of the ironing out iprocess of minor personages, sees no 
reason " why the names of the persons should not be interchanged 
in all the ways mathematically possible/' 

Now The Shrew exhibits this quality to a high degree. Scholars 
beginning with Dr. Johnson have praised the superb handling of 
the various threads of the play. In fact the parts are not dis- 
tinct, but one and indivisible. The closing scene of the farce is 
in this respect unsurpassed even in Shakspere. Every detail, 
particularly noticeable in the last dozen lines, is carefully man- 
aged. The final speech, led up to by two or three preceding 
speeches, is perfect in its focussing of interests. The compactness 
of these few lines, the rapid denouement, the breathless interest all 
testify to Shakspere's plan of welding the various parts of the 
farce into a perfect whole. If the poet then reveals such care in 
this matter could he possibly have wished to defeat his very purpose 

21 The English Drama in the Age of Shakespeare (Eng. transl., 1916), 

22 The Roman Plays, 2 ed., 1910, 338-366; cf. Creizenach, 261. 

23 MacCallum, 339. 

M Shakespearean Tragedy, 1910, 387; cf. Quiller-Cotich, Shakespeare's 
Workmanship, 1917, 44-8. Cf. also my remarks on this point in 'The 
Shrew,' op. cit. Much Ado likewise reveals this quality at every turn. 


by introducing Sly? He wanted totality of effect, a character- 
istic, as we have seen, of his mature works. The only way to have 
it was to sacrifice everything in favor of the tamer and the shrew; 
for it does not seem probable in view of these facts that Shakspere 
would permit a puppet to engage the attention of the spectators. 
The Shrew with him would have a defect; without him it is a 
finished piece of work. 25 

Furthermore, there is evidence of a definite nature indicating 
that the dramatist while, composing the Induction deliberately 
planned Sly's dismissal. We have seen that the rogue was physi- 
cally and mentally beyond his depth : his closing remarks (end of 
i. i. ) reveal his drowsiness and boredom : 

First Serv. My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play. 

Sly- Yes, by 'Saint Anne, do I. A good matter, surely; comes there 

any more of it? 

Page. My lord, 'tis but begun. 
Sly. "Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady: would 'twere 


From these lines it would seem clear that the poet had no further 
intention of keeping the tinker. 

Additional testimony of a peculiarly interesting character sup- 
ports such a view. The reference in the Induction of the old play 28 
to the moral A Shrew would furnish all husbands has been entirely 
omitted by Shakspere. This omission can hardly be accidental. 
Moreover scholars have observed that the old play rounds out com- 
pletely ; but has the nature of the conclusion been carefully noted ? 
Making all due allowances for a drunken and illiterate rogue's 

25 One recalls Hamlet's " And let those that play your clowns speak no 
more than is set down for them," etc.; cf. Sohomburg, 9. For further dis- 
cussion on the defect of the play as it stands, see infra. It is interesting 
to note that none of Shakspere's tragedies contains an epilogue. Of the 
comedies four (with Twelfth Night which ends with a song by the Clown) 
end with one; but in each case the words are spoken by a chief character: 
All's Well, by the King; As Y, by Rosalind; and Tempest, by Prospero. It 
it obvious therefore that the closing words in each instance, spoken as they 
are by a main personage, have a definite relation to the play. It is also 
of importance to observe that none of these three comedies depends for 
its chief interest upon its plot. 

28 Boas, 4. The title is also give, of which there is no trace in The Shreic. 


inability to keep awake, we yet have the inartistic ending of A 
Shrew, namely, its lesson. 

Sly. Who's this? Tapster? Oh, lord, sirrah, I have had 

The bravest dream to-night, that ever thou 

Heardest in all thy life! 
Tapster. Ay, marry, but you Iiad best get you home, 

For your wife will course you for dreaming here to-night. 
S/J/- Will she? I know now how to tame a shrew! 

I dreamt upon it all this night till now, 

And thou hast waked me out of the best dream 

That ever I had in my life. 

But I'll to my wife presently 

And tame her too, and if she anger me. 

That Shakspere on artistic grounds could have retained such an 
ending is, in the light of his other plays, highly improbable. To 
be sure the author of the old play has done well enough with the 
moral as such. But that is not the problem before us. Shakspere, 
in omitting the allusion to it in his Induction, did not intend that 
The Shrew should point a lesson, Hazlitt notwithstanding. Let 
us grant for the moment that Sly's benediction would not have 
dissipated the interests of the audience; it yet would have been 
an inartistic ending, wholly unlike anything in Shakspere. There- 
fore, once granted that the moral could not be superimposed, what 
excuse was there for keeping Sly on the stage- He had never, 
it will be remembered, seen a play, another touch in A Shrew 
which was dropped by Shakspere. 27 Unlike Polonius, therefore, 
he could not criticise its art. Nor could it be in the manner of 
a climax to have him dismiss the spectators, with the request that 
he be left alone with his wife. And it certainly would be an anti- 
climax to have the play end with another of his requests for ale ! 
What, therefore, could he say or do? 

Of course, the question Why did the poet write the Induction at 
all? still remains. There is, when all is said and done, the imper- 
fection. Apparently he saw the difficulty early, if indeed not 
from the beginning. For, if the observation above is correct, he 
planned the dismissal of the rogue in the Induction. At any rate, 
the humorous references to the Midlands seemingly reminiscences 
of his youth indicate that the poet enjoyed the writing of this 

"See supra. 


prologue. The added concreteness and richness of detail, in 
which the framework of the source is clothed with flesh and blood, 
is likewise of the poet's best. One noticeable improvement stands 
out, in the substitution of the hostess for the tapster of A Shrew; 
and the dialogue that follows between the drunken tinker and the 
hostess foreshadows what is soon to come in the scenes at the 
Boar's Head Tavern. Of irksomeness and weariness, therefore, 28 
no hint appears in this preface. 

Assuming that the dramatist may have seen from the first the 
inevitable imperfection, we may imagine that he argued in one of 
two ways. He could have reasoned that the flaw was not venial ; 
no one -can urge that the slip is worse than some others that might 
be mentioned: for instance the untimely disappearance of old 
Adam, as well as the Fool in Lear. 29 Indeed these two apparent 
blunders seem the result of carelessness or indifference, for (unlike 
Sly to all appearances) no provision for their going had been 
made. Obviously in the very nature of the form the bit of inar- 
tistic fault in The Shrew is more conspicuous. However, it is 
unlikely that Sly, anymore than Adam or the Fool, was missed by 
the audience, and Shakspere did not write for critics of another 
age. The spectators, once engrossed in the doings of the tamer 
and the shrew, forgot all about the tinker. Or, in the second 
place, the poet may have argued that he would like to try his hand 
at an innovation. Quiller-Couch has shown, in a stimulating 
book, 30 that the dramatist throughout his career never wearied 
of experiments. Inasmuch as an Induction does not appear in any 
other play, Shakspere may have wished to see the effect of one on 
the audience. It lay before him in his source; why not use it? 
Why not, especially, when A Shrew as we know, 31 was popular. 
The choice of a theme familiar to his audience upon which to build 
a comedy or tragedy was, moreover, his usual practice. 

At all events, the lively and graceful lines in the Induction 
testify to his pleasure in composing it; the spectators presumably 

28 Cf. Schelling, op. cit. 

29 Unless one assumes that Ms famous closing words ( III, vi. ) are in 
reality his swan-song, a view not satisfying to students of the tragedy. 

38 Op. cit., 202 ff. 

31 There were three contemporary editions, 1594, 1596, 1607 (cf. Boas, 
op. cit., intro.). 


were entertained by it, forgetting all about Sly in their enjoyment 
of the inimitable farce to follow. Hence, for all practical purposes 
the rogue had served his usefulness, in that he had given a novel 
setting to a good play. In short, the Induction had furnished a 
farcical atmosphere for a farcical story. The way to the dramatist 
was then left open to write a farce that has proved to be his master- 
piece, in which he was to obtain a totality of effect that the tinker's 
presence would make impossible; a farce, the technique of which 
equals the master's best achievements in comedy and tragedy. 32 


Goucher College. 


The allegorical figure Nature did not play so conspicuous a part 
in early Italian literature as it did in other literatures, though it 
appeared more strikingly than in early German. In a previous 
article * I have shown how the figure arose among Greek writer? 
under the name Physis both as a personification and as a personage 
more or less divine associated with the creation of life in the world. 
After its establishment in the encyclopedic or scientific pre- 
Socratics, it assumed its greatest and most permanent significance 
as an agent of God, through the influence of the Platonic dialogue 
Timaeus. Thus, often with moral application, it was repeatedly 
employed by Latin authors of the classical and medieval periods, 
as by Seneca, a representative of Stoic, by Statins, a poet of epic 
situations, by Claudianus, composer of satires and panegyrics of an 
allegorical sort, and by the Latin humanists and allegorical poets 
of the twelfth century. The chief among these last, so far as effect 
on Italian literature goes, was Alan of Lille, whose works Anti- 
claudianus and De Planctu Naturae exerted a tremendous influence 
on medieval allegory. And in the thirteenth century came the 
more purely encyclopedic and philosophic studies of Albert the 
Great and Thomas Aquinas. 

87 It is true of course tlhat Sly is not disillusioned (cf. Freeman, Disguise 
Plots in Eliz. Drama, 1915, 10). But the same charge can be brought, for 
example, against Moliere in Le Bourgeois gentilhomme. 

1 " Nature in Earlier Periods," Journal of English and Germanic 
Philology, xix. 


Upon such writers are dependent the chief Italian employers of 
the figure, Brunette Latini (1230?-1294) and Dante Alighieri. 

The first principal use of Nature in early Italian vernacular 2 
and the only great example of it was that by Brunette Latini in 
his allegorical didactic poem, II Tesoretto. 3 In one sense it is a 
pocket-abstract of the extensive prose encyclopedia which he wrote 
in French, Li Livres dou Tresor; 4 but it is more literary in aim. 5 

The author represented himself as traveling in the valley of 
Eoncesvalles. There he met a student from Bologna, and learned 
from him that the Guelphs had been driven from Florence. The 
news caused him to reflect with sorrow upon the new circumstances, 
and to turn to nature as a refuge. Upon coming to himself, he 
saw a mountain with a great crowd of different creatures, including 
men, animals, plants, stones, beyond the power to name. In growth 
and in death these objects obeyed a figure that touched the sky so 
that it became her veil, sometimes fair, sometimes stormy. At her 
command the firmament moved and expanded so that the world 
appeared to be in her arms. Now she smiled and now she grieved. 
Observing her power, he decided to approach her reverently and to 
get information from her. Thus he saw how beautiful were her 
hair, forehead, eyes, and so on a description typical of those of 
women at the time. (The changeableness of her appearance was 
suggested in Alan's De Planctu, and the veil though the sym- 
bolism is natural enough for any one of imagination in Walter 
of Chatillon as well.) Like Jean de Meun in the Roman de la 
Rose, Brunetto realized that he was unable to describe her compe- 
tently; but unlike him he attempted to do so. As in De Planciu 
and the Roman de la Rose, and indeed the English moralities, 
Nature explained herself. She similarly declared herself to be 
vicar under God, the omnipotent and omniscient. Her creatures 
are not eternal. Then Nature began a didactic discussion of the 
four modes at the beginning of everything, the six days of creation, 
the virgin birth of Christ, and his vicarious death for man. Fol- 
lowed a more detailed analysis of the days. It seemed to Brunetto 

'See the article previously referred to for a consideration of the use of 
Nature in the Latin works of Italian writers of the general period, for 
instance, Henry of Milan, Henry of Settimello, Thomas Aquinas, Petrarch, 
and Boccaccio. 

3 Ed. C. B. Zannoni, Firenze, 1824; also Strassburg, 1909. A critical text 
is in Zeit. f. roman. Philol., vn, 336 ff.. by B. Wiese. See N. H. Dole, 
A Teacher of Dante, New York, 1908. 

4 Ed. P. Chabaille, Paris, 1863. 

s f. T. Sundby, Delia Vita c Delle Opere di Brunei to Latini, translated 
from the Danish by R. Renier. Firenze, 1884, pp. 158 ff. 


he saw all things come to Nature to ask permission to complete 
their labor. Therefore he desired to learn from her the truth. She 
explained to him God's creation of angelic substance, the actions 
of Lucifer., and the beginning of time from the fall of Adam. Yet, 
she declared, in the end God wishes that all effort or trial should 
result well. Man is the height of his work, superior to the other 
animals. Then she proceeded with an encyclopedic exposition of 
the universe. Finally the poet had to depart, and needed directions 
for his journey. Nature gave them with grace and love. She told 
him how to go safely and whom to meet, Philosophy and her sisters. 
He would hear of the four Virtues; he might encounter Fortune 
and even Barter. If he should be fearless, he would see the God of 
Love and many people in bliss and woe. Then Brunetto kissed 
her feet and departed. After a hunt, he came upon Virtue and 
her four daughters and advanced to their several courts, where he 
received further instructions. Upon resuming his way, he met 
the God of sensual Love with the four attendant passions. Though 
he succumbed to their influence, he finally resolved to turn to 
spiritual love. 

The theme is plainly of the same sort as that dwelt upon in the 
works of Alan of Lille and in Archithrenius by Jean de Hauteville. 
We find the combination of learning with the desire for expe- 
rience in life. Among the distractions from the occupations of 
a student is love. Brunetto, like his predecessors, distinguishes 
between two kinds of love, the higher and the lower, and advocates 
the former, in harmony with the teachings of Nature, the vicar of 
God. With this view of love, one may compare not only the medi- 
eval theory of courtly love and Dante's conceptions, but those of 
the Platonists of the Renaissance, such as Marsilio Ficino in Italy, 
the Pleiade and its precursors in France, and Spenser in England. 
Man should act in accordance with the laws of Nature, a Stoic- 
teaching. The doctrine is like that of Jean de Meun, 6 the greatest 
of the followers of Alan and a younger contemporary of Brunette's. 
But the treatment is not satirical; Nature is wholly a dignified 
character. And the doctrine of procreation is not so strongly 

Of a different purpose and sort is Brunette's purely encyclopedic 
Li Limes dou Tresor, but again one finds reminiscences of Alan's 
De Planctu, as in a passage in which she is called vicar of her true 
father and is distinguished from God at length (p. 13, I, i, viii), 

8 Nature in Old French will be considered in Modern Philology. 


and again picturesquely (p. 104, i, i\, c). Brunette explained 
the relation by more philosophic definition, following Aristotle. 7 
In the discussion of " mesure " occurs the Stoic principle that 
ended Archithrenius, " nus ne doit aler contre nature/' 8 Nature 
wanted man to live purely, honorably. These portions of the 
encyclopedia serve as an illustrative commentary on his own poem. 
But there is nothing new in the philosophic conception; the sole 
novelty in his use of Nature lies in two allegorical situations, one 
at the beginning of II Tesoretto, the other in her dismissal of the 
po'et. Nature came to comfort him in his grief over the political 
affairs of his city and outlined for him a course of conduct for the 
future a study of morals and a living through worldly experience 
to the attainment of a goal of virtue. 

Brunette's pupil Dante often employed natura for literary 
purposes and in philosophic senses such as we have investigated. 
A fairly complete list may be readily obtained from the concor- 
dances. 9 A discussion of Dante's use occurs in Kuhn's chapter, 
" Dante's Conception of Nature." 10 In general, Dante followed 
Aristotle and Aquinas, but he employed of course the conventional 
personifications, as when Nature makes a beautiful woman. 11 
To his mind, Nature's purposes and activities are regular and 
good ; 12 any departure in the course of events is due to the influence 
of Fortuna or of God himself. 13 Among her works Nature feels 
most affection for man. 14 She gives him love, 15 disposition for 

'Pp. 148-9. 

8 Pp. 374-8. 

8 Concordanza delle Opere Italiane in prosa e del Canzoniere di Dante 
Alighieri, E. iS. Sheldon and A. C. White, Oxford, 1905; Dantis Alagherii 
Operum Latinorum Concordantiae, E. K. Rand and E. H. Wilkins (with 
A. C. White), Oxford, 1912; Concordance of the Divina Commedia, E. A. 
Fay, Cambridge, Mass., 1888; Enciclopedia Dantesca, G. A. Scartazzini, 
Milano, 1898-9, n, article on "natura." 

10 L. O. Kuhns, The Treatment of Nature in Dante's ' Divina Commedia,' 
New York, 1897, ch. I. Accordingly I make my discussion briefer. 

u Vita Nuova, canzone I; cf. sonetto 10; also other creations, Inferno, 
xxxi, 49 ff. Cf. with art, Par. xxvii, 91. 

"Cf. Par., I, 104 ff. ; the discussion of Natura's providence for man in 
De Monarchia, n, 7; cf. Mon., I, iii, 22; " Deus et natura nil otiosum 
facit "; Convivio, iv, xxiv, 106, 113; Inf., xi, 56, xxxi, 49. 

13 Par., vrn, 133-44. 

14 Conv., n, ix. 

15 Inf., XT, 56, 61-2. 


pleasure, and hope of immortality. 16 Nevertheless man is some- 
times evil and then acts against Nature. 17 

The power of Nature is limited; it ceases at Purgatory, so that 
we have the same impression of Nature's aloofness from God that 
we have from the Antidaudiamis of Alan and De Mundi Univer- 
sitate of Bernardus Silvester. The agent works at a distance from 
her superior. The influence of the stars and other forces interferes 
somewhat with her processes, as was indeed to be inferred from 
De Mundi Universitaie, where the human soul, coming from a 
region not under Nature's control, is instructed in matters in the 
province of Urania rather than in that of Nature. Nature is 
indeed not God ; 18 without the use of the word itself, the distinc- 
tion appears in Paradiso, vn, 124 if. 

Dante cannot be said to have added to the tradition of Nature 
in personification or allegory. He afforded no important allegorical 
passage in which she occupies a part, and he exerted no influence 
in favor of such treatment. His uses are mostly grammatical or 
philosophical, close to those of Albert the Great and Thomas 
Aquinas. In fact, for the present discussion he is much less sig- 
nificant than Brunetto Latini. 

In Brunetto Latini and Dante are comprised the chief uses of 
Nature in Italian vernacular up to about 1500. There was a fair 
sprinkling of the uses made by the French, such as the formation 
of a beautiful woman, the bestowal of natural and intellectual gifts 
upon man, the contrast with Fortune, the association with Art, 
and the cooperation with God. 19 On the whole, however, such 

18 Conv., n, ix, 96-7. Cf. the Middle English poem, Death and Life. 

"Inf., xi, 48, 110. 

"She is under His intellect and art: Inf., xi, 99-100; see Mon., I, iii, 
18; II, ii, 37; cf. Conv., in, 4, 98; Mon., I, x, 4; i, xiv, 12, 13; II, ii, 116; 
Epistola, vi, 47; Quaest. de aqua et terra, 13, 19; Inf., xi, 99. Cf. Par.,vni. 

" Instances are Sonetti di Antonio da Pistoia, ed. R. Renier, Torino, 1888, 
176, 3. II Morgante Maggiore di L. Pulci, Canto n, vii, 2 ; xvin, cxliii, 8, 
clxiii, 4; xix, clxxiv, 5; xx, xxiii, 8; xxii, ccxxvi, 2. Canzoniere di Pietro 
Jacopo de Jennaro, ed. G. Barone, Napoli, 1883, 68, 3; 99, 14; 113, 2. 
Opere di J. Sunna&wo, Padova, 1723, pp. 406, 425. Rime di Hatteo di 
Dino Frescobaldi, ed. G. Carducci, 1866, I, p. 21. Cantici del beato Jaco- 
pone da Todi, Napoli, 1615, cii, p. 269. Rime di Fra Guittone d'Arczzo. 
Firenze, 1828, 2 vols., n, cxlvi, 1. 11. Sonetti di Cecco Angiolieri, ed. A. F. 
Massera, Bologna, 1906. xv, 6. Poesie di Cino da Pistoia, Pistoia, 1826 
(or 1813?), ed. S. Ciam>pi. ii, canz. xv, p. 140; canz. xxiii, p. 213. II 


emphasis or slightly allegorical play did not mark Italian verse. 
The nature of the Italian lyric and romance may have been averse 
to such a conventionality if not to others. 


University of Illinois. 


Most histories of Spanish literature give no date for the death 
of Antonio de Villegas, the author of the Inventario, and there is, 
I believe, no documentary evidence of a biographical nature con- 
cerning him aside from that contained between the covers of the 
two editions of the Inventario (Medina del Campo, 1565, 1577). 
Professors J. Fitzmaurice-Kelly and E. Merimee in their histories 
of Spanish literature give the date of Villegas' death as 1551. The 
only reason which justifies this date is based on the petition de 
privilegio of the 1565 edition of the Inventario, where the state- 
ment is made that in 1551 Villegas had obtained a licencia to pub- 
lish the book, that the licencia had been allowed to lapse, and that 
a new one was being requested. 1 Since one would scarcely go to 

Pecorone di Giovanni Fiorentino, Milano, 1804, I, p. 2. Opere di Girolamo 
Benvvieni, Venetia, 1522, p. 185. Sonetti del Burchiello, Londra, 1751, i, 
77, iii, 157. II Quadriregio di F. Frezzi, Foligno, 1726, I, pp. 187, 200, 234, 
235, 244-5, 249, 340. Opere di Lorenzo de' Medici, ed. A. Simioni, Bari, 
1913, 2 vols., Comento di Lorenzo de' Medici sopra alcuni de' suoi sonetti, 
I, 58; XLII, 1. 10 (giving) ; canz. vi, p. 202; LXXVI, p. 213; Altercazione, 
cap. in, iv. Rime di Benedetto Gareth detto II Chariteo, ed. E. Percopo, 
Na-poli; It892, n, 422. For Petrarch, see Conoordanza delle Rime di Fran- 
cesco Petrarca, K. McKenzie, Oxford and New Haven, 1912. Canzoni di 
Antonio degli Alberti, ed. S. Andreis, Rovereto, 1865, n, p. 17; in, p. 21. 
The Poetry of Giacomo da Lentino, ed. E. F. Langley, Cambridge, Mass., 
1915, canz. xvni, 1. 3. Opere Volgari di L. B. Alberti, ed. A. Bonucci, 
Firenze, 1843, I, pp. clxxxi, ccxi. Orlando Innamorato di Boiardo, ed. A. 
Panizzi, London, 1830, 5 vols., i, Lib. I, iii, stanza 37, p. 50; Lib. I, xviii, 
stanza 6; cf. edit. F. Foffano, Bologna, 1906; Le Poesie Volgari e Latine 
di Boiardo, ed. A. Solerti, Amores, xiv, 1, XIX, 5, xxvi, 9, xxxi, 2, LIV, 2, 
CLvr, 6, CLXIII, 3, Pastorale, vni, 116, IX, 32. 

