\ \ \ I STUDIES IN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE IN CELEBRATION OF THE SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY OF JAMES MORGAN HART NOVEMBER 2, 1909 • > > > > > > >j>i* > > > ' > , j ' > > ' '•• • > • • » NEW YORK HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 1910 ft « » « * a . 1 ft ft ft « THE WAVERLY PRESS BALTIMORE 0<^ TO JAMES MORGAN HART, A.M., J.U.D., Litt.D. PROFESSOR OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE, EMERITUS, IN CORNELL UNIVERSITY WITH THE GRATITUDE AND AFFECTION OF HIS STUDENTS EDITORIAL COMMITTEE Clark Sutherland Northup Martin Wright Sampson William Strunk, Jr. Frank Thilly CONTENTS Thomas Forde's Love's Labyrinth. By Joseph Qtjincy Adams, Jk., Ph.D., Assistant Professor of the English Language and Literature in Cornell University 9 George Meredith in America. By Elmer James Bailey, Ph.D., Instructor in English in Cornell University 43 An Elementary Course in Old English. By Alma Blount, Ph.D., Instructor in English in the Michigan State Normal College 65 The Power of the Eye in Coleridge. By Lane Cooper, Ph.D., Assistant Professor of the English Language and Literature in Cornell University 78 A Middle- Irish Fragment of Bede's Eccle- siastical History. By Edward Godfrey Cox, Ph.D., Instructor in English in Cornell University 122 Some Scottish Influences on Eighteenth Century Literature. By Albert Davis, Ph.D., Late Instructor in English in Dartmouth College 179 A New Note on the Date of Chaucer's Knight's Tale. By Oliver Farrar Emerson, Ph.D., Oviatt Professor of English in Western Reserve Uni- versity 203 v Old English Modification of Teutonic Racial Conceptions. By Christabel Forstthe Fiske, Ph.D., Assis- tant Professor of English in Vassar College 255 English and the Law. By Herbert Latham Fordham, Ph.B., LL.B., of the New York Bar 295 An Index to the Non-Biblical Names in the English Mystery Plays. By Antoinette Greene, Ph.D., Associate Pro- fessor of English in Elmira College 313 Alfred the Great in Popular Tradition. By George Harley McKnight, Ph.D., Professor of English in Ohio State University 351 The Celtic Rite in Britain. By Mary Aloysia Molloy, Ph.D., Assistant Principal of Winona Seminary 366 Textual Notes on Layamon. By Benton Sullivan Monroe, Ph.D., Instruc- tor in English in Cornell University 377 Addison and Gray as Travelers. By Clark Sutherland Northup, Ph.D., Assis- tant Professor of the English Language and Liter- ature in Cornell University 390 The Plays of Edward Sharpham. By Martin Wright Sampson, M.A., Professor of English in Cornell University 440 A Note on the Verse Structure of Carew. By Charles Jacob Sembower, Ph.D., Professor of English in Indiana University 456 The Importance of the Ghost in Hamlet. By William Strunk, Jr., Ph.D., Professor of English in Cornell University 467 Contemporary American Philosophy. By Frank Thilly, Ph.D., LL.D., Professor of Philosophy in Cornell University 486 vi THOMAS FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH BY JOSEPH QUINCY ADAMS, JR., PH.D. Thomas Forde Of Thomas Forde little is known 1 save what may be gleaned from his printed works, pri- marily his Fenestra in Pectore (1660), a col- lection of one hundred and two " familiar let- ters" addressed to his friends. In his epistle to the reader he explains: "I call this Packet of Letters Fenestra in Pectore; Letters being the best Casements, whereby men disclose them- selves. Judicium super Brachium, say the Phy- sicians, and I know no better Interpreter of the Heart, than the hand; especially in Familiar Letters, whereby friends mingle souls, and make mutual discoveries of, and to one another." It is true that the letters give us a good glimpse into Forde's "soul," yet they give us few glimp- ses into his life. I shall try, nevertheless, to put together all the biographical facts that a 1 A brief biographical note by Mr. Sidney Lee is given in The Dictionary of National Biography, 2 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. study of these letters, and of his other works, 2 has yielded. He was " something related" to John Udal, the well-known Puritan, although, he takes care to inform us, he was "no heir to his opinions"* In 1650, or thereabout, both of his parents were living: 4 he had no brother, 5 and, so far as we may judge, no sisters. In a letter to L.C.L. (p. 53) he tells us that he had never married, and in his subsequent letters (which extend beyond 1657), he gives no evidence of having "won a second-self." When we first see him, about 1647, he is residing in London, and seems to be connected in some way with the publish- ing trade: his "home" is "in the Church- yard." 6 In the British Museum copy of The Times Anatomized in several characters, byT. F., London, Printed for W. L., 1647, an early manu- script note describes the author as "T. Ford, servant to Mr. Sam Man." 7 The authenticity of this note is attested by certain letters in Fenes- tra in Pectore: in a communication to "W. L." (= William Leybourne, the printer) 8 Forde discusses the advisability of reprinting "my characters"; moreover, he addresses with great 2 1 have not been able to see The Times Anatomized, Lusus Forlunce, or A Theatre of Wits. 3 Foenestra, pp. 135-6. * Ibid., p. 22. 6 Ibid., p. 51. 6 Ibid., p. 50. 7 See the Catalogue of the British Museum. 8 Foenestra, p. 91. FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 3 respect two letters to "Mr. S. M." 9 This person, doubtless, was Samuel Man, a bookseller in London from 1616-74, who had his shop in St. Paul's Churchyard. In 1643 and 1644 he was Warden of the Company of Stationers, and in 1646, 1654, and 1658 he was Master. 10 Probably Forde's connection with Man's book- shop explains the fact that he was so widely read in classical and modern literatures. To one of his friends he writes: "I have read, that one Philostratus lived seven yearesinhis Tomb, to acquaint himself with Death. Truly, I have conversed above two seven years 11 among the Dead, for so are our Authors esteemed; and indeed, our Shops may not unfitly be resembled to a Charnel-house: and there, and thus, have I gotten such a familiaritie with those faithful and unflattering Counsellours." 12 And in pre- senting "Mr. S. M." with one of his publica- tions (Lusus Fortunes?) he writes: "I have, at length, presumed this into your presence : The 9 Ibid., pp. 40, 76. The letter on p. 16 "To Mr. S. M. at Barbadoes" was, obviously, addressed to another person, apparently a young man, to whom Forde gives much whole- some advice. 10 See Henry R. Plomer, A Dictionary of the Booksellers and Printers 1641-1667 (The Publications of the Biblio- graphical Society, 1907). 11 If this means that Forde had worked in a book-shop for fourteen years, and if he began work at the age of twenty- one, then he must have been born in 1613-15. 12 Fcenestra, p. 79. 4 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. rather, because I do hereby but return you the Hony, made from the various flowers of your own garden ; where, I hope, I have not (as some that do, Spinas librorum colligere) weeded books; but crop't their blossomes, and yet left never the less behind." 13 Forde was well-versed in the Latin authors, knew some Greek, and quotes frequently from the Italian. The avidity with which he read is shown clearly in his corre- spondence, for he is constantly borrowing or returning books. From his letters, it is obvious that Forde was the author of a number of pamphlets which have not been identified, if indeed they have been preserved. 14 On his title-pages he commonly used his initials instead of his full name, a prac- tice which one of his friends complained of, and which he defended as follows: 15 "Now, to your Why, let me return a Wherefore I have (to use your expression, and who can use bet- ter) masked my self under the single letters of T. F. that being unknown, I might more freely hear the worlds censure. I remember a face- tious tale of a Frenchman, that had printed much, concealing his own name: One asking a man that brought his Copies to the press, Who the Author was ? He said, 'Twas one that 13 Ibid., p. 41. 14 Ibid., pp. 40, 46, 60, 61, 62, 66, 68, 82, 89, 100, 102, 120, 140. 16 Ibid., p. 72. FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 5 desired to serve God invisibly," Among other "pamphlets" he clearly seems to refer to a vol- ume of letters: "I have sent you a Pamphlet, that may serve as a foyl to set off Balzack [which, having borrowed, he is now returning] the better: Wherein expect neither Cicero nor Seneca: neither Howel nor Balzack; neither Learning nor Language; nor any Letters begin- ning with the ambitious title of My Lord, or Madam; they are more proud of the name of Friend." 16 And to another correspondent he writes: 17 "If you think the Frontispiece dis- crepant to the following leaves, I shall conform the printed Title to the written Book, not the written Book to the printed Title : For I resolve not to change their name, nor alter their prop- ertie of Familiar Letters, for my private friends " n Another pamphlet seems to have been on the subject of Friendship. 19 In several places Forde tells us that he was poor. 20 Yet in a certain "Mr. T. P." he found a "Meccenus" whose generosity was "a miracle in this Age," and who frequently "cast coyn" "into a shallow Forde." 21 Later Forde culti- vated the friendship of another wealthy gen- 18 Ibid., p. 89. 17 Ibid., p. 94. 18 Cf. also pp. 65, 66. 19 Ibid., p. 154. 20 Ibid., pp. 64, 67. 21 Ibid., pp. 67, 93, 95, 103, 120. 6 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. tleman, "Mr. D. P.," with such "frequent visits" that "detracting tongues" made of it "scandal, as well as slander." In defending himself Forde wrote to "Mr. D.P.": "Twasnot your fortune, but your favour, that I have court- ed; were you as poor as Codrus, I should love you no less than I do; and were you as rich as Croesus, I could love you no more. I conceived myself obliged by my Profession to wait upon you as a Scholar." 22 Forde was a staunch, even a pious royalist, and most of his friends seem to have been of the same faith. His best friend was Edward Bar- wick, whom he affectionately addresses as "Honest Ned." 23 I have identified him as, in all probability, Edward, the younger brother of John Barwick (1612-1664) the staunch royalist who for his services to the crown was made Dean of St. Paul's; and of Peter Barwick (1619- 1705), Physician in Ordinary to King Charles II. The parents of the Barwicks, although they sent John and Peter to the university, were unable to educate their other sons so well; yet Edward was able to assist his older brothers 22 Ibid., pp. 113, 116. 23 The identification of the "E. B." of Forde's letters as Edward Barwick is made positive by the anagram (Fcenestra, p. 38) "Bad, wicked warr. Anagr.," and by the signature "Edw. Barwick" affixed to the commendatory verse in Love's Labyrinth. To him Forde addressed nine letters {Fcenestra, pp. 25, 29, 34, 38, 49, 55, 61, 64, 89), and he refers to him in several other letters. FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 7 in the management of the King's correspon- dence. 24 This perhaps explains why, as we learn in Forde's letters, he was imprisoned and for a time in grave danger of losing his life. Another close friend was C. F. [Flower], a clergyman. 25 The friend addressed as "W. L." ("Will") was, undoubtedly, William Ley- bourne, the printer and well-known author of books on mathematics. 26 The "J. H." ("Honest Jack") to whom Forde addresses five letters, has been identified as James Howell. 27 Other identifications of Forde's friends might be made, yet these seem representative. Shortly after the execution of King Charles, Forde left London. It seems possible, both from the nature of his subsequent letters, 28 and from the great amount of sacred verse in his Fragmenta Poetica, that he became a clergy- man. For a time, at least, he was living "near Maldon" in Essex. During his residence there 24 Edward Barwick is not entered in the D. N. B., but see under "John Barwick." 25 To "C. F." Forde addressed twelve letters, (Fenestra, pp. 6, 27, 35, 42, 51, 54, 58, 62, 99, 109, 121. 127), and he refers to him in several other letters (Ibid., pp. 15, 32, etc.). 26 Fenestra, pp. 46, 65, 84, 91. 27 Ibid., pp. 66, 69, 77, 79, 85. Although this identification is assumed by writers on James Howell, I can discover no real evidence that supports it. Mr. Joseph Jacobs, in his excel- lent edition of Howell's Epistolce Ho-Eliance (vol. ii, p. 686), quotes one of Forde's letters: apparently he was not aware of the others. 28 Fenestra, pp. 127, 130, 133, 138, 145. 8 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. he addressed an interesting letter to Thomas Fuller. Since the opportunity of writing on Forde is rare, and since, to use our author's phrase, "Letters" are "the best Casements, whereby men disclose themselves," I reprint this letter to give the reader a glimpse into Forde's "breast." It is, I may add, the most interesting of the letters, and contains the larg- est number of biographical facts. To Mr. T. F. Sir, Having lately (not without pleasure and profit) read your Church-History; by which, you have not only indebted our Church in particular, but the whole Common- wealth of Learning in general; my memory continually upbraided me with ingratitude, till I found out this way to convey my resentments. For, though our Returns of thanks ought to be large and universal, as your merit, yet your goodness (I hope) will not refuse the single gratitude of private persons. In that number (though the last, and the least) I am bold to tender my mite. A task indeed better befitting a more equal pen, since none is able to do it but your own. But I know your modesty is as great as your merit, the highest worths being always accompanied with the lowest humilitie. May your name ever live, who have rais'd so many to life, and rescued their memories from the tyranny of oblivion. Amongst many others, I am particu- larly obliged to your courtesie, in the remembrance of that good man Mr. Udal, whom by kindred I am something related. One, of whom we have this tradition, that he was the first man King James asked for when he came into England; and being answered, that he was dead, the King (whose judg- ment was an exact standard of learning & learned FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 9 men) reply'd By my sal, then the greatest Scholar in Europe's dead. And certainly, by his own party (if they may be admitted for competent Judges) it is not yet resolv'd, whether his Learning or his Zeal were greatest; and they think they justly boast him a Confessor, if not a Martyr for that Cause, which since hath paid those scores with Interest. Now, though I am no heir to his opinions, yet a small affinity to his Person, makes me embrace the opportunitie of proffering you that Intelligence you complain to want, the rather, because (perhaps) no man can now do it but my self; and I have a Relation of all his Trials, Censures, and Sentence, written by himself; which (I doubt not) may give you a satisfactorie account in what you desire. If you please to command it, I shall be ambitious to serve you, and the truth therewith. But I could wish you would review that passage in the 31 Sect. After the Execution of Udal, &c. for he died at the White- Lyon (just as his pardon was procured) and was buried at St. Georges Southwark. And so I leave him to his Rest, wishing his good name and doctrines may survive his discipline. . . . Did I not fore-see that the relation would swell my discourse beyond the limits of a Letter, or /the length of your patience, I should assume the lib-ertie to inform you, that my neighbourhood to the place, acquaints me with some Relicts of Religious Houses, at and near Maldon, bearing still the name of an Abbey, a Friery, and a Nunnery. And, if we may judge Hercules by his foot, of the whole piece by the remnant, and of them by their Remaines, I should suppose them not behind many in England. As yet, I know little of them, but their ruines; but, if you vote it convenient, I shall endeavour to improve my present ignorance into a discoverie of them. I suppose it will be no hard task; I am sure it shall not, when in relation to your command. I must now take pitie of your patience, which had not run this hazard of abuse did I not know I have to do with so great a Candor, 10 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. from which I can expect no less than pardon. And in that presumption I crave your leave to be, as I subscribe my self Sir, your most assured servant, T. F. Forde's Published Works. Forde published the following works: (1) The Times anatomiz'd in severall char- acters. By T. F. Difficile est Satyram non scribere. Juv. Sat. 1. London. Printed for W. L., Anno 1647. [12mo.j This volume contains thirty characters — "A good King," "A discontented person," "A newter," "A novice-preacher," etc. For a full description of the book, with a reprint of one of the "characters," see Dr. Philip Bliss's edi- tion of Earle's Microcosmography. Forde, in his Familiar Letters (p. 91), discusses with the printer W[illiam] L[eybourne] the question of reprinting the volume: "Concerning the re- printing of my Characters, and augmenting them, I have had some serious thoughts, and the result is this. I find them, upon perusal, not suitable to the present State. . . So that I hold it not safe for you to print, or me to enlarge them." 29 This, as well as the manu- 29 This letter also reveals the fact that Robert Leybourne was the father of William Leybourne. Mr. H. R. Plomer in A Dictionary of the Booksellers and Printers 1641-1667 (The Publications of the Bibliographical Society, 1907) says that William was "possibly a brother of Robert Ley- bourne, with whom he was in partnership as a printer from about 1651." FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 11 script note on the title-page of the British Mu- seum copy, serves to identify the author as Thomas Forde. (2) Lusus Fortunce: The Play of Fortune: continually Acted by the severall Creatures on the Stage of the World. Or, A glance at the various mutability, inconstancie, and uncer- tainty of all earthly things. From a consider- ation of the present Times. By T. F. Printed for R. L. 1649. [12mo, sixty-four leaves.] This volume consists of essays on "the mutabil- ity of all earthly things," illustrated by numer- ous quotations from the classics and from mod- ern literature. (3) Five pieces (as described below) in prose and verse, with separate title-pages, and sep- arate pagination, but with continuous signa- tures. These are sometimes met with as sep- arate publications, the several title-pages bear- ing the date 1660; and sometimes in a single volume, with a general title-page dated 1661. The ordinary form of this title-page is: 30 Virtus Rediviva, A Panegyrick on our Late King Charles the I. &c. of ever blessed Memory. Attended, With severall other Poems from the same Pen. Vis. I. A Theatre of Wits: Being a Collection of Apo- thegms. II. Fcenestra in Pectore; or a Century of Familiar Letters. III. Loves Labyrinth: A Tragi- 80 From W. C. Hazlitt's Third and Final Series of Biblio- graphical Collections and Notes, 1887. 12 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. comedy. IV. Fragmenta Poetica: Or Poeticall Di- versions. Concluding, with a Panegyrick on His Sacred Majesties most happy Return. By T. F. Varietas delectat. London: Printed by R. & W. Ley bourn, for William Grantham. . . and Thomas Basset. . . 1661. In the Harvard University Library, however, is a copy 31 with the following title-page: A Theatre of Wits, Ancient and Modern. Attended with severall other ingenious Pieces from the same Pen. I. Fcenestra in Pectore, or a Century of Famil- iar Letters. II. Loves Labyrinth: A Tragi-comedy. III. Fragmenta Poetica: Or Poetical Diversions. IV. Virtus Rediviva, A Panegyrick on our late King Charles of ever blessed Memory. Concluding, with A Panegyrick on His Sacred Majesties most happy Return. By T. F. Varietas delectat. London Printed by R. & W. Leybourn, for Thomas Basset, in St. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-street. 1661. I give below a more detailed description of the "severall Pieces." (a) Virtus Rediviva, a prose tract of twenty- seven pages, lauding King Charles in extrava- gant terms. This is followed by Oweni Epigr. in Regicidas, six lines in Latin; An Elegie on Charts the First, &c, sixty lines; An Anniver- sary on Charts the First, 1657, and Second Anni- versary on Charts the First, 1658, two poems of fifty-six and fifty-eight lines, written on the respective anniversaries of the execution of King Charles. 31 This copy is from the library of J. Payne Collier, and earlier from the library of Sir Charles Clark. FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 13 (b) Loves Labyrinth. To be described later. (c) A Theatre of Wits, a collection of apo- thegms, chosen from Howell's Familiar Letters, and from other works. (d) Foznestra in Pectore, a collection of one hundred and two letters, addressed by Forde to his friends, and chosen, it seems, from his actual correspondence. To E. B. ( = Edward Barwick) he addresses nine letters; to C. F. (= C. Flower), twelve; to W. L. (= William Leybourne), four; to his father, one; to T. F. (= Thomas Fuller), one; to J. H. (= James Howell?) five; to S. M. (= Samuel Man), two. It is not easy to identify the others. Forde seems to have arranged the letters in a chron- ological order, and to have eliminated personal details. 32 Most of them are stilted, and remark- ably dull. One passage, however, may be quoted for its general interest to the student of the drama. In writing to Edward Barwick, Forde attempts to give the news in the city: 33 And yet, as if the Tragedie were ended, the Soul- diers have routed the Players. They have beaten them out of their Cock-pit, baited them at the Bull, and overthrown their Fortune. For these exploits, the Alderman (the Anagram of whose name makes A Stink) moved in the House, that the Souldiers might have the Players cloaths given them. H. M. stood 32 Cf. p. 124. 33 Page 56. 14 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. up, and told the Speaker, that he liked the Gentle- mans motion very well, but that he feared they would fall out for the Fools Coat. (e) Fragmenta Poetica, twenty-four pages, besides the title-page. The first eleven pages contain sacred poems, For Christmas Day, On the Nativity, The 25. Cap. of Job Paraphrased, etc. The next nine pages contain twenty- six short poems, epigrams, translations, etc., among them Loves Duel, out of Anacreon, printed also in Love's Labyrinth; a poem on George Her- bert, With Herberts Poeme; and four epigrams on Thomas Bastard. The last four pages con- tain a panegyric Upon His Sacred Majesties most Happy Return, on the 29th of May, 1660. On page 24 are printed the Errata for the entire volume. A Bibliographical Description of Love's Labyrinth.™ Love's Labyrinth ; [ or, | The Royal Shepherdess : | a iTragi-Comedie. I By Tho. Forde, Philo- thal.\ Quid Melius desidiosus agarn? Fata viam invenient. \ Comica festina gaudet sermone Thalia. \ London, | Printed by R. and W. Ley- bourn, for William | Grantham, and are to sold at the Signe | of the Black Bear in St. Pauls \ 44 From a copy in the possession of the writer, collated with a copy in the Harvard University Library. FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 15 Church-yard. 1660. [Small 8vo, pp. [vi] +72. Signatures V, X — Z, Aa, in eights.] Page [ii]. Back of title-page, blank. Pages [iii-iv]. "To his Worthy Friend Mr. Thomas Forde on his LOVES LABYRINTH," a commendatory poem in eight six-line stanzas, signed "N. C." Page [v]. "To my ingenious Friend, Mr. Thomas Forde, on his LOVES LABYRINTH," a commendatory poem of thirty-two iambic pen- tameter lines, rhyming in couplets, and signed "Edw. Barwick." Page [vi]. "Persons Personated," a list of the dramatis persona; at the bottom of the page, ' ' The Scwne Arcadia." Pages 1-72. The text of the play, without prologue or epilogue, and ending with the word "Finis." The following errors occur in the pag- ination: "16" for "19"; "49" for "39." The copy in the Harvard University Library has the error of "2" for "32": this error, however, does not occur in my copy. In general the book is poorly printed, and typographical errors are frequent. At the end of Fragmenta Poetica (p. 24) is given a list of Errata for the entire volume. I reprint below that part which refers to the play. 35 In Loves Labyrinth, on the title, for festina r, fes- tiva, in the first coppy of verses, after out-let r, there, 35 From a copy in the Harvard University Library. 16 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. p, 3 I, 4 r ready in, p, 3 Z 9 r, volleys Z, 18 r, drops, p, 8, Z, 30 r, thou now p, 10 Z, 9 r, thou thus, I, 15 r, wronged, p, 11, Z, 1 r, rashness, Z, ZZie ZasZ, r, mine, p, 23 Z, 12, r, be my, p, 26 Z, 20 r, too much, p, 40 [ = 29] Z 4 r, shine, p, 32 Z, 27 r, grown, p, 33 I, 9 r, can a, p, 36 Z, 9 r, her neck, p, 48 Z, last r, empty, p, 54 Z, 9 r, scornes, p, 55, Z, 12 r, and, p, 56 Z, 16 r, King. General Description of the Play. Love's Labyrinth seems to have been designed as a closet drama. It has neither prologue nor epilogue, and there is no evidence internal or external of its having been acted. It is written throughout in blank verse, save for the clownish speeches of Doron and Carmela (which, though printed as verse, are prose), and six love lyrics sung by the shepherds. Of Forde's ability as a poet I shall allow the reader to judge for him- self. The following celebration of the shep- herd's life is, I believe, the best example of his blank verse: How happy are these shepherds! Here they live Content, and know no other cares, but how To tend their flocks, and please their Mistress best. They know no strife, but that of love; they spend Their days in mirth, and when they end, sweet sleeps Repay and ease the labours of the day. They need no Lawyers to decide their jars; Good herbs and wholesome diet, is to them The only JZsculapius; their skill Is how to save, not how with art to kill. Pride and ambition are such strangers here, They are not known so much as by their names. FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 17 Their sheep and they contend in innocence Which shall excell, the Master or his flocks. With honest mirth, and merry tales they pass Their time, and sweeten all their cares. Whilst Courts are fill'd with waking, thoughtful strife, Peace and Content do crown the shepherds life. Two additional quotations will illustrate suf- ficiently the character of his blank verse : Men. Ah, cruel love! whose music is compos'd Of Lover's jars and discords, mixt with sighs! If I turn traytor once more unto love, I'll rob him of his deitie, and pull His little Kingdom down; I'll pull his wings, And with the quills made into pens, and dipt In saddest lovers' tears, instead of ink, I'll satires write against his tyrannic I do hate A luke-warm love: give me a love flames high, As it would reach the element of fire, From whence it came; a low and creeping flame Befits a chimney, not a lover's breast. Give me a love dare undertake a task Would fright an Hercules into an ague, A love dare tempt the boldest fate, and die An honour'd captive, or bold conqueror. Give me a daring, not a whining love, A love grows great with opposition, A love that scorns an easie task — things great And noble always are most difficult. This is the love (blind Cupid) I would have, A love that brings home trophies, or a grave. \ But Forde is at his best in his lyrics. The shepherd Menaphon sings: 18 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. Fond Love, no more Will I adore Thy feigned deity. Go throw thy darts At simple hearts, And prove thy victory. Whilst I do keep My harmless sheep, Love hath no power on me : "Pis idle souls Which he controlls; The busie man is free. After having seen the beautiful shepherdess, Samela, however, Menaphon sings: No more, no more, Fond Love give o're; Dally no more with me. Strike home, and bold, Be hot, or cold, Or leave thy deitie. And finally to the fair shepherdess he pipes: Why so nice and coy, fair Lady, Prithee why so coy ? If you deny your hand and lip Can I your heart enjoy? . . . 8e The playwright, too, gives us a translation of Anacreon's The Duel. This was rendered by Thomas Stanley in 1651, and by Abraham Cowley in 1656; yet Forde's translation, I be- lieve, is by far the most pleasing. ,n Obviously imitated from Suckling's Aglaura iv, 1 : Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 19 LOVE'S DUEL. Cupid all his arts did prove, To invite my heart to love; But I always did delay His mild summons to obey, Being deaf to all his charms. Straight the god assumes his Arms. With his bow and quiver, he Takes the field to duel me. Armed like Achilles, I, With my shield alone, defie His bold challenge. As he cast His golden darts, I as fast Catch'd his arrows in my shield, Till I made him leave the field. Fretting, and disarmed then, The angry god returns agen, All in flames; 'stead of a dart, Throws himself into my heart. Useless I my shield require When the fort is all on fire. I in vain the field did win; Now the enemy's within. Thus betray'd, at last I cry, "Love, thou hast the victory!" Source — Gomersall's "Sforza." Langbaine, in his Account of the English Dra- matick Poets (1 691), says : " Part of this Play is stollen from GomersaVs Tragedy of Sforza Duke of Millain." This statement has been repeated by almost every subsequent writer on the play, and has been generally interpreted as meaning that Forde borrowed from Sforza a part of the plot. Thus Professor Schelling (Elizabethan Drama ii, 177) says : "I cannot see 20 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. what causes Halliwell-Phillipps to find any re- semblance between Love's Labyrinth and Gomer- saFs Sforza, a drama of totally different type." A careful examination of Sforza shows that in plot Forde was not indebted to this tragedy for one jot or tittle; however, he was indebted to Gomersall for some twenty odd lines of text, filched without important change from act i, scene 1, of Sforza. The stolen lines (Love's Labyrinth i, 5, p. 14) are: King. Why weeps my dear? Art. Ask why I do not weep. (Poor Artaxia) are my tears denied me! Ask why I do not rave, tear my hair thus, Why such a weight of sorrow doth not rob So much of woman from me, as complaints ! Or rather, why do I not cloud the skie With sighs; till at the last with one bold stab My own hand take from insulting fortune, This miserable object of her sport. Ask why I do not this, not why I weep! Kin. Or stint thy tears, or mingle mine with them, By a relation of their cause; these eyes, Trust me Artaxia, are not yet drawn dry, Nor hath strong sorrow e're exhausted them, To make them bankrupt of a friendly tear, 37 But not a fond one. Why Artaxia! Why dost thou hasten those that come too fast, Sorrow and age? The following is the passage in Sforza. 38 It will be observed that Forde's transcript is much inferior. 37 Here has been dropped the line, "Doe thou but prove it once a friendly tear," to the injury of the sense. 33 I have copied from the second edition (in Poems by FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 21 Gal. Why weeps my Deare? Isab. Aske why I do not weep: (Poor Isabella are thy teares deni'd thee?) Aske why thus long such a succession Of sorrow clogs my bosome, and does rob So much of Woman from me, as complaints. Aske why I doe not rave, teare my haire, thus, Create a grief, which Fate would spare me, then Cloud the sad Ayre with sighes, and at the last, With a bold stab take from insulting Fortune The miserable object of her sport: Aske why I do not this, not, why I weepe. Gal. Or stint thy teares, or mingle them with mine By a relation of their cause : these eyes, Trust me, my Isabella, are not dry, Nor has strong sorrow ere exhausted them, To make them banckrout of a friendly teare. Doe thou but prove it once a friendly tear And not a fond one. Why, my Isabella, Why dost thou hasten those that come too fast, Sorrow, and Age? In two careful readings of Sforza I have not been able to discover any further borrowing on the part of Forde. The passage quoted above is, I believe, the specific theft that Langbaine had in mind. Source — Greene's ' l Menaphon.' ' A manuscript note in the British Museum copy of Love's Labyrinth gives the real source of the play — Greene's Menaphon. Forde has reproduced Menaphon slavishly, not only in Robert Gomersall, London, 1633), of which the publisher says : "If ever it were worthy the reading, now the worth of it is multiplied, the whole being perused by the author." The first edition (1628) is not accessible to me. 22 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. plot, but also, to a large extent, in language. For the purpose of comparing the two, both in plot and in language, the reader is referred to Love's Labyrinth, pp. 39-41, and Menaphon, 39 pp. 47-8. For those, however, who do not have access to the play I submit an example of how Forde ingeniously turns the prose of Greene into blank verse. Love's Labyrinth, p. 21: When heavens frown, I think upon my faults, and a clear sky Puts me in mind of the gods gracious love. Envie o're-looketh me, nor do I gaze So high as tall ambition: and for love, I feed myself with fancies such as these: Venus (the Poets say) sprang from the sea, Which notes to me th' inconstancy of love, Changing each day with various ebbs and tides, Sometimes o're-flowing the banks of fortune With a gracious look from a lover's eyes, Ebbing at other times to th' dangerous shelf Of cold despair, from a Mistris frowns. Your Cupid must be young, to shew He is a boy; his wings inconstance tell; He's blind, to note his aim is without rule Or reason's guide. Such is the god ye serve. This is a mosaic of passages taken from Menaphon, p. 24. I group the passages in the order in which Forde has used them. 3 " 10 Here, and throughout this essay, I quote from Arbei's reprint of Menaphon (The English Scholar's Library, 1880). FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 23 When thou seest the heauens frowne thou thinkest on thy faults, and a cleere skie putteth thee in mind of grace. . . Enuie ouerlooketh thee. . .Thine eyes are vaylde with content that thou canst not gaze so high as ambition: andforloue. . . Venus was feigned by the Poets to spring of the froathe of the Seas; which draue him straight into a deepe coniecture of the inconstancie of Love, that, as if Luna were his load-starre, had everie minute ebbes and tides, sometime ouerflowing the banks of For- tune with a gracious look lightened from the eyes of a fauorable louer, otherwhiles ebbing to the dan- gerous shelfe of despaire, with the piercing frowne of a froward Mistresse. . . . Cupide must be yong and euer a boy to prooue that loue is fond and witlesse, wings to make him inconstant. . . blinde (or all were not worth a pinne) to prooue that Cupides leuell is both without aime and reason : thus is the God, and such are his Votaries. Verbal borrowing of this nature is common throughout the play. In plot Forde has departed in no important way from Greene's story, although he has omit- ted some details. He employs the same char- acters, and the same names, with one excep- tion — Olympia is changed to Euryphilia. Since this change in name is accompanied by a slight change in character, I suspect that Forde was here drawing from some other source. He has omitted two of the most effective and dra- matic incidents, the oracle, and the single com- bat between father and son. For the omission of the first I can suggest no reason; the second seems to have been suppressed along with other details at the end. 24 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. Analysis of the Plot. I give below an analysis of the plot by scenes and include in brackets the passages in Mena- phon which constitute the source. I. 1. Damocles, King of Arcadia, discovering that his daughter, Sephestia, has married se- cretly, and has given birth to a child, raves with anger. Two lords plead for her, and the king's brother, Lamedon, interposes in her behalf, but to no avail. The king orders Sephestia, her husband, and her child to be set adrift on the sea in an open boat without sail or oar. [These events precede the story in Menaphon, but are clearly enough suggested.] I. 2. Sephestia enters, and is informed by the- two lords of the king's sentence. Lamedon decides to accompany her. [Suggested in Men- aphon.] I. 3-4. The husband, Maximus, enters and is informed by Sephestia of the sentence. The king enters in a towering rage. Maximus re- veals his high birth as Prince of Cyprus, but the king is not appeased. A lord announces that the boats are ready, and the victims are taken out. [Suggested in Menaphon.] I. 5. The queen, lamenting the loss of her only child, Sephestia, stabs herself. [Men. p. 70.] A lord informs us that the land is infected with woes and miseries. [Men. p. 21.] The king, after offering to stab himself, orders a council to be summoned, [Men. p. 21.] FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 25 II. 1. The shepherd, Menaphon, inveighs against love [Men. p. 16, Sonetto], and sings a song on the theme [Men. p. 25]. A clown- ish shepherd, Doron, enters, and reproaches Menaphon for scorning the love of the shepherd- ess, Pensana. [Suggested in Menaphon.] II. 2. Maximus "enters shipwrecked/' la- ments the loss of Sephestia, and resolves to live as a shepherd under the name "Melecertus." [Suggested in Menaphon.] II. 3. Doron and Carmela engage in clown- ish love-making. [Men. pp. 85-88.] II. 4. To the love-sick Doron, Menaphon delivers an invective against love. [Men. pp. 24-6.] II. 5. Sephestia and Lamedon "enter ship- wrecked." Sephestia decides to disguise her- self as a shepherdess, and adopts the name "Samela." [Men. pp. 26-31.] II. 6. Menaphon enters to them, and in- vites them to his cottage. [Men. pp. 31-33.] II. 7. Doron and Carmela engage in clown- ish love-making. [Men. pp. 85-88.] II. 8. Menaphon, having fallen in love with Samela, repents his former invectives against love. Samela enters, and Menaphon praises the shepherd's life. [Men. pp. 33-5.] III. 1. Two pirates, Romanio and Eurilochus, present to Agenor, King of Thessaly, a young boy, Plusidippus (Sephestia's child), whom they 26 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. have found on the shore of Arcadia. [Men. pp. 57-61.] III. 2. Menaphon, burning with love for Samela, expresses himself in song. Doron over- hearing, laughs. Samela enters, and Mena- phon begins a courtship. [Men. pp. 37-40.] III. 3. Melecertus and Doron discuss the beauty of Samela, and Doron undertakes to describe her. [Men. pp. 40-43.] III. 4. King Damocles is repentant. [No direct source in Menaphon, but cf. p. 23.] III. 5. Melecertus and Samela meet each other at a festival of the shepherds. [Men. pp. 44-9.] III. 6. Melecertus soliloquizes on his love for Samela. [Men. p. 49.] III. 7. Pensana discusses her ill treatment at the hands of Menaphon. [Men. p. 50.] III. 8. Lamedon soliloquizes on the pleasures of a shepherd's life. [Suggested in Menaphon.] IV. 1. Agenor, King of Thessaly, urges his daughter, Euryphilia, to accept Plusidippus for a husband. [Men. p. 69.] IV. 2. Euryphilia offends Plusidippus, and he announces his intention to "seek the world through for a worthier mistress." [Men. 67- 70.] IV. 3. Menaphon is rejected by Samela, and turns her out of his cottage. [Men. 62-64.] IV. 4. Plusidippus declares that he cannot rest until he has seen the beautiful Arcadian FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 27 shepherdess, whose fame has spread over the world. [Men. pp. 67-70.] IV. 5. Samela informs her uncle of Mena- phon's harsh treatment. Lamedon purchases for her a cottage and a flock of sheep. [Men. p. 64.] IV. 6. Menaphon, while lamenting his un- happy love for Samela, is visited by the rejected Pensana. [Men. pp. 64-7.] IV. 7. King Agenor, of Thessaly, unable to keep Plusidippus from visiting Arcadia, gives him permission to go. Euryphilia presents him with a "favour." [Men. pp. 69-70.] IV. 8. King Damocles, having in his old age become wanton, steals away to Arcadia to view the beautiful shepherdess there. [Men. pp. 70-71.] IV. 9. Samela yields to the love of Melecer- tus. [Men. pp. 50-55.] V. 1. King Damocles, disguised as an old shepherd, and Plusidippus, as a wandering young knight, meet on the plains of Arcadia. Samela enters; Plusidippus makes love; she rejects him. [Men. pp. 71-72.] V. 2. Plusidippus captures Samela and turns her over to the supposed old shepherd for safe- keeping. Damocles, revealing to Samela his rank, makes suit for her hand. She recognizes him as her father and repels his love. [Men. pp. 72-73.] V. 3. Plusidippus, now havine: Samela in his 28 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. power, renews his suit, and again is rejected- [Men. p. 73.] V. 4. King Damocles sends secretly to court for soldiers. [Men. p. 83.] V. 5. Samela soliloquizes on her hard lot. [Men. p. 84.] V. 6. Doron and Carmela engage in clownish love-making. [Men. pp. 85-8.] V. 7. Menaphon betrays Melecertus into the hands of Damocles. [No source in Mena- phon.