1 The petici6n de privilegio of the first edition of the Inventario (1565) 
reads as follows: "<C. R. 'M. Antonio de Villegas dice, que el compuso un 
libro de ciertas obras en metro Castellano intitulado, Inventario de Anto- 
nio de Villegas. Y habiendo suplicado el afio de cincuenta y uno, se le 


the expense and trouble of obtaining a licencia without making use 
of it, it may be logical to suppose that Villegas died before he was 
able to effect the publication of his book. It would seem, however, 
that there is very definite evidence which can be adduced to prove 
that Villegas was alive long after 1551. This evidence is based 
on the assumption that the granting of a privilege to the author 
is an indication that the author was alive at the time the privilege 
was granted. Our knowledge of copyright laws in sixteenth-cen- 
tury Spain is rather limited, it is true, but it would appear from 
an examination of privileges taken from books printed in Toledo, 
Madrid, and Medina del Campo that the evidence is justified by the 

An edition of the works of Cristobal de Castillejo (died 1556), 
published in Madrid in 1577, contains the following: "Lie. a Juan 
Lopez de Velasco por ocho anos: Madrid, 21 Agosto 1573. Priv. 
a favor del mismo : San Lorenzo a 5 Agosto 1577." 2 The Episto- 
lario Espiritual of Juan de Avila (died 1569), published in Madrid 
in 1578, contains a privilege " a Juan de Villaras heredero del 
autor por diez anos." 3 In the year 1544 there was granted a 
" privilegio de Castilla a la mujer y herederos de Boscan por diez 
anos " to publish the " Obras del Boscan y algunas de Garcilaso 
de la Vega." 4 In 1550 the Lectura legum aliquarum hujus regni 
of Eodrigo Suarez contains a "privilegio al lie. Hernan Suarez, 
hijo del autor por 10 anos." 5 The Prima Pars Consiliorum of 
Marcos Salon de Paz, published in 1576, contains a " priv. por 
diez anos al Doctor Burgos de Paz . . . para imprimir la primera 
parte de los consejos compuestos por el Doctor Burgos de Paz, 
vuestro padre difunto." 6 In the Comoediae of Juan Perez de 
Toledo, published in 1574, there is a privilege "por diez anos a 
Antonio Perez, clerigo de Toledo, hermano del autor." 7 The Ad 

diesse licencia para imprimir, V. M. se la concedi6 por su c6dula. Y porque 
no ha usado della, suplica a V. M. que, rasgando aquella, se le de otra 
de nuevo, por ser passado el trmino que se le di6." 

2 <C. Prez Pastor, Bibliografia Madrilena, I, 53. 

3 Ibid., p. 58. 

4 C. P6rez Pastor, La Imprenta en Medina del Campo, p. 31. 
6 Ibid., p. 70 h 

6 Ibid., pp. 197-8. 

7 C. PeYez Pastor, La Imprenla en Toledo, p. 132. 


Callosyrivm Episcopum Arsenoitem, Aduersus Antropomorphitas 
Liber is printed together with St. Cyril's De Adoratione in spiritu 
et veritate and the privilege was granted in 1571 " por cinco anos 
a D. Pedro de Mendoza heredero de D. Hernando de Mendoza que 
habia hecho traducir este libro a Buenaventura Vulcanic." 8 Pro- 
fessor Henry Thomas makes the following statement a propos of 
the Spanish romance of chivalry Cristalian de Espana: " This privi- 
lege (i. e., in second edition 1586, colophon 1587) shows that 
Beatriz Bernal died before the second edition came out, for it con- 
cedes the right to print her mother's work to ' Juana Bernal de 
Gatos, widow, of the city of Valladolid, daughter and sole heiress 
of Beatriz Bernal deceased, formerly wife of the Bachiller Torres 
de Gatos.' " 9 

Privileges like the foregoing show that when authors or transla- 
tors had died care was taken to issue permits and copyright privi- 
leges to their heirs. In all cases where it has been possible I have 
investigated privilegios al autor, and found that the author was 
living at the time the privilege was granted. In the light of what 
has been stated here it does not seem possible that Villegas was 
dead in 1565, when the peticion de privilegio appearing in foot- 
note 1 was written and when a privilege was granted to the author 
for ten years. Nor does it seem possible that he was dead in 1574, 
when a privilege was granted to the author for eight years to pub- 
lish a second edition of the Inventario. In October, 1576, a privi- 
lege was granted " para imprimir la question y disputa entre Aiax 
y Vlixes sobre las armas de Aquiles con el Inventario, por el tiempo 
concedido para esta obra en el privilegio anterior." Since this 
supplementary privilege is not granted definitely to any one, it is 
impossible to assert that Villegas was living at the time. Never- 
theless, since he was an inhabitant of Medina del Campo, it is 
logical to suppose that he was still living in October, 1576. 

It seems quite certain, therefore, that Antonio de Villegas did 
not die in 1551, that he was still alive in July, 1574, when a privi- 
lege was granted to him, and that he most probably was alive in 
October, 1576, the date of the supplementary privilege appearing 

8 C. Perez Pastor, La Imprenta en Toledo, pp. 134-5. 
" Spanish and Portuguese Romances of Chivalry, Cambridge. 1920, p. 136, 
note 2. 


in the second edition of the Inventario, which was published the 
following year. 


Washington University. 


Thomas Goffe's Careless Shepherdess a tragi-comedy acted at 
the Salisbury Court Theatre in 1629, 1 and printed in 1656 is a 
very indifferent play, but its Prseludium or Induction deserves to 
be better known than it is, for it throws light upon certain more 
or less dark places in the story of playhouse management in 
Charles I's time. Malone 2 and Collier 3 quoted from it the four 
lines following, which suggest something of the ways of playgoers 
and the rates of admission at the Ked Bull and the Fortune : 

And I will hasten to the money Box 
And take my shilling out again. . . . 
I'll go to th' Bull or Fortune, and there see 
A Play for two pence, with a Jig to boot. 

Some time ago the present writer took issue with Mr. W. J. 
Lawrence on the question of " interior gathering " in the Eliza- 
bethan theatre. 4 Lawrence's view was that the fees for seats in 
the galleries or on the stage were collected by the gatherers between 
the acts, that is to say, after the playgoer had entered the theatre 
and found his place. The evidence I cited in this connection would 
seem to indicate that in Shakspere's time at least, this was probably 
not the case, that the entrance fee was collected, instead, at the 
door, before the patrons entered the house. The procedure of 
Dekker's Gull seems to clinch this point. 5 But in the light of 
certain hitherto unquoted passages in Goffe's Praeludium, one of 
Mr. Lawrence's points deserves reconsideration. He showed that 
" interior gathering " was well established in the Restoration 

1 Fleay, Drama, n, p. 247. 

1 Malone-Boswell Shakespeare, ill, p. 70. 

'Annals, ed. 1879, in, p. 149. 

4 See Lawrence, Elizabethan Playhouse, I, p. 11 ; 11, pp. 99 ff.. and cf. 
Studies in Philology, xvr, pp. 194 ff. 

5 See n. 4. 


theatre, and, on the principle of " the continuance of theatrical 
tradition," judged that the custom must have been handed down 
from Elizabethan times. More particularly, he held that the 
Restoration gallants who " went on tick for plays " were doing only 
what their Elizabethan predecessors had done before them. The 
Prseludium of The Careless Shepherdess which has not until 
recently been accessible to me lends some support to this view; 
that is to say, it suggests that Eestoration conditions were approxi- 
mated in the last decade or two before the closing of the theatres, 
when the decline had set in, and the theatres were not as prosperous 
as they had been. 6 The Praeludium is worthy of study for this and 
other reasons. It pictures vividly the shifts and wiles of an honest 
citizen named Thrift, who haggles with the doorkeeper about his 
entrance fee ; it indicates that the Salisbury Court, like the other 
playhouses of the time, had places to suit various purses ; it suggests 
what was charged at the " motions " or puppet-shows, which com- 
peted seriously with the legitimate drama in those days ; it compli- 
ments the gallants on the stage; finally, it comments strikingly 
upon the fact that the professional playwrights of the time were 
hard put to it to keep their heads above water, because great 
numbers of gentlemen and noblemen were then clamoring to give 
their plays to the actors for the sake of seeing and hearing their wit 
on the boards. All this does not appear in the short excerpt printed 
by Malone and Collier, and so far as I know the rest of the 
Prseludium has never been reprinted. Since the play is rare and 
relatively inaccessible, 7 students of the period may find it convenient 
to have the significant passages reproduced here. 

At the beginning of the Prseludium there enters 

Bolt, a Door-keeper, sitting with a Box on one side of the Stage. 

To him Thrift, a Citizen. 

Thri. Now for a good bargain. What will you take 

To let me in to the play? 
Bolt A shilling Sir. 
Thri. iCome, here's a groat, I'le not make many words. 

Thou hast just got my trick for all the world 

6 I have shown elsewhere (cf. PMLA, xxvm, pp. 152 ff.) that Restoration 
conditions were foreshadowed at this time also in the organization of the 
dramatic companies. 

7 1 do not know of any extant copy of it except the one in the Bodleian 
Library, from which I quote below. 


I alwayes use to ask just twice as much 

As a thing's worth: then some pretend to have 

Skill in my wares, by bidding of me half. 

But when I meet a man of judgment, as 

You have done now, they bid as neer to th' price 

As if they knew my mark. Use me as you 

Do hope to have my custome other times. 
Bolt In troth Sir I can't take it. , 

Thri. Should I go 

Away, I know you'd call me back again. 

I hate this dodging: What's your lowest price? 
Bolt I told you at first word. 
Thri What a shilling? 

Why, I have known some Aldermen that did 

Begin with twelve pence : and for half so much 

I saw six motions last Bartholomew Fair. 8 
Bolt When you have seen this play, you'l think it worth 

Your money. 
Thri. Well then take this groat in earnest 

If I do like it you shall have the rest. 
Bolt This is no market or exchange, pray keep 

Your aery groat that's thinner than a shadow 

To mend your Worships shoes, it is more crackt 

Then an old Beaver or a Chambermaid. 
Thri. Well, since you will exact and stretch your Conscience 

Here's a nine pence and four pence half-penny 

Give me the rest again. 
Bolt There. 

Thri. Now for this 

When I come home I'le go unto my book 

And set a figure to each single Cipher 

T'le cheat a shilling in a penny and 

A. pound in twelve pence. . . . 

[Enter Spruce a Courtier.] 
Thri. Sir, by your powdred hair, and gawdy cloaths 

I do presume you are a Courtier. 

Pray Sir, if I may be so bold to ask 

And, if you go on Tick here too 

What did it cost you to come in? 

But Spruce calmly ignores him. Next there appears on the scene 
a " landlord," whose remarks indicate, among other things, that 

8 Cf. Ben Jonson on the motions, Bartholomew Fair, v, i and ii, " The 
Gunpowder Plot! There was a get-penny! I have presented that to an 
eighteen or twenty pence audience nine times in an afternoon. . . . An 
there come any gentlefolks, take two pence a piece, Sharkwell." 


the Salisbury Court did, after all, have seats and rates '' beneath 
the twelvepenny." 9 

[Enter Landlord.] 

Landl. God save you Gentlemen, tis my ambition 
(To occupy a place neer you: there are 
None that be worthy of my company 
In any room beneath the twelve penny. 

A little later in the proceedings, Thrift commiserates with the 
poor playwrights who are being crowded out by the noble amateurs : 

Thri. Sir, was't a Poet or a Gentleman 

That writ this play? The Court and Inns of Court 

Of late bring forth more Wit then all the Tavernes, 

Which makes me pity Playrights; they were poore 

Before, even to a proverb; now their trade 

Must needs go down, when so many set up. 

I do not think but I shall shortly see 

One poet sue to keep the door, another 

fTo be prompter, a third to snuff the candles. 

Pray Sir, has any Gentleman of late 

Beg'd the Monopoly of Comedies? 

The gentlemen,, fortunately, did not altogether monopolize the 
stage. It is worth noting, however, that they had begun to compete 
with the professional playwrights long before 1628. So early as 
1599, the Earl of Derby was "busye penning commedyes for the 
commoun players." 10 Thirty-seven years later, Richard Brome, in 
the epilogue of his Court Beggar, poked fun at the rich amateurs 

Who in a way 
To purchase fame, give money with their play. . . . 

and he returned to the charge in The Antipodes (1638). " As for 
the poets," says Letoy, 

No men love them, I thinke, and therefore 

I write all my playes my selfe, and make no doubt 

Some of the Court will follow 

Me in that too. (i, i.) 

Just about that time between 1637 and 1639 three plays of Sir 

9 1 have examined at length the whole matter of the rates of admission 
in the Elizabethan playhouses, in a forthcoming study of theatrical manage- 
ment from Shakspere's time to Sheridan. 

10 Cf. Cal. State Papers Dom., June 30, 1599, no. 35, and New Shaksp. Soc. 
Trnsactns., 1889-1892. 


John Suckling's were acted at the Blackfriars and at court, the 
productions being made at his own expense. One of them, entitled 
Aglaura, according to a contemporary letter, 11 " cost three or four 
hundred pounds setting out: eight or ten suits of new cloaths he 
gave the players; an unheard-of prodigality." 

One bit more from The Careless Shepherdess, and we have done. 
Towards the end of its Pragludium three players in succession try 
to speak the prologue within the prologue, but each one forgets his 
lines. The gallants, thinking they have put them "out," go off 
"to some private room." The Landlord thereupon decides that 
he will follow them, 

Though 5 t be into a box. 
Though they did sit thus open on the Stage 
To shew their Cloak and Sute, yet did I think 
(At last they would take sanctuary 'mongst 
The Ladies lest some Creditor should spy them. 

Thrift says the last word : 

And I will hasten to the money Box 
And take my shilling out again, for now 
1 have considered that it is too much; 
I'll go to th' Bull or Fortune, and there see 
A Play for two pence, with a Jig to boot. 


The University of California. 


This is an attempt to set forth the results of an examination of 
.so-called Homeric or detached similes in Milton's epics of their 
nature, number, length, place and frequency of occurrence, and, to 
.some extent, their sources. Naturally the first question which 
arises is, What is a ' detached ' simile ? It must be admitted that 
the term is incapable of exact definition. A simile is detached or 
not detached, as the reader chooses to regard it. Perhaps a few 
examples will serve to make clear the nature of the simile which 
the present writer has chosen to regard as not detached. In Par. 
Lost, VIT,, 364, Raphael says that to the sun 

as to their fountain, other stars 

11 Cf. Stafford's Letters, n, 150. 


Repairing, in their golden urns draw light, 
And hence the morning planet gilds her horns. 

Here the simile is distinctly too integral a part of the narrative by 
any breadth of definition to be called ' detached.' In v, 354, however, 
is a much harder case a very good example of the difficulties in 
the way of defining the term ' detached ' simile. Adam's state is 
declared to have been 

More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits 
On princes, when their rich retinue long 
Of horses led and grooms besmeared with gold 
Dazzles the crowd and sets them all agape. 

After some debate the writer has rejected this simile also from his 
list on two grounds: first, that it is a shade too closely connected 
with the narrative in process ; secondly, that, while giving a picture, 
it yet gives too generalized a picture to be typical of the Homeric 
detached simile " princes," " their," " horses," " grooms " do not 
permit the reader to formulate a single definite picture and one 
quite unconnected with Adam. There is, of course, no satisfactory 
way of accounting for the operation of tastes: undoubtedly some 
or many would disagree with this decision, and probably some 
similes have been included in this paper of which thorough con- 
sistency would seem to demand the rejection. The simile at the 
opening of Book xn has been included, despite its almost complete 
barrenness of picture 

As one who, in his journey, bates at noon, 
Though bent on speed 

chiefly because of its detachment from Michael. 

Still more difficult of classification than those cited, which must 
remain purely matters of opinion, are the much more numerous 
examples of allusion, historical, classical,, and the like, which may 
or may not seem sufficiently detached or developed pictures to be 
included in our canon. An example of fairly easy rejection is the 
description of the scene of the temptation in ix, 439 : 

Spot more delicious than those gardens feigned 

Or of revived Adonis, or renowned 

Alcinous, host of old Laertes' son, 

Or that, not mystic, where the sapient king 

Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse. 


More difficult of rejection are such half-pictures as in v, 380 : 

more lovely fair 

Than wood-nymph, or the fairest goddess feigned 
Of three that in Mount Ida naked strove. 

The best examples of such difficulty are in the long list of allusions 
to classical places of beauty in iv, 268, 272, 275, 280. They were, 
however, all rejected as allusions rather than developed pictures. 
On the other hand, the well-developed picture of Xerxes' bridge in 
x. 306 was included: 

So, if great things to small may be compared, 

Xerxes, the liberty of Greece to yoke, 

From Susa, his Memnonian palace high, 

Came to the sea, and, over Hellespont 

(Bridging his way, Europe with Asia joined. 

And scourged with many a stroke the indignant waves. 

These examples must suffice to indicate the bases of rejection and 
inclusion adopted for the present paper. 

The total number of the similes accepted in Par. Lost is 53 ; 
in Par. Regained, is 6. Their distribution and exact location may 
be noted from the table given at the close of this paper. It is 
probably inevitable that some similes, acceptable to the writer, 
have been overlooked. Undoubtedly a careful rereading of the 
epics would discover more examples. Hence, the list given is not 
intended to be taken as a completely definitive one. 

The average length of the detached simile in P. L and P. R. will 
be easily ascertained from the table to be approximately 5 verses. 
There is one simile of 10 verses in length ; one of 1 verse has been 
admitted. The remainder are between 2 and 9 verses in length. 
Similes of 3, 4, 5, and 6 verses are most common and almost 
equally common. The largest number of similes of 7 or more 
verses occurs in Books I, n, in, and ix of P. L ; the largest number 
of similes of 3 or less verses occurs in Book n of P. L. and Book iv 
of P. R. Mere length of similes, then, can hardly be taken as an 
indication of the fertility of the poet's imagination in the parts of 
the poems in which they appear. A much better indication seems 
to be the frequency of occurrence, or perhaps frequency and length. 
Judged by this standard, the poet's genius has three or four great 
levels in the two poems : the first in the first two books of P. L. or, 
better, in the first four books, with an interruption in Book in on 


account of the intractability of his matter, and a tendency to decline 
as Book iv proceeds ; the second in Books ix and x ; and the third 
in Book iv of P. R. But the differences in length of the books and 
the great differences in the beauty and the richness of the similes 
themselves make these figures deceptive. Book iv of P. R. has as 
many similes for its quota of verses as any other passage in the 
two epics. But they lack the splendor and romance of the similes 
of the better parts of P. L. 

Other considerations of distribution, however, play an even 
more important part here, particularly the consideration of the 
poet's subject-matter. Milton follows quite steadfastly the Homeric 
convention that detached similes are poetic artifices proper only 
for the author speaking in his own person. Only three violations 
of this rule occur in both poems together. And two of these three 
are hardly to be called violations of the rule : the first occurs in 
Raphael's narrative of the war in Heaven at P. L., vi, 195; the 
second, hardly complete enough for our standard of detached 
simile but too striking to be excluded from the list, is the verse 
As children gathering pebbles on the shore 

in Christ's long speech as to the value of the study of books, in 
P. R., iv, 330. In both cases the matter is really the author's 
matter, only for reasons of plot put in the mouths of characters. 
And, too, the characters are peculiarly author's characters Raphael 
nothing but a convenient puppet or chorus. One real exception 
does occur, however, in Adam's speech to Eve in P. L., x,, 1073. 
Adam is a real dramatic character and is feeling his dramatic 
limitations keenly enough even in this sermon to Eve. With these 
exceptions, then, the Homeric convention is carefully observed. 
Hence, it follows that in books largely devoted to dialogue there is 
little room for detached similes. And so they are least numerous 
in Books in, v-vm, and xi-xn of P. L. Indeed none at all occur 
in Books vm and xi of P. L. and Books i-m of P. R. 

A broader view of the whole subject, too, may well be taken here. 
God, Christ, the good Angels, in short, Heaven and all Heaven's 
denizens, proved intractable material for Milton's genius. They 
had to be treated with convention and -so could not be recreated 
in the poetfs imagination. So treated they could not and did not 
suggest similes. To what could the Protestant Christian's Heaven 
be compared and thus become material for the Renaissance poet? 


And so, as we might expect, we find detached similes least beautiful 
and least frequent in those books which we least admire, and most 
beautiful and most frequent in those books which we most admire. 
In these respects, then, the detached simile may be taken as a 
touchstone of the richness of Milton's poetic vein. 

Probably the most interesting questions connected with the 
detached similes in Milton's epics concern themselves with the 
nature or material of the individual similes themselves and the 
closely related matter of their probable sources in Milton's reading, 
observation, or reflection. In partial answer to these questions, 
the writer has divided the similes into categories, more or less 
arbitrarily adopted. It will be readily seen that such categories 
cannot be made mutually exclusive and that some similes belong 
equally to two or more classes. The two main categories are those 
of similes having to do with matter which Milton probably drew 
from his reading, and of similes made up of material probably 
taken from his observation of the world about him. No attempt 
has been made to classify by themselves similes resulting chiefly 
from reflection. Material derived entirely from oral tradition, 
tales of travellers, and like sources may not inappropriately be 
classified with that drawn from reading. Both categories have been 
made as large as reasonably possible, so that the sum of the two 
considerably exceeds the total number of similes. For example, 
the simile of Xerxes' bridge quoted above is certainly drawn from 
the poet's reading. On the other hand, the long, carefully worked 
out simile beginning 

As one who, long in populous city pent, 

in Paradise Lost, ix, 445, seems as certainly to have been derived 
from the experience of Milton's life in the country at Horton. But 
what shall we say of such a simile as that further on at verse 670 ? 

As when of old some orator renowned 

fin Athens or free Rome, where eloquence 

Flourished, since mute, to some great cause addressed, 

Stood in himself collected, while each part, 

Motion, each act, won audience ere the tongue 

Sometimes in highth began, as no delay 

Of preface brooking through his zeal of right. 

Such a simile would certainly not be written by one who had not 
read or heard something of classical life and classical authors. But 


could it have been written by one who had not also rather carefully 
observed for himself the ways of orators in the world about him? 
Such similes seem justifiably assignable to both categories and have 
so been here assigned. Again, despite the large part which the 
poet's invention has played in many, indeed most, similes, it has 
seemed reasonably possible to assign all similes some basis in the 
poet's experience of books or of the world of sights and sounds. 
AVith these conditions of classification made clear, then, it is possible 
to state rather definitely the probable sources of Milton's detached 

The first class, drawn from reading and oral tradition, comprises 
approximately 25 similes; the second class, derived from observa- 
tion, includes approximately 46, or nearly twice as many as the 
first. This result is the more surprising when one considers how 
learned a poet, among great poets, Milton is. 

The two main classes have been subdivided. The resulting 
subdivisions will doubtless seem more arbitrary than the main 
divisions. They have been dictated by obvious considerations and 
by certain personal predilections. The sub-categories of the first 
main division, that based on reading and tradition, seemed obvious. 
They are : first, the Greek and Roman classics ; second, the Hebrew 
and Christian Scriptures (including the uncanonical books) ; third, 
the fairy-lore of England, probably coming to Milton, in large 
part, through oral tradition; and fourth, the large fund of 
geographic and pseudo-geographic material, the common property 
of the Age of Exploration and Discovery, and probably coming to 
Milton partly through books of the period and partly through the 
tales of travellers which he heard more or less directly material, 
indeed, which must have held intense interest for practically every- 
one in the England of Milton's time. As one might expect, the 
largest of these classes is that of the Greek and Roman classics ; it 
includes 12 similes, or practically half of all in this main division. 
Surprisingly small, when one considers the theological aims of the 
two epics, seems the second class, that of the Hebrew and Christian 
Scriptures; it includes only 3 similes one from the Old Testa- 
ment 'canon, one from the Old Testament Apocrypha, and one from 
the New Testament. So much more intimate or more tractable 
poetic material, then, did Milton find his classical than his Scrip- 
tural learning in poems whose theme is Scriptural. The third 


class, that of English folklore, has 4 examples. The fourth class, 
that of far-drawn geographic material., seems to have fallen in 
better with the kind of romance which P. L. represents; it has <> 

The second main division, that of material derived from observa- 
tion, has had to be subdivided on a more arbitrary basis and its 
subdivisions have a much greater tendency to overlap not only one 
another, but also the last subdivision of the first class. The 
categories adopted are : first, human material ; and second, natural, 
as distinct from human, material. The size of the first category, 
that of distinctively human material, may seem at first sight 
surprisingly large to some readers of Milton; it contains 14 clear 
examples, and could have been expanded several times over by 
means of the inclusion of every simile in which man enters. It 
may be interesting to note that the mention of Galileo's telescope 
occurs in three similes. Much the largest of all the subdivisions 
is that made up of similes dealing with material primarily of the 
world of Nature certainly a strong proof of the poet's interest 
in the observation of Nature; this class includes 32 similes, or 
considerably more than the main division of material drawn from 
books and tradition and not far from half of all the similes. The 
material in this class deals chiefly with sky (perhaps oftenest used), 
mountains, trees, animals, insects, and the sea. Undoubtedly the 
kinds of material oftenest used are those calculated to produce the 
large effects consonant with the nature of the epic narrative. Sky 
and mountains naturally proved exceedingly suitable material. 
There are 12 similes dealing with the sea usually the sea belonging 
to the experience of mariners who used sailing vessels, rather than 
the sea of those who dwelt by the shore another proof of the strong 
hold upon Milton's imagination taken by the national experience 
of maritime England in the days of Elizabeth, the Stuarts, and the 
Lord Protector. 

In conclusion, it may not be very wide of the mark to assert the 
belief that Milton's treatment of detached similes, like his treat- 
ment of Satan and the rebel angels in the opening books of P. L., 
proves him, a Renaissance poet by training and environment and 
a Classical poet by intention, to have been by temperament quite as 
much what we should today call a Romantic poet. 



Table of Detached Similes in Milton's Paradise Lost and 
Paradise Regained. 

Paradise Lost 

Book Book 

Book Book 

Book iBook Book Book 



an iv 



197-200 285-290 

38-40 159-165 

261-263 195-198 66-68 None. 


200-208 488-495 

431-439 168-171 

264-266 310-315 


230-237 533-538 

543-551 183-187 


287-291 542-546 



292-294 636-642 



302-304 659-661 



304-311 662-666 



594-599 708-711 

Book Book 


612-615 714-718 



768-775 943-947 

273-278 None. 


781-788 1017-1018 












I, IT, and in 









The edition of Milton used is the Complete Poetical Works, 
edited by William Vaughn Moody, in the Cambridge Poets 
(Boston, 1899). 




The earliest date of Pope's Lines on Atticus x is fixed by the 
couplet written after his publication of the Iliad, June 6, 1715, 

1 See Preface to The Epistle to Arbuthnot and the appendix of the versions 
given in Courthope's Pope, Vol. in. 


Who when two wits on rival themes contest 
Approves them both but likes the worst the best, 

by Lintot's notification on June 10 of the " malice and juggle at 
Button's," by Garth's "everybody liked your Iliad but a few at 
Button's/' and by Gay's letter of July 8, saying, '' I am convinced 
that at Button's your character is made very free with, as to 
morals, etc." 

Johnson gives the last couplet of the ( first ' version thus : 

Who would not smile? if such a man there be ? 
Who would not laugh 3 if Addison were he? 

and the same couplet of the ( next ' version, 

Who would not grieve if such a man there be? 
Who would not laugh if Addison were he? 

The third and fourth versions, those of Cythereia and Curll's 
Miscellany, read ' laugh; weep/ and the 'meaner' quill of the 
former has become ' venal ' in the latter following Pope's credence 
of the Earl of Warwick's story, December, 1715, Addison's praise 
of Pope's Iliad in the Freeholder of May 7, 1716, would fix the 
limit beyond which even Pope would not have expressed himself. 

Atterbury's 4 " I could be content to be sneered at in a line or 
so, for the sake of the pleasure I should have in reading the rest ; 
I have talked my sense of this matter to you once or twice," 
indicates that Pope did not send the ' Lines ' to Addison, for, in 
that case, the reading would have been ' the pleasure I had had in 
reading the rest ' ; but a highly tempered edge, an increased unity 
following the re-arrangement of couplets, a deeper subtlety through 
the interchange of ' scornful ' and ' jealous/ ' write ' and ' live/ and 
fin insidious refinement substituting 'hint' for 'hit' and 'too 
fond ' for ' resolved/ suggest that Pope intended this fourth sketch 
for Addison's eyes. 

At least Pope's contention that the lines were written before 
Addison's death must be true ; Tor Nichols, Warton, and Chambers 5 
state that they were published in 1717 with an ' Answer ' by Jere- 

3 Italics are mine. 

3 Johnson's Life of Pope. 

* Letter to Pope, Feb. 26, 1722. 

" See also D. N. B. 


miah Markland. Markland certainly does not charge Pope with 
having attacked Addison after his death, but on the contrary, urges 
him to write " as each envious hint arises." This publication of 
1717 is probably the same that appeared in Cythereia, 1723. 

The fifth version of The St. James's Journal, Dec. 15, 1722, 
substitutes ' grieve ' ; ' weep ' for the ' laugh ' ; ' weep ' of the 
preceding ones, since Addison is dead, interchanges the Dennis- 
Gildon couplets, and omits letters from the names of Addison, 
Dennis, and Gildon, thereby suggesting that this was for publica- 
tion : 6 


Button's, 12 Decemb. 1722 

I hear several people have thought fit to quarrel with me for my 
opinion of Philaster, which I shall take an opportunity to justify 
as to the Fable, Sentiments, and Diction, when I have nothing 
better to entertain you with. I take notice, that several of my 
gloomy Brethren of this Coffee-House, are not able to comprehend 
whether I am a Friend or an Enemy ; whether I am heartily in the 
Interests of the Theatre, or else am secretly growling over some 
old Grudge, which I don't care to own. At present I shall only 
declare that a Dramatic Piece finely written, and justly represented, 
is, in my opinion, a most reasonable entertainment, and is capable 

6 The St. James's Journal published three letters signed Dorimant in 
1722, dated from Button's, Nov. 18, Dec. 3, and Dec. 12 (see The St. James's 
Journal, Nov. 22, Dec. 8, Dec. 15). The first contains a criticism of Steele's 
The Conscious Lovers, the second continues it and makes some comment on 
Philaster and Alexander, while the third introduces the ' Lines ' (see above). 
That Popian authorship is possible, we offer the following suggestions: 

( 1 ) The ' Lines ' prepared for publication were enclosed in the last letter ; 

(2) The satire of the letters is of Popian flavor and measure; (3) The 
words are selected and combined in Pope's systematical way; (4) The 
attitude towards the stage and belief in ' Closet Representation ' as a test 
of drama are natural opinions for one who, although he ' professes Poetry,' 
does not write for the stage; (5) No other writer probably, except Pope, 
would object so strongly to his reputation's being fixed at Button's; (6) 
The observations in translating Terence and Horace suggest Pope; (7) The 
reflections on Colley Gibber are Popian; (8) The signature, Dorimant (or 
Rake of Wit), is a likely one for Pope to assume. (See his Farewell to 
London, in which he calls himself 

The gayest valetudinaire 
Most thinking rake alive. ) 


of being made a very useful one; but that the Reputation of my 
Understanding ought to rise or fall at Button's Coffee-House, just 
as my Subject happens to lead me to censure or commend the 
Transactions of the Neighboring Stage, is certainly very unjust 
Usage of your Humble Servant, 


P. S. The following Lines have been 
in good Reputation here, and are now 
submitted to Publick Censure. 

If meaner Gil n draws his venal Quill, 

I wish the Man a dinner, and sit still; 
If Den s rails and raves in furious Pet, 
I'll answer Den s when I am in Debt: 
'Tis Hunger, and not Malice makes them print; 
And who'd wage War with Bedlam or the Mint? 
But were there one whom better Stars conspire, 
To form a Bard, or raise his Genius higher; 
Bleat with each Talent, and each Art to please, 
And born to write, converse, and live with Ease; 
Should such a Man, too fond to reign alone, 
Bear, like the Turk, no Brother to the Throne; 
View him with scornful, yet with jealous Eyes, 
And hate for Arts which caus'd himself to rise, 
Damn with faint Praise, assent with civil Leer, 
And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; 
Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, 
Just hint Affront, and hesitate Dislike; 
Alike reserv'd to blame, or to commend, 
A tim'rous Foe, and a suspicious Friend? 
Fearing ev'n Fools, by Flatterers besieg'd, 
And so obliging, that he ne'er oblig'd; 
Who, when two Wits in Rival Themes contest, 
Approves of each, but likes the worst the best; 
Like Cato gives his little Senate Laws, 
And sits attentive to his own Applause; 
Whilst wits and Templers every Sentence raise, 
And wonder with a foolish Face of Praise: 
Who but must grieve, if such a Man there be? 
Who would not weep if Ad n were he! 


The Manuscript at Longleat. in Pope's hand, was sent to Lord 
Harley before May, 1724. It is in detail very different from the 
preceding version, and very like the succeeding one of the ' Frag- 
ment.' These alone The Manuscript and the ' Fragment ' use 


' furious fret/ ' to rule,' ' Or ' at the beginning of the former 
' Willing-to- wound ' couplet, and ' What pity, Heaven ' ; they alone 
depart from, 

But were there one whom better Stars conspire 
To form a Bard, and raise his genius higher; 

they alone give ' A n.' 

The authorized ' Fragment ' was published in 1727, the seventh 
known version before the publication of The Epistle to Arbuthnot, 
January 2, 1735. 


University of Iowa. 


Many Elizabethans had at least a smattering of languages which 
do not enter into the school curriculum in this country, and so the 
editors content themselves with dismissing as mere gibberish words 
that they do not understand. To quote an instance, Thomas Nash 
makes a pun in Russian * by substituting his own name for the 
Kussian pronoun nas ('us') in the well known litany 2 : gospodi 
pamihrj nas ! which means ' God have mercy on us.' Again Beau- 
mont and Fletcher 3 use the Russian words colpack and rubasca 
('cap' and ' shirt'). Their present day St. Petersburg pronun- 
ciation is ka/pak and rubashka. I indicate the stress in the usual 
way, namely by an acute accent. The passage containing these 
Eussian words may be safely attributed to Fletcher, who had greater 
facilities for learning Russian than his collaborators. There are 
also easily recognizable Russian names among the dramatis personae 
of his play, The Loyal Subject, such as PutsJci (pushkin). Burris 
(baris) and BorosTcie, which stands for the common Polish name 

The object of the present article is to explain the Welsh words 
one finds scattered here and there in the English Drama. The 

1 Thomas Nash, Have with you to Saffron-Walden, ed. J. P. Collier, 
London, 1870, p. 42. 

2 1 use Henry Sweet's method of transcribing Russian words. See H. 
Sweet's "Russian Pronunciation " (Transactions of the London Philological 
Society, 1877-79, pp. 543-561). 

3 Beaumont and Fletcher's Wit at Several Weapons i, 2. 


Welsh expression most commonly met with in the English plays 4 
is Duw gadwa chwi (' God keeps you! '), a variant of which, Duw 
gam chwi (' God loves you ! '), is also current in Wales. The Irish 
parallel to this Welsh greeting is the well known go mbeannuighidh 
Dia agus Muire dhuit (' God and Mary bless you!'). One meets 
also occasionally the exclamation Duw gwyn 5 (' White God'), al- 
though I am not aware of its being very current in Wales. The 
Welsh way of bidding good-bye, namely Nos dawch (' good night '), 
occurs occasionally. 6 The Valiant Welshman seems to have been 
very fond of the Welsh national dish 7 caws pobi (' toasted cheese '), 
but the use of the preposition wedi (' after') to designate the per- 
fect has become so general that the Welshman says nowadays caws 
wedi pobi. 

The English Dramatists knew how to say dig on 8 ('enough'), 
and sometimes even they had enough of Welsh 9 ( dig on o Gym- 
raeg). The expression Taw a son ('hold your tongue') occurs 
also quite frequently. Fletcher 1X uses the verbal form gwnaethem 
('we had made'). The word Sidanen ('what is silken, fine wo- 
man ') occurs only once. 12 Welsh proper names are found scat- 
tered here and there such as Gwynedd 13 ('North Wales'), Aber- 
honddu 14 ('Brecon') and Madoc ap Siencin. 15 

The Chaste Maid of Cheapside contains a long sentence in 
Welsh 16 but only the beginning of it has a familiar sound to me : 

4 Beaumont and Fletcher's Custom of the Country I, 2; Monsieur Thomas 
I, 2; The Night-Walker in, 6; Mdddleton's Chaste Maid of Cheapside, I, 1. 

5 Beaumont and Fletcher's The Night-Walker III, 6; Webster's Northward 
Hoe iv, 2. 

* Valiant Welshman I, 3. 

7 Valiant Welshman i, 2 and rv, 1. 

8 Webster's Northward Hoe n, 1; Ben Jonson's The Honour of Wales 
(Works of Ben Jonson, ed. Gifford, vii, 330). 

The Valiant Welshman rv, 3, and Shirley's The Wedding in, 2. 

10 Webster's Northward Hoe rv, 1 and v, 1; Ben Jonson's Honour of 
Wales (Works vn, 320). 

11 Wit at Several Weapons I, 2. 

" Northward Hoe u, 1. iCf. Thomas Fitzgerald's nickname ' The Silken 

"Beaumont and Fletcher's The Night-Walker rrr, 6. 

14 The Night-Walker in, 6. 

15 Northicard Hoe II, 1. 

M Middleton's The Chaste Maid of Cheapside iv, 1. 



A fedrwch chwi cymraeg ('can you Welsh?'), although in Welsh 
as well as in English it would be more correct to put in the word 
siarad (' talk'). 

The sentence in Northward- Hoe 17 is much easier to transcribe 
and amounts to mi caraf chwi a'm holl galon (' I love you with 
all my heart'). 

The English plays in which Welsh words occur most frequently 
are Ben Jonson's For the Honour of Wales and The Pleasant 
Comodie of Patient Grissill, but the Welsh expressions contained 
in these two plays have been already explained by Gifford in his 
edition of Ben Jonson's Works and by H. Zimmer in his classic 
paper on the subject. 18 


Clark University. 


English-German Literary Influences. Bibliography and Survey. 
By LAWRENCE MARSDEN PRICE. University of California 
Publications in Modern Philology, Vol. 9. 

L. M. Price von der Deutschen Abteilung der Universitat von 
Kalifornien hat den ersten bibliographischen Teil seines Werkes 
1919 veroffentlicht und schon damit eine hb'chst anerkennungs- 
vverte und erfolgreiche Arbeit geleistet. Meine Notiz in den M.L.N. 
xxxiv, 511 sollte nur das Erscheinen der Bibliographic kurz anzeigen. 
Jetzt ist der zweite Teil erschienen, der den bibliographischen Stoff 
verarbeitet und kritisch abwagend den gesamten Stand der For- 
schung in diesem Grenzgebiet darzustellen versucht. Fiel schon 
beim ersten Teil der sorgfaltige Fleiss auf, so wird man beim 
zweiten die Kiihnheit des ganzen Unternehmens gewahr; und mit 
beidem hat sich der Verf asser den Dank aller Interessirten verdient. 

Die Bibliographie bringt zuerst theoretische Werke zur verglei- 
chenden Literaturgeschichte und allgemeine Ueberblicke. Dann 
werden im ersten Hauptteil das 16., 17. und 18. Jahnhundert 

17 Northward Hoe n, 1. 

18 " Das kymrische in 'The Pleasant Comodie of Patient Grissill." (Zeit- 
schrift fur celtische Philologie in (1901), 574-594). 


verzeichnet, aber ohne Shakespeare, im zweiten Hauptteil mir 
Shakespeare in Deutschland, d. h. vom 17. bis 19. Jahrhundert, 
and im dritten das 19. Jahrhundert ohne Shakespeare. Ausser 
einigen Sonderabteilungen, dem Vorkommen, Einfluss und Spielplan 
der englischen Komodianten und der amerikanischen Revolution, 
\verden jedesmal getrennt: Influence of English Literature on 
specific German Authors und Influence of specific English Authors 
on German Literature. Im letzten Teil gibt es noch General 
American Influences. 

Im Survey ist eine kurze Einfiihrung in den Plan des Werkes, 
daran schliessen sich den drei Hauptteilen der Bibliographic ent- 
sprechend 24 Kapitel, die einzelnen Dichtern, Kritikern oder 
Werken gewidmet sind. Fur " Shakespeare in Deutschland " be- 
kommen sogar Bohtlingks und Gundolfs Werke ihre Sonderkapitel. 
Der Schlussteil enthalt Kapitel 19 : das 19. Jahrhundert im allge- 
meinen, 20 : Scott, 21 : Byron, 22 : Dickens, 23 : Amerika in der 
deutschen Literatur und 24: das 20. Jahrhundert. Part II hat 
eine alphabetische Inhaltsangabe der Einfliisse, wahrend I. eine 
Liste der Forscher enthalt. 