} V. 8. The scene shifts to the court. King Damocles has in his power Samela, Plusidippus, and Melecertus. Samela still refuses the King's offer of marriage. He draws his sword to kill Melecertus, whereupon Samela discloses her identity; Melecertus, in joy, reveals himself as Maximus; Plusidippus, discovering his birth, embraces his parents; the faithful uncle, Lame- don, returns; and all ends happily. [Men. pp. 89-92.] History of the Menaphon Story. Since no one, so far as I am aware, has under- taken to give a history of the Menaphon story, I shall attempt to point out briefly its sources, and its several versions up to the appearance of Love's Labyrinth. The story, I believe, may be traced back to The Lay of Havelok the Dane. According to FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 29 this poem, Athelwold, King of England, upon his deathbed leaves his only daughter, Gold- borough, to the guardianship of Earl Godrich with the instruction that he marry her to the tallest, fairest, and strongest man in England. Immediately the treacherous Earl begins to plot against his ward. In the course of time Havelok, heir to the Danish throne, though unaware of his high birth, secures employment in the Earl's kitchen. He is tall, fair, and noted through the country for his wonderful strength. The scheming Earl, pretending to follow her father's instruction, forces Goldborough to wed Havelok, for by thus marrying her to a base kitchen knave, he hopes to be permanently rid of her. In the end Havelok's identity is discovered, his throne is restored to him, Earl Godrich is burned at the stake, and Goldborough is proclaimed Queen of England. In the Anglo-French version of the story by Geffrei Gaimar, the king is called " Adelbricht" ; Goldborough is called "Argentile"; Earl God- rich is called "Edelsie"; and in another Anglo- French version, Le Lai d'Havelok, Havelok is given the surname "Cuaran." 40 These are the names employed by William Warner in his pretty and popular version of the story in Al- 40 It is beyond the scope of this paper to trace the sources of The Lay of Havelok, or to give the numerous later ver- sions of the story. 30 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. bion's England, book iv, ch. xx. 41 Not content with the narrative as he found it in Caxton's Chronicle, Warner moulded it to suit his fancy. With the license of the literary artist, he turned the bare facts of history into a pastoral romance of love, the most beautiful, perhaps, in his long poem. The following is a brief outline of the metamorphosed story: King Adelb right, upon his deathbed, in- trusted his only child, the princess Argentile, to the guardianship of her uncle, King Edel. At once King Edel began to plot against his niece, in order to secure the entire kingdom for himself. She grew up to be "the fairest lady under heaven," and the fame of her beauty spread far. Her scheming uncle, however, kept her mewed up from all suitors. Finally, "by chance one Curan, son unto a prince in Danske, did see the maid, with whom he fell in love as much as one might be." By disguising himself as a kitchen drudge he secured access to the princess, revealed his high birth, "and did his love bewray." King Edel, having discovered the infatuation of the kitchen knave, urged the suit upon Argentile, for by such an ignoble match he hoped to dispose effectively of his niece's claim to the throne. But Argentile, under- standing the plot of her uncle, fled secretly from the court and took up a secluded life among the 41 The names, as well as the incident, came down to War- ner through The Brule and Caxton's Chronicle. FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 31 shepherds. "When Curan heard of her escape, the anguish in his heart was more than much," and forgetful of his birth, his country, and his friends, he also fled to the fields and took up a solitary life among the shepherds. Here, by chance, Curan and Argentile met; but in their "shepherd weeds" they did not recognize each other. "Then began a second love, the worser of the twaene." And whilst his py-bald cur did sleep And sheep-hook lay him by On hollow quills of oten straw He piped melody. In urging his suit he praised the contented life of the shepherd, and he portrayed his mistress in a "descending description." The fair shep- herdess could not resist his second courtship. In the end the identity of the lovers was dis- covered, and they returned to court, where they lived "long reigning in renowne." Warner's story, I believe, was the source of Greene's pastoral romance, Menaphon. Al- bion's England appeared in 1586, Menaphon in 1589; in all probability, therefore, Greene was familiar with Warner's poem. Francis Meres, in his Palladis Tamia (1598), gives us some notion of Warner's great reputation among his contemporaries: "So the English tongue is mightily enriched and gorgeously invested in rare ornaments and resplendent abiliments by Sir Philip Sydney, Spencer, Daniel, Drayton Warner, Shakespeare, Marlow, and Chapman.'/ 32 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. A more apt quotation would be Thomas Nash's "To the Gentlemen Students of both Universi- ties," prefixed to Greene's Menaphon: "As Poetrie hath beene honoured in those her fore- named professours, so it hath not beene any whit disparaged by William Warners absolute Albions. And heere Authoritie hath made a full point." In Menaphon, of course, the story is modified and greatly elaborated; yet Greene seems to have needed for his novels little more than a suggestion of plot. It is interesting to note, too, that Menaphon in many particulars resembles Pandosto, a pas- toral romance published by Greene in the pre- ceding year. In elaborating Warner's story, Greene seems to have made free use of the mate- rial he had previously employed in Pandosto; for example, the birth of a child, the setting of the child adrift in a small boat, the rearing of the child in a foreign country, the marriage of the child to the heir of the throne, the oracle from Delphos, the incestuous love of the aged father for his daughter. In some minor features, too, the similarity is striking. Thus in Pandosto there is a festival of the shepherds, "whither Fawniawas also bidden as the mistress of the feast"; in Menaphon i2 there is, likewise, a fes- 42 For a discussion of the sources of Pandosto, see Englische Studien, vol. ii, p. 141, in which Caro traces certain features of the story to actual events in the history of Poland and Bohemia. FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 33 tival of shepherds, attended by Samela, "and for that she was a stranger, they graced her to make her the mistress of the Feast." In both novels the lovers meet as a result of this festival. The love of the father for the daughter, too, is handled alike in both stories. "Pandosto, contrary to his aged years, began to be some- what tickled with the beauty of Fawnia, in so much that he could take no rest, but cast in his old head a thousand new devices" : "He [Dem- ocles], although he were an olde colt, yet had not cast all his wanton teeth, which made him under the brute of beeing sicke of a grievous appoplexie, steale from his Court secretly in the disguise of a shepheard, to come and seek out Samela." It would be interesting to trace in full the parallelisms in the two novels. My pur- pose, however, is merely to show that Greene, in expanding the story told by Warner, made liberal use of the story told in Pandosto, and that the two stories together may be considered an adequate source for Menaphon. The next person to handle the theme was Wil- liam Webster, who in 1617 published The most pleasant and delightful Historie of Curan, a Prince of Danske, and the f ayre Princess Argentile, Daughter and Heyre to Adelbright, sometime King of Northumberland. Shewing His first Loue vnto her, his successlesse suits, and the low deiections he underwent for her sake. His second Loue to the same Lady unknowne, taking her for a poore Countrie Damsell. She (by reason of the vnkindnesse of 34 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. King Edell her vnkle and Gardian) hailing forsooke the Court, and vndertooke the profession of a Neatherdes Mayde. His constant loue (after her long continued unkindnes) rewarded with her wished consent, their happie Nuptials, and mutuall reioy- cings, his valour and victorious warre with King Edell. And lastly his peacefull installment in the Kingly Throne. Enterlacte with many pritty and pithie prayses of beauty, and other amorous dis- courses, pleasing, smooth and delightfull. 43 This is a poem in six-line stanzas, occupying thirty-two quarto leaves. I have not been able to examine a copy, 44 yet from the title I judge that it follows closely the story as told by War- ner. "It is much expanded," says Collier; 45 "the incidents are related in more detail, and the speeches of the persons given at greater length." In Thomas Evans's Old Ballads 46 is printed "A song of the strange lives of two young princes of England, who became shepherds on Salisbury plain, and were afterwards restored to their former estates." As Collier pointed out, 47 this long ballad of 192 lines is "an impu- " Hazlitt's Hand-Book, p. 647. 44 So far as I can discover, there is only one copy in exis- tence. The last reference lean find to it is in the catalogue of Heber's sale, 1836; his copy, which cost him £15 15s, sold for £4 10s. It is not in the British Museum, nor in the Bodleian Library. 45 Poetical Decamerone, i, 265. 46 Ballad no. 77. Evans was not aware of its source, nor does he suggest for it any date. 47 Poetical Decamerone, i, 265. FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 35 dent plagiary from Warner." The names are changed (thus Argentile becomes 'Maudlin/ and Curan, 'Raymund'), but the metre is the same, and the language, in general, is taken without change, or with little change, from Warner's poem. Besides altering the names, the writer of the ballad showed no originality. The next version of the story is found in The Thracian Wonder, a pastoral comedy based directly on Greene's Menaphon. Al- though not printed until 1661, it is a much older play, described on the title-page as having been " several times Acted with great Applause." Mr. Fleay tries to identify it with War Without Blows and Love Without Suit (1598); the evi- dence, however, is too slight for serious consid- eration. 48 The publisher, Francis Kirkman, attributed it, incorrectly, it seems, to John Webster and William Rowley. For a full discus- sion of the relation of the play to Menaphon the reader is referred to an article by the present writer, in Modern Philology, iii, 317-25. Finally, Thomas Forde dramatised the story in Love's Labyrinth. Relation to "The Thracian Wonder." Forde, I believe, knew nothing at all of The Thracian Wonder; certainly he borrows nothing 48 Biog. Chron. oftheEng. Drama, i, 287. 36 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. from it. At the time his Love's Labyrinth was issued from the press, The Thracian Wonder existed as a manuscript in the possession of Francis Kirkman, the bookseller, and was not printed until the following year. Nevertheless it is interesting to observe how the two dramatists, working independently, met the difficulty of starting the play from the bare suggestions thrown out by Greene. The more striking similarities in the introductory scenes — those scenes which precede the story as told in Menaphon — I have noted as follows : (1) the play opens with the raging of the king against his daughter; (2) two lords intercede in her behalf; (3) the king issues an order to set the guilty ones adrift in a boat; (4) Maxi- mus declares that the king shall not touch Sephestia; (5) Maximus reveals his high birth, yet this does not allay the king's wrath; (6) Maximus urges the king to punish him alone, and allow Sephestia to escape all harm; (7) Sephestia urges the king to punish her alone, and allow Maximus to escape all harm; (8) this serves only to increase the fury of the king, who immediately orders his sentence put into execution. A comparison of the two plays will reveal minor similarities, which, for lack of space, cannot be noted here. 49 49 The comparison with The Thracian Wonder suggests also a comparison with The Winter's Tale. So far as I can discover, however, Forde did not at any time have Shake- speare's play in iniDd. FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 37 Miscellaneous Notes. In my study of Love's Labyrinth I have jotted down occasionally textual and other notes. The reader may pass these by; I have included them in the hope that they may prove of ser- vice to any one who in the future may attempt to edit the play. Page [i]. The title, Love's Labyrinth, may have been suggested by the following passage in Menaphon (p. 74): "Democles plunged thus in a Laborinth of restless passions." L. 6. Philothal. Mr. Sidney Lee, in The Dictionary of National Biography, explains this as an abbreviation of "Philo-thalassios," a lover of the sea. There is no evidence, however, that Forde had ever seen the sea: indeed, in his Fcenestra in Pectore (p. 78) he tells us that he had never travelled, and expresses " wonder not at those that go to Sea once, but at those that go again." May not the abbreviation be for "Philo-Thalia," a lover of poetry? This finds some support in the Latin phrase quoted below the name: "Comica f estiva gaudet sermone Thalia." L. 7. The phrase Quid melius desidiosus agam? is taken from Martial, Epigrams, viii, 3, 12: Die mihi, quid melius desidiosus ages? 38 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. Page [iv], 1. 25. It seems impossible to iden- tify the "N. C." who signs the first commenda- tory poem. If the person appears in the Diet, of Nat. Biog., he must have been Nathaniel Crew (1633-1722), fifth son of John Crew, of Stene, a gentleman of some fortune. Nathaniel entered Oxford in 1652, proceeded B. A. in 1656, and was elected fellow of his college. In 1661 his father was made Baron Crewe of Stene, in recognition of services rendered the royalists. There is nothing, however, to connect Nathaniel Crew with the "N. C." of this commendatory poem, save his age, and his alliance with the royalists. In Fcenestra in Pectore, Forde ad- dressed a letter to "Mr. N. C." (p. 13). Page [v], 11. 31-2. This second commendatory poem contains the following reference to Ben Jonson : Proceed, then, Worthy Friend, and may thy Fame, Like Laureat Johnson, ever speak thy Name. L. 33. Edw. Barwick: For the identifica- tion of this person, see ante. Page 1, 1. 8: "Yet shot she not at rovers," etc. Cf. Fcenestra in Pectore, p. 45: "The rest, not concluding you aymed at them in particular, since you onely shot at Rovers in the general: " Page 3, 11. 33-34— page 4, 1. 1. Read as follows: Than do't. What heir shall [then] succeed your self In the Arcadian Diadem, if thus You drown the Sun of all our hopes, which must FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 39 Page 6, 1. 4. Read as follows: Thus are we taught the value of the light. Page 9, 1. 30. Read as follows : Can boast of: [for] 'tis thee alone I value, Page 10, 1. 1. Read as follows: Unto the fury of [the] winds and waves. Page 11, 11. 8-10. The following lines reflect the politics of Forde: Although he be a King, which sacred name I reverence, and as a mortal god Adore, he shall not dare to injure you. Cf. also page 13, 11. 5-8: the commands of kings are not To be gain-said, or broken; for the will Of heaven is obey'd in doing them. Page 12, 11. 28-29. Read as follows : No, as ye have joyn'd your selves in mirth, so will I joyn ye too in mourning; and because LI. 29-31. Cf. Fcenestra in Pectore, p. 49: "And because two make no musick, we engaged two or three other Consorts, to compleat our Harmony." Page 13, 11. 19-20: Whilest that we prove our selves loves Confessors. If not his Martyrs. — Cf. Fenestra in Pectore, p. 136: "They think they justly boast him a Confessor, if not a Martyr for that Cause." 40 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. Page 15, 11. 8-9. Read as follows: Ah cruel justice! Justice? No! Tyranny This is. Page 17, 11. 16-17. A pies on her: (1) a pun on the name "Pesana"; (2) an imprecation of unexplained origin. See N. E. D. under "pize." Page 20, 1. 33. Loth to depart is the name of the song referred to by Doron. Page 22, 11. 11-14. These lines are made up from "Menaphon's Song" (Menaphon, p. 26) by selecting the last two lines of each stanza. L. 18. For Scam. 8 read Scam. 5. L. 29. For drownd read drowned. Page 23, 1. 12. Read as follows: The cypress grove shall be [my] Joynter, where Joynter = jointer = jointure. Page 25, 11. 31-32. Cf. Fcenestra in Pectore, p. 53: "For though I have hitherto been an Atheist to female love." Page 26, 1. 2. Read as follows : Furrowfing] her cheeks with cruel strife. Page 27, 1. 19. For When I as read Whenas I? LI. 28-30. Forde introduces his translation of Anacreon's The Duel with the following words : As once of old Heserv'd the merry Greek Anacreon; Whose fancie fits my fortune: Here it is. FORDE'S LOVE'S LABYRINTH 41 Forde, doubtless, received the suggestion from Menaphon (p. 24): " Menaphon in this browne studie, calling to minde certaine Aph- orismes that Auarreon [sic] had pend downe." But Greene does not give more than the bare suggestion. Since Forde has included the poem in his Fragmenta Poetica, he may have had the translation already in hand, and have inserted it in the play at the suggestion of Greene. A collation of the poem with the version in Frag- menta Poetica (p. 16) shows the following variants : Line 10: With my shield and spear defie Line 16: Th' angry god returns agen, Line 24: Love! th' hast got the victory. Page 29, 11. 10-13: May I presume To crave your name, and to enquire how Hard-hearted fortune could be so unjust, To injure innocence? Signe she is blind. Read the last phrase, a signe she's blind? Page 32. Menaphon's soliloquy is thoroughly out of keeping with his character as conceived by Greene, and as portrayed elsewhere in this play. The soliloquy is introduced merely to 42 JOSEPH Q. ADAMS, JR. give occasion for the song. Perhaps Forde is here borrowing from some other writer. Page 33, 1. 9. In love, read A love? L. 30. For Carmela, read Samela. Page 34, 11. 19-21. The following lines are attractive: How now, Menaphonl I'm afraid thou wilt Be a beggar shortly, thou art a Poet already — One of the thred-bare crew, that ragged regiment! Page 36, 11. 19-20. Doron, the clownish shepherd, is made a mouthpiece for the fol- lowing pun : I had it out of an old book of My brother Moron's; they call 'm Rogue-mances, I think. This echoes not only the sound of the word, but the Puritan sentiment against romances: it does not, I believe, have any reference to the picaresque novel. Page 54, 11. 19-24. The song is from Mena- phon, p. 64. GEORGE MEREDITH IN AMERICA A Comment and a Bibliography BY ELMER JAMES BAILEY, PH.D. I. A COMMENT. As Carlyle, Browning, Tennyson, and Meredith successively died, the assertion was made of each that true appreciation of his work began in America. In the case of the first three, no resent- ment seems to have been aroused in England; certainly no counter-statement was forthcom- ing. It was otherwise with Meredith. The English reviews warmly resented the allegations of the American claimants, and insisted that there never was a time when English enthusiasm for the last Victorian novelist of importance was not far in excess of the admiration felt or expressed on this side of the Atlantic. To hold a brief for either party, or to act as judge in the suit might give some intellectual pleasure; but beyond that, would do nothing. Yet it may be wise to appeal directly to Caesar. Mere- dith, we have it recorded many times by as many different visitors to Boxhill, was always ready to give cordial greeting to American 44 ELMER J. BAILEY callers, never allowing one to depart without assuring him that he himself had received his chief encouragement from his readers and reviewers in the United States. There is interest in asking when this encourage- ment began and how rapid was its growth. In the first fifteen years of Meredith's literary career, beginning with the appearance of Chil- lianwallah in the issue of Chambers' Edinburgh Journal for July 7, 1844, and ending with the publication of The Ordeal of Richard Feverel in 1859, there was not, apparently, a single word referring to Meredith in any American periodical. Yet in England, William Michael Rossetti and Charles Kingsley favorably re- viewed the Poems of 1851 ; George Eliot wrote at length in The Leader, of The Shaving of Shagpat, and somewhat more briefly, in The Westminster Review, of both that book and its successor Farina; finally the conservative Lon- don Times printed almost three columns of comment upon Meredith's first novel. In the face of these facts we cannot very strongly uphold the contention that Meredith gained his first recognition in this country. Indeed, until late in 1860 he was probably unknown to American readers. Between February 11, 1860 and October 13 of the same year, the English Once a Week published as its leading piece of fiction Mere- dith's second novel under the title Evan Har- MEREDITH IN AMERICA 45 rington; or He would be a Gentleman. Early in the following year Messrs. Bradbury, Evans, and Company brought out the work in three volumes with a number of changes in readings and without the sub-title. This, however, was not the first edition of the novel; that ap- peared in this country from the press of Messrs. Harper and Brothers, late in 1860. By what arrangement with the author, the American firm published the book, it seems impossible now to learn. This, at least, is certain: save that forty illustrations by Charles Keene were not reproduced, the edition published in New York is an exact reprint of the story as it appeared in serial form — errors, sub- title, and all. How the book sold we have no means of discovering. Apparently it had but one review, the following lines in Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume xxii, January, 1861: "Evan Harrington; or He would be a Gentleman (published by Harper and Brothers) is a spirited novel, illustrative of the distinction of rank in English society, and remarkable for the vivacity of its narrative and the dramatic raciness of its dialogue." Satisfactory or unsatisfactory as this venture may have been, neither Messrs. Harper and Brothers nor any other American publishers undertook to reprint anything of Meredith's until 1877. In that year the short tale The House on the Beach was republished from the January number of The New Quarterly Review K'. ELMER J. BAILEY as No. 22 of Harper's Half -Hour Series. Two years later, that is in 1879, the same American firm included The Egoist as No. 90 in their Franklin Square Library, as they also did Diana of the Crossways in 1885 as No. 462. Meanwhile George Munro had published The House on the Beach in 1878, The Tragic Come- dians in 1881, and an abbreviated edition of Diana of the Crossways in 1885 as issues of The Seaside Library. In 1885 Meredith was fifty- seven years old, and had been writing for thirty- six years; yet, aside from the seven unauthorized reprints thus far mentioned, none of his work had issued from American presses; and regard- ing his power the American reviewers were silent. On the ground, however, that publishers are not likely to print what is not in noticeable demand, we may infer that Meredith was mak- ing no inconsiderable audience in this country. To meet the desires of American readers, there- fore, Messrs. Roberts Brothers of Boston en- tered into arrangements with Messrs. Chapman and Hall of London by which the former firm became the distributers of Meredith's works in America. They can hardly be regarded as pub- lishers, for the books were both printed and bound in England, those for the American trade having upon the title pages the name of the American agents and bearing at the base of the back cover the letters R. B. in place of MEREDITH IN AMERICA 47 Chapman and Hall. The publication in this uniform edition of the ten volumes of prose written by Meredith before the end of 1885, was not completed until 1887. Two years later a so-called "New Edition" began to appear. It was printed, however, from the plates of the previous issue, differing from it, therefore, only in that a new binding was used and that in 1891 an eleventh volume, One of Our Conquerors, was added. This reprint was the blue and gold edition long popular in England; but the supply intended for American trade was sent to this country in sheets and was bound up here in brown cloth stamped upon the side with a por- trait of Meredith in gold and his autograph in black. Meanwhile Messrs. Ward, Lock, and Com- pany had in 1892 published The Tragic Come- dians with a special introductory note by Clement Shorter on Ferdinand Lassalle. This was also imported in sheets by Roberts Brothers, and was bound up here to match the second uni- form edition of Meredith's prose work. In the matter of Meredith's poetry, the four volumes entitled Ballads and Poems of Tragic Life, A Reading of Earth, The Empty Purse, and Modern Love were respectively issued by Roberts Brothers in 1887, 1888, 1892, and 1893. It is interesting to know that the same collections of verse were also published in the same years by Messrs. Macmillan and 48 ELMER J. BAILEY Company as from London and New York; and that the apparent anomaly existed of two firms in one country issuing the same books. The Boston firm, however, printed its own edition; the New York firm imported its copies from England. When the firm of Roberts Brothers dissolved in 1895, Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons took over all the Meredith items carried by the former publishers and thenceforward became the authorized publishers and distributers of Mere- dith's writings in America. In 1898 they pub- lished in sixteen volumes the Boxhill Edition, the first to be printed in this country; and in 1906 using the same plates, they issued a pocket edition of Meredith's prose and poetry. For a brief time between these two dates, the firm carried a pocket edition printed and bound for themin England by Messrs. Archibald Constable and Company, although the title pages bore the names of the American agents. Until Meredith's death in 1909, therefore, but two editions of his collected work had actually been printed in America, although five purporting to have been published here had been upon the market. Early in 1910 a Memorial Edi- tion began to appear. This was rendered possi- ble by arrangement with the novelist's son, Mr. William Manxe Meredith, who is super- intending a simultaneous issue of his father's work in London. In contents the corresponding MEREDITH IN AMERICA 49 volumes of the English and American editions are identical ; in pagination they differ consider- ably. The fact that six editions of an author who never catered to popularity, could be called for in twenty-five years shows that his writings must be in demand. But there are other proofs that Meredith's audience was increasing. Pirated editions of Rhoda Fleming, of The Egoist, and of Diana of the Crossways appeared; a strange trio indeed, and all the stranger since in issuing the novel last named, the publishers with calm indifference presented the American public with but twenty-six of the forty-three chapters which Meredith wrote. Further, one novel, One of Our Conquerors, was in 1890 pub- lished as a serial simultaneously in this country, in England, and in Australia; another, The Amazing Marriage, was first printed as the lead- ing novel of Scribner's Magazine for 1895. And, still further, from 1885 the year when Roberts Brothers undertook to present George Meredith to American readers, reviews have been many and just. Not a magazine of repute but has given much space to a consideration of Meredith's art, mission, and power. Find fault as they may, the American critics have sooner or later united with Mrs. Humphry Ward in exclaiming, "The Master of us all, George Meredith!" This is no place to take even a cursory view 50 ELMER J. BAILEY of the opinions of Meredith's American critics. The purpose of such a paper as this is best subserved, no doubt, by enumerating the arti- cles from the pen of such critics, and indicating where they may be found. In the following bibliography, the compiler has included noth- ing which has not been actually printed in this country, and he has been forced, for obvious reasons, to omit mention of many contributions to daily newspapers and weekly magazines. II. A BIBLIOGRAPHY. A. SINGLE PUBLICATIONS. 1860. Evan Harrington or He would be a Gentleman. New York, Harper and Brothers. 12mo, pp. 492. 1877. The House on the Beach, A Realistic Tale. New York, Harper and Brothers. 32mo, pp. 140. Half-Hour Series. 1878. The House on the Beach. New York, George Munro. 4to, pp. 13. Seaside Library, No. 221. 1879. The Egoist; A Comedy in Narrative. New York, Harper and Brothers. 4to, pp. 101. Franklin Square Li- brary, No. 90. 1881. The Tragic Comedians; A Study in an Old Story. New York, George Munro. 4to, pp. 30. Seaside Library, No. 939. 1885. Diana of the Crossways; a Novel. New York, Har- per and Brothers. 4to, pp. 76. Franklin Square Library, No. 468.— Diana of the Crossways; A Novel. New York, George Munro. 4to, pp. 29. Seaside Library, No. 1944.— Also 16mo, pp. 106. Seaside Library, Pocket Edition, No. 350. 1887. Ballads and Poems of Tragic Life. Boston, Roberts Brothers. 16mo. 1888. A Reading of Earth. Boston, Roberts Brothers. 16mo.— Rhoda Fleming; A Story. New York, George MEREDITH IN AMERICA 51 Munro. 16mo. pp. 362. Seaside Library, Pocket Edition, No. 1146. 2 pts. — The Egoist; A Comedy in Narrative. New York, George Munro. 16mo, pp. 458. Seaside Library, Pocket Edition, No. 1150. 2 pts. 1890. The Case of General Ople and Lady Camper. New- York, John W. Lovell Company. 16mo, pp. 126. West- minster Series, No. 3. — The Tale of Chloe; An Episode in the History of Beau Beamish. New York, John W. Lovell Company. 16mo, pp. 144. Westminster Series, No. 6. 1891. The Case of General Ople and Lady Camper. New York, George Munro (U. S. Book Co). 16mo, pp. 126. Seaside Library, Pocket Edition, No. 1695.— The Tale of Chloe; An Episode in the History of Beau Beamish. New York, George Munro (U. S. Book Co.). 16mo, pp. 144. Seaside Library, Pocket Edition, No. 1807. — Diana of the Crossways. Chicago, and New York, Rand, McNally and Company. 12mo. Globe Library. — Modern Love, with analytic study by Mrs. E. Cavazza. Portland, Maine, Thomas B. Mosher. 12mo, and also large 8vo, pp. xiv, 50. English Reprint Series. 1892. Modern Love, The Sage Enamoured and The Honest Lady. Boston, Roberts Brothers. 16mo. 1894. Lord Ormont and his Aminta. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 16mo, pp. 442. 1895. The Amazing Marriage. New York, Charles Scrib- ner's Sons. 16 mo, 2 vols., pp. 316, 330. 1897. Select Poems. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 16mo. — An Essay on Comedy and the Uses of the Comic Spirit. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 18mo. 1898. Modern Love and Other Poems. Portland, Maine, Thomas B. Mosher. 8vo, pp. v, 140. Old World Series — Odes in Contribution to the Song of French History. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 8vo, pp. 94. 1899. Whether We Live or We Die, from The Shaving of Shagpat with a translation into German by Kate Freiligrath Kroeker, set to music by Frances Allitsen. New York, G. Schirmer. 4to, pp. 5. — The Tale of Chloe: an Episode in the History of Beau Beamish. Portland, Maine, Thomas B. Mosher. 8vo, pp. 115. Old World Series. 1901. A Reading of Life. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 12mo, pp. 128. ELMER J. BAILEY 190G. The Ordeal of Richard Feverel. New York, The Century Company. 8vo, pp. x, 507. English Comedie Hu- mainc. 2d Series. 1907. An Idyll of First Love. Portland, Maine, Thomas B. Mosher. 32mo. Ideal Series of Little Masterpieces (chap- ters xv and xx of The Ordeal of Richard Feverel). 1909. Modern Love, with an introduction by Richard Le Gallienne. New York, Michael Kennerley. 4to, pp. 9, 1. — Love in the Valley and Two Songs, Chicago. P. F. Seymoure. 12mo. — George Meredith's " Chillianwallah." Jamaica, New York, The Marion Press. 4to, pp. 28. — Last Poems. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 12mo. 1910. Celt and Saxon. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 12mo. B. COLLECTED EDITIONS. 1898. Boxhill Edition. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 8vo. April 30. The Ordeal of Richard Feverel. Diana of the Crossways. May 21. Sandra Belloni. Vittoria. June 25. Rhoda Fleming. The Egoist. September 3. The Adventures of Harry Richmond. Beau- champ's Career. October 8. Evan Harrington. Short Stories. October 29. The Shaving of Shagpat. The Tragic Come- dians. November 19. One of Our Conquerors. Lord Ormont and his Aminta. The Amazing Marriage. Poems. 1906. New Pocket Edition. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 16mo. May 12. Diana of the Crossways. The Ordeal of Richard Feverel. Sandra Belloni. Vittoria. June 23. Beauchamp' s Career. The Egoist. The Adven- tures of Harry Richmond. Rhoda Fleming. September 8. Evan Harrington. One of Our Conquerors. The Shaving of Shagpat. The Tragic Comedians. October 6. The Amazing Marriage. Poems. Short Stories. Lord Ormont and his Aminta. MEREDITH IN AMERICA 53 1910. Memorial Edition. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 8vo. January, Vol. I. The Shaving of Shagpat. Vol. II. The Ordeal of Richard Feverel. February, Vol. III. Sandra Belloni, I. Vol. IV. Sandra Belloni, II. March, Vol. V. Rhoda Fleming. Vol. VI. Evan Harrington. May, Vol. VII. Vittoria, I. Vol. VIII. Vittoria, II. Vol. IX. The Adventures of Harry Richmond, I. Vol. X. The Adventures of Harry Richmond, II. June, Vol. XI. Beauchamp' s Career, I. Vol. XII. Beau- champ's Career, II. Vol. XIII. The Egoist, I. Vol. XIV. The Egoist, II. September, Vol. XV. The Tragic Comedians. Vol. XVI. Diana of the Crossways. Vol. XVII. One of Our Conquer- ors. Vol. XVIII. Lord Ormont and His Aminta. C. CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS. 1889. Poems, (eight selections and a few quotations). The Magazine of Poetry (Buffalo, N.Y.), 1: 347-357, July-Sept. 1891. "The House on the Beach," "The Case of General Ople and Lady Camper," and "The Tale of Chloe," The New York Sun. "One of Our Conquerors," The New York Sun, Oct. to May, 1891. 1895. "The Amazing Marriage," Scribner's Magazine, Vols. 17 and 18, Jan. to Dec. 1896. "An Idyll of First Love," The Bibelot (Portland, Me.), Vol. 2, Feb. (Chapters xv and xx of The Ordeal of Rich- ard Feverel and The Meeting, a poem.) — "Mrs. Meynell's 'Rhythm of Life' and 'Color of Life,' a review by George Meredith." Littell's Living Age, 210: 101-12, Sept. 19. 1897. "The World's Advance." Littell's Living Age, 215: 626, Jan. 22. 1898. "Marian." Littell's Living Age, 216: 218, Jan. 22. — "A Ballad of Past Meridian." Littell's Living Age, 216: 282, Jan. 29.— "Earth's Secret." Littell's Living Age, 217: 218, Apr. 23.— "Forest History." Literature, 3: 11-12, July9. 1899. "Lucifer in Starlight." Littell's Living Age, 221 : 228, Apr. 22.— "The Night Walk." The Century Magazine, 54 ELMER J. BAILEY 58 (N. S. 36): 566, Aug.— "Autumn Evensong" and "For Heaven Alone." Frank Leslie's Popular Monthly, Oct. 1900. "Song in the Songless." Littell's Living Age, 222: 683, Sept. 14.— "A Garden Idyll." Scribner's Magazine, 27: 214-215, Feb. —"To the Poor Man's Cardinal." Littell's Living Age, 223: 655, Dec. 9. 1901. "A Reading of Life." The Critic, 38: 213-218, March.— "The Hueless Love." The Bookman, 13: 238, May. — "Union in Disseverance." The Book-Buyer, 22: 387, June. — "The Burden of Strength." Littell's Living Age, 229: 550, June 1. 1902. "Lucifer in Starlight." Littell's Living Age, 232: 640, March 8.— "At the Close." Littell's Living Age, 234: 693, Sept. 13. 1905. "The Crisis." The Literary Digest, 30: 601, April 22. Littell's Living Age, 245: 251-252, April 22.— "October 21." Littell's Living Age, 247: 422-423, Nov. 18. 1907. "For the Centenary of Garibaldi." Littell's Living Age, 254 : 254-255, July 27. The Literary Digest, 35 : 173, Aug. 3.— "The Wild Rose." Scribner's Magazine, 42: 668, Dec. 1908. "The Question Whither" and " Love in a Valley" (2 stanzas). The Book News Monthly (Philadelphia, Penn.), 26: 503-504, March.— "The Call." Littell's Living Age, 258: 578, Sept. 5. Collier's Weekly, June.— "On Como." Scribner's Magazine, 4A: 682, Dec. The Literary Digest, 37: 856, Dec. 5. "Milton." The Literary Digest, 37: 989, Dec. 26. 1909. "Ireland." Scribner's Magazine, 46: 2-3, July — "Four Poems." The House Beautiful (Chicago, 111.), 26: 72, Aug.— "The Years Had Worn their Season's Belt." Scribner's Magazine, 46: 407-8, Oct. Current Literature, 47: 573, Nov. — "Internal Harmony." The Musician, 14: 492, Nov. 1910. "Celt and Saxon." The Forum, vol. 43, Jan.-Aug. —"Ireland." Current Literature, 48: 221, Feb. D. SELECTIONS FROM THE "WORKS OF MEREDITH. 188S. The Pilgrim's Scrip or Wit and Wisdom of George Meredith. Boston. Roberts Brothers. 12mo, pp. 1, 258. MEREDITH IN AMERICA 55 1903. The Pilgrim's Scrip, by Sir Austin Absworthy Bearne Feverel, collected from The Ordeal of Richard Feverel. New York. Scott-Thaw Co. 12ruo, pp. 20. E. BOOKS CONTAINING CRITICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL MATTER. 1888. The Pilgrim's Scrip, compiled by Mrs. M. F. R. Gilman. Boston, Roberts Brothers. 12mo. Introductory study by the compiler, pp. i-1. 1890. Views and Reviews — Literature, by W. E. Henley. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 16mo. "George Meredith," pp. 43-55. 1891. Modern Love. Portland, Maine, T. B. Mosher. 12mo, also 4to. Introductory study by E. Cavazza, pp. i-xiv. 1894. Overheard in Arcady, by Droch [Robert Bridges]. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 12mo. "George Meredith," pp. 81-93; also pp. 117-152. 1895. Four Years of Novel Reading, edited by Richard G. Moulton. Boston, D. C. Heath and Co. 12mo. "The Characterof ClaraMiddleton," by Joseph Fairney, pp. 59-74. — Suppressed Chapters, by Droch [Robert Bridges]. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 12mo. Pp. 36-39; 55-57; 148-153. 1899. Reminiscences, by Justin McCarthy. New York, Harper and Brothers. 2 vols., 8vo. "George Meredith," vol. i., pp. 325-336. — The Development of the English Novel, by Wilbur L. Cross. New York, The Macmillan Company. 