TJeber die Anlage des Gesamtwerkes lasst sich m. E. nicht viel 
streiten. Es ist durchaus notig Shakespeare abzusondern, nur 
mochte ich ihn fur sich am Ende der Bibliographic wissen. In- 
nerhalb der Jahrhunderte wiirde ich die betreffenden Abschnitte 
in der Bibliographic auch durch den Druck hervorheben. Ich 
bezweifle, dass es weise ist, die englische Literatur von den einzel- 
nen englischen Dichtern zu trennen. Allgemeineres konnte in die 
Allgemeinberichte der einzelnen Jahrhunderte passen, alles andere 
ware am besten alphabetisch einzuordnen. Die Bibliographic in 
der vorliegenden Form ist einseitig praktisch fur das Englische, 
aber ziemlich verwirrend fiir deutsche Dichter und Literaturge- 
biete. Auf alle Falle miisste das Gesamtwerk eine wirkliche voll- 
standige Inhaltsangabe haben, die es ermoglicht, z. B. alles iiber 
Schiller rasch beisammen zu finden. Und beim Index der Biblio- 
graphic sollten auch "reviewers" den "investigators" zugesellt 
werden, weil sie zusammengehoren und meistens ein und die selben 
sind. Die Behandlung von Bohtlingk und Gundolf im Shake- 
speare- Abschnitt auf fast 45 Seiten konnte gut zusammengedrangt 
\vorden. An Kleinigkoiten : S. 289 fehlt Anmerkung 17 und S. 


474 Arnn. 2d, S. 127 muss das Jahr fiir Scaligers Poetices 1561, 
nicht 1761 heissen, Anm. 58 auf S. 376 gehb'rt zu S. 375. 

Ueber Prices eigene Stellungnahme unterrichtet sein Survey 
verschiedentlich, vor allem in der Einleitung. Er beschrankt sich 
mit wissenschaftlicher Absieht auf die Einfliisse der englischen 
Literatur auf die deutsche. Im Punkte Einfluss ist er sehr vor- 
sichtig. Dagegen setzt er sich der Kritik aus, wenn er die kenn- 
zeichnenden Unterschiede der Nationalliteratur bezweifelt und 
meint : " For almost every second or third rate author in one coun- 
try it is possible to find a counterpart in another, and if we direct 
attention to the geniuses of first rank we are by no means nearer 
to a definition in terms of nationality; Luther and Goethe were 
as unlike each other as Shakespeare was unlike both." Luther und 
Goethe haben trotzdem etwas gemein, was sie beide von Shake- 
speare trennt. Und alle deutschen Kritiker Shakespeares z. B. 
haben etwas gemein, was sie von den englischsprechenden trennt. 
Ein schlagender Beweis ist Gundolfs Shakespearebuch auf der 
einen Seite und etwa G. L. Kittredges Shakespeare-Kede von 1916 
auf der andern. Es mag nicht leicht sein, es mag auch noch nicht 
geleistet worden sein, dieses Besondere der deutschen und engli- 
schen Literatur genau zu bezeichnen, aber es bleibt eine grund- 
legende Aufgabe der Literaturwissenschaft und des Unterrichts 
gleich jener Frage nach dem Amerikanertum in der Literatur. 

Mit verschiedenen Einzelurteilen oder Folgerungen Prices bin 
ich nicht einverstanden. So ware Gundolfs Auffassung von 
Shakespeare viel scharfer und rmchterner anzupacken. Der 
Glaube an den literarischen Internationalismus verfiihrt Price zu 
einigen schiefen Urteilen. So erklart er S. 154 bei den engli- 
schen Komodianten die verschiedene Aufnahme, die das deutsche 
und englische Publikum Shakespeare bereitet haben, einfach mit 
differences of maturity rather than of race. Bei der allgemeinen 
Kennzeichnung des 18. Jahrhunderts wird S. 157 manche Folge- 
rung in Max Kochs Studie iiber Beziehungen der englischen Lite- 
ratur zu der deutschen weise eingeschrankt, jedoch darauf behaup- 
tet, " that the English influence on German literature in the eigh- 
teenth century was largely a formal one." Gundolfs Dreiteilung 
der Einfliisse spukt hier nach, leider sind aber Staff, Form und 
Gehalt nicht so sauberlich und zeitlich genau zu trennen, wie 
Price anzunehmen scheint; sie sind ebensowenig auseinanderzu- 


reissen wie " klassisch " und " romantisch." J. G. Robertsons iiber- 
triebener Ausspruch : " Richardson was the sole founder of the 
modern German novel " hatte nicht so selbstverstandlich hingenom- 
men werden diirfen. Im 19. Jahrhundert fahren Kleist und Heb- 
bel wenig gut. S. 473 \vird Fpntanes englischen Aufenthalt nur in 
der Poesie ein Einfluss zugesprochen. Einige Belege zur entge- 
gengesetzten Auffassung brachte schon mein Aufsatz liber Fontane 
und England (1915). Bei Scott wird Fontaiie, wenigstens im 
Survey, ganz ausgelassen. S. 486 ff. wird beim Verhaltnis der 
Jungdeutschen zu England meine Rezension der Dissertation von 
John Whyte, in den M . L. N. xxxm, 168-172, besprochen und 
u. a. kritisiert, dass ich vom Jahre 1850 als einem Wendepunkt in 
der seelischen Haltung der Deutschen England gegeniiber rede. 
Zwischen Whytes Belegen (abschliessendes versucht seine Arbeit 
nicht) und meinen Worten vermag ich auch heute keinen Wider- 
spruch herauszufinden. Bei Scott (S. 501) sucht Price eine 
andere Stelle aus meiner Besprechung zu entkraften, worin ich vor 
der Ueberschatzung des tatsachlichen nachweisbaren Einflusses 
Scotts warnte. Karl Wengers Arbeit iiber die historischen Romane 
deutscher Romantiker, besonders S. 89 f., findet bei Arnim wirklich 
keinen Scott-Einfluss. Mit Tieck steht es anders. Fur die Be- 
handlung von Wilibald Alexis, S. 502 ff. hat sich Price wie manche 
vor ihm Fontanes sehr gescheiten " Essai " iiber Alexis entgehen 
lassen, siehe Aus dem Nachlass, 2. Auflage, Berlin 1908, SS. 169- 
218, worin wertvolle Worte iiber Alexis und Scott gesagt werden. 
Endlich beschaftigt sich Price, S. 571, auch mit meiner Studie iiber 
deutsche und amerikanische Romane, die ich 1916 im Germanistic 
Society Quarterly, New York, in, 96-105; 158-117, veroffentlichte. 
Selbst ich muss fur seine kosmopolitische Theorie herhalten: His 
review would make it appear that our (i. e. American) novel is 
becoming less puritanical, less colonial, more philosophical, in other 
words that in essentials it is itself gradually assuming European 
characteristics. Nor is this to be wondered at. It is usual that 
the more primitive literature lends to the older ones new subject 
matter, " Stoff," but accepts from the older ones in return " Form " 
and " Gehalt." Auf gut deutsch hiesse es, dass der amerikanische 
Roman je entwickelter umso europaischer wiirde. Das kb'nnte ich 
niemals vertreten, da ich seit Jahren genade dem Amerikanertum 
in der Literatur nachgehe. Anderes im 23. Kapitel, "America in 


German Literature," wird sehr richtig dargestellt, z. B. die Whit- 
man mania als an isolated and abnormal instance of German in- 
terest in an American poet abgetan, aber der Schlussabsatz endet 
recht toricht, nachdem gesagt wurde, es batten die deutsche und 
amerikanische Literatur um 1850 aufgehort einander zu beeinflus- 
sen and Germany about the same time began to regard the realm 
of the air as unworthy of her powers and turned her attention to 
the dominion of the earth. Man denke, als der poetische Real- 
ismus eben einsetzte und alle die grossen Dramen, Romane und 
Novellen des 19. Jahrhunderts geschaffen wurden ! 


Etude sur le Lancelot en prose, par FERDINAND LOT. Bibliotheque 
de Fficole des Hautes fitudes, No. 226. Paris, Champion, 
1918. 452 pp. 

The discovery of the previous generation of mediaeval scholars 
was that mediaeval writers were conservative. In the twelfth cen- 
tury a story-teller still departed from the traditional version at his 
peril. This conservatism accounts for a host of survivals in twelfth- 
and thirteenth-century texts that interest the anthropologist and 
the historian of primitive religion. It was these vestiges of an 
earlier and more picturesque world that appealed to the romanti- 
cists who, in the nineteenth century, discovered the Middle Ages. 
It was these fossils of a far earlier time that interested Gaston 
Paris and still interest most of his pupils in twelfth-century French 

The discovery of the present generation of Arthurian students is 
that writers of mediaeval romance were progressive. To the scholar 
who succeeded Gaston Paris in the College de France, anthropology, 
mythology, folk-lore, even comparative literature, were distinctly 
uncongenial, if not actually repugnant. M. Bedier, even in his first 
work, Les Fabliaux, shows clearly his impatience of studies which, 
exhausting themselves in discovering the history of the transmission 
of a given twelfth-century story, leave out of account everything 
that the twelfth century contributed to it. To M. Bedier the 
materials which the author used were of no more interest than the 


quarries from which the stone was drawn for Rheims Cathedral. 
He proceeded, therefore, in his following work to turn his back 
upon the search for sources and to devote himself to studying the 
literature of the twelfth century as the expression of the ideas of 
twelfth-century men. 

Other scholars, chiefly French, have followed his example. The 
Tristan romance, the chansons de geste and the Roman de Renard 
have thus been given their rightful place in the history of French 
literature. M. Lot's study of the Lancelot-Graal now adds another 
important genre to those already reclaimed for literature. A typi- 
cal French prose romance, hitherto regarded as a conglomerate 
more or less accidentally brought into its present form, is here 
studied for the first time as the reflection of a thirteenth-century 
idea rather than as a collection of fossils. 

The Lancelot-Graal is a biography of Lancelot, including the 
story of the Holy Grail brought to the island of Britain by Lance- 
lot's ancestor and revealed at last to Lancelot's son, a biography 
ending with the tragic story of the destruction of the Table Round, 
the consequence of Lancelot's sin with Arthur's queen. 

The Lancelot-Graal was not the first romance to present in 
sequence the history of the Grail, the story of an Arthurian Grail 
hero, the treason of Modred, and the tale of Arthur's death. A 
prose trilogy on this subject already existed, the Joseph-Merlin- 
Perceval (including a Mort d' Arthur) associated with the name of 
Robert de Boron. 1 A French poem, which Ulrich von Zatzikhoven 
translated, had given a biography of Lancelot ; Chrestien de Troyes 
had elevated him to the position of the Queen's chosen lover, avail- 
ing himself for that purpose of a tradition about the abduction of 
Guinevere, and borrowing hints for its treatment from a similar 
incident in the Tristan story; Robert de Boron, and possibly 
Wauchier, had given a Christian coloring to Chrestien's Grail story ; 
and in the wealth of incident about Tristan, Gawain, Perceval, and 
other knights current in French romance and Latin chronicle, a 
mine of material lay ready at hand. To introduce all this into the 
framework of the Joseph-Merlin-Perceval trilogy did not require 
a striking degree of originality. What is, however, striking and 

*Cf. Lot, p. 133, 188. Critics are not agreed as to the authorship, date, 
or sources of the Perceval. 


original in the Lancelot-Graal. is that here Lancelot becomes for 
the first time the central figure in the Arthurian story and, through 
Galahad his son, of the Grail Quest as well. Perceval and Arthur 
are reduced to a subordinate position. The whole cycle is thus 
given a new unity and a new significance. 2 

M. Lot does not in the least contend that the Lancelot-Graal is 
the creation of an individual author in the same sense as David 
Copperfield or Clarissa Harlowe or even as King Lear or Winter's 
Tale. He recognizes clearly that the parts are still to be regarded 
as remaniemenis, however thorough and extensive, of earlier texts. 
He is interested in determining the purposes and method of the 
remaniement* The two chapters entitled Sources et elaboration 
de I'ceuvre are among the most illuminating passages in the history 
of the criticism of mediaeval French literature. 

It is in the Quete.ihai the Lancelot-Graal has operated the mosi 
profound changes in the story. To retell it for the edification of 
the orthodox involved a host of difficulties : How could a Christian 
interpretation be given to the Lance? the Cup? the Sword? the 
Maimed King? the Fisher King? the Perilous Seat? To oust 
Perceval and to give the glory of the winning of the Grail to a son 
of Lancelot was an undertaking that bristled with dilemmas : How 
could the conception of Galahad take place in so sacred a spot as 
the Castle of Corbenic? But how could it take place anywhere 
else if he was to be the grandson of the Grail King? How could 
he be born there without destroying the mystery and the difficulty 
of the Quest? But how could the daughter of the Grail King, 
without an undue amount of unseemly adventure, bear him any- 
where else to an errant knight unwilling to espouse her? How 
could the perfect knight be a child born out of wedlock ? But how 
could he Jbe other than illegitimate if Lancelot was to keep his 
faith to Guinevere? 

A careful study of the contradictions and ambiguities of the 
Lancelot-Graal shows them to be due for the most part to the effort 
to Christianize the motifs furnished by its sources. This effort 
" involved the author in dilemmas from which he succeeded in 

2 Cf. esp. pp. 168-71, 183, 190-1, 193, 203, 205, 249, 261, 289-91. 

3 Pp. 205, 213, 215, 260. 


extricating himself only with the greatest difficulty, at the price of 
perpetual artifices, sometimes clumsy and sometimes subtle." 4 

" Author " is the word M. Lot uses, not " redactor " or " com- 
piler " or " interpolator." He states the thesis of his study in his 
first chapter as follows : 

" Le corpus Lancelot-Graal [i. e. the seven volumes in Sommer's series], 
deduction faite du Merlin et de ses suites [i. e. Sommer's volumes 2 and 7], 
qui sont certainement postiches, est du a un seul auteur. II presente sous 
une diversite apparente une unite de conception et de plan certaine. Ce 
n'est pas 1'ceuvre romanesque et mystique la plus parfaite du moyen-age 
frangais, mais e'en est, a coup sur, la plus puissante." 5 

To establish the fact that the Lancelot-Graal is the production 
of a single author, M. Lot shows that the Lancelot biography, com- 
posed with the shrewd attempt to pass as history, carries the chron- 
ological thread through a labyrinth of adventures with a tenacity 
which can be attributed only to the conscious design of an artist. 
He devotes two chapters to showing that the concatenation of 
presage and retrospect is scrupulously preserved in the cycle as a 
whole, giving it complete unity of plan. He shows that the episodes 
are interwoven and dovetailed in such a way that if one is stricken 
out the whole series is disturbed. He shows that the sources used 
are the same throughout the cycle. 6 

4 P. 260. 

5 Pp. 7-8. 

8 The view of Prof. J. D. Bruce who recently published an extensive study 
on the composition of the Lancelot in the Romanic Review, may be sum- 
marized as follows: "The Lancelot was composed as a separate work, 
without any thought of the Grail, but later became contaminated with the 
Grail story. The Quete was also originally written as a separate work, 
the author wishing to replace Perceval by a more ascetic hero. The 
Mort Artu was next composed; then the Estoire to supply an early history 
of the Grail which should accord with the Quete. Lastly the Merlin was 
written. There was no concert among the men who wrote these romances. 
They came into existence in the same way as the chansons de geste of the 
Guillaume d'Orange cycle or the Old Greek cyclic epics about Troy. Finally, 
however, recognizing the cyclic character of these romances, inspired, per- 
haps, by the cyclic plan which Robert de Boron, at least, partially executed, 
assembleurs brought them together in single manuscripts or series of 
manuscripts, and made some interpolations, but not a great many, some 
of which were designed to fit them more closely to one another." The 
summary here quoted is an extract from a personal letter. 

Cf. Rom. Review, ir (1918), 243 ff., x (1919), 377-88. 

What Prof. Bruce credits to this series of assembleurs M. Lot credits to 


Further investigation may modify M. Lot's conclusion to the 
extent of distinguishing the work of more than one hand in the 
Lancelot-Graal, but his book has demonstrated that the Estoire, 
the Lancelot, the Quete and the Mort Artu are parts of a conscious 
and unified artistic design. 

Previous critics have been fortified in the hypothesis of multiple 
authorship by the contrast between the gross sensuality of certain 
passages in the Lancelot and the intense asceticism permeating the 
Quete. How far an antinomy of this sort is compatible with single 
authorship is a question which critics will answer differently 
according to their different observation of life. To the present 
reviewer this inconsistency seems characteristic of a number of 
mediaeval authors. Asceticism and mysticism have been in all ages 
the refuge of ardent souls tormented by sensuality. Colder natures 
can better preserve a middle path. The fact that in some parts 
the Lancelot-Graal is under the influence of Wauchier, in whom 
the same dual spirit is manifest, should also be taken into account. 
Another argument advanced in behalf of multiple authorship is 
the length of the romance. But even if the Lancelot-Graal were 
as original a work as a modern novel, it would be entirely within 
the limits of one man's powers. Otherwise Le Grand Cyrus and 
the Rougon-Macquart and the Waverley novels are prodigies. 

M. Lot sets the composition of the work between 1214 and 1227, 
and limits the Estoire even more narrowly to the years 1221-5. 
He believes the author to have belonged to the secular clergy and 
to have been attached as chaplain to the court of some feudal lord, 
a count of Champagne or Flanders. The terminus ad quern seems 
to the present reviewer very imperfectly established. M. Lot puts 
it at 1227 from the fact that Manessier seems to have been 
acquainted with the Lancelot-Graal and that Manessier says he 
wrote at the request of " Jeanne la comtesse qu'est de Flandres 
dame et maitresse." But as M. Lot himself recognizes in a footnote 
the fact that, her husband having been released from prison, Jeanne 
ceased, in 1227, to be sole mistress of Flanders, does not make that 

a single assembleur and calls him author. The difference between the two 
points of view is the difference between the tendency to minimize the ori- 
ginality and unity of the remaniement and the tendency to emphasize it. 
In view of the overwhelming body of new evidence presented by M. Lot, 
the burden of proof must rest on those who refuse to accept his conclusions. 


date a necessary terminus ad quern. She may well have been 
alluded to as " de Flandres dame et maitresse " as late as 1244. 
The later date would fit better into the development of French 
fiction as at present conceived. 7 

To signalize all that is new and important in M. Lot's book is 
impossible within the limits of the present review. The chapter on 
Les Destines de I'CEuvre, of the utmost importance for the history 
of the French prose romances, must pass with bare mention. Like- 
wise the two charming literary essays by Mme. Lot-Borodine. It is 
regrettable that the book has no index. The selection of illustra- 
tions from fifteenth-century manuscripts is difficult to account for. 
Thirteenth-century illustrations such as those reproduced from the 
Yates-Thompson manuscripts would far better represent the thir- 
teenth-century romance. 

(Mrs. Roger Sherman Loomis.) 

Vassar College. 

L'Influence des Lakistes sur les Romantiques Frangais. Par AUS- 
TIN SMITH, B. A. et M. A. Universite de Wisconsin, Lecteur 
americain a la Sorbonne 1918-1920. Paris, Jouve & Co., 1920. 
361 pp. 

II faut savoir gre a M. Austin Smith d'avoir rassemble dans son 
travail, presente en Sorbonne comme these de doctorat d'universite, 
des details non sans interet sur le culte voue aux Lakistes par une 
petite " chapelle " d'ecrivains romantiques. On y trouvera une 
etude consciencieuse et nouvelle sur Amedee Pichot, dont le Voyage 
historique et litteraire en Angleterre et en Ecosse (1825) a revele 
a un petit groupe de fideles certaines tendances des poetes lakistes 
et surtout de Wordsworth. On y verra comment Sainte-Beuve a 
non seulement imite de tres pres les Lakistes, mais s'est efforce toute 
sa vie de convertir ses contemporains a une conception d'ailleurs sin- 
gulierement retrecie des theories lakistes dont il s'etait constitue 
Papotre. On y lira enfin des pages interessantes et fines sur Bri- 

' To place the terminus ad quern at 1236 (cf. Lot, p. 135) would obviate 
one of Prof. Bruce's two chief objections to M. Lot's hypothesis. Cf. Rom. 
Rev., x (1919), 378-9. 


zeux, Maurice de Guerin et un eloge, que 1'on ne pent accepter sans 
reserves, du poete bretori Hippolyte de La Morvonnais sur qui il 
existait deja un ouvrage tres complet de 1'abbe E. Fleury (Paris. 

Quels que soient les merites fort serieux de ce travail et bien 
qu'on y trouve des apergus nouveaux sur quelques coins peu connus 
de Fhistoire de la poesie frangaise au dix-neuvieme siecle, le titre 
choisi par M. Smith faisait esperer une etude d'une toute autre 
envergure. Fort justement, 1'auteur admet lui-meme, des les pre- 
mieres lignes, que " les grands-pretres du romantisme ont fait aux 
Lakistes un accueil assez froid " (p. 27), plus loin que c'est Saint e- 
Beuve " presque tout seul qui a su enrichir la poesie f rangaise d'un 
genre hardi et nouveau qu'il a emprunte a 1'ecole anglaise " (p. 
68), ailleurs encore que " de tous les romantiques francais, a 
1'exception peut-etre d'un poete breton, La Morvonnais, il n'y a 
qu'Amedee Pichot qui ait vraiment apprecie les idees f ondamentales 
ou le grand Lakiste (Wordsworth) a puise son inspiration " (p. 
45). Dans ces conditions, on peut se demander si un titre moins 
ambitieux et moins general comme Les defenseurs et les disciples 
des Lakistes, ne repondrait pas mieux au sujet veritable de la 
these de M. Smith. 