12mo. "George Meredith," pp. 252-262. 1902. Victorian Prose Masters, byW. C.Brownell. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 8vo. "George Meredith," pp. 233-289. 1904. Browning and Meredith, by Mary Winchester Abbot. Boston, Richard G. Badger. 12mo, pp. 55. 1905. The Makers of English Fiction, by W. J. Dawson. New York, Fleming H. Revell. 8vo. "George Meredith," pp. 191-212. 1906. The Confessions of a Young Man, by George Moore. New York, Brentano's. 12mo, pp. 144-148. 1907. Shelburne Essays, Second Series, by Paul Elmer More. New York, G. P. Putnam's Sons. 12mo. "The 56 ELMER J. BAILEY Novels of George Meredith," pp. 145-172.— The Novels of George Meredith, A Study, by Elmer James Bailey. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 12mo, pp. 226. 1909. Masters of the English Novel, by Richard Burton. New York, Henry Holt and Co. 12mo. "Hardy and Mere- dith," Chapter XII, pp. 262-298.— Modern Love. New York, Michael Kennerley. 4to. Introductory study by Richard Le Gallienne, pp. 1-9. 1910. Studies in Wives, by M. Belloc Lowndes. New York, Michael Kennerley. 12mo. "According to Mere- dith," pp. 151-204. — Neither' Dorking nor the Abbey, by J. M. Barrie. Chicago, Browne's Book Store. 12mo. F. PERIODICAL ARTICLES CONCERNING MEREDITH AND HIS WORKS. 1876. "Beauchamp's Career by George Meredith." The Canadian Monthly (Toronto), 9: 341-343,- April. 1880. "The New Fiction," by Henry Holbeach. Apple- ton's Journal, 23 : 345f . 1883. "Mr. George Meredith's Poems and Lyrics." The Literary World, 14: 454, Dec. 15. 1885. London Letter," by H. B.. The Critic, 9: 77, 78, Aug. 14. 1887. "George Meredith," by Flora M. Shaw. The New Princeton Review, 3: 220-229, March. — "The Novels of George Meredith." The Literary World, 18: 137-138, April 30. — "A Word with George Meredith." The Atlantic Monthly, 59:854-855, June. — "George Meredith," by George B. Baker, Jr. The Harvard Monthly, 4: 138f., July-September. — The Shaving of Shagpat : review. The Literary World, 18 : 285, Sept. 3— "Mr. George Meredith's Novels." The Critic, U(n. s. 8) : 205, 206, Oct. 22. 1888. "George Meredith's Poems," by George Parsons Lathrop. The Atlantic Monthly, 61 :178-193, Feb.— "London as a Literary Centre," by R. R. Bowker. Harper's New Monthly Magazine, 77: 3-26, June.— "Three Volumes of Verse." The Critic, 13 (n. s. 10) : 242, Nov. 17. "An Interview with George Meredith," by W. M. F. (William Morton Ful- lerton). The Boston Advertiser, Dec. 17. MEREDITH IN AMERICA 57 1889. "The Homelife of George Meredith." The Book- Buyer, pp. 580-2, Jan.— "Mr. George Meredith's Novels," by J. M. Barrie. The Eclectic Magazine, 49 (n. s.): 118-126. "George Meredith's Novels." The Critic, 14 (n. s. 11): 267,268, June 1— " George Meredith as a Theorist, "by Tomp- kins McLaughlin. The New Englander and Yale Review (New Haven, Conn.), 51 (n. s. 15) : 81-95, Aug. 1891. "A Visit to George Meredith," by J. B. Gilman. The Author, 3: 49, April. 1892. "A Study of Mr. George Meredith," by J. A. New- ton Robinson. The Eclectic Magazine, 55(n. s.): 124-129. — "Mr. Meredith in his Poems," by Edward Dowden. The Eclectic Magazine, 55 (n. s.) : 650-660, May. 1894. "George Meredith's Novels," by Emily Wheeler. The Chautauquan, 19:561-565, Aug. 1895. "George Meredith's Maiden Speech," by Robert- son Nicoll. The Bookman, 2: 34-36, Aug. — "A Summer with George Meredith: In Particular Richard Feverel," by Edith L. Menefee. Poet Lore, 7: 505-512, Oct. — "The Victory of Aphasia Gibberish," by Max Beerbohm. The Chap Book (Chicago), 6: no. 3, Dec. 15. 1896. The Amazing Marriage: reviews. Public Opinion, 20: 56, Jan. 9. The Bookman, 2: 522, 523, Feb. "Recent Novels," by William M. Payne. The Dial, 20: 77, Feb. 1. 1897. "Living Masters: George Meredith and Hall Caine," by D. C. Murray. The Canadian Monthly, 8: 411- 413, March. — An Essay on Comedy and the Uses of the Comic Spirit : reviews. The Book-Buyer, 14 : 199, March. The Liter- ary World, 28: 130, April 17. The Dial, 22: 255, April 16. The Critic, 27: 301, May 1. The Nation, 64: 384, May 20. The Bookman, 5: 433-434, July. — "The Novels of George Meredith." Public Opinion, 23: 180-181, Aug. 5. — "The Poetry of George Meredith," Littell's Living Age, 214: 224- 244, Sept. 4. — Selected Poems : reviews. The Critic, 28 : 217, Oct. 16. Literature, 1: 69, Nov. 6. The Nation, 65: 459, Dec. 9. The Literary World, 28:456, Dec. 11. The Book- man, 6: 345, Dec. — "The Novels of George Meredith." Littell's Living Age, 215: 504-520, Nov. 20. 1898. "British Verse: George Meredith and Watts- Dunton." PoetLore, 10: 123-127, Jan. — "Aphorisms of Mere" 58 ELMER J. BAILEY dith." Current Literature, 23: 10, Jan. — "Imitators of Mere- dith." Literature, 2 : 161-163, Feb. 12.— " Note on Mr. George Meredith," by A. Syraons. Current Literature, 23: 203-205, March. — "Notes et Reflexions apropos des ceuvres en Prose de George Meredith," by H. D. Davray. Literature, 2:415, 416, April 9.— "The Works of Meredith." The Outlook, 59: 183, May 21. — "Meredith's Attitude towards his own Work." The Book Buyer, 17: 17, Aug.— "The Novels of George Meredith," by Paul Elmer More. The Atlantic Monthly, 84: 484-485, Oct. — "The Novels of George Mere- dith." The Literary Digest, 19: 491-492, Oct. 21. 1899. "Po6sie de George Meredith," by H. D. Davray. Literature, 4: 268, 269, March 31. — "George Meredith." The Bookman, 9: 146-147, April. — "George Meredith: Novelist and Poet," by James Walter Young and William Norman Guthrie. The Sewanee Review (Sewanee, Tenn.),7: 129 f., April. — "A Note on Meredith." Literature, 4: 580, June 30. —"The Style of George Meredith," by W. R. Nicoll. The Bookman, 10: 147 f., Oct. 1900. "George Meredith on the Source of Destiny," by Emily G. Hooker. Poet Lore, 12: 238-252, April- June. — "Description of George Meredith." The Critic, 37: 390, Nov. 1901. "The Obscurity of Mr. Meredith's Poem." Pub- lic Opinion, 30: 404, March 28. — "The Work of George Meredith." Current Literature, 30: 755-756, June. — A Read- ing of Life: reviews. The Nation, 73: 152, Aug. 22. The Critic, 39: 283, Sept. (W. M. Payne)— The Dial, 31: 238, Oct. — "The Historic Place of Mr. Meredith and Mr. Hardy," by Edmund Gosse. The International Monthly (Burlington, Vt.), 4:299-323, Sept. 1902. "The Conception of Nature in the Poems of George Meredith," by F. Melian Stawell. The International Jour- nal of Ethics, 12: 316-334, April. — "A Meredith Footnote." The Atlantic Monthly, 89: 866-868, June. — "A Knightly Pen," by Harriet Waters Preston. The Atlantic Monthly, 90: 506-514, Oct. — "Meredith on his own Novels." Public Opinion, 25: 181, Aug. 11. — "The Novels of George Mere- dith," by Cornelia Atwood Pratt. The Critic, 33 (n. s. 30): 156-159 Sept.— "The Works of George Meredith." MEREDITH IN AMERICA 59 Literature, 3: 423, Nov. — Odes in Contribution to the Song of French History: reviews. Literature, 3: 485-486, Nov. 26. The Independent, 50: 1938, Dec. 29. The Critic, 34: 88, Jan., 1896. (W. M. Payne) The Dial, 26:55, Jan. 16, 1899. 1903. "Mr. Meredith Interviewed." The Critic, 42: 306, April. — " Dianaof the Crossways and Lady Rose's Daughter," by G. L. Beer. The Critic, 42: 534-535, June. — "Meredith's Place as a Novelist." Harper's New Monthly Magazine, 107: 809, 810, Oct. 1904. "George Meredith on Sir Leslie Stephen." The Lamp, 28: 323, May. — "Literary Portraits: I. George Mere- dith," by Haldane MacFall. The Canadian Magazine, 23: 35-38, May. — "The Poetry and Philosophy of George Mere- dith," by G. M. Trevelyan. Littell's Living Age, 242: 536- 548, Aug. 27. — Also in The Eclectic Magazine, 143 : 503. "An Interview with Mr. Meredith." The Critic, 45: 195-196, Sept. — "George Meredith on the Marriage Tie". The Liter- ary Digest, 29: 534, Oct. 22. 1905. "A Parallel" (Diana of the Crossways and George Sand). Scribner's Magazine, 37: 250-251, Feb. — "TheEarly Novels of George Meredith," by Elizabeth Luther Cary. The Critic, 46: 339-346, April. — "The Penalty of Meredith's Style." The Literary Digest, 30: 891, June 17. — "The Land- scape Background in George Meredith's Writings," by Eliz- abeth Luther Cary. The Critic, 46: 52-57, July.— "The Reli- gious Ideas of Meredith." The Literary Digest, 31: 214-215, Aug. 12. — "The Optimism of Browning and Meredith," by A. C. Pigou. Littell's Living Age, 246 : 415 f., Aug. 12. — "The Tonic of George Meredith's Poetry," by Annie Rus- sellMarble. The Dial, 39: 104-106, Sept. 1. — "George Mere- dith's Heroines," by Elizabeth Luther Cary. The Critic, 47:338-343, Oct. 1906. "Some Thoughts Underlying George Meredith's Poems," by M. Sturge Henderson. The International Jour- nal of Ethics, 16: 340-352, April. — "According to Meredith," by M. Lowndes. LitteW s Living Age, 250: 268-285, Aug. 4. — G. M. Trevelyan's Poetry and Philosophy of Meredith: re- views. The Nation, 83: 249-250, Sept. 30. — Littell's Living Age, 250:636-638, Sept. 8. — "George Meredith," by Richard LeGallienne. The North American Review, 183:544-547, Sept. 60 ELMER J. BAILEY —"According to Meredith." The Dial, 41 : 193-195, Oct. 1. — "The Dramatic Novel," by J. B. Henneman. The Reader (Indianapolis, Ind.), 8: 680-683, Nov. — "Meredith: the Last of His Peers," by H. W. Nevinson. The World To-Day (Chicago, 111.), 11: 1287-1290, Dec. — "Meredith as a Poet of Love." Current Literature, 41: 641-643, Dec. 1907. "George Meredith," by Henry Copley Greene. The Atlantic Monthly, 99: 771-784, June.— "A Half-Forgot- ten Romance: The Tragic Comedians," by J. G. Huneker. The Bookman, 26: 148-154, Oct. — "The Novels of George Meredith," by Pelham Edgar. Littell's Living Age, 255: 95-110, Oct. 12.— "Treatment of Marriage in Meredith's Novels." Current Literature, 43: 518-519, Nov.— "The Poetry of George Meredith," by Pelham Edgar. Littell's Living Age, 255: 744-751, Dec. 21.— "Maurice Hewlett : Mere- dithian," by Edward C. Marsh. The Bookman, 26: 361-362, Dec. 1908. "Will the Novels of George Meredith Endure?" Current Literature, 44: 50 f., Jan. — "Meredith and his Exposi- tors," by Edward Clark Marsh. The Forum, 39: 381-386, Jan. -March.— "George Meredith at Eighty," by G. W. Harris. The Reviews of Reviews, 37 : 183-189, Feb.— " George Meredith and the World's Advance," by G. W. Harris. The Independent, 69: 359-364, Feb. 13.— "George Meredith." The Nation, 86: 163, Feb. 20— "George Meredith." The Outlook, 88: 384, Feb. 22.— "Literary Impersonality." The Nation, 86: 186-188, Feb. 27.— "The Dean of English Novel- ists," by Duncan Campbell Scott. Munsey's Magazine, 38: 798-780, March— "Two Studies of George Meredith," byEunice Follansbee. The Dial, 44 : 129-130, March. — "Mere- dith as Poet." The Literary Digest, 36: 341-342, March 7.— "England and Meredith," by George M. Trevelyan. Littell's Living Age, 256: 632-634, March 7.— "George Meredith Num- ber." The Book News Monthly, 26, March. Contains : (1) "George Meredith," by W. F. Stead; (2) "Symposium," by Barrie, Lang, MacFall, Nevinson, and Trevelyan; (3) "A Visit to George Meredith," by Charles F. Goss; (4) "Mere- dith and his Later Critics," by Albert S. Henry. Pp. 493-507. -"To George Meredith" (poem), by E. S. Tylee. Littell's Living Age, 257: 2, April 4.— "George Meredith," by Archi- MEREDITH IN AMERICA 61 bald Henderson. The North American Review, 188: 347-359, Sept.— "A Note on Mr. Meredith's Modern Love," by Elmer James Bailey. The Forum, 40: 245-254, Sept. 1909. "The Novels of George Meredith," by Benjamin O. Flower. The Arena, 41: 385-390, March- June.— "A Survey of Meredith's Novels." Littell's Uving Age, 260: 698-703, March 13.— "Meredith as Poet." Littell's Living Age, 260: 781-786, March 27.— "George Meredith." The Nation, 88: 506 and 512, May 20.— "George Meredith." The Independent, 66: 1149-1150, May 27.— "George Meredith." The Outlook, 92 : 265-267, May 29— "Meredith's Failure to Win England." The Literary Digest, 38: 929, 930, May 29.— "George Mere- dith." Harper's Weekly, 53: 1 and 7, May 29.— "A Personal Visit to George Meredith," by Galbraith Welch. The Fo- rum, 81 : 521-527, June.— " George Meredith." The Dial, 46 : 353-355, June 1.—" George Meredith," by Stuart P. Sherman. The Nation, 88: 554-557, June 3.— "A Great Writer of Fic- tion." Littell's Living Age, 261: 700-703, June 12.— "Or- phaned by Meredith." The Literary Digest, 38: 1066-1067, June 19. — "George Meredith: Novelist." Harper's Weekly, 53 : 6, June 19.— " George Meredith," by May Sinclair. The Outlook, 92: 413-418, June 19.— "The Novels of George Mere- dith." Littell's Living Age, 261: 805-807, June 26.— "In Memoriam" (poem). Littell's Living Age, 261: 818, 819, June 26.— "George Meredith," by E. J. Putnam. Putnam's Magazine, 6: 446-455, July. — "George Meredith, the Great Psychologist of English Fiction." Current Literature, 47: 49-54, July. — "Meredith and his Message." The Review of Reviews, 40: 112, 113, July.— "Swinburne and Meredith." The Chautauquan, 55: 160-162, July.— "George Meredith: A Review," by Edward C. Marsh. The Bookman, .19: 511- 518, July.— "Two Personal Glimpses of Meredith," by Chalmers Roberts. The World's Work, 18: 11804-11807, July.— "G. M. 1828-1907" (poem), by Thomas Hardy. Littell's Living Age, 262: 66, July 10.— "George Meredith, the Poet." Harper's Weekly, 23: 6, July 10.— "Meredithian Obscurity." The Bookman, 29: 660-661, July 31.— "Mere- dith's Dicta." The Literary Digest, 39: 172-173, Aug.— "According to Meredith," by M. Belloc Lowndes. McClure's Magazine, 34: 444-454, Aug.— " George Meredith," 62 ELMER. J. BAILEY by Annie Kimball Tuell. The Atlantic Monthly, 104: 213-218, Aug.— "The Poetry of George Meredith," by J. Bailey. Littell's Living Age, 262: 323-333, Aug. 7.— "The Moral Phi- losophy of Meredith," by G. K. Chesterton. Littell's Liv- ing Age, 2G2: 423-427, Aug. 14.— "After the Passing Bell," by L. W. Smith. The Independent, 67: 474, Aug. 26.— "Mere- dith and His Contemporary Critics." — The Bookman, 30: 10- 15, Sept. — "George Meredith: Teacher." Harper's Weekly, 53: 6, Sept. 11.— "Meredith" (poem), by Cale Young Rice. The Century,!?, (n. s. 56): 777, Sept.— "Meredith as a Pub- lisher's Reader," by B. W. Matz. Littell's Living Age, 262: 732-744, Sept. 18.— "Personal Recollections of Meredith," by Frederick Jones Bliss. The Century, 78 (n. s. 56) : 928-31, Oct. — "Burning Convictions of Meredith." Current Litera- ture, 47: 413-415, Oct.— "Meredith in Broken Doses," by Archibald Henderson. The Forum, 42:387-390, Oct.— "George Meredith," by Archibald Henderson. The Twentieth Cen- tury Magazine, 1: 99, Nov. — "Men I have Loved," by Mrs. Leslie Carter. The Scrap Book, p. 780, Nov.— "Meredith as a Critic, ' ' by William Dean Howells. Harper's New Monthly Magazine, 120: 149-151, Dec— "Mr. Howells Rebukes Mere- dith." The Literary Digest, 39: 1067-1068, Dec. 11.— "Last Poems of George Meredith." The Independent, 67: 1511-1512, Dec. 30. 1910. "Meredith's Art." Littell's Living Age, 264: 515- 526, Feb. 26.— "A Snap-shot of Meredith," by Walter L. Leighton. The Twentieth Century Magazine, 1: 528-531, March.— "Notes for Bibliophiles." The Nation, 90: 207- 208, March 3.— "Meredith: a Lover of Flowers." The Out- look, 94: 711-719.— "George Meredith's Poetry," by Richard Le Gallienne. The Forum, 43: 441-447, April. O. PORTRAITS OF GEORGE MEREDITH. 1 . Photograph of George Meredith at the age of 35. Memorial Edition of Meredith, New York, Charles Scrib- ner's Sons. 1910. Vol. 7: Frontispiece. 2. Painting by M. Stein, photographed by Frederick Hollyer. The Pilgrim's Script. Boston, Roberts Brothers. 1888. Frontispiece. Harper's New Monthly Magazine, 77: MEREDITH IN AMERICA 63 15, June, 1888. The Magazine of Poetry (Buffalo, N. Y.), 1: 346, July, 1889. The Critic, 25 (n. s. 22): 159, Sept. 8, 1894. Munsey's Magazine, 38: 798, March, 1908. The Book News Monthly, 26 : plate, May, 1908. 3. Photograph by Roller. The Critic 26 (n. s. 23) : 279, April 13, 1895. Selected Poems of George Meredith, New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 1897. Frontispiece. The Bookman, 2: 471, 1896. The Bookman's Literary Year Book, New York, Dodd, Mead and Co. 1899. Frontispiece. The Literary Digest, 19: 491, Oct. 21, 1899. The Novels of George Meredith: A Study, by E. J. Bailey, New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 1907. The Book News Monthly, 26: 495, March, 1908. The Review of Reviews, 40: 122, July, 1909. 4. Photograph by Thompson. The Independent, 64: 361, Feb. 13, 1908; also p. 1038, May 7, 1908. The Literary Digest, 36: 341, March 7, 1908; also 38: 929, May 29, 1909. Harper's Weekly, 53 : 3, May 29, 1909. Reproduced in Etch- ing by Jules Reich upon a plate 8x10. New York. 5. Etching by Mnepes. The Critic, 45: 194, Sept., 1904. 6. Painting by George Frederick Watts. The Critic, 43: 497, Dec, 1903. The Canadian Magazine, 23: 37, May, 1904. The Review of Reviews, 37: 184, Feb., 1908. The Book News Monthly, 26: 494, March, 1908. The Review of Reviews, 37:184, Feb., 1908. 7. Portrait Painted for J. M. Barrie by Amy Draper Sumner. Scribner's Magazine, 46: frontispiece, July, 1909. 8. Photograph by Alvin Langdon Coburn, taken in Octo- ber, 1904. The Century Magazine, 70 (n. s. 48): 4, May, 1905. The Independent, 68: 264, Feb. 3, 1910. Memorial Edition of Meredith, vol. I, New York, Charles Scribner's Sons. 1910. 9. Various portraits. The Book Buyer, 5: 196, 1888; also 5: 581, 1888; also 12: 120, 1895. The Bookman, 2: 471, Feb., 1896; also 19: 548, Aug., 1904; also vol. 30, Sept., 1909. — The World To-Day, 9 : 888, Aug., 1905. The World's Work, 18: 11736, July, 1909. Putnam's Magazine, 6: 455, July, 1909. 10. "Snap Shots": "Mr. George Meredith Telling a Story to Mr. and Mrs. Clement Shorter." The Critic, 37: 390, Nov., 1900. "Mr. George Meredith in Conversation 64 ELMER J. BAILEY with Sarah Grand." The Literary Digest, 29: 535, Oct. 22, 1904; also 38: 930, May 30, 1909; also detail showing Mere- dith alone, 30: 891, June 17, 1905. "Mr. Meredith in His Donkey-Cart." The Literary Digest, 38: 931, May 30, 1909. ADDENDUM. 