II y aurait quelque injustice a reprocher a M. Smith d'etre tombe 
dans Ferreur d'optique commune a tous les auteurs de theses et 
d'avoir attribue une importance exageree au mouvement qu'il etu- 
diait. Je me refuse a accepter sans plus ample demonstration que 
"1'apport inestimable des Lakistes frangais, c'est qu'ils ont aide 
a ramener la poesie frangaise de son adoration traditionnelle pour 
les heros aristocratiques a un souci plus profondement humain de 
1'existence ordinaire et quotidienne" (p. 358). En depit de quel- 
ques affirmations de ce genre et de generalisations bien hardies sur 
la poesie romantique (p. 86), M. Smith est d'une prudence parfois 
excessive. Malgre les " affinites " qui existent entre Brizeux et les 
Lakistes, il recommit que Brizeux doit plus a sa Bretagne natale 
qu'a Sainte-Beuve et a Wordsworth. Malgre des ressemblances 
frappantes deja signalees par M. Legouis entre certains poemes de 
Wordsworth et d'autres poemes de Lamartine, Fauteur n'ose se pro- 
noncer nettement et evite plutot qu'il ne resout un probleme qui 
avait cependant quelque importance. Meme en admettant que dans 
des questions de ce genre il soit souvent impossible d'arriver a 


une solution precise, encore valait-il la peine de verifier dans le 
detail et de discuter textes en main, les indications donnees par M. 
Legouis. La seule affirmation de Sainte-Beuve, citee page 346, 
que Lamartine connaissait " fort legerement " les poetes anglais 
ne saurait suflfire et ne doit etre acceptee que sous toutes reserves. 
Par centre, Fauteur a montre, et c'est la, ce me semble, la partie 
la plus neuve et la plus importante de son travail, comment Victor 
Hugo a manifestement subi Finfluence de Fecole anglaise par Fin- 
termediaire de Sainte-Beuve. Par malheur, M. Smith s'est arrete 
trop tot et la encore n'a fait qu'indiquer en quelques pages (215 
a 224) un sujet qui, creuse plus a fond, meriterait a lui seul 
d'etre etudie separement. Si veritablement c'est par Fintermediaire 
du disciple frangais des Lakistes, Sainte-Beuve, que Victor Hugo 
" a ete amene a entrer avec les Feuilles d'Automne, dans la voie 
de la poesie intime " (p. 223), il aurait valu la peine de pousser 
les recherches plus loin et la encore de citer des textes precis. II 
est d'ailleurs inexact que les pieces des Feuilles d'Automne que 
cite M. Smith offrent un contraste saisissant avec "le reste de 
1'ceuvre poetique de Hugo," cette veine de poesie domestique et le 
genre democratique de poesie qui -apparait dans une piece comme 
Pour les pauvres se prolongent bien au dela jusque dans les Con- 
templations et se manifestent encore dans certains poemes de La 
Legende des Siecles comme Petit Paul ou les Pauvres gens. 

Grace a M. Smith, nous avons desormais des precisions fort utiles 
sur 1'accueil fait en France a la poesie des Lakistes anglais; nous 
savons que Sainte-Beuve et apres lui Hippolyte de La Morvonnais 
ont ignore les grands horizons ouverts par Wordsworth pour suivre 
le plus etroit des sentiers traces par les maitres anglais, toutes 
choses qui sont loin d'etre sans valeur. II reste cependant encore 
a determiner les limites de Finfluence exacte exercee par les Lakistes 
sur Lamartine et sur Victor Hugo. L'enquete vaudrait la peine 
d'etre entreprise, meme si elle ne devait donner que des resultats 

Un erratum de deux pages releve la plupart des fautes d'impres- 
sion. Quelques-unes des corrections indiquees ne s'imposent pas. 
Je ne vois aucune necessite d'ecrire appeles au lieu de appele, 
page 10, ligne 26 ; il n'etait guere utile de corriger ca ete en c'a ete 
page 19, ligne 11, pour adopter une troisierne graphic q'a ete page 
347, ligne 19; une construction moins familiere aurait d'ailleurs 


ete preferable. Si Ton s'en rapporte a la bibliographic, de Victor 
Hugo M. Smith n'aurait utilise que les Feuilles d'Automne, de 
Lamartine que Jocelyn. La simple indication de " Barat. These 
de doctorat es-lettres, Paris, 1904.," sans mention du titre, est 


Johns Hopkins University. 

Verslag van een onderzoek betreffende de betrekkingen tusschen de 
Nederlandsche en de Spaansche letterkunde in de 16 e -18 s eeuw. 
By WILLIAM DAVIDS. s'Gravenhage : Martinus Nyhoff, 1918. 
191 pp. 

Since Dozy published his Recherches sur I'histoire et la littera- 
ture de I'Espagne x no Dutch scholar of international repute has 
devoted much effort to the study of Spain. A student of Spanish 
literature may perhaps recall the name of Putman in connection 
with Calderon, but who has ever heard e. g., of Arend's Manual de 
la literatura espanola? The traditional hatred of Spain in the 
northern Netherlands may not b'e foreign to this neglect of Spanish 
studies; the fact is that even now not a single course on Spanish 
literature is given in any Dutch university; there is nowhere in 
Holland a single chair of Spanish, nor even a lectureship or a 
readership. It would no doubt be for the best interest of all 
literary research to have Holland take a more active part in the 
study of Spanish literature and history. If the book of Dr. Davids 
is the herald of a change in this direction, it should be received 
with the warmest applause. 

Sponsored by Professor Kalff of Leiden, whose broad views and 
sincere interest in comparative literature are well known, it aims to 
be in the main a complement to the important article with which, 
in 1881, the late Professor te Winkel initiated the scientific study 
of Spanish influence in Holland, and to certain other articles which 
have appeared since. 2 

1 Leiden, 1849, I860, 1881. 

2 J. te Winkel, De invloed der Spaansche letterkunde op de Nederlandsche 
in de zeventiende eeuw. Tydschrift der Maatschappy voor Nederlandsche 
. . . letterkunde, Leiden, i (1881), 59-114; A. Borgeld. Nederlandsche 
vertalingen van Cervantes' novellen. Tydschrift, xxv; R. A. Kollewyn, 


Professor te Winkel was mostly concerned with the drama, and 
found that about seventy Spanish plays had been translated into 
Dutch; thirty through French translations, the rest directly from 
the originals. Not more than one translation, however, appears to 
have been made before 1640. Mr. Davids has left the stage out of 
consideration, partly because he expected to find little new material 
in this field, partly because, if he had found unknown translations, 
the lack of modern editions of seventeenth-century Spanish 
dramatists in Dutch libraries would have proved a serious hind- 
rance ! Perhaps Mr. Davids was right in taking Mr. Gossart's 
impression as final, 3 and Kollewyn's expectations as really too 
sanguine ; nevertheless, a more painstaking search in Belgian libra- 
ries, which the war prevented Mr. Davids from completing, might 
very well have yielded surprises. 

As it is, after an introductory chapter on historical and linguistic 
relationship, Mr. Davids gives a series of chapters on Dutch trans- 
lations of the following classes of Spanish books: Amadis romances, 
romances of roguery, the Quixote (in fact only the translations of 
Lambert van den Bos), the novelas, pastoral novels, strictly didactic 
literature, works of theology, descriptions of travels, and technical 
books. x ln each case, after a short, mostly biographical, introduc- 
tion, the author prints parallel extracts of the original and of the 
Dutch translation, sometimes adding a parallel passage from the 
French version, tries to decide whether the translation was made 
directly or not, and expresses his opinion as to its faithfulness and 
eventual literary merit. This latter part of the work seems to be by 
far the most questionable. But the method, though slow, is honest 
and direct, and there are interesting passages: it is good to know 
that Van Nispen's Spaansche Diana (1653) is not a translation of 
Montemayor, but of Gil Polo's imitation. It is pleasant to read 
some extracts from the Quixote translation of Lambert van den Gos 
(one would like to know more about him), and the numerous 
quotations from the Dutch prefaces, dull and futile as they are, 

Theodore Roderiburch en Lope de Vega, De Gids, Sept.^ 1891. See also Kok, 
Van Dichters en Schryvers (1898-99) ; Worp, Drama en Tooneel in Neder- 
land (1904-08); and Prof. Kalff's Geschiedcnis der Nederlandsche letter- 
kunde, m, rv, and v. In this connection the studies on relations between 
Germany and Spain by Schwering and Schneider should also be mentioned. 
* Ernest Gossart, La Revolution des Pays-Bas dans le thedtre espagnol. 


were perhaps worth printing once, if only to show the mental 
attitude of most seventeenth-century translators. Mr. Davids 
modestly calls his book a report,, and thereby forestalls criticism 
which would undoubtedly be aimed at his work if it had raised any 
higher claims. The printing is carefully done,, but only in a publi- 
cation of this kind, which is half-way a catalogue, could such a 
bewildering variation of type be tolerated. Indeed, the publishers* 
taste must have keenly suffered from the abnormal typographical 
emphasis in which the author has indulged. 

With all that Mr. Davids' attempt is to be cordially welcomed, 
especially because of the broadening interest among Dutch philolo- 
gists which it seems to indicate. With university courses in Spanish, 
with better library facilities, more and better work will undoubtedly 
be done. To the deficiencies in Dutch libraries one may well ascribe 
the fact that Mr. Davids does not use or quote Professor Rennert's 
book on Spanish Pastoral Romances, and that he does not seem to 
have used the Bibliographic hispanique. With a complete set of the 
Revue hispanique at his disposal he would probably have found his 
attention drawn to Mr. Foulche-Delbosc's Bibliographic des voyages 
en Espagne, which mentions Dutch versions of Benjamin de 
Tudela's travels (Amsterdam, 1666), the voyage to Spain of Janus 
Secundus in 1533 (Leiden, 161 8,. etc.), the Dutch text of Zeiller's 
Jtinerarium (Amst., 1659), the notes on Spain of Frangois van 
Aerssen "van Sommelsdyk" (1630-1658), and the description of 
Spain by Willem van den Burge (s'Hage, 1705). Indeed, the 
subject of the relations between Holland and Spain opens the most 
interesting vistas: there are the printers of Spanish books, 
Bellerus, Steelsius, Velpius, Foppeus in Brussels, Martin Nucius 
(Nucio, Nuyts), Simon, Vervliet, Verdussen, and Plantin in Ant- 
werp, and others. There is the influence of the Portuguese and 
Spanish Jews who settled in Holland and often began by teaching 
Spanish for a living. It would be interesting to know more, for 
instance, about Abraham Ramires and Ishac Castello, at whose ex- 
pense was printed the Comedia famosa dos successos de Jahacob e 
Esav, composta por hum autor celebre, at Delft in the year 5459 
(i. e., 1699). 4 

4 The Biblioteca Nacional of Madrid possesses two copies of the first 
edition (it was repiiblished at Amsterdam in 1701) of this play, which 
even Kayserling knew only from a bookseller's catalogue. 


A further search for Spanish books in Dutch and Belgian 
libraries would perhaps not be quantitatively successful ; indeed, if 
one considers what an early bibliographer in Germany knew of 
Spanish books., this would seem very probable: George Draudius, 
in his Bibliotheca exotica ( Francof urti, 1610) devotes 165 pages to 
French, forty-two to Italian, but only four to Spanish books. But 
in return there is no telling what rarities might not lurk in some 
of the only partly catalogued libraries of the Low Countries. At 
any rate, there is interesting work waiting for the Dutch Hispanists 
of the future and may they be many and come soon. 


University of Minnesota. 

Dickens, Reade, and Collins. Sensation Novelists. A Study in 
the Conditions and Theories of Novel Writing in Victorian 
England. By WALTER C. PHILLIPS, Ph. D. New York : 
Columbia University Press, 1919. 

The Graduate School of English at Columbia University has 
been peculiarly happy in the choice of thesis-subjects ; year by year 
meritorious treatises on some aspect or other of literary history are 
added to the list of " Studies in English and Comparative Litera- 
ture/' In many cases new points of approach have been attempted, 
new trails blazed in various directions. The primary object of Dr. 
Phillips' work is "to present the problems and opportunities of 
fiction-writing as the Victorians saw them sixty years ago." Under 
what conditions of trade, of the relation of publishers to authors, 
of the " market," and so forth did writers go about their business ? 
The answer is a study in the economic interpretation of literature ; 
to a surprising degree, and, it may be, to some minds a disillusion- 
izing degree, the form and content of the Victorian novel were regu- 
lated by the traditions and conditions of the trade. As these 
controlling elements fluctuated and altered the novel-form altered 
and fluctuated with them. The facts of the matter are best studied 
and illustrated in the " output " of Dickens and his two chief 
disciples. The emphasis upon the commercial aspect accounts in 
part for the not altogether satisfactory arrangement of Mr. Phillips' 



The Byronic heldentypus, traced long ago to its beginnings in 
Mrs. Radcliffe's novels, changed gradually and degenerated in the 
eighteen-twenties and thirties into the hero of the " Newgate 
Novel/' a genre much exploited by Bulwer, Ainsworth and others 
(including Dickens) that received its death-blow from Thackeray. 
New commercial conditions and a new and much wider "reading 
public " caused the adaptation of the old novel of terror to the new 
demand while the novelist continued to draw upon records of crime 
and villainy for materials. Between 1825 and 1850 the book-trade 
was revolutionized; popular education combined with the removal 
of the tax on paper to open up great avenues to the enterprising 
publisher. The results were such ventures as Constable's Miscel- 
lany, The Penny Magazine, and the publications of " The Society 
for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge." Meanwhile the "three- 
decker " novel., at the outrageous price of a guinea and a half, con- 
tinued (and continued sporadically down to the eighteen-nineties) 
as an anomaly amid the new circumstances of the book business. 
The connection of scholars of great repute with such undertakings 
as The Penny Magazine aided greatly in establishing the prestige 
of periodical publication. The immediate predecessor of the 
pamphlet-novel was, however, Egan's Life in London (1821), 
which prepared the way for Pickwick, which in turn established 
the enstalment plan as a medium for novel-publication. The 
pamphlet-form did not at once drive the expensive three-volume 
form from the field, but served the temporary intermediate need of 
providing cheap literature for the masses before the custom grew 
up of following the first " three decker " edition, after a few months 
when the sales began to lag, by inexpensive one-volume reprints. 
A great many other considerations enter into the problem; the 
influence of Mudie's library was, for instance, most important. On 
these matters and on such other questions as the financial profits 
that accrued to novelists (and these grew enormously during the 
Victorian epoch) Dr. Phillips is able to cast much light. 

Scattered through the book with singular disregard for logical 
arrangement, but most closely connected together in his seventh, 
eighth, and tenth sections, are considerations of the problems that 
suggest the title of Dr. Phillips' book: the personal and literary 
relationship of Dickens, Reade, and Collins ; their " Creed in Fic- 
tion " (formulated in part from observation of their actual prac- 
tice which closely conformed to their critical dicta, and in part 


from fragments of theories expressed in letters, prefaces, postscripts 
and what not) ; and the common characteristics of the Dickensians 
as Sensationalists. These characteristics are those of what the 
Dickensians themselves liked to call the " dramatic novel " : an 
inordinate use of surprise, coincidence, and fortuitous retribution, 
and the repudiation of the dissection of character and analysis of 
motives as part of the novelist's function. In these qualities all 
three men, and especially Reade, are in marked opposition to the 
type of novel represented in Victorian England by George Eliot and 
Anthony Trollope the type that has had so much influence upon 
the fiction of our own day while the sensational novel is an alto- 
gether outworn influence. The stages of the decline of this sort of 
fiction (its influence is obvious not only to the critic but to the 
author himself in the earliest of Mr. Hardy's books) is an inter- 
esting subject upon which Dr. Phillips does not enter. To have 
pursued it further than he does would have led him altogether 
beyond the domain of literature proper into the ee sad, obscure, se- 
questered place " where dwell the dime novels and penny dreadfuls. 
This is but a brief indication of the abundant interest in this 
study. Dr. Phillips exhibits remarkable " control " of his material 
and has been able to fortify his conclusions by generous and apt 
quotations from a multitude of novels. The lack of any index 
and of exact references to many of his citations, and the frequent 
carelessnesses in the printing are regrettable. 


Bryn Mawr College. 



When Professor Spencer Baynes, writing for the Edinburgh Re- 
view in 1871, applauded Shelley's invention of the word marmoreal 
in The Revolt of Islam (1818), I, 302-304, where Shelley describes 
how " the Woman " 

unveiled her bosom, and the green 
And glancing shadows of the sea did play 
O'er its marmoreal depth 

he lacked the evidence, furnished by the NED., that the word had 
been used previously by Landor, in Ge'bir (1798) iv, 43-44, describ- 
ing how 


Love's column rose 

Those who recall Hogg's description of Shelley's rapturous absorp- 
tion in Gebir when at Oxford, will have little difficulty in deciding 
that Shelley probably derived the word from that source. It is not 
my purpose to dispute the fact that Shelley probably first encoun- 
tered the poetic adjective in Gebir; but to suggest that its use by 
another author, Peacock, in his Rhododaphne (1818) i, 156-159, 
raises a minor Shelley problem. Peacock writes: 

Long ringlets 

fell in many a graceful fold, 

Streaming in curls of feathery lightness 

Around her neck's marmoreal whiteness. 

During the winter months of 1817-18 which immediately pre- 
ceded the appearance of both poems, The Revolt of Islam and Rho- 
dodaphne, in March, Shelley and Peacock were in close touch with 
each other. From an undated letter to Hogg, assigned by Mr. 
Ingpen to " Winter, 1817-18," we know that Shelley saw at least a 
part of Rhododaphne in MS., and the painstaking research of Mr. 
Forman unearthed for us, sixty years later, Shelley's enthusiastic 
review of the poem, an essay revealing in what high esteem " the 
Hermit of Marlow" held the achievement of his friend. Query: 
was it his second meeting with marmoreal in Peacock's MS. which 
prompted Shelley's use of the word in The Revolt of Islam? 

My answer to this is, that though it is possible, it is improbable. 
Laon and Cythna, the earlier version of The Revolt of Islam, writ- 
ten during the Summer of 1817, was actually printed in the latter 
part of that year, but temporarily suppressed to permit Shelley 
to make certain changes in its text which Oilier insisted upon; 
and but for this delay in publication, would have anticipated the 
publication of Rhododaphne by three months, at least. It seems 
far more likely that Peacock had the word marmoreal from Shelley, 
who had finished the composition of Laon and Cythna three months 
before the author of Rhododaphne had finished his verse narrative. 

On the other hand, a number of passages in other poems of Shel- 
ley are reminiscent of this or earlier works by Peacock. Take, for 
example, the famous bit of self -portraiture in the Adonais, 271- 

Midst others of less note, came one frail form, 
A phantom among men; companionless 
As the last cloud of an expiring storm 
Whose thunder is its knell 

an obscure forerunner of which description is to be found in Rho- 
dodaphne, Canto VI in the picture of young Anthemion's fate: 

Yet, from this hour, forlorn, bereft, 

Companionless, where'er he turns, 

Of all that love on earth is left 

No trace Ibut their cinereal urns. 

Or for another parallel, one might select the lines from Fiordispina 


(1820) conjectured to refer to the love Shelley vainly bore, in his 
youth, for his cousin Harriet Grove : 

they grew together like two flowers 

Upon one stem, which the same beams and showers 

Lull or awaken in their purple prime, 

Which the same hand will gather the same clime 

Shake with decay. 

These would hardly have read just as they do but for Peacock's 
Rhododaphne, Canto VI: 

We grew together, like twin flowers, 

Whose opening buds the same dews cherish; 

And one is reft, ere noon-tide hours, 

Violently; one remains, to perish 

By slow decay. 

The pursuit lures one ; but I forbear. The study of " influ- 
ences " may easily become a snare and a delusion, becoming 
far-fetched or erroneous because it fails to take into account an 
unkenned common source in older writers, or in the electric air of 
the age itself in which these writers worked. But when reading 

Fear not the tyrants shall rule for ever, 
Or the priests of the bloo3y faith; 
They stand on the brink of that mighty river, 
. Whose waves they have tainted with death ; 
It is fed from the depths of a thousand dells, 
Around them it foams, and rages, and swells, 
And their swords and their sceptres I floating see, 
Like wrecks in the surge of eternity. 

Rosalind and Helen (1819), 894-901. 

there will spring up the remembrance of Peacock's 
Hark! the stream of ages raves: 
Gifted eyes its course ibehold; 
Down its all-absorbing waves 
Mightiest chiefs and kings are rolled. 
Every work of human pride, 
Sapped by that eternal tide, 
Shall the raging current sweep 
Tow'rds oblivion's boundless deep. 

Genius of the Thames (ed. 1810, pg. 53). 

and such instances of the interaction of ideas between the two 
friends are neither to be viewed as plagiarism, imitation, or any 
sort of conscious appropriation. It was the natural result of a 
friendship begun before Shelley had published Queen Mob and 
ending only with his death a friendship of immeasurable profit 
to the genius of both in that their tastes in literature were broad- 
ened, deepened, and enriched by a mutual readiness to receive 
criticism and suggestion; and without which it is as impossible to 
understand the evolution of Peacock from The Genius of the 
Thames to Rhododaphne as that of Shelley from the Posthumous 
Fragments of Margaret Nicholson to Alastor. 

Exeter College, Oxford. WALTER EDWIN PECK. 



Prince Hamlet is represented by Shakespeare as a student at 
Wittenberg. Was this .simply because Wittenberg enjoyed the 
highest reputation among contemporary Englishmen? Giordano 
Bruno, the friend of Sidney, after residence in London and in 
Oxford, went thither. Marlowe's Faustus was presumably, as in 
the German original, a Wittenberg professor. Thomas Nash in- 
vented at Wittenberg " a solempne disputation where Luther and 
Carolstadius scolded levell coile." x Fynes Moryson described his 
visit there ; how he saw the house of Dr. Faustus and " the asper- 
sion of ink cast by the divell at Luther when he tempted him, on 
the wall of St. Augustine's college." 2 He and many contempo- 
raries matriculated at Wittenberg. 3 

Shakespeare then may have chosen Wittenberg simply on account 
of its fame. It is interesting to note, however, that Hamlet's 
Wittenberg friends, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, may actually 
have been drawn from the life, as there were men of this name at 
the university. A Holger Rosencrantz who studied at Wittenberg 
in the years 1592-95 was later attached to the Danish embassy in 
London. 4 A Frederick Rosencrantz, son of another Holger Rosen- 
crantz and of Karen Gyldenstjerne, matriculated in December, 
1586. 5 There was also a " Gabriel Giildenstern Danus natus in 
equestri familia" who registered on 15 May, 1573. 6 Is it not 
likely that the poet met, or heard of, one or more of these gentle- 
men at court? 


Cambridge, Mass. 


I have in my possession a copy of the first edition of Gorchestion 
Beirdd Cymru, a collection of Welsh poems mostly of the four- 
teenth and fifteenth centuries, published at Shrewsbury in 1773. 
Among the names of the subscribers to this volume we find that 

1 Thomas Nash's Works, ed. R. B. McKerrow, 1904, ii, 246, 250. 

2 The Itinerary of Fynes Moryson, 4 vols., 1907, i, 14 ff. ; ii, 348. 

3 Album Academic Vitebergensis, 3 vols., ed. C. E. Foerstemann, 1841, 
passim. A study of " Englishmen at Wittenlberg in the Sixteenth Cen- 
tury " will shortly appear in The English Historical Review. 

4 Thornlbury in Notes and Queries, 5 Aug., 1871; Variorum Shakespeare, 
Act II, Scene ii, line 2. 'C. F. Bricka: Dansk Biografisk Lexicon, s. v. 
" Holger Rosenkrantz." Neither Thornbury nor the Variorum mention 
the study at Wittenlberg, whereas Bricka, speaking of the man's extensive 
travels, does not note the residence in England. 

5 Album, ii, 344; Brieka, s. v. " Frederik Rosenkrantz." 

6 Album, ii, 236. 


of " Doctor Samuel Johnson." At first it seems a little surprising 
to find Johnson buying a book which assuredly he could not read, 
for these poems offer considerable difficulty even to a person well 
versed in Modern. Welsh, and Johnson knew hardly a word of the 
language, as we know from his vain attempt to read the very simple 
inscription on the tombstone in Ruabon churchyard. 1 But although 
he did not know Welsh he was much interested in it, not merejy 
for the sake of the literature written in it, as were Gray and Percy, 
but also as a language. In 1774 he writes in the journal of his 
journey into North Wales, 2 " After dinner the talk was of preserv- 
ing the Welsh language. I offered them a scheme. Poor Evan 
Evans was mentioned as incorrigibly addicted to strong drink. 
Worthington was commended. Myddleton is the only man who in 
Wales talked to me of literature. I wish he were truly zealous. I 
recommended the republication of David ap Rheese's Welsh Gram- 
mar." 3 Along with this interest in Welsh Johnson had a corre- 
sponding interest in the nearly related field of Irish : " I have long 
wished that the Irish literature were cultivated," he wrote to 
Charles O'Connor in 1757. 4 

But even granting that Johnson's interest in the preservation 
of the Welsh language was sufficient to induce him to help the 
cause by buying a book which he could not read, we have yet to 
discover through whom he learned of the intended publication of 
the Gorchestion, which had few subscribers outside the Principality, 
and these few practically all of Welsh descent. One naturally 
thinks first of Bishop Percy, who was so much interested in Welsh 
and who kept up a regular correspondence on the subject with 
Evan Evans ("leuan Brydydd Hir"), the author of Some Speci- 
mens of the Poetry of the Ancient Welsh Bards. 5 But Percy was 
not a subscriber to the Gorchestion although Evans was, and the 
person who induced Johnson to subscribe would undoubtedly have 
taken a copy for himself. It seems most probable that the person 
through whom Johnson learned of this book was Daines Barring- 
ton, Chief Justice of North Wales. He was a man whom Johnson 
respected and admired, and with whom he seems to have been upon 
fairly intimate terms throughout the latter part of his life. 6 Bar- 
rington was interested in Welsh literature and seems to have gone 

1 Anecdotes of the late Samuel Johnson, by Hesther Lynch Piozzi. (2nd 
edit.) p. 239. 

2 Boswell's Life of Johnson, edited by George Birbeck Hill, v, 443. 

3 Oambro-Britannicae Cymraecaeve Linguae Institutiones et Rudimenta, 
published in 1592 by Dr. John Dafydd Rhys. It is written in Latin and 
contains not only a grammar of the Welsh Language but also the rules 
of prosody and copious illustrations from the old bards. 

4 Boswell, ed. Hill, I, 321. 

8 Percy had offered Evans tihe assistance of Johnson in the publication 
of this work. Evans, Specimens (2nd Edit.), p. 161. 
Boswell, ed. Hill, m, 314. 


to considerable trouble to help men like Evans who were trying 
to make this literature more accessible. 7 He was one of the su 
scribers to the Gorchestion, and it is more than likely that, know- 
ing Johnson's interest in Welsh, he should attempt to secure his 
help toward the publication of a book which contained so much 
of the best of the early Welsh literature. 


University of Illinois. 


The famous passage in Paradise Lost (vii, 224-231), in which 
Milton represents Deity as circumscribing the limits of the 
universe by means of the golden compasses " prepared in God's 
eternal store," has given much trouble to commentators anxious to 
defend Milton against the charge of being too material. Addison, 
for example, declared that the golden compasses " appear a very 
natural instrument in the hand of him whom Plato somewhere calls 
the Divine Geometrician." 

Such desperate attempts to defend Milton against a charge that 
cannot be disproved seem the more absurd when we find that the 
passage (Prov. viii,, 27) upon which Milton relied for his authority, 
does not mention the compasses. The Hebrew words literally mean 
' He set a circle on the face of the deep/ Here the word " circle " 
(Heb. Tchuq) refers to the base of the solid vault of the heavens. 
This vault was thought of as a solid dome (Job xxn, 14) resting 
on the sea, its base forming the circle of the horizon on its surface. 

Though compasses were used by the Hebrews, being mentioned 
in connection with the making of idols (7s. XLIV, 13), Milton 
could have found no Biblical precedent for the supernatural dividers 
from the celestial tool-chest. We are forced to conclude, therefore, 
that, notwithstanding his knowledge of Hebrew, Milton was misled 
by the wording of the Authorised Version, which renders, " He set 
a compass upon the face of the deep." 

Equally demonstrable is the influence of the Authorised Version 
upon both the thought and diction of Milton's sonnet " On the late 
Massacre in Piemont." Here the " Babylonian woe " of the last 
line has usually been explained as the pope, here identified as the 
Antichrist of the Apocalypse. So Waburton interprets it, and 
Warton confirms his judgment, reminding us that Milton elsewhere 
(In Quint. Nov. 156) calls the pope antistes Babylonius, the Baby- 
lonian priest. Masson points out that the Puritans identified the 
papacy with the mystical Babylon of the Apocalypse, and refers us 
to Rev. xvii and xvirr. 

7 Gwaith leuan Brydydd Hir. Ab Owen, Llanuwchllvn. 1912. pp. 14. 23. 


While unquestionably Milton did believe the apocalyptic Babylon 
stood for the papacy,, the scriptural source of the phrase " Baby- 
lonian woe " was probably not Rev. xvn and xvni, but Jer. LI. The 
latter was the source of the passage in Revelations, and was simi- 
larly interpreted by the Puritan divines. Here the prophet uses 
Babylon as a type of worldly power, self-deifying, and the enemy 
of God. In verses 25-26 he employs the symbol of the volcano. 
Babylon, the " destroying mountain " is to become an extinct, or 
burnt out, volcano, whose vitrified stones are not even fit for build- 
ing material. To this mountain God is represented as saying, " I 
will roll thee down from the rocks." The phrasing of the threat, so 
nearly identical with that of the seventh and eighth lines of the 
sonnet, suggests that in Milton's mind the retribution to be visited 
upon the papacy, namely the " Babylonian woe/' was to duplicate 
the cruel policy of extermination hitherto countenanced by the 
Roman church. Milton meant to suggest the threat which Jeremiah 
expressly utters (Jer. LI, 24), "I will render unto Babylon . . . 
all their evil that they have done in Zion in your sight, saith the 

The passage in Jeremiah not only throws light on what Milton 
meant by the " Babylonian woe," but accounts for the peculiar and 
otherwise unaccountable, use of the word " roll'd " in line seven 

Piemontese that roll'd 

Mother with infant down the rooks. 

The influence of the Authorised Version seems, therefore, to be 
apparent, not only upon the thought, but upon the diction as well. 


University of Illinois. 

A NOTE ON THE Comedy of Errors 

Critics and editors of the Comedy of Errors uniformly assert that 
Shakespeare got no hint of the pathos of ^Egeon's situation from 
the Menaechmi of Plautus, which is Shakespeare's main source. 
May it not be, however, that Shakespeare who is extremely sensitive 
to suggestion did get a cue from lines 34 to 36 of the prose prologue 
to Plautus' play? 

The lines cited read as follows in the text of Professor Nixon 
{Loeb Classical Library, Plautus, IT, p. 368) : 

Pater eius autem postquam puerum perdidit, 
Animum despondit, eaque is aegritudine 
Paucis diebus post Tarenti emortuost. 

Professor Nixon translates these thus : " As for the father, after 


he lost his son, he was broken-hearted, and died of grief at Taren- 
tum a few days later." 

Shakespeare, apparently believing early in his career, that the 
more complicated a comedy the better it would be, " improved " on 
Plautus by adding the twin Dromios and keeping JEgeon, the 
father, alive for a happy reunion at the end of the play. But the 
^Egeon of Act i, Scene 1, is the broken-hearted father of the Latin 
prologue. Has not this been overlooked by editors ? 


University of Washington. 


On the Art of Reading. By Sir Arthur Quiller- Couch, King 
Edward VII Professor of English Literature in the University of 
Cambridge (New York and London, G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1920). 
In his inaugural lectures, published under the title On the Art of 
Writing (1916; see MLN. xxxn, 591), and now in this com- 
panion volume On the Art of Reading, Sir Arthur Quiller -Couch 
has frankly and enthusiastically expounded fundamental articles 
of his professorial Credo. Sir Arthur has been insistently pro- 
claiming his purpose to effect a desired change, a reformation, in 
University methods of training in English. He has won official 
approbation for a new tripos, which is now on trial. That in the 
first stages of this new endeavor the plain-clothes subjects of read- 
ing and writing have been exalted to high University privileges 
must surely beget the reflection that these subjects have a depth 
of significance too generally undervalued. From this reflection 
should also spring an eagerness, not restricted to the mind of the 
educator, to be competently instructed as to the complete intellec- 
tual and aesthetic reach and implications of these subjects. 

It cannot be assumed that the designation ' Art ' will suggest to 
any large class of minds the full import, intellectual and assthetic, 
of the common experience either of reading or of writing. Ob- 
structing the desired effect are those connotations of ' Art ' which 
are charged with diminished seriousness and with even a trifling 
estimate of personal responsibility. Hard to combat is that com- 
mon-place tendency to relegate art to the domain of what is adven- 
titious and ornamental rather than fundamentally essential in the 
training and sustaining of mind and character. If for art the 
word culture be used to symbolize the reward of right reading and 
writing, there will still remain in the mind of the ' practical ' man 
the difficulty of accepting indirect paths to a straightforwardly 


conceived end. In spite of these hindrances of an easy access to 
minds of limited or untrained inclination to respond to the 
wider and finer interpretation of what is essential to life, the 
words art and culture in connection with the activities and experi- 
ences under consideration reading and writing- are the supreme- 
ly just words, not to be displaced by any others. What remains to 
be done, therefore, is to persist steadfastly in defining these words, 
so that what is meant by them may more and more become a vitally 
fruitful possession of the average mind. 

The titles of Sir Arthur's two series of lectures are not novel. 
It is a well-established practice to employ the designation 'art' 
on the title-pages of treatises on Reading, Writing, and Discourse ; 
Literature is, of course, defined as an art, it may be noticed that 
T. Bailey Saunders, with a just sense of this usage, entitled a 
volume of selected passages from Schopenhauer The Art of Litera- 
ture (1897) ; and Grammar is perhaps still timidly defined as 
the science of the art of language, or of correct speech. All 
these uses of the term art are absolutely correct; but what is 
to be noticed is tho bountiful lack of adequate discussion of how 
the subjects named are but divisions of one comprehensive art, 
the art of articulate expression. The interrelations of these divi- 
sions of an organic unity, a philosophic whole, are commonly dis- 
regarded or at best but incidentally or superficially recognized in 
both practical and critical treatises and consequently in pedagogic 

One's native language is not inherited. It is acquired just as 
an art is acquired, and the practice of it thru life is the practice 
of an art. The gradations of this art of expression extend from 
the simplest colloquial use to the summit of literary workmanship. 
This is the fundamental truth that should determine the methods 
in the teaching of the vernacular language and literature. Obvi- 
ously, in the teaching of foreign languages no method can be 
sound that ignores the same fundamental truth, for it is the gate- 
way to true appreciation. It is implied that the schools and col- 
leges do not satisfactorily, if at all, inculcate this fundamental fact 
that dealing with any aspect or department of expression is dealing 
with one and the same comprehensive art. Inspired by this true 
conception df the art of language the teacher would have the most 
effective access to the mind and character of the pupil. Individu- 
ality in refinement and correctness of taste, in intellectual integrity 
and efficiency, and in all the elements of a complete character, 
these subjects would cohere in lessons of personal responsibility in 
the use of one's language. The pupil would now easily be led to 
perceive the innate relation between the provinces of the art. What 
would now be apprehended to pertain to the definition of literature 


the fine art of the vernacular would prepare him for a vital 
understanding of all the creative and conventional aspects of the 
art that is too much obscured by the methods of the schools. 

The praise of books, the choice of books, the benefits of reading 
as one should, and the consequences of reading as one should not, 
these are topics that for generations have elicited reflections of 
many superior minds. Has this best thought so influenced the 
methods of the schools as to render unnecessary a repetition of the 
whole argument? No, says Sir Arthur, with the conviction that 
has impelled him in the selection of the subject for his lectures. 
He has accordingly enlivened selected chapters of the argument 
with the earnestness of his personality. An ' Introductory 5 lecture 
is devoted to general observations on knowledge and culture and 
on the difficult educational problem of doing what should be done in 
the schools for the subject of reading. Levelled at the very heart 
of the matter is the declaration, " Anything that requires so much 
ingenuity as reading English in an English University must be an 
art." Teachers of English in the schools and colleges of America 
can match that note with one of genuine discomfiture. They are 
consciously dealing with a problem that has not yet been satisfac- 
torily solved. 

The next lecture, on ' Apprehension vs. Comprehension,' is not 
a compactly reasoned philosophic essay, but its meaning emerges 
clear at the end: " For all great Literature ... is gentle towards 
that spirit which learns it. It teaches by apprehension not by com- 
prehension. . . . Literature understands man and of what he is 
capable." That two lectures, which follow, should here be devoted 
to 'Children's Heading' is assumed to be a surprise (p. 75). A 
determination to discredit this surprise seems to have occasioned 
the unexpected turns, the clever indirections, and the prevailing 
avoidance of a coherent and simple argument of these lectures; 
but yet fresh emphasis is gained for the cultural value of the 
child's imitative faculties, and its intuitive apprehension of the 
universal (p. 68), and for a protest against the short-comings of 
the schools in dealing with " poor children " who leave school at 
an early age (p. 75). Concrete and direct enough, however, is a 
suggested lesson in the practical teaching of poetry. This "pre- 
supposes of the teacher himself some capacity of reading aloud, 
and reading aloud," it is confessed, " is not taught in our schools." 
The context runs : " In our Elementary Schools, in which few of 
the pupils contemplate being called to Holy Orders or to the Bar, 
it is practised, indeed, but seldom as an art. In our Secondary 
and Public Schools it is neither taught nor practised : as I know 
to my cost" (p. 72). This confession admits of a verifiable 
extension that will exclude few if any mature readers and speak- 


ers; and it thus proves in the most impressive manner that the 
schools do not succeed in teaching language as an art. One wishes 
that Sir Arthur had taken his personal confession as the leading 
thought in a course of lectures. He would then have been led to 
show that sound pedagogical methods must be based in the truth 
that the acquisition and the practical use of one's native tongue 
is the acquisition and the practice of an art. From a cultivated 
taste and personal art-responsibility in colloquial speech, he would 
have proceeded by natural steps to the cultivation of taste and of 
the creative faculties in writing and in reading, and thence to the 
sound apprehension of the fine art of literature. 

The remaining lectures occupy the larger portion of the book 
(pp. 77 to 244). The titles are ' On Reading for Examinations'; 
' On a School of English ' ; ' The Value of Greek and Latin in 
English Literature'; ' On Reading the Bible' (three exceptionally 
good lectures on the Bible as literature) ; ' Of Selection ' ; ' On the 
Use of Masterpieces.' These are all to be commended for earnest 
and inspiring instruction imparted in an engaging and unhack- 
neyed manner. 

j. w. B. 

Danish Ballads. Translated by E. M. Smith-Dampier (Cam- 
bridge University Press, 1920). Students of balladry in this 
country, where, even in the institutions of higher learning, so little 
attention is given to the Scandinavian languages that probably not 
one college graduate in a thousand can read Danish, will be ready 
to give an eager welcome to Mr. Smith-Dampier's Danish Ballads. 
No other European tongue except our own has so fine a body of 
traditional narrative popular song as the Danish, nor are the bal- 
lads of any other country so close to ours in theme, temper, and 
style. The likeness is such that the editors of the Corpus Poeti- 
cum Boreale do not hesitate to trace the origin of Danish balladry 
to that of Britain, both ultimately, of course, to France. Yet 
this great body of kindred popular poetry is closed to most Ameri- 
cans by our ignorance of Danish ; nor has there been any adequate 
attempt made to open the door by translation. The translations 
in Jamieson's Popular Ballads (1806) are not easily accessible; 
R. Buchanan's Ballad Stories of the Affections from the Scandi- 
navian (1869) are ill chosen and as the title indicates are not 
rendered in the ballad spirit. There was, then, a genuine service 
to be performed for English readers by the competent rendering 
of representative Danish ballads into English in the spirit of the 

Mr. Smith-Dampier gives us twenty-nine ballads, in four groups : 
nine dealing with traditional themes from Danish history in the 


twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries; four upon legendary 
heroes (Theodoric, Ogier the Dane, Hagbard and Signe) ; seven 
' ballads of magic ; ' and nine ' miscellaneous ballads.' In a selec- 
tion intended, as this is, for the general reader, he was probably 
well advised in taking as his source not the record of actual tradi- 
tion as preserved in Grundtvig but the selective versions devised 
by Olrik in his Danske Folkeviser i Udvalg. These are rarely 
identical thruout with any one of the versions in Danmarks gamle 
Folkeviser, Olrik holding (with Quiller-Couch in his Oxford Book 
of Ballads) that from the very nature of ballad tradition there is no 
special sanctity attaching to any given text. One who knows bal- 
lads as profoundly and as sympathetically as Olrik did may reason- 
ably be trusted to make a version that shall be truer to the spirit 
of the ballad than any that the chances of tradition have left to us. 
All but two of Smith-Dampier's translations are based upon the 
versions in Olrik's two ' Selections/ The renderings are spirited, 
ballad-like, careful in preserving the refrain. 

The introductory matter is in the main also selected from the 
introduction to the Udvalg. One cannot help wishing that the 
translator had confined himself altogether to that admirably lucid 
and illuminating exposition of the Danish ballad, and had given 
it in full. He would then have avoided the confusion that waits 
like Nemesis upon facile speculators upon ballad origins. He 
would not have found himself saying on one page, with Pineau, 
that " at the period when these songs were born, classes were 
mingled together, or rather did not as yet exist," and on another, 
with Olrik, that " the two classes, however, are distinct, and keep 
their distance. The knight may farm his own land may even be 
found holding the plough but he is, none the less, the yeoman's 
social superior. His daughter, if she weds a yeoman, must ' doff 
the scarlet fine, and don the wadmal grey/ ' : The two statements 
are flatly contradictory and Olrik, of course, is right. 

H. M. B. 

Grundlagen der neuhochdeutschen Satzlehre. Ein Schulbuch 
fiir Lehrer von B. Delbriick (Berlin und Leipzig 1920, Vereinig- 
ung wissenschaftlicher Verleger Walter de Gruyter & Co., pp. viii, 
90). As the reviewer took this little book into his hand he was 
attracted by both the name of the author and the title. The name 
means a good deal to those interested in syntactical studies. To 
many of us Delbriick has been for a generation an inspiration and 
a helpful guide. He has heretofore appealed to scholars, now at 
the close of a long period of scientific activity he turns to teachers 
of his native language. This is all the more noticeable because it 
is only one of a series of such efforts to put the results of modern 
scholarship in the reach of teachers of German. Siitterlin's 


Deutsche Sprache der Gegenwart began this work some time ago 
and then followed an uninterrupted succession of books of all kinds 
to help the teacher. Not only philologists but also psychologists 
have helped in this good work. Dittrich's Die Probleme der 
Sprachpsi/chologie is a fine contribution from the psychological side. 
Dr. W. Fischer's little book Die deutsche Sprache von Heute, must 
have lightened the load of many a teacher. Dr. Ernst Wasser- 
zieher's Woher?, a little etymological dictionary of 164 pages, has 
gone thru a number of editions within a few years. Professor 
Kluge has just finished his History of the German Language, and 
a new edition of the Etymologisches Worterbuch, Behaghel is 
progressing with his German Syntax, and Siitterlin is about to 
publish a new German Grammar on historical principles in coopera- 
tion with Siebs, who will treat of German, pronunciation. Paul 
has published his German Grammar in five handy volumes, a work 
of unusually high scientific merit and especially valuable because 
of the simplicity and clearness of language and presentation, which 
will make it accessible to every willing student. Mention has been 
made here of only a few of the best books of this veritable flood of 
grammatical literature. A good many of the authors of these 
books are guided by enthusiasm for a good cause rather than by 
sound scholarship. Not only truth but error has been spread and 
will do much harm. And yet the reviewer envies the Germans 
this enthusiasm for their language. It would be gratifying to see 
in our midst new societies arise for the study of English and an 
extensive literature presenting various phases of language study 
that might help our teachers. Especially would it be gratifying 
if some of our large comprehensive minds would put their learning 
at the service of our teachers. Mr. Onion's valuable little work 
on English Syntax has gone thru three editions and has shown 
that there is really a need for such books. We can console our- 
selves with the fact that the great Oxford Dictionary is approaching 
completion and that we shall have the best dictionary of any people, 
but we all must fear that the high price will prevent its reaching 
the study-rooms of our teachers. The reviewer envies the Germans 
these little books that can find a way to the teachers in the most 
out-of-the-way places and put them in touch with the scientific 
centers of learning. 