1902. "The Chorus is the Novels of George Meredith," by Lucy E. Fay. The University of Texas Record (Austin, Texas), 4: no. 3, July. AN ELEMENTARY COURSE IN OLD ENGLISH BY ALMA BLOUNT, PH.D. It is a common saying among educators that no person has a right to think he understands the English language — much less has a right to try to teach it — if he has not studied gram- matical relations in the unmistakable forms of some well-inflected tongue. The principle is sound; yet it is, perhaps, not exclusive enough as a principle governing the selec- tion of teachers of English grammar, and not inclusive enough as a principle govern- ing their training. Successful students of Latin and German are puzzled by the diffi- culties that confront them in teaching English grammar, and are often unable to answer reason- able questions propounded by the pupils. What could the best of Latin students say in answer to this question, which was lately asked in a class in English grammar : " Why do we use the indic- ative plural for the subjective singular in 'If I were you'?" Peculiar difficulties arise in the study of Eng- lish grammar because our language, once so 66 ALMA BLOUNT well inflected, is now almost without grammati- cal forms. Grammatical relations of words, therefore, that once would have been made quite clear by inflectional endings, are now obscured, and we must turn for help to the language of the earlier period. Professor Francis A. March has said: "Almost all our grammatical forms are Anglo-Saxon. The difficulties of our lan- guage, whether in spelling, or the irregular formation of modes and tenses, or of plurals and genders, or in the peculiar combinations of syntax, are almost all to be referred to Anglo- Saxon, and most of them are easily understood; they are now difficult because they are relics of habits and forms which have passed away." The student of the earlier forms will move with confidence in many places where others will step with hesitation and reluctance. It follows, then, that teachers of English grammar should be acquainted not simply with the forms and constructions of some inflected language, but with those of the early period of the lan- guage they profess to teach. To study thoroughly the history of the Eng- lish language is the task of a life-time. It means making some acquaintance with all of the im- portant Indo-European tongues, especially with those of the Germanic group; it means the study of the relation of these languages to one another, and of the changes they have undergone. This thorough study can be made only by persons A COURSE IN OLD ENGLISH 67 who supplement their college course by gradu- ate study, and can be expected of but few. A far less extensive, yet a very helpful, course may be followed by many persons, and should be required of all those preparing to teach Eng- lish grammar in the high school — possibly even of those expecting to teach it in the seventh and eighth grades of the grammar school. The object of this paper is to show what may be accomplished in this direction by telling what is done in one elementary Old English course. The Department of English in the Michigan State Normal College offers an elective course in Old English. This course lasts through one quarter (twelve weeks, four hours weekly), and is of necessity as elementary as possible. The class numbers from fifteen to forty students yearly. Some of them have had courses in Latin or German, or in both; others come to this work without any previous training in linguistic study. For these last the first week or two, or even three, of the quarter are often somewhat perplexing and discouraging, but by the end of a month or six weeks all are work- ing intelligently and enthusiastically. Out of the two hundred or more who have pursued the course in the last eight years, not half a dozen have failed to obtain the credit, and very few have done unsatisfactory work. The text-book for this course should provide a simple explanation of Old English grammar 68 ALMA BLOUNT and plenty of selections of easy prose for prac- tice in reading. The class referred to uses Cook's First Book in Old English. The teacher helps in the tiresome labor of memorizing the paradigms by placing them on the board before assigning them for a lesson, and calling attention to points of similarity between the Old English inflections on the one hand, and those of Modern German and Modern English on the other. By means of many devices the drudgery of memorizing is reduced to a mini- mum, while the necessary forms are, neverthe- less, thoroughly committed to memory. The teacher also endeavors to distinguish carefully between the essential and the non-essential in assigning the paradigms. It is not necessary that an elementary student should know all the confusing exceptions and peculiarities. It is better that he should learn well the regular paradigms, and pick up the variations later as he comes across them in reading. It will prob- ably never be necessary for these elementary students to notice most of the exceptional forms. During this form-learning stage of the study the class reads, analyzes, and carefully observes the inflections in the first selection in the text, 'The Creation" from Aelfric's Genesis. The results of this not very inspiring work become apparent in about three weeks, the stu- dents being able by that time to begin reading the very entertaining romance of "Apollonius A COURSE IN OLD ENGLISH 69 of Tyre." From this time on the interest of the class steadily increases. In two or three weeks more they are reading ordinary West- Saxon prose at sight, with a little help on the new words and peculiar forms. The "Apollonius" is read before the selections in the text immedi- ately following "The Creation/' because the story furnishes an incentive to good translation and rapid reading. After the "Apollonius" the class returns to the selections from Aelfric, from the translation of Bede, and from Wulfstan; and the seventy-five pages of prose in the text are easily finished in the term of twelve weeks. As has been said, the first month of the course is devoted entirely to making the acquaintance of the Old English language. After the students begin to read with some ease and no longer need the whole class time for drill on forms, a portion of each class hour is given to the "practical" work of the term — the historical explanation of English inflections. This work is based on such material as is found in the histories of the Eng- lish Language by Emerson, Lounsbury, Champ- neys, and others. Here, again, it is necessary for the teacher to adapt and limit the work some- what, and to remember that she is teaching a normal, not a university class. The interest shown by the students in historical grammar is most gratifying. They are always alert and eager to discover as much as possible at first hand. It is practical for them to trace out 70 ALMA BLOUNT many forms for themselves. After a careful study of the list of changes English inflections have suffered, the students may place on the board the Old English paradigms and mark the various "weakenings" and losses, until the modern forms are reached. At the end of the term, the students should be (and usually are) able to speak intelligently on the following subjects: 1. The origin of our modern noun inflection — s-plurals, and s-genitives; why this s is pro- nounced sometimes s, sometimes z, and why we have sometimes the syllable ez ; the voicing of / in wolves, etc., and other phonetic peculiari- ties; the origin of the plurals feet, men, teeth, mice, geese, lice; children, brethren, Peine; sheep, deer, swine; two-horse, five-year, ten-pound, twelve-month, fortnight, sennight, etc. 2. The origin of the comparative -er and of the superlative -est. Explanation of elder, eldest, beside older, oldest. "Irregular " compari- sons — good, etc. The superlatives in -m-ost, and -er-m-ost. 3. The origin of our modern numerals and articles. 4. The sources of our adverbs; and their inflection. 5. The origin of our modern pronoun declen- sions; personal, demonstrative, interrogative, indefinite, relative. 6. The derivation from Old English of our A COURSE IN OLD ENGLISH 71 Modern verb conjugation — origin of -s (-z, -ez), -eth, -est, -ing; the principal parts of our strong verbs; the use of -ed {-d, -t) to form the past stem and past participle of weak verbs; the parts of weak verbs with phonetic peculiarities (feel, feed, sell, think, etc.) ; the two infinitives; the forms of be traced from Old English; the forms of our defective verbs traced back to Old English; verb-phrases, with examples from Old English, showing infinitives after may, can, etc., and inflected participles after have and be. In the proper connections, such expressions, as "they be," "hissehy etc., are mentioned and explained. 7. The historical explanation of some modern constructions, of which the following are a few examples : a. Like and near followed by the dative. b. Ask followed by two accusatives. c. Some "adverbial nouns," showing their case- endings. d. The genitive added to a noun ("on board ship"). e. The adverb the from the instrumental. f. The dative, or indirect object. g. The infinitive with the subject accusative. Old English sentences containing these and other constructions sometimes incorrectly expounded in modern grammars are given to the class, who explain the modern syntax by comparing it with 72 ALMA BLOUNT the old inflected form. For the historical devel- opment of a number of idiomatic phrases the students are referred to the New English Dic- tionary and other scholarly works with which every teacher of English grammar should be familiar. In educational matters, as well as in other affairs of life, "the proof of the pudding is in the eating." Fine theories are all very well, but they are worth nothing unless they are practical. It is fair, then, to ask whether the students in their own teaching make any use of their Old English training. The testimony of the students must decide whether the twelve weeks have been well spent. Their testimony is derived from two sources: first, from the memory of their former limitations; and, sec- ondly, from their experience after making this elementary study of historical grammar. 1. Many students in a normal college are men and women of some years' experience in teaching in the public schools. They are fre- quently persons of excellent ability, who real- ize somewhat the limitations of their knowledge and know exactly where to apply pedagogically the learning they acquire from day to day. These persons recognize at once the practical value of the course. It is not unusual for one of them to linger after the class hour to say, 'The children have asked me a hundred times why foot has the plural feet, and I never knew A COURSE IN OLD ENGLISH 73 before how to explain it"; "I shan't have to say 'I don't know' the next time a child asks me why there is no preposition before the indirect object and the adverbial noun." The best and most mature students know immediately how they can use the Old English course in their grade and high school teaching. 2. From not a few students the teacher of the Old English course has received word after they have left the Normal College. One young woman, who went into a seventh-eighth grade English-history departmental position, wrote, "I used my Old English text as much as any reference work in preparing for my grammar classes." Another (not " stupid," but somewhat distracted by various social obligations), after two months of teaching, sent a small souvenir, " Just to remind you of a stupid girl, who never- theless finds what Old English she did learn a great benefit in her grammar work." Another asserted that the simple historical material she introduced into her high school grammar course was of the greatest interest to the chil- dren, many of whom remained after the class period to ask for more complete explanations. Similar testimony has come from a great num- ber of students. These most gratifying results prove that the course has passed the experimental stage. It is both possible and desirable to teach the ele- ments of Old English and historical English 74 ALMA BLOUNT grammar to students of the normal grade. A similar course should be offered in all of our normal schools, perhaps in some of our best high schools and academies. A little learning is better than none at all, and not a very dan- gerous thing if one understands perfectly well that he has only a little. How infinitely much less complaint we should hear about the dead- ness of the teaching of language, about the mechanical dullness of the class in grammar, if the instructors were properly prepared for their work ; if they had such an insight into linguistic principles as this course, limited though it is, would give to them! Their own interest would be stimulated by better preparation ; and on the intelligent enthusiasm of the teacher depends his power to inspire interest in the pupils. It is practical also to ask what preparation the teacher needs who shall undertake to give this elementary course in Old English. It goes without saying that he needs considerably more than elementary training if he is to teach the elements successfully. An interested class is full of proper curiosity to know more, and this curiosity expresses itself in questions. If the teacher is to keep up the interest, he cannot too often answer "I don't know"; and when he must say, "I don't know," he should usually be able to add, "but I'll find out." It is most desirable that the teacher of elementary Old English should have some acquaintance with A COURSE IN OLD ENGLISH 75 the Gothic language, with Germanic and Com- parative Philology, and with the principles of phonetics. If he stimulates properly the minds of the students, he will have to answer many such questions as: — "What is umlaut?" "Is there any explanation for the vowel change in weak verbs like secean, sohte?" "Is ablaut found in other languages?" Besides being properly prepared with the information necessary to satisfy such questions, the teacher should have the tact and judgment to answer them simply and clearly, using few technical terms, and re- membering that he is explaining to an elemen- tary, not a university class. If it be asked where teachers may be obtained for these courses, it may be answered that the demand will create the supply. We have plenty of material in our great universities — profes- sors, students, courses, books — and the opening of positions would call men and women to pre- pare themselves to instruct in this interesting field. On the other hand, those who at present appreciate the value of historical grammar must work to show the world of teachers its need, and thus create the demand. May I add as a corollary a word of personal experience as to the use of historical material in an ordinary grammar class? I have, at first with fear and trembling, made historical expla- nations when they seemed to me the only cor- rect ones to make, I have been surprised and 76 ALMA BLOUNT gratified at the avidity with which the good students pick up these morsels of historical grammar that fall in their way. In answer to the question mentioned above — " Why do we use the indicative plural for the subjunctive sing- ular?" — I put on the board wees, wxron, ivsere, ivceren, and explained the significance of the forms and the loss of the endings. The student, who knew no more of Old English than he did of Chinese, was perfectly able to comprehend the explanation. In a class of normal or high- school grade many similar explanations may profitably be made. Regarding the introduc- tion of such material into the elementary gram- mar classes below the high school, several of my advanced students have expressed them- selves as holding opinions much more radical than I should dare profess. One young woman, who had already been for several years a suc- cessful teacher in the grades, writing a lesson on the indirect object for a class which could not be expected to understand the term dative, insisted on mentioning the fact that there was once an ending on the noun and a form of the pronoun that expressed the relation to, for, and made a preposition unnecessary. In her opin- ion the teacher would add greatly to the inter- est of her lessons if she would introduce into them many such facts and explanations not usually found in text-books for those grades, and perhaps better introduced by the teacher than by the text. A COURSE IN OLD ENGLISH 77 In thus urging the more thorough and vital study of English as a language, I do not intend to imply that such study can or should supplant the school work in literature and composition. A habit of intelligent reading and the ability to express one's thought in words are two of the most important gifts education can bring to any person. But grammar, ideally taught, should aid in the scholarly study of both litera- ture and composition. It should make the stu- dent more accurate in interpretation and more exact in sentence construction. Moreover, grammar is one of the standard studies of the grammar school, and of the normal school, and often of the high school. It is very fre- quently ill-taught, usually because the teachers are ill-prepared, and are therefore obliged to be dogmatic and mechanical. Why should we not insist upon improvement in the teaching of the third branch of the English trilogy, as well as in that of the other two? \ THE POWER OF THE EYE IN COLERIDGE BY LANE COOPER Every one will recall what a distinctive mark of the chief personage in The Rime of the Ancient Mariner is his 'glittering eye'; and it will not be forgotten that in a stanza contributed by Wordsworth to the opening of the ballad by his friend, the Mariner is represented as exercising through the gleam of his eye a notable power of hypnotic fascination: He holds him with his glittering eye — The Wedding-Guest stood still, And listens like a three years' child: The Mariner hath his will. 1 1 A. M. 13-16. Throughout this paper italics are used in order to draw attention to certain catchwords or stock phrases in the poet's vocabulary, e.g., bright, bright-eyed, glitter, glittering, fixed, stood still, etc. And the following abbreviations are employed: A. M. ( = The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, in the final text of 1829 as reprinted by Campbell); A. M., 1 ed. ( = the original text of the same poem in Lyrical Ballads, 1798, as reprinted by Campbell) ; P. W. (= the Poetical Works of Coleridge, edited by Camp- bell); and P. B. ( = Wordsworth's Peter Bell). THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 79 That is, the Mariner has his own way with the Wedding-Guest, as the Sun, later on in the poem, has his way with the ship : The sails at noon left off their tune, And the ship stood still also. The Sun, right up above the mast, Had fixed her to the ocean. 2 At first reading, one might suppose the mean- ing to be that the Mariner had control of the Wedding-Guest's will — which of course is true. But it is not precisely what is said, as may be gathered from a stanza, subsequently omitted, in the original version of the ballad : Listen, O listen, thou Wedding-guest! 'Marinere! thou hast thy will: For that which comes out of thine eye doth make My body and soul to be still.' 3 The Wordsworthian lines commencing, 'He holds him with his glittering eye,' and the general Coleridgean notion in them, are sufficiently familiar, as is also the gloss which accompanies them: 'The Wedding-Guest is spell-bound by the eye of the old seafaring man, and constrained to hear his tale.' 4 However, it is not probable that among stu- dents of Coleridge the frequency with which 2 A. M. 381-4. 3 A.M., led., 362-5. 4 Marginal gloss to A. M. 13-16. 80 LANE COOPER the idea of an ocular hypnosis or the like arises in the mind of the poet has been duly observed, so that his full meaning in several otherwise well-known passages may easily escape the general reader. Accordingly, I propose to col- lect a number of extracts from Coleridge in which this notion is altogether patent; to add to these certain other extracts in which it may be only suggested, or is concealed, proceeding in such a way that the less may receive light from the more obvious; and to supply still further material, some of it drawn from remoter sources, that can be made to bear upon the particular subject of this study. Our study, therefore, will involve an examination of passages from Lewti, The Three Graves, Kubla Khan, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner in the first as well as the final and accepted version, Christabel, The Nightin- gale, Osorio, etc.; it will include some descrip- tion of Coleridge's appearance — for example, the look of his eye — and some account of his interest in animal magnetism and ocular fascina- tion; it will touch upon the widespread interest during the earlier part of Coleridge's life in Friedrich Anton Mesmer and his cult of mag- netizers; and, among other things, it will allude to certain differences, casual as well as intended, between Coleridge and Wordsworth in their treatment of what is called the 'supernatural'. It hardly needs to be said that the present writer, being neither an adept in the secrets of animal THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 81 magnetism, nor versed in the immense literature on this and related topics, does not concern himself with any question as to the reality of the hypnotic influences issuing, or thought to issue, from the human eye, but only with Coleridge's opinion as to their reality or like- lihood. For the history of the subject the reader may consult the standard work by Binet and Fer£, 5 Charles Mackay's Memoirs of Extraordi- nary Popular Delusions, 6 or, if they are accessi- ble, some of the older treatises of which Cole- ridge himself makes mention — among them, and especially, that by Kluge. 