G. o. c. 

The First Quarto Edition of Shakespeare's Hamlet. Edited 
with an Introduction and Notes, by Frank G. Hubbard (Univer- 
sity of Wisconsin Studies, 1920). The relation of the texts of 
Hamlet is almost as puzzling as the character of the Prince, especi- 
ally the bearing of the First Quarto to the Ur-HamJet on the one 
hand and the Second Quarto and the First Folio on the other. It 


has been generally agreed that Ql is not a garbled version of Q2 or 
Fl, but that it may be a piracy printed from reporters' notes of 
the play as acted with such additions and corrections as might be 
obtained from unscrupulous actors. This latter position Professor 
Frank G. Hubbard contests in his edition of the Quarto. He holds 
that the play as we have it was from " copy " procured in a legiti- 
mate way from the players, and his evidence is both external and 
internal. The printer and the publishers were men of good repute, 
and one of the publishers brought out the Second Quarto; there 
is nothing suspicious on the title-page or in the entry in the Sta- 
tioner's Register; the systems of shorthand in vogue at that time 
were inadequate to report a play as accurately as the text of this 
quarto. Furthermore, the mistakes in printing are those of the 
eye and not solely of the ear. The general character of the play, 
moreover, bears out the belief in its authenticity ; the action is com- 
plete and is sufficiently motivated, and it is consistent even in 
minor details. 

Textual evidences of piracy would seem to be supported by such 
passages as the " To be " soliloquy and these lines from the Ghost's 
speech (I, v, 81 f.) : 

But, howsoever tftiou pursuest this act, 
Taint .not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive 
Against thy mother aught; 

which appear in the First Quarto as 

But, howsoever, let not thy heart conspire 
Against thy mother aught. 

The text of the soliloquy is undoubtedly very corrupt, but the ex- 
planation is not that this condition is due solely to inaccurate 
reporting. In fact, if the original bore any close resemblance to 
the final version, it is hard to see how a reporter could make such 
glaring and inexcusable errors as he must have done. He must 
surely get the short and easily caught expressions, " that is the 
question," " To die, to sleep, no more," " Ay, there's the rub " ; 
and he would follow the thought in the order of its utterance and 
not shift backward and forward. The lines from the Ghost's 
speech look more to hurried reporting, but they are just as readily 
explained as due to a desire to abbreviate the text by the omission 
of a line. 

The puzzling question of the relation of this text to Kyd's Ur- 
Hamlet and to the German version in Der Bestrafte Brudermord 
is not touched upon by Professor Hubbard. This involves an 
effort to determine the genuinely Shakespearean portions of the 
play, the amount conveyed from Kyd, the part, if any, contributed 
by other authors. The state of the text is not to be explained as 
due merely to corruption and it would have been well to consider 
whatever bears upon the interpretation of this quarto. 

j. w. T. 




The present article proposes to study in detail the theories ex- 
pressed in the Nouvelle Heloise regarding what is commonly called 
the "natural goodness of man." It is evident that no subject can 
have greater importance for an accurate understanding of Rous- 
seau's novel. Mr. Schinz has already pointed out that Rousseau's 
views on the question of natural goodness did not remain fixed 
and free from variation in works anterior to the Nouvelle Helo'ise; 
namely, the First and Second Discourses. 1 It is therefore danger- 
ous to speak of the theories of Jean-Jacques en bloc. Each work 
is deserving of separate and detailed study from the point of view 
of this theory and generalizations must be made with great caution. 

Can we safely follow Mr. Schinz in grouping together the Nou- 
velle Helo'ise and Emile in the statement that both picture man as 
" bon au fond " ? 2 Shall we, with Beaudoin, speak of all Rous- 
seau's work in one breath and say : " Dans son systeme, suivre sa 
nature est toute la morale " ? 3 Ought we to agree fully with M. 
Cuendet that Rousseau's conception of nature "est dans tous les 
cas aux antipodes de la conception augustinienne de la corruption 
radicale de 1'homme separe de Dieu et prive de la grace " ? 4 Was 
Masson right in accusing Rousseau of forgetting "la faiblesse 

1 Albert Schinz, " La notion de vertu dans le Premier Discours de J. J. 
Rousseau," Mercure de France, ler juin 1912. "La the"orie de la bonte" 
naturelle de 1'homme chez Rousseau," Revue du XVIIIe si&cle, 1913. 

'Rev. du XVIIIe siecle (1913), p. 445. 

'H. Beaudoin, La vie et les ceuvres de J. J. Rousseau (1891), n, p. 513. 

4 W. Cuendet, La philosophic religieuse de J. J. Rousseau (1913), p. 162. 



humaine " and is his a Christianity " d'ou le sentiment du peche a 
disparu " ? 5 To what extent did Rousseau in the Nouvelle Heloise 
deny the reality of " the civil war in the cave/' 6 the struggle 
between good and evil in the breast of the individual ? How far 
did Jean-Jacques believe in the doctrine of " innate goodness " 7 
so often associated with his name ? 

An answer to these questions, so far as the Nouvelle Helo'ise is 
concerned, can safely be given only after a study of all the passages 
which mention or imply the existence or the non-existence of " la 
bonte naturelle." Among these, as will appear, there are contra- 
dictions to be taken into account, contradictions doubtless in part 
explained by the necessity, in a philosophical novel, of permitting 
the clash of conflicting points of view. Moreover, no study of this 
subject would be accurate or complete if it were limited to weighing 
the evidence of individual passages, important and necessary as that 
is ; we must also consider the trend of the work as a whole. 

We soon find that the term, " natural goodness/' needs definition 
and that Rousseau himself does not always offer us the same con- 
ception of it. The word " nature/' then as now, is used sometimes 
with one meaning, sometimes with another. In a majority of cases, 
however, the word is employed to designate a state, a character, or 
impulses, which are primitive, instinctive, or non-artificial. 8 Thus, 

5 Pierre Maurice Masson, La religion de J. J. Rousseau ( 1916) , II, p. 294. 
"Irving Babbitt, Rousseau and Romanticism (1919), p. 187. Cf. pp. 
122, 130, 157, 256, 330. Cf. Diderot, (Euvres (Assezat), n, p. 246. 

7 Paul Elmer More, Shelburne Essays, vi, pp. 215, 223. 

8 After analysing the use of the word " nature " in the Nouvelle Heloise, 
I have reached the following conclusions. Nature is used fifty-five times 
to designate the original creative force in the universe; one hundred 
five times to mean that which is due only to this original creative force, 
hence , a primitive, instinctive, or non-artificial state, character, or im- 
pulses; ten times to indicate the existing scheme of things; twelve times 
applied to the physical universe; twelve times meaning the physical 
human or animal 'body or life ; once in the sense of sort or kind ; and three 
times to indicate accord with truth or probability. Of course, in such 
classifications, the dividing line is not always easy to draw and it is not 
claimed that these 'figures -are to be taken as more than approximately 
true. Different individuals, even the same individual at different times, 
would undoubtedly make a somewhat different classification. Hence, we 
feel justified in concluding only that Jean-Jacques puts the emphasis over- 
whelmingly upon primitivism in the passages where he uses the words 
nature or naturel or naturellement. 


it is clear that in the passages where Kousseau specifically uses the 
word " nature " he is most often stressing his belief in primitivism, 
but when the question of man's goodness or virtue is raised, we soon 
find Eousseau offering us several different points of view. 

There is, for example, the belief expressed by Wolmar that man 
is neither good nor bad, but neutral. " Je conc,us que le caractere 
general de rhomme est un amour propre indifferent par lui-meme, 
bon ou mauvais par les accidents qui le modifient." 9 This theory 
might be criticized as implying that man is really selfish, hence 
ready to commit a bad action at the invitation of circumstances, 
and therefore already bad in principle. But I have not found this 
idea expressed elsewhere in the Nouvelle Helo'ise and we need 
not dwell upon it here. 

Much more important, as we should expect from our previous 
discussion, is the place given to what we may call primitive good- 
ness. Man was good " before the Fall," said the Church, " before 
/ being spoiled by society," said Bousseau as he looked back regret- 
fully, like many another since, to "the good old days." Saint- 
Preux writes : " Tout consiste a ne pas gater Fhomme de la nature 
en 1'appropriant a la societe." 10 Julie comments upon her chil- 
dren : " Nourris encore dans leur premiere simplicite, d'ou leur 
viendroient des vices dont ils n'ont point vu d'exemple ? " 1T Saint- 
Preux, using a commonplace of voyage literature, speaks of "les 
peuples bons et simples " 12 and Julie says : " L'on devient comme 
un nouvel etre sorti recemment des mains de la nature/' 13 Saint- 
Preux feels himself " conf us, humilie, consterne, de sentir degrader 
en moi la nature de Fhomme." 14 " Tous les caracteres sont bons 
et sains en eux-memes, selon M. de Wolmar. II n'y a point, dit-il, 
d'erreurs dans la nature; tous les vices qu'on impute au naturel 
sont Feffet des mauvaises formes qu'il a regues." 15 Other similar 
passages might be quoted. 16 

Closely allied to this theory of primitive goodness is the idea of 
instinctive or innate goodness, which has offered to opponents of 

"J. J. Rousseau, (Euvres computes (Hachette, 1863), in, 459. 
' 10 Ibid., 545. " Ibid., 525. 

" Ibid., 492. " Ibid., 68. 

- "'Ibid., 291. "Ibid., 510. 

19 Cf. ibid., pp. 131, 375 (man is here admitted to have a tendency towar-i 
evil), 455, 512, 525. Contrast p. 513. 


Rousseau abundant opportunity to hold him up to easy ridicule. 
It is really primitive goodness looked at from a slightly different 
angle, for, if men are good by instinct, then primitive men are more 
likely to be true to their instincts, and hence good. Julie writes 
to Saint-Preux : " Tu regus du ciel cet heureux penchant a tout ce 
qui est bon et honnete : n'ecoute que tes propres desirs ; ne suis que 
tes inclinations naturelles." 17 Later she herself thanks Heaven 
" de lui avoir donne un cceur sensible et porte au bien." 18 Saint- 
Preux writes of her to Edouard : " Pour Julie, qui n'eut jamais 
d'autre regie que son cceur, 19 et n'en sauroit avoir de plus sure, elle 
s'y livre sans scrupule, et, pour bien faire, elle fait tout ce qu'il 
lui demande." 20 

But more frequently the Nouvelle Helo'ise offers still another con- 
ception- of life ; namely, that of a combat against one's desires and 
inclinations* " La f oiblesse est de 1'homme," says Julie, but, " sui- 
vant une regie plus sure que ses penchajos, il sait faire le bien qui 
lui coute, et sacrifier les desirs de son cceur a la loi du devoir." 21 
Claire writes to Julie: " Toute ta vie n'a ete qu'un combat con- 
tinuelj ou, meme apres ta def aite, .1'honneur, le devoir, n'ont cesse 
de register, et ont fini par vaincre." 22 If it be objected that here 
" honor " and " duty " are but man's " natural goodness " gaining 
the victory, we are merely brought to a conception of goodness as 
a result of man's higher nature triumphing over the lower. This 
constitutes a third interpretation of " la bonte natutellev^perfectly 
legitimate here, but certainly very different from that usually given. 
Note too that Julie writes to Saint-Preux : " Voila, cher Saint- 
Preux, la veritable humilite du chretien; c'est de trouver toujours 

" Ibid., 269. w Ibid., 624. 

19 When Rousseau here uses the word cceur, does he mean instinct, in- 
tuition, or emotional feeling, all three being in contrast to raison, or does 
he perhaps mean conscience? If. the latter, then of course, this passage 
means something quite different from merely following the path of least 
resistance. The query helps to illustrate the difficulty of treating this 
subject of " la ibont6 naturelle " and warns one of the danger of basing an 
argument wholly, or even chiefly, upon Rousseau's use of special words 
or upon what seems to foe his meaning in particular passages quoted. 

24 Ibid., 486. 'Cf. pp. 142, 175, 260, 347 (this view is later renounced), 
488, 153, 252 (this instinctive goodness is later lost), 253, 268, 271, 293, 
521, 577. 

"Ibid., 367. Ibid., 467. 


sa tache au-dessus de ses forces/' 23 Saint-Preux himself writes 
to Julie : " Chere amie, ne savez-vous pas que la vertu est un etatH 
de guerre et que pour y vivre on a tou jours quelque combat a rendre I 
contre soi?" 24 Certainly this would seem to accord with Mr. 
Schinz's statement regarding the First Discourse that virtue is con- 
sidered as "une lutte contre les penchants naturels de Phomine," 
thus implying that " 1'homme est naturellement mauvais." 25 If it 
be maintained that man, primitively good, is now struggling against 
himself to get back to his former state of goodness, what have we 
but the Biblical doctrine of the Fall, expressed in other words? 
Certainly, to all intents and purposes, man, whether spoiled by 
society or not, whether fallen from his state of original goodness 
or not, now appears in the words of the Nouvelle Helo'ise as evil 
and forced to struggle "contre soi" in this present ageJ Surely . 
Kousseau has not here lost sight of "la faiblesse humaine," as 
Masson has stated he sometimes did. We note these words of Saint- 1 
Preux to Julie : " S'ensuit-il de la que la priere so it inutile ? A I 
Dieu ne plaise que je m'ote cette ressource contre mes foiblesses !" 26 * 
Julie is orthodox enough when she says : " TsTmia 

est vrai, maisjnous sommes ignorans. foibles, portes au mal. Et 
d'ou nous viendroient la lumiere et la force, si ce n'est de celui qui 
en est la source ? " 2T Thus she refers directly to divine aid as 
necessary to supplement human weakness. "J'osai compter sur 
moi-meme," says Julie, " et voila comment on se perd." 28 In an- 
other passage she observes : " Le premier pas pour sortir de notre 
misere est de la connoitre. Soyons humbles pour etre sages ; voyons 
notre foiblesse, et nous serons forts." 29 Saint-Preux quotes Julie 
on the Protestant religion, which not only follows nature but cor- 
rects it, " qui la suit et la rectifie." 30 Moreover, Julie came to 
modify her first views on the education of her children. " J'avois 
d'abord resolu de lui accorder tout ce qu'il demanderoit, persuadee 
que les premiers mouvemens de la nature sont tou jours bons et 
salutaires. Mais je n'ai pas tarde de connoitre qu'en se faisant un 
droit d'etre obeis, les enfans sortoient de Tetat de nature presque 

"Ibid., 585. M IUd., 595. 

25 Rev. du XVIIIe sitcle (1913), p. 445. 
* Rousseau, CEuvres, m, 596. 

' "Ibid., 587.. *Ibid., 625. 

' "'Ibid., 588. *>Ibid., 434. 


en naissant, et contractoient nos vices par notre exemple, les leurs 
par notre indiscretion." 31 This saves the face of the theorizer, 
but " tout juste." It is really an absolute denial of any practical 
value in the goodness of nature principle, primitive or otherwise. 
Who does not here see the practical Rousseau replacing, at least for 
a moment, the theoretical? In support of the combat theory of 
virtue there are, strange as that may seem in the light of tradi- 
tional views regarding Jean- Jacques, many more passages than 
there are in favor of other theories of life and conduct. 32 

M Ibid., 516. 

32 Note also the following : " II n'y a que 1'art de les r6primer [les pas- 
sions] qui nous manque" (p. 143); " 1'honneur de combattre " (p. 144); 
" j'ai si peu de comfbats a rendre centre moi-meme, tant je vous trouve 
attentive a les pre"venir " (p. 145) ; "la dure espece de combat que nous 
aurons de"sormais a soutenir " (p. 173) ; " te'moins de ses combats et de sa 
victoire " (p. 179); " tu as plus combattu " (p. 181); "ce noble enthou- 
siasme . . . qui t'fileva toujours au-dessus de toi-mme " (p. 181); " tel 
est, mon ami, 1'effet assur6 des sacrifices qu'on fait a la vcrtu : s'ils content 
souvent & faire, il est tou jours doux de les avoir f aits " ( p. 198 ) ; love, 
"qui sait 6purer nos penchans naturels " (p. 209); "ma foiblesse " (p. 
209) ; " ne serez-vous vertueux que quand il n'en coutera rien de l'6tre? " 
(p. 221) ; mention of "la fermetg stoique " and of " Epictete " (p. 239) ; 
" il est fait pour combattre et vaincre " (p. 246) ; " veux-je 6tre vertueuse " 
is contrasted with " veux-je suivre le penchant de mon coeur," but nature 
is here thought of as on the side of duty (p. 252) ; " je vois ainsi d6figurer 
ce divin modele que je porte au-dedans de moi, et qui servoit a la fois 
d'objet a mes de"sirs et de regie a mes actions" (p. 291) ; "les premiers 
actes de vertu sont tou jours les plus ptoibles " (p. 330) ; "Julie m'a trop 
appris comment il faut immoler le bonheur au devoir" (p. 331); " in- 
sensee et farouche vertu! j'ob6is a ta voix sans me'rite; je t'abhorre en 
faisant tout pour toi " (p. 332) ; "en te livrant a la fois a tous les pen- 
chans, tu les confonds au lieu de les accorder, et deviens coupaible a force 
de vertus " (p. 348) ; "celui qui, par respect pour le mariage, rSsisteroit 
au penchant de son coeur " ( p. 349 ) ; " les d^sirs mgmes ne sembloient 
naltre que pour nous donner 1'honneur de les vaincre " ( p. 359 ) ; "la force 
dont j'avois ibesoin pour register a mon propre coeur" (p. 363) ; " malgr^ 
que j'en aie, il m'eleve au-dessus de moi-mme, et je sens qu'il force de 
confiance il m'apprend Jl la m^riter " (pp. 415-16) ; Julie believes in dis- 
cipline, not indulgence, for children (p. 421); " elle soutint ce jour-la le 
plus grand combat qu'ame humaine ait pu soutenir; elle vainquit pour- 
tant " (p. 481); "on n'a besoin que de soi pour r6primer ses penchans, 
on a quelquefois besoin d'autrui pour discerner ceux qu'il est permis de 
suivre," thus pointing out the necessity of a check upon many of our in- 
clinations (p. 483) ; " le spectacle d'une ame sublime et pure, tribmphant 


If it seems that these passages are not in themselves conclusive, 
consider the book as a whole. *The first parts of the Nouvelle 
Heloise are the story of the downfall of Saint-Preux and of Julie 
through following their natural instincts without check. Then 
comes Julie's conversion, and what started as though it were to be 
a glorification of the primal rights of passion and of "natural" 
instincts, continues as the narrative of Julie's struggle toward a 
virtue to be won, not through her own strength or " natural good- 
ness" alone, but through divine aid. It is true that at the end 
we find her love for Saint-Preux still burning, but in spite of this 
she is able to rejoice that death will soon remove from her the possi- 
bility of yielding to this love, a fact which seems to show that she 
too at the end finds herself very human in her weakness and unable 
to work out alone her own salvation. Her very acquiescence, how- 
ever, in this outcome shows that duty has triumphed over her 
natural instincts. Is not the outcome optimistic rather than pessi- 
mistic ? 33 Was not her real mistake in thinking that the menage 
a trois could be successful ? Whether Kousseau consciously intended 
it or not, such seems to be the conclusion of his book. Let us note 

de ses passions et regnant sur elle-m&ne" (p. 482); " je doute qu'on 
puisse jamais tirer un tx>n parti d'un mauvais caractere, et que tout natu- 
rel puisse Stre tourng a bien" (p. 513); " aurions-nous jamais fait ce 
progres par nos seules forces? Jamais, jamais, mon. ami; le tenter mfime 
etoit une teme'ritfi " (p. 582) ; "ne goutons-nous pas mille fois le jour le 
prix des combats qu'elle [la vertu] nous a coutgs?" (p. 582) ; " 1'homme 
est plus libre d'eViter les tentations que de les vaincre " ( p. 583 ) ; "si la 
vie est courte pour le plaisir, qu'elle est longue pour la vertu! " (p. 584) ; 
"un homme qui sut comlbattre et souffrir pour elle [la vertu] (p. 585) ; 
"toute la resistance qu'on peut tirer de soi je crois 1'avoir faite, et toute- 
fois j'ai succombe"" (p. 602) ; These passages emphasize clearly the neces- 
sity of effort and struggle to realize the possibilities of one's higher nature. 
They are numerous enough to show that Rousseau by no means escaped 
so completely from tradition and from his Calvinistic ancestry as some 
have led us to believe. Whether they were written by Rousseau con- 
sciously or unconsciously, the important thing is that they are there and 
must not be passed over. 

** Did Rousseau bring about Julie's death at the end of the novel because 
he was afraid she would yield to her love for Saint-Preux, because he 
wished the novel to close with a scene likely to affect " les flmes sensibles," 
or because he felt the impossibility of continuing successfully the manage 
d troisf 


too with Lemaitre 34 that marriage, though an institution approved 
by society, is greatly instrumental in Julie's redemption and that 
in consequence we must conclude that nature and society are not 
always and completely at war. If it be urged that Rousseau, who 
is here writing a novel, merely yields to the necessities of the genre 
in depicting a struggle, that he is unconsciously influenced by his 
voracious reading of novelistic literature and by his familiarity with 
French classic drama, or that his Genevan and Protestant heritage 
is here to the fore, I do not doubt that all these factors played 
their part in thus causing him to emphasize the idea of a struggle 
for virtue. Explanation may account for the fact, it does not dis- 
pose of it. 

Furthermore, though Saint-Preux is generally taken as more 
completely Rousseau's mouthpiece than Julie and though it is true 
that Saint-Preux less commonly expresses doubt in human selfx 
sufficiency, yet we note that he is generally guided and overruled V 
by her in thought and action and is portrayed as looking up to her 
with respect and deference. 35 His virtue is almost wholly de- 
pendent upon hers. Julie herself has a chance to yield to her love 
for Saint-Preux, marry him, and live on Edouard's estate in Eng- 
land, but, in favor of her duty to her family, she refuses to follow 
her own inclinations. 36 Saint-Preux will not permit Edouard to 
follow " nature " to the extent of marriage with Laure, 37 and thus 
quite evidently defers to the conventions of society. Julie advocates 
humility rather than self-confidence, 38 although belief that man's 
inclinations were naturally good would produce exactly the opposite 

Thus, in addition to the unemphasized neutral attitude of Wol- 
mar, we have found expressed in the Nouvelle Heloise three other 
conceptions of human life in relation to good and evil. These are 
the theory of primitive goodness; the theory, so closely allied with 
primitivism, of instinctive goodness; and the theory oi_goodness | 
asJiarmonu with man's higher nature. The first and the last have*^ 
this in common ; namely, that both admit that man in this present 
age must struggle against evil tendencies in order to become vir- 
tuous. Even the second, conceived as following the inner light 

* 4 Lemaitre, J. J. Rousseau ( Eng. trans., 1ST. Y., 19O7 ) , pp. 199-200. 
^Eousseau, (Euvres, in, 418. * Ibid., 257-58. 

37 Hid., 553. ""Ibid., 585. 


possessed by every one, does not necessarily exclude the idea of 
difficulty and struggle in carrying out the dictates of one's con- 
science, though this is hardly the normal, natural interpretation 
that we should expect it to have. It is not the interpretation given 
to it by those who most closely followed so-called Eousseauistic 

We have shown that -in the Nouvelle Helo'ise Eousseau broke 
much less with tradition than has been thought. He is more con- 
servative than radical, clinging instinctively to much of his Calvin- 
istic heritage, conscious that his own life was filled with bitter 
struggle, influenced also probably by the technique of the novel and 
the drama. Explain as you will the reasons for this, the fact 
remains. Does it not seem that the closely associated ideas of 
primitive and of instinctive goodness were theoretical conceptions 
which pleased his fancy and gave him a point de depart, from 
which to attack the shortcomings of his own time, but did not really 
form part of his own actual experience, did not harmonize with 
his own struggle-filled life, which showed so clearly the presence 
of evil tendencies that must be overcome by actual comoat against 
one's natural inclinations? If Eousseau did not always hold to 
this latter view, the fact but shows how his theories sometimes led 
him away from the rock bottom of tested experience. The Nouvelle 
Heloise is in the main truer to life. " La Nouvelle Helo'ise," says 
M. Lanson, " est dans le plan du reel." 39 As between the three 
conceptions of " la bonte naturelle," primitive goodness, instinctive 
goodness, and goodness 'thatjts naturaj_jtn the best, in $r\ } ywo find 
most prominently emphasized in the Nouvelle Heloise, not the sec- 
ond, the untenable doctrine that has often been considered as 
summing up all of Eousseau's thought, nor the first, which is 
opposed to all modern evolutionary ideas, but the third, which 
portrays man's higher nature warring for the victory against the 
evil in his lower nature, a doctrine which does in fact seem most 
in accord with daily experience. 

Eousseau, as we have seen, uses nature in a majority of cases to 
indicate a primitive state or character, which is non-artificial and 
good, but this prehistoric state must in no way be confused with 
the present, for man now is not good but possesses bad tendencies 

39 G. Lanson, " L 'units de la pensee de J. J. Rousseau," Annales de la 
Soctete J. J. Rousseau, vm, p. 24. 



v I and must fight to overcome these evil inclinations. Hence virtue 
' requires a moral struggle. It is no easy road. In proportion to 
the success of this struggle will man recover his primitive goodness 
and divest himself of artificial accretions, which are " unnatural " 
and bad. The contrast between Kousseau's idealistic attitude 
toward the past and his realistic estimate of the present helps to 
explain many of the seeming contradictions in his thought. It is a 
contrast which should be taken into account by modern criticism. 
The true significance of the doctrine of natural goodness may 
easily escape us at this distance from the eighteenth century. Espe- 
cially is this the case if emphasis is placed upon the false psychology 
patent in any theory of instinctive goodness literally interpreted. 
But its real significance lies elsewhere. To those who held a hor- 
rible belief in the eternal damnation of unbaptized infants or of 
the non-elect 40 it preached the gospel that any one might be freed 
from his sin regardless of his creed, a belief which is now becoming 
a commonplace of .our daily thought. To many others, devoted 
to salon and "boudoir life, it called for an about-face toward a 
wholesome frankness, simplicity and naturalness. 41 It opposed 
fatalism and laissez faire and called man to fulfil a nobler mission 
than in the past and to realize the highest possibilities of his 
nature. These are its permanent contributions to the cause of 
civilization. For them it deserves to be remembered. 42 

Ohio State University. 

40 Cf. W. E. H. Leoky, History of the Rise and, Influence of the Spirit of 
Rationalism in Europe (N. Y., 1886), i, pp. 357 ff. 

41 Cf. G. Lanson, Histoire de la litterativre francaise (14th ed., 1918), 
p. 784. 

42 For helpful suggestions made during the composition of this article, 
I am very grateful to Professors G. Chinard, E. P. Dargan, H. C. Lan- 
caster, and A. O. Lovejoy. It is a pleasure to acknowledge their kindness. 

According to Paul Schlenther, the official Hauptmann-biographer, 
Gerhart Hauptmann spent the summer of 1888 in Zurich, Switzer- 
land. 1 It was during that summer that he made the acquaintance 
of Wedekirid. "Aufierdem gehorten Gerhart Hauptmann und 
Mackay zu unserem Kreis," Wedekind writes in an autobiographic 
sketch. 2 

The vast Hauptmann-literature is silent on this subject. Two 
critics 3 of Wedekind briefly refer to the meeting of the two poets. 
They also make mention of the fact that Hauptmann used Wede- 
kind as the prototype of Eobert in Das Friedensfest, and that Wede- 
kind avenged himself by introducing Hauptmann as the naturalistic 
poet Meier in his comedy Die junge Welt; but no one has appar- 
ently attempted to compare the resemblances in the two plays with 
the actual events in the lives of the two dramatists. Such a detailed 
comparison is the purpose of this paper. 

For the facts of Wedekind's life we are practically restricted to 
the above-mentioned autobiographic sketch. The parallels with 
Das Friedensfest are striking. 

Eobert in Das Friedensfest says of his father, " Ein Mann, der 
als Arzt in tiirkischen Diensten gestanden" (p. 31 ). 4 Wedekind 
reports, " Mein Vater . . . war Arzt und war als solcher zehn 
Jahre lang in Diensten des Sultans in der Tiirkei gereist." 

In another place Eobert continues, "Anno 48 hat Vater auf den 
Barrikaden angefangen" (p. 92). Wedekind relates, " Er safi 
1848 als Kondeputierter (Ersatzmann) im Frankfurter Parla- 

* A paper read ibefore the German section at the meeting of the Modern 
Language Association, held at Poughkeepsie, December 30th, 1920. 

*Paul Schlenther, Gerhart Hauptmann Leben und Werke, 1912, p. 33. 

2 " Autobiographisches von Wedekind" '( niedergeschrieben 1901 .in 
Munchen ftir Ferdinand Hardekopf) Pan, 1911, p. 147 ff. 

3 Hans Kempner, Frank Wedekind als Mensch und Kiinstler, Berlin- 
Pankow, 1911. Artur Kutscher in Das Wedekindbuch, Munchen und Leip- 
zig, 1914, p. 196. 

*A11 references to Das Friedensfest are to vol. 3 of the Gesammelte 
Werke, 1906. 



Robert remarks, " Ein Mann von vierzig heiratet ein Madchen 
von sechzehn" (p. 30). Wedekind tells the following: " Mit 46 
Jahren heiratete er eine juuge Schauspielerin, die genau halb so alt 
war wie er selber. Diese Tatsache scheint mir nicht ohne Bedeutung." 
This latter phrase seems to point to an incompatibility between 
Wedekind's parents, a fact which Hauptmann apparently utilized 
in Wilhelm's remarks, " Mutter und Vater haben auch ihr Leben 
lang verschiedene Sprachen gesprochen" (p. 99), and in the cynical 
outburst of Robert, " Na, und danach ist es denn auch geworden ; 
ein stehender, fauler, gahrender Sumpf, dem wir zu entstammen 
das zweifelhafte Vergniigen haben. Haarstraubend ! Liebe 
keine Spur. Gegenseitiges Verstandnis Achtung nicht Ruhran 
und dies ist das Beet, auf dem wir Kinder gewachsen sind" 
(p. 31). 

With reference to her origin, Frau Scholz says, " Ich bin eben 
'ne einfache Seele der Vater war eben zu vornehm fur mich. 
Seine Mutter hatte ooch so was Vornehmes. Aber mei' Vater 
war friiher bluttarm in mir steckt eben das Armutsblutt ! " (p. 
80). Wedekind narrates, " Mein Vater, aus alter friesischer Adels- 
familie Der Vater meiner Mutter war ein Self-mademan. Er 
hatte als ungarischer Mausefallenhandler angefangen." 

The taint of insanity in the Scholz-f amily is parallelled by Wede- 
kind's report about his grandfather, " Er starb in voller Geistesum- 
nachtung." The musical ability in Frau Scholz and in Wilhelm 
reminds of Wedekind's remark, " Er (der Vater seiner Mutter) 
war im hohen Grade musikalisch begabt. Was meine Schwester 
Erika und meine Wenigkeit an rimsikalischer Begabung besitzen, 
stammt entschieden von ihm." 

Toward the end of the play Robert speaks of his vocation, " Sieh 
'mal, ich gehe jetzt in ein kleines geheiztes Comtoirchen, setze mich 
mit dem Riicken an den Ofen kreuze die Beine unter dem Tisch 
ziinde mir diese . . . selbe Pfeife hier an und schreibe in aller 
Gemiitsruhe hoffentlich, . solche . . . na, du weifit schon, solche 
Scherze, . . . solche Reklamescherze : Afrikareisender . . . nahe 
am Verschmachten, na . . . und da lafi ich denn gewb'hnlich eine 
Karawane kornmen, die unseren Artikel fiihrt. Mein Chef ist sehr 
zufrieden es geht durch den Inseratenteil aller moglichen Zeitun- 
gen " (p. 91). Wedekind' s sketch contains the following passage, 
" 1886 wurde in Kempthal bei Zurich das indes weltberiihmt ge- 


wordene Etablissement Maggi fiir Suppenwiirze gegriindet. Maggi 
engagierte mich gleich bei der Griindung als Vorsteher seines 
Reklame- und Pressbureaus." As a matter of fact, I remember 
distinctly having seen German children playing with the colored 
Maggi-cards, bearing the picture of the poor explorer, saved from 
starvation by the timely arrival of a caravan carrying the Maggi- 

Even the mask of Eobert bears a striking resemblance to a pic- 
ture of Wedekind dating back to 1889, which is very different from 
those of his later years. This picture 5 shows a slim -figure, with 
wan face, mustache and goatee. Hauptmann describes Robert as 
follows : " Mittelgrofi, schmachtig, im Gesicht hager und blafi, 
Seine Augen liegen tief und leuchten zuweilen krankhaft. Schnurr- 
undKinnbart" (p. 24). 

Apparently Wedekind had at that time gone thru the extreme 
of cynicism and pessimism, as is indicated by the three panto- 
mimes unearthed by Artur Kutscher. 6 But even then he had 
that ruthless impulse to speak the truth as he saw it, that loathing of 
cheap sentimentality and emotionalism, . of philistine morality and 
of moral compromises, which led him to deny the very existence of 
morals and of ideals. He had seen the contradictions of life and 
of civilization. 

Fortunately, Carl Hauptmann has given us an interesting picture 
of the Wedekind of 1888 : " Ich habe die Freude, Frank Wedekind 
seit seiner Friihzeit zu kennen, seit der Zeit, wo er in Zurich 
studierte. Der Mensch mit den edel beherrschten Ziigen konnte im 
nachsten Augenblicke wie in mystischer Verwandlung auch immer 
der melancholische oder tolle Gaukler sein, der sein blutendes, aus 
der Brust gerissenes Herz wie ein tanzendes Rad iiber den Jahr- 
markt trieb." And speaking of the later Wedekind, he continues, 
" Es handelt sich um das von der Urleidenschaf t ' Leben ' und 
' Liebe ' zerrissene Menschenherz, mit dem er seine Gaukeleien 
betreibt. . . Ein hochgradig erregter Erkenner unsrer Lebens- 
triebe zerqualt seine Seele." 7 

Wedekind is the idealist turned cynic, who with all his antics 
cannot free his soul from the idealistic impulse. Some of that early 

"See Wedekindbuch, opp. p. 12. 
Cf. Wedekindbuch, p. 194. 
7 L. c., p. 117. 


idealism, child-like purity and longing for the infinite is found in 
a few of his lyrics. The anguish of soul, which longs for harmony 
and sees only the meaningless contradictions of life, has found 
expression in the remarkable poem 

Selbstzersetzung. 8 

HochheiPge Gebete, die fromm ich gelernt, 
Ich stellte sie frech an den Pranger; 
Mein kindlicher Himmel, so herrlich besternt, 
Ward wtisten Gelagen zum Anger. 

Ich schalt meinen Gott einen schlafrigen Wicht; 
Ich schlug ihm begeistert den Stempel 
Heillosen Betrugs ins vergramte Gesicht 
Und wies ihn hinaus aus dem Tempel. 

Da stand ich allein im erleuchteten Haus 
Und liefi mir die Seele zerwiihlen 
Von grausiger Wonne, vom wonnigen Graus: 
Als Tier und als Gott mich zu fiihlen. 

Auch hab' ich den mordrischen Kampf in der Brust, 
Am Altar gelehnt, tibernachtet, 
Und hab' mir, dem Gotte, zu Kurzweil und Lust, 
Mich sellber zum Opfer geschlachtet. 

Such an idealist turned cynic is also Hauptmann's Eobert. Sev- 
eral times Hauptmann uses such stage- directions as, " er lachelt 
ironisch " (p. 66), " lacht bitter " (p. 69, 80) and has him exclaim 
"lachhaft . . . direkt komisch" (p. 73). His own sister calls 
him " pietatlos " (p. 26) and " schamlos " (p. 27} . When he finds 
himself moved by the emotional appeal of the Christmas-celebration 
and the sunny idealism of Ida and Frau Buchner, he disdainfully 
and, as it were involuntarily, utters the word " Kinderkomodie " 
(p. 70). He actually experiences physical pain. "Robert scheint 
gegen Ende des Gesanges unter den Tb'nen physisch zu leiden. Die 
Unmoglichkeit sich dem Eindruck derselben zu entziehen, scheint 
ihn zu foltern und immer mehr und mehr zu erbittern" (p. 69). 
While conversing with his brother he mutters " Akrobatenseele " 
(p. 61) and confesses, "ich habe das unabweisbare Bediirfnis mich 
selbst anzuspucken." 

In the spirit of Selbstzersetzung, he says to his mother, who has 

8 Frank Wedekind, Gesammelte Werke, 1912, i, 76. 


used the pious phrase, " der liebe Gott wird mich schon bei Zeiten 
erlosen I" . . . " Von Gott erlost sein, mochte man lieber ! " 
(p. 81). 

Hauptmann has motivated Kobert's cynicism thru the horrible 
home-life of the Scholz-family and the cruel and unfeeling educa- 
tion received at the hands of his father and his teachers. " Voile 
zehn Stunden taglich hockten wir iiber den Biichern." Wilhelm 
tells Ida, " da spielten sich Szenen ab Mutter zog mich am linken, 
Vater am andern Arm. . . . Wir wehrten uns . . . natiirlich half 
das nichts, unser Dasein wurde nur noch unertraglicher. . . . 
Wir waren ja zu der Zeit erst Jungens von neun oder zehn Jahren, 
and von da ab horte die gute Absicht auf . . . . Fiinf Jahre lang 
waren wir uns selbst uberlassen. . . . Banditen und Tagediebe 
waren wir. . . . Wir verfielen aber noch auf ganz andre Dinge, 
deren Folgen wir wohl kaum jemals verwinden werden" (p. 47). 

I am inclined to believe that this is also the explanation of Wede- 
kind's cynicism. I have no direct evidence, except possibly the 
vitriolic way, in which he caricatures the teaching profession in 
such characters as Kektor Sonnenstich and Professors Affenschmalz, 
Kniippeldick, Hungergurt, Knochenbrueh, Zungenschlag and Flie- 
gentod in Frilhlings Erwachen. But there is a startlingly reminis- 
cent passage in Tod und Teufel, where 'the philosophic white-slaver 
Casti Piani breaks out, " Was ich als Kind erlebt habe, das erlebt 
kein menschliches Geschb'pf, ohne dafi seine Tatkraft bis zum 
Grabe gebrochen ist. Eb'nnen Sie sich in einen jungen Menschen 
hineindenken, der mit seehzehn Jahren noch gepriigelt wird, weil 
ihm der Logarithmus von Pi nicht in den Kopf will?! und der 
mich priigelte, war mein Vater! Und ich priigelte wieder! Ich 
habe meinen Vater totgepriigelt ! " 9 Does not this incident remind 
one of the box on the ear, which Wilhelm Scholz gave to his father ? 
And did Wedekind perhaps draw on his own experiences, when he 
makes Casti Piani continue, "Ich habe . . . nie mehr die Be- 
schimpfungen gehb'rt, die wahrend meiner ganzen Kindheit meiner 
Mutter zuteil warden. . . . Aber das sind Kleinigkeiten. Die 
Ohrfeigen, Faustsehlage und Fufitritte, in denen Vater, Mutter 
und ein Dutzend Lehrer zur Entwiirdigung meines wehrlosen 
Korpers wetteiferten, waren Kleinigkeiten im Vergleich mit den 

Frank Wedekind, Gesammelte Werki, v, 19 f. (1913). 


Ohrfeigen, Fufitritten und Faustschlagen, in denen die Schicksale 
dieses Lebens miteinander wetteiferten, um meine wehrlose Seele zu 

Wedekind is the absolute individualist, who will brook no inter- 
ference with the full play of his instincts. Eobert Scholz asserts, 
" Das mufi jedem unbenommen bleiben . . . sich auf seine Art zu 
vergniigen. Ich wenigstens wiirde mir dieses Kecht auf keine Weise 
verkiimmern lassen, selbst nicht durch Gesetze" (p. 29). In 
another place he says, " Ich bin, wie ich bin. Ich habe ein Eecht 
so zu sein, wie ich bin" (p. 92). 

The foregoing parallels are as much as, with our limited knowl- 
edge of Wedekind' s early life, we can claim as direct influence. It. 
is very probable, however, that many other details are taken from 
Wedekind's experiences, for he felt deeply wounded by Haupt- 
mann's betrayal of his confidence. 

He took his revenge in the little-known comedy Die junge Welt, 
written according to Wedekind's own testimony in 1889, but not 
published until 1897. 10 In this light comedy, he introduces Haupt- 
mann in the disguise of the naturalistic poet, Franz Ludwig Meier, 
" ein Jungling mit bartlosem Antlitz, starkem Haarwuchs, wahr- 
end des ganzen Stiickes in Jagerscher Normalkleidung." Meier is 
a naturalist, going about with pencil and notebook and writing 
down his observations. In the end he goes crazy, as he himself 
admits, " Wenn ich meine naturalistischen Studien an Alma 
machte, dann wurde Alma unnatiirlich. "Wenn ich meine natural- 
istischen Studien an einem andren Objekt machte, dann wurde sie 
eifersiichtig. So blieb mir denn weiter nichts iibrig, als meine 
naturalistischen Studien an mir selber zu machen. Und das hat 
mir den Eest gegeben " (p. 88) . In this passage Wedekind satirizes 
the craze of the young naturalists to outdo Zola in his scientific 
observation of life. Gerhart Hauptmann still adhered to this 
notebook -habit at the time of his journey to Greece. 11 

Meier is the editor of the as yet not fully launched " Sonne," 
and as he boasts of how he has overcome one obstacle after the other, 
he exclaims, " Die ' Sonne ' harrt gewissermafien nur noch meines 

"Frank Wedekind, Gesammelte