7 I have not been able to obtain this. As for Coleridge himself, it may be assumed that he was conscious of a power that seemed to dwell in his own eye. Thus in the Hexameters addressed to William and Dorothy Words- worth, and written, as their author says, 'dur- ing a temporary blindness in the year 1799', he exclaims : O! what a life is the eye I what a fine and inscrutable essence l 8 6 Animal Magnetism, New York, Appleton, 1890. See also the historical sketch at the beginning of Albert Moll's Hyp- notism, New York, 1890. 8 London, Routledge, 1869 (volume 1, pp. 262-295, The Mag- netizers). 7 Carl Alexander Kluge, Versuch einer Darstellung des Animalischen Magnetismus, Berlin, 1815 (first edition, 1811). The work was widely translated. 8 P. W., p. 138. 82 LANE COOPER And even in ordinary conversation he must have experienced, to an unusual degree, the sense of control over his audience which in the born orator we often attribute to his direct, or, as we call it, 'piercing' glance. In fact, Carlyle bears testimony to something of the sort in Coleridge, when the latter was an elderly and broken man, long after the halcyon days when The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Christabel were taking shape. Says Carlyle: ' I have heard Coleridge talk, with eager musi- cal energy, two stricken hours, his face radiant and moist, and communicate no meaning what- soever to any individual of his hearers — certain of whom, I for one, still kept eagerly listening in hope.' 9 The Sage of Highgate evidently needed to lay no hand upon that chosen guest whom he would detain from the pleasures of the world at his feast of reason and flow of soul. In his prime he was not less magnetic. 'From Carlyon we learn that Coleridge dressed badly, "but I have heard him say, fixing his prominent eyes upon himself (as he was wont to do when- ever there was a mirror in the room), with a singularly coxcombical expression of counte- nance, that his dress was sure to be lost sight of the moment he began to talk, an assertion which, whatever may be thought of its modesty, was not without truth." ' 10 • Carlyle, Life of John Sterling: Works (1904) 11.56. 10 Campbell, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, p. 99. \ THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 83 That there was something unusual, if not captivating, in his look may be inferred, if only from the strange and conflicting reports (brought together by Dr. Haney)as to the actual color of his eyes. They were, of course, large and gray, as his most intimate friends specific- ally affirm. Wordsworth calls him A noticeable man, with large gray eyes. 11 And Dorothy Wordsworth, writing to a friend a year or so before the composition of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, says of Coleridge: 'His eye is large and full, not dark but gray; such an eye as would receive from a heavy soul the dullest expression, but it speaks every emotion of his animated mind. It has more of "the poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling" than I ever witnessed. He has fine dark eyebrows, and an overhanging forehead.' 12 Several other references to Coleridge's eyes may be given summarily. Carlyle: 'The deep eyes, of a light hazel, were as full of sorrow as of inspira- tion.' Carlyle (on another occasion) : 'A pair of strange, brown, timid, yet earnest looking eyes.' Emerson : ' Bright blue eyes, and fine clear com- plexion.' Armstrong: 'The quick, yet steady 11 Stanzas Written in my Pocket-copy of Thomson's 'Castle of Indolence' 39. 12 Letters of the Wordsioorth Family, ed. Knight, 1.109. For other references to Coleridge's appearance I am indebted to the interesting article by Dr. John Louis Haney, The Color of Coleridge' s Eyes, Anglia 23.424 ff. 84 LANE COOPER and penetrating greenish-gray eye.' Winter (an imaginary portrait): 'The great, luminous, changeful blue eyes.' Leapidge Smith: 'Eyes not merely dark, but black, and keenly pene- trating.' De Quincey (who, like the following, was a more trustworthy observer than some of the foregoing) : 'His eyes were large, and in color were gray.' Hazlitt: 'Large, projecting eye- brows, and his eyes rolling beneath them like a sea with darkened lustre.' Henry Nelson Coleridge: 'His large gray eyes, at once the clearest and the deepest that I ever saw.' Harriet Martineau : 'His eyes were as wonderful as they were represented to be— light gray, ex- tremely prominent, and actually "glittering." Much of the discrepancy in these reports may be set down to haste and carelessness in observa- tion—Emerson, for example, is not always trustworthy on minor details; but, as we may gather from Dorothy Wordsworth, Coleridge's eyes, even before he began to take opium, might, under varying stress of emotion, go through a considerable range of appearance. As often happens with emotional subjects, his pupils were likely to suffer a striking dila- tation, followed by intense contraction, the latter state having the effect which we know as a 'glitter'. At all events it doubtless is right to believe that in a measure the ' glittering eye' of the Ancient Mariner is the counterpart of an effect sometimes visible in the poet; and, if THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 85 there be such a thing as the hypnotic glance, there is nothing unreasonable in imagining that Coleridge possessed it. In any case, if the existence of such a thing were affirmed, Coleridge was bound to be inter- ested, as in any of those mysterious phenomena which he termed 'facts of mind'. Thus in a compendious description of himself which he sent to Thelwall in 1796, he remarks: 'Meta- physics and poetry and "facts of mind", that is, accounts of all the strange phantasms that ever possessed "your philosophy" . . .are my darling studies.' 13 Though any systematic account of the studies in animal magnetism entered into by so discursive and unmethodical a reader as Coleridge is scarcely possible, there is some ground for supposing that in his earlier years he was more prone to believe in a 'fact of mind', such as ocular hypnosis, than he was in later life. His allusions to cures by suggestion among the American Indians, as recorded in Hearne's Hudson's Bay, and to similar occur- rences among the negroes of whom he read in Bryan Edwards' West Indies, 14 and indeed the use to which he puts his information on these matters in Osorio and the poems designed for Lyrical Ballads, all point to a less critical attitude 18 Letter of Nov. 19, 1796. Letters of Samuel Taylor Cole- ridge, ed. E. H. Coleridge, 1.181. 14 P. W., p. 590. Cf. Hearne, pp. 193 ff., 218 ff ; Edwards, Book 4, Chap. 3. 86 LANE COOPER in the young Coleridge than we find in the Cole- ridge of Table Talk and Highgate. At Highgate he has become the cautious philosopher. It is therefore characteristic of him to say, under Table Talk for April 30, 1830: 'My mind is in a state of philosophical doubt as to animal magnet- ism. Von Spix, the eminent naturalist, makes no doubt of the matter, and talks coolly of giving doses of it.' Yet he goes on : ' The torpedo affects a third or external object, by an exertion of its own will ; such a power is not properly electric- al; for electricity acts invariably under the same circumstances.' And he adds: 'A steady gaze will make many persons of fair complexions blush deeply. Account for that.' 15 However, he had already given as it were his final utterance on this head some years before 1830. Between 1820, when Southey's Life of Wesley appeared, and August, 1825, when Cole- ridge wrote the words in which he bequeathed his personally annotated copy of this work to its author, he had composed a long marginal memorandum on the similarity of the religious trances among the Wesleyan Methodists to the trances induced by the magnetizers. On the credibility of the phenomena said to occur during the magnetic trances, he observes : 'Among the magnetizers and attesters are to be found names of men ... of integrity and incapability of intentional false- 16 Coleridge, Works, ed. Shedd, 6.302. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 87 hood . . . Cuvier, Hufeland, Blumenbach, Eschenmeyer, Reil, etc. . . . Nine years has the subject of zoomagnetism been before me. I have traced it historically, collected a mass of documents in French, German, Italian, and the Latinists of the sixteenth century, have never neglected an opportunity of question- ing eye-witnesses, e. g., Tieck, Treviranus, De Prati, Meyer, and others of literary or medical celebrity, and I remain where I was, and where the first perusal of Klug's work had left me, with- out having moved an inch backward or forward. The reply of Treviranus, the famous botanist, to me, when he was in London, is worth record- ing: . . . "I have seen what I am cer- tain I would not have believed on your telling and, in all reason, I can neither expect nor wish that you should believe on mine." ' 16 If the perusal of C. A. Kluge's ( = 'Klug's') work left him in an enduring state of 'philo- sophical doubt', to track Coleridge through the labyrinth of his subsequent futile investiga- tions would not seem to be urgently demanded ; and we may merely observe that he owned a copy of this treatise in the edition of 1815. 17 If he read this edition in the year of its issue, the 'nine years' of persistent study would bring the date of his marginal note in Southey's volume down to 1824. But even if he had seen 18 Coleridge, Works, ed. Shedd, 6.303. 17 See Haney's Bibliography of Coleridqe, under 'Margin- alia' (p. 119, No. 180). 88 LANE COOPER Kluge in the edition of 1811, how are we to ex- plain the long gap in his interest between 1797- 98, when he had read Hearne and Edwards, and was writing The Three Graves and The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, and 1811, or later, when he began his alleged comprehensive researches? 18 It may, indeed, be the case that the date of his marginal note is the same as that of the bequest to Southey, 1825, and that his preoccupation with annual magnetism began just nine years earlier than this, namely, 1816, when he put himself under the medical care, and was re- ceived under the roof, of James Gillman at Highgate. In the library of a well-to-do physi- cian, who was also a man of no slight intellectual curiosity, the poet would at that time be almost certain to find a number of books dealing with the subject. 19 However this may be, it is clear, 18 See, however, Mackay, Extraordinary Popular Delu- sions 1.291: 'During the first twelve years of the [nine- teenth] century little was heard of animal magnetism in any country of Europe. Even the Germans forgot their airy fancies , recalled to the knowledge of this every-day world by the roar of Napoleon's cannon and the fall or the estab- lishment of kingdoms. During this period a cloud of ob- scurity hung over the science, which was not dispersed until M. Deleuze published, in 1513, his Histoire Critique du Mag- netisme Animal. This work gave a new impulse to the half -forgotten fancy. Newspapers, pamphlets, and books again waged war upon each other on the question of its truth or falsehood; and many eminent men in the profes- sion of medicine recommenced inquiry with an earnest design to discover the truth.' 19 Compare Coleridge, Miscellanies, etc., ed. Ashe, 1885, pp. 351, 365 (footnote), 408, 410, etc. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 89 as Dykes Campbell points out, that by June, 1817, Coleridge had become deeply enough engrossed to think of writing a popular work of his own on animal magnetism, ' a proposal which he renewed (to Curtis) eighteen months later, when his old teacher, Blumenbach, had recanted his [disjbelief in it. And since he thereupon 'offered to contribute an historical treatise to the Encyclopedia Metropolitana,' the idea may possibly not have been so easily relinquished as were some of his numerous other literary projects. Campbell also refers to a contem- porary letter (August, 1817) in which Southey, writing to his wife, anticipates the nature of a visit which he is about to pay Coleridge: 'He will begin as he did when last I saw him, about Animal Magnetism, or some equally congruous subject, and go on from Dan to Beersheba in his endless loquacity.' 20 Coleridge's letter of Decem- ber 1, 1818, to Curtis, though rather long, may be quoted in full : 'Dear Sir: Sometime ago, I ventured to recommend an article on Animal Magnetism, purely historical, for the Encylopedia Metropol- itana. Since then the celebrated Professor Blumenbach, for so man}^ years the zealous antagonist of Animal Magnetism, has openly recanted his opinion in three separate para- graphs of his great work on Physiology, which is on P. W., Introduction, p. cii. 90 LANE COOPER a text book in all the hospitals and Medical Universities in Europe; and this too happens to be in the edition from which Dr. Elliotson has recently translated the work into English. Cu- vier had previously published his testimony, viz. that the facts were as undeniable as they were difficult to be explained on the present theory. The great names of Hufeland, Meckel, Reil, Autenrieth, Soemerring, Scarpa, etc., etc., appear as attesters of the facts, and their inde- pendence of the imagination of the patients. To these must be added the reports delivered in the courts of Berlin and Vienna by the several committees appointed severally by the Prussian and Austrian governments, and composed of the most eminent physicians, anatomists, and naturalists of the Prussian and Austrian States. In this country, the rising opinion of our first rate medical men is that the subject must sooner or later be submitted to a similar trial in this country, in order that so dangerous an imple- ment (if it should prove to be a new physical agent akin to the galvanic electricity) may be taken out of the hands of the ignorant and de- signing, as hath already been done on the Conti- nent by very severe Laws. Putting the truth or falsehood of the theory wholly out of the question, still it is altogether unique, and such as no history of the present age dare omit. Nay, it may be truly said that it becomes more interesting, more important, on the supposition THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 91 of its falsehood than of its truth, from the great number and wide dispersion of celebrated indi- viduals, of the highest rank in science, who have joined in attesting its truth; especially as the largest part of these great men were for a long time its open opponents, and all, with the single exception of Cuvier, its avowed disbelievers. Add to this that as an article of entertainment, and as throwing a new light on the oracles and mysteries of Greek, Roman, and Egyptian Paganism, it would not be easy to point out its rival. These are the grounds on which I rest my continued recommendation of such an article as well worthy the attention of the con- ductors of your great work. One other motive will not be without its weight in your mind. I have some grounds for believing that a work of this kind is in contemplation by persons from whose hands it ought, if possible, to be rescued by anticipation, as it will, I know, be a main object with them to use the facts in order to undermine the divine character of the Gospel history, and the superhuman powers of its great founder; a scheme which can be rendered plausible only by misstatements, exaggeration, and the confounding of testimonies — those of fanatics and enthusiasts with the sober results of guarded experiment, given in by men of science and authority.' 21 21 Some Unpublished Letters of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Lippincott's Magazine 13.710 (June, 1874). 92 LANE COOPER When they are put together, the marginal note and this letter suggest a fairly extensive list of volumes with which Coleridge might be presumed to have had some acquaintance. Doubtless he had access to other important works which he does not happen to cite. He must, of course, have dipped into Mesmer; a copy of Mesmerismus, Berlin, 1814, annotated by the poet, was among the books that came into the possession of Lord Coleridge. 22 He could scarce- ly have missed the passage on the evil eye in Bacon's essay Of Envy, or the passage on fas- cination in The Advancement of Learning. 23 He may in all likelihood have read more than one of the Latin treatises on fascination of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, such as that by Christian Frommann. 24 There is, however, at least in the marginal note, an element of grandiloquence which will lead the knowing to suspect that in regard to this, as to other domains of research, Coleridge gives the impression that he has mastered more of the pertinent literature than has actually been the 22 Haney, Bibliography of Coleridge, p. 121, No. 206. See also p. 112, No. 108; p. 124, No. 229. 23 Book 2. Works of Bacon, ed. Speckling, Ellis, and Eeath, 6.256-7. '-' Tractatus de Fascinatione Novus el Singularis, in quo Fascinatio vulgaris profligalur, naturalis confirmatur, & magit examinatur, etc., Norimberga:, 1675. Among 'the Latinists of the sixteenth century' Coleridge would doubt- less first of all include Paracelsus. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 93 case. Under any circumstances, it would not at present be advisable to attempt a more de- tailed account of his investigations, especially if they left him in the position where he began. For an understanding of his poetry, it seems advantageous to turn from his own later stud- ies, however extended, to the general interest in mesmerism evinced by the contemporaries of Coleridge during the formative period of his boyhood and youth. This interest was lively on the Continent, because of the vogue of Mes- mer and his immediate disciples (his paper on the discovery of magnetism having been pub- lished in 1779), and because of the stir aroused by the commissions appointed in France to inquire into the validity of his pretensions; 25 and it was lively in England shortly after, for example at London and Bristol, through the vogue of mesmerists like the celebrated Dr. John Bell and Dr. J. B. de Mainauduc. 26 This latter personage left an extraordinary reputa- tion at Bristol, so that Coleridge should ulti- mately have heard about him there; though it seems probable that he must have known some- thing of the great magnetizer while a schoolboy at Christ's Hospital in London. The methods by which the different magnet- 26 In 1784. 26 See the History of Animal Magnetism; its Origin, Prog- ress, and Present State; as Delivered by the late Dr. De Main- auduc, etc. By G. Winter. Bristol, 1801. 94 LANE COOPER izers attracted a following, did not, in all likeli- hood, vary to any great extent in their essentials, and must often have resembled the procedure of Mesmer himself in detail. He 'carried a long iron wand, with which he touched the bodies of the patients; . . often, laying aside the wand, he magnetized them with his eyes, fixing his gaze on theirs.' 27 In fact, he seems to have made use of the principle described by Binet and Fere 1 as ' hypnotization by sensorial excite- ment,' that is, (1) 'by excitement of the sense of sight' — not (a) 'strong and sudden excite- ment, by luminous rays, by solar or electric light' — but (b) 'slight and prolonged excite- ment, by fixing the eyes on an object, brilliant or otherwise, which is placed near the eyes, and somewhat above their level.' 28 The eye of the magnetizer, would, if unusually brilliant, con- stitute a suitable object for the patient's gaze; hence, as Mackay notes, with the mesmerists and animal magnetizers in general, fixing with the eye was an established element in the prac- tice : 'First, request [the patient] to resign him- self; to think of nothing; not to perplex himself by examining the effects which may be produced. . . . After having collected yourself, take his thumbs between your fingers in such a way that the internal part of your thumbs may be in 27 Binet and F6r6, Animal Magnetism, p. 10. 28 Animal Magnetism, p. 93. Compare Albert Moll, Hypnotism (1890), pp. 28 ff.; p. 72. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 95 contact with the internal part of his, and then fix your eyes upon him!' 29 Some conception of the stir created by the magnetizers in London while Coleridge was at school there, and at Bristol, which he sub- sequently visited, may be gathered from the following extracts, the first being supplied by Mackay : 'So much curiosity was excited by the sub- ject, that, about [1788] a man named Hollo- way gave a course of lectures on animal magnet- ism in London, at the rate of five guineas for each pupil, and realized a considerable fortune. Loutherbourg the painter and his wife followed the same profitable trade; and such was the infatuation of the people to be witnesses of their strange manipulations, that at times upwards of three thousand persons crowded around their house at Hammersmith, unable to gain admission. The tickets sold at prices varying from one to three guineas.' 30 In 1786, as recorded by Sir Gilbert Elliot, many well-known people were experiencing the magnetic treatment, among them the wife of Richard Brinsley Sheridan: 1 1 am going with [Mrs. Crewe] today to Dr. Bell, one of the magnetizing quacks, and the first whom I shall have seen. Lady Palmerston, 29 Extraordinary Popular Delusions 1. 293; Mackay quotes from the instructions of the magnetizer Deleuze (1813). 30 Extraordinary Popular Delusions 1. 287-8. 96 LANE COOPER Mrs. Crewe, Mrs. Sheridan, and Miss Crewe have been twice at Mainaduc's. They were all infidels the first day, except Mrs. Crewe, who seemed staggered a little by the number and variety of the people she saw affected by the crisis. The next time, Mrs. Sheridan and Mrs. Crewe were both magnetized, and both had what is called a crisis — that is, they both fell into a sort of trance, or waking sleep, in which they could hear what passed, but had no power of speaking or moving, and they described it as very like the effects of laudanum. 'All the fine people have been magnetized, and are learning to magnetize others. The Prince of Wales had a crisis — that is to say, be- came sick and faint.' 31 The next quotation, from Mackay, bears witness to the further renown of De Mainauduc at Bristol: 'In the year 1788 Dr. Mainauduc, who had been a pupil, first of Mesmer and afterwards of [Deslon], arrived in Bristol, and gave public lectures upon magnetism. His success was quite extraordinary. People of rank and fortune hastened from London to Bristol to be magnet- ized, or to place themselves under his tuition. Dr. George Winter, in his History of Animal Magnetism, gives the following list of them: "They amounted to one hundred and twenty- 31 Life and Letters of Sir Gilbert Elliot, First Earl of Minto, 1.111-113. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 97 seven, among whom there were one duke, one duchess, one marchioness, two countesses, one earl, one baron, three baronesses, one bishop, five right honorable gentlemen and ladies, two baronets, seven members of parliament, one clergyman, two physicians, seven surgeons, besides ninety-two gentlemen and ladies of respectability." He afterwards established him- self in London, where he performed with equal success.' 32 Coleridge was at school in London from 1782 until 1791; it seems impossible that he should have escaped all knowledge of what was in the air, especially as it was about 1788 when 'his brother Luke came to walk the London Hospi- tal, and Coleridge then thought of nothing but how he too might become a doctor. He read all the medical and surgical books he could procure.' 33 The extracts that have just been given will suffice to indicate the amount of attention which was popularly bestowed upon 'facts of mind' during the youth of Coleridge and Wordsworth, and will help to explain the number of allusions to hypnotic fascination, hypnotic trances and suggestion, and the emergence from psycho- logical ' crises', to be found in the poems designed by Wordsworth, and, more especially, by Cole- ridge, for the Lyrical Ballads of 1798. The Lyrical 32 Extraordinary Popular Delusions 1.287. 33 Campbell, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, p. 12. 98 LANE COOPER Ballads were not merely an experiment in adapt- ing a selection from the language of humble and rustic life to the expression of the chief human emotions; to a large extent they represented studies in the psychology of the abnormal, in which Wordsworth treated such diverse types as The Idiot Boy, the Forsaken Indian Woman, and Peter Bell — cases in actual life, or such as might have occurred in actual life, though he was to invest them with the light of the poetical imagination. Coleridge, on the other hand, who was to deal with 'supernatural ' events as if they were real, works within a much narrower range of subject-matter. To tell the truth, so far as his salient ideas are con- cerned he hardly goes beyond the province of animal magnetism; and the notion of 'fixing', and then of a sudden release, keeps getting the mastery over him after the fashion of a hobby bestriding its rider. Add to this conception of 'fixing' the readily associated idea of a good or an evil will in the magnetizer, which may natur- ally extend to blessing or cursing the person who is 'fixed', and we have the dominant notions in The Three Graves, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Christabel, and much of the contem- porary Osorio. There is, of course, a certain amount of Miltonic, Spenserian, and mediaeval demonology interwoven or adumbrated, and therefore a further variation according as one decides the question mooted by 'the Latinists' THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 99 of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, that is, whether 'fascination' is ever accomplished without demoniac assistance. Let the reader who can at every point in the story say whether the lady Geraldine is a witch, or ' an angel beau- tiful and bright' and yet 'a fiend', or a mere unsubstantial phantasm in the mind of Christa- bel, decide how Coleridge might have wished to settle this question. Presumably, in his effort to render the 'supernatural' more 'real', he failed to distinguish accurately for himself just when he believed, and when he did not be- lieve, in dubious or impossible phenomena ; that is, he tried to steer a middle course between 'subjectivity' and 'objectivity'. Indeed, Cole- ridge's wavering on this point — his ' philosoph- ical doubt,' even thus early, whether to present the strange occurrences of The Rime of the An- cient Mariner as frankly supernatural, or as in some measure capable of a rational explanation, on the ground that they existed only as mental hallucinations on the part of the main charac- ter, who saw them in a hypnotic trance, or as the vagaries of 'A Poet's Reverie', that is, the im- palpable substance of trances seen within a trance, a dream of a dream — involves his poem in an unfortunate want of self-consistency. When we examine particular instances, how- ever, the characteristics of the ever recurring magnetic trance in Coleridge betray a remark- able resemblance. One person, or personified 100 LANE COOPER object, 'fixes' another; the 'fixed' person or object thereupon remains so for a sharply de- fined period: Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die. 34 Then, without warning, the spell is 'snapt', and the hitherto motionless subject of the spell may be thrown into violent activity. Or, if the fascinated person or object has been set in motion by the fascinator, the motion is sud- denly retarded or wholly arrested when the trance of itself comes to an end, or when some other kind of magnet gains the ascendency: Till noon we quietly sailed on, Yet never a breeze did breathe: Slowly and smoothly went the ship, Moved onward from beneath. Under the keel nine fathom deep, From the land of mist and snow, The spirit slid: and it was he That made the ship to go. The sails at noon left off their tune, And the ship stood still also. The Sun, right up above the mast, Had fixed her to the ocean: But in a minute she 'gan stir, With a short uneasy motion — Backwards and forwards half her length With a short uneasy motion. Then like a pawing horse let go, She made a sudden bound. 36 » 4 A. M. 261-2. Compare Dante, Inferno 34.25-27. This may suggest other references in Dante, e. g., Puryatorio 32.7-9, 67-72. "A.M. 372-390. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 101 In Coleridge, for example in The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, one may almost say that any being or thing can 'fix' any other, so long as he or it may be supposed to have or be a face or an eye. Thus the Mariner fixes the Wedding- Guest, and holds him so to the end of the story; the Sun, which is at one time a face and per- haps at another an eye, in a certain position, namely the equatorial zenith, fixes the ship, which is also personified; the Moon is a face — or is she a benevolent eye? — so influential that the 'great bright eye' of the Ocean is caught and swayed by her; in the Hermit's description the wolf seems to be 'pointing' the owl; and the Pilot's boy is fixed by the Mariner. Further- more, in this same ballad there is an immense amount of apparently casual looking and watch- ing and eyeing, or of refusing and being unable to look, of good and evil looks, of glances direct and askance, of brilliant and alluring light and color, of glistening and glimmering, attractive and repulsive objects, all of which becomes sug- gestive when connected with the more evident cases of fascination. All or nearly all the look- ing is enforced, or is done in order to avoid the peril of fixation : My head was turned perforce away, And I saw a boat appear. 36 *«A. M. 502-3. 102 LANE COOPER Probably no other noun is so frequently em- ployed in the ballad as the word eye (or eyes) ; and the repetition of words like bright, bright- eyed, glitter, glittering, fixed, still, trance, having been mentioned in a footnote, requires no fur- ther discussion. In order to make the preceding remarks on Coleridge more intelligible, we need only scruti- nize the following extracts from his poetry. Here and there a line or two of explanation, or a footnote, will be added, when either may seem to be desirable; for order and transition in this material I may trust to a somewhat mechanical grouping — even though the groups patently overlap, and sometimes include mere verbal resemblances between passages where the hypnotic influence is not alluded to and those in which it is. 1. The bright flashing or glittering eye: (a) It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?' A. M. 1-4. (b) Bright-eyed Mariner. A.M. 20, 40. (c) ' I fear thee and thy glittering eye, 37 And thy skinny hand so brown.' A. M. 228-9. 37 'And constrained by that glittering eye, Hypatia knelt before her' [Miriam]. Kingsley, Hypatia. \ THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 103 (d) The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Whose beard with age is hoar, Is gone. A. M. 618-620. (e) Again the wild-flower wine she drank: Her fair large eyes 'gan glitter bright. Christabel 220-1. (f ) And both blue eyes more bright than clear, Each about to have a tear. With open eyes (ah woe is me !) Asleep, and dreaming fearfully. Christabel 290-3, (g) I see thy heart! There is a frightful glitter in thine eye, Which doth betray thee. Osorio 5.149-151. (h) Maria. O mark his eyel he hears not what you say. Osorio (pointing at vacancy). Yes, mark his eyel There's fascination in it. Osorio 5.255-6. (i) And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread. Kubla Khan 49-52. 2. The dull eye: (a) There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. 104 LANE COOPER A weary time ! a weary time ! How glazed each weary eye. A. M. 143-6. (b) A snake's small eye blinks dull and shy. Christabel 583. 3. The wild look : (a) 'God save thee, Ancient Mariner! From the fiends, that plague thee thus — Why look'st thou so?' — With my cross-bow I shot the Albatross. A. M. 79-82. (b) A gust of wind sterte up behind And whistled thro' his bones; Thro' the holes of his eyes and the hole of his mouth Half-whistles and half-groans. A. M., 1 ed., 195-8. (c) I moved my lips — the Pilot shrieked And fell down in a fit; The holy Hermit raised his eyes, And prayed where he did sit. I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go, Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro. 'Ha! Ha!' quoth he, 'full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row.' A. M. 560-9. (d) Behold ! her bosom and half her side — A sight to dream of, not to tell! O shield her! shield sweet Christabel! Yet Geraldine nor speaks nor stirs; Ah! what a stricken look was hers! Christabel 252-6. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 105 (e) Alas! what ails poor Geraldine? Why stares she with unsettled eye? Can she the bodiless dead espy? Christabel 207-9. (f ) His heart was cleft with pain and rage, His cheeks they quivered, his eyes were wild. Christabel 640-1. (g) Then when he fix'd his obstinate eye on you, And you pretended to look strange and tremble. Why — why — what ails you now? Osorio (with a stupid stare). Me? why? what ails me? A pricking of the blood — it might have happen' d At any other time. Osorio 3.175-9. (h) She started up — the servant maid Did see her when she rose ; And she has oft declared to me The blood within her froze. Three Graves 172-5. 4. The evil look : (a) Ah ! well-a-day ! what evil looks Had I from old and young ! A.M. 139-140. (b) Beneath the lamp the lady bowed, And slowly rolled her eyes around. Christabel 245-6. (c ) And in her arms the maid she took, Ah wel-a-day! And with low voice and doleful look These words did say: ' In the touch of this bosom there worketh a spell, Which is lord of thy utterance, Christabel.' Christabel 263 8. 106 LANE COOPER (d) . . . . Geraldine in maiden wise Casting down her large bright eyes, And folded her arms across her chest, And couched her head upon her breast, And looked askance at Christabel — Jesu, Maria, shield her well! Christabel 573-1, 579-582. (e) And sometimes starting up at once In green and sunny glade, — There came and looked him in the face An angel beautiful and bright ; And that he knew it was a Fiend, This miserable Knight! Love 47-52. 5. The eye and the curse; e.g., the moth- er's, brother's, widow's, or orphan's curse, and the dead man's curse: (a) Beneath the foulest mother's curse No child could ever thrive: A mother is a mother still, The holiest thing alive. Three Graves 255-9. (b) To him no word the mother said, But on her knee she fell, And fetched her breath while thrice your hand Might toll the passing-bell. ' Thou daughter now above my head, Whom in my womb I bore, May every drop of thy heart's blood Be curst for ever more.' Three Graves 134-141. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 107 (c) What if his spirit Re-enter'd its cold corse, and came upon thee, What if, his steadfast eye still beaming pity And brother's love, he turn'd his head aside, Lest he should look at thee, and with one look Hurl thee beyond all power of penitence? 38 Osorio 3. 80-1, 83-6. (d) Alhadra. ... I shall curse thee then! Wert thou in heaven, my curse would pluck thee thence. Osorio 5. 287-8. (e) Not all the blessings of an host of angels Can blow away a desolate widow's curse; And tho' thou spill thy heart's blood for atone- ment, It will not weigh against an orphan's tear. Osorio 5. 203-6. (f) 'The curse liveth for him in the eye of the dead men.' The cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor reek did they: The look with which they looked on me Had never passed away. An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high; But oh! more horrible than that 7s a curse in a dead man's eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die. A.M. 257-262 38 See also Osorio 1. 10-13, 20-21, 40-41, 80-81 (cf. P. W., p. 458, No. 52), 144, 185; 2. 22-3, 84, 99-100, 106-7, etc. \ 108 LANE COOPER (g) All stood together on the deck, For a charnel-dungeon fitter: All fixed on me their stony eyes, That in the moon did glitter. The pang, the curse, with which they died, Had never passed away: I could not draw my eyes from theirs, Nor turn them up to pray. And now this spell was snapt: once more I viewed the ocean green, And looked far forth, yet little saw Of what had else been seen. A. M. 434-445. — This is because what is behind him has the same effect as the eye of a fiend upon the sinner whom he is pur- suing. 6. Enforced looking, refusal to look, and the effort to look away : (a) He holds him with his skinny hand, 'There was a ship,' quoth he. 'Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!' Eftsoons his hand dropt he. 39 A. M. 9-12. 39 Eftsoons his hand dropt he: Though this may mean that the Wedding-Guest at first takes hold of the Mariner's hand in order to free himself, and then desists as the spell begins to work, it may otherwise mean that the Mariner drops his hand, since he now can hold the Wedding-Guest by the power of the glittering eye. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 109 (b) Listen, O listen, thou Wedding-guest ! 'Marinere! thou hast thy will: 'For that, which comes out of thine eye, doth make 'My body and soul to be still.' 40 A.M., led., 362-5. (c) Lines 45-50 of A. M. represent a pursuit where we are to imagine the pursuer with his eyes fastened upon the back of the head of him who is being pursued. The pursued does not look around. (d) And in A. M., lines 149-152, the Mariner's eye is fixed upon a distant object, which, as it approaches, as- sumes the form of a ship. (e) All stood together on the deck, For a charnel-dungeon fitter: All fix'd on me their stony eyes That in the moon did glitter. The pang, the curse, with which they died, Had never pass'd away: I could not draw my een from theirs Ne turn them up to pray. 40 The Wedding-Guest clearly refers to a magnetic emana- tion from the body of the Mariner. Mackay says: 'The assertions made in the celebrated treatise of Deleuze are thus summed up: "There is a fluid continually escaping from the human body," and "forming an atmosphere around us," which, as "it has no determined current," produces no sensible effects on surrounding individuals. It is, however, "capable of being directed by the will;" and, when so directed, "is sent forth in currents," with a force corresponding to the energy we possess. Its motion is "similar to that of the rays from burning bodies." . . . The will of the magnetizer . . . can fill a tree with this fluid. . . . Some persons, when sufficiently charged with this fluid, fall into a state of somnambulism, or mag- netic ecstasy; and when in this state, "they see the fluid encircling the magnetizer like a halo of light." ' Extraor- dinary Popular Delusions 1.291. 110 LANE COOPER And in its time the spell was snapt, And I could move my een. A. M., 1 ed., 439-448. (f) I looked upon the rotting sea, And drew my eyes away; I looked upon the rotting deck, And there the dead men lay. I looked to heaven, and tried to pray. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet. A. M. 240-244, 248-252. (g) Beneath the lightning and the Moon The dead men gave a groan. They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes. A. M. 329-332. The body of my brother's son Stood by me, knee to knee; The body and I pulled at one rope But he said nought to me. A. M. 341-344. (h) The Marineres all 'gan pull the ropes, But look at me they n'old: Thought I, '1 am as thin as air — They cannot me behold.' A. M., 1 ed., 374-7. (i) I turn'd my head in fear and dread, And by the holy rood, The bodies had advanc'd, and now Before the mast they stood. They lifted up their stiff right arms, They held them straight and tight; And each right-arm burnt like a torch, A torch that's borne upright. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 111 Their stony eye-balls glitter 'd on In the red and smoky light. I pray'd and turn'd my head away Forth looking as before. A. M., 1 ed., 489-500. (j) But soon I heard the dash of oars, I heard the Pilot's cheer; My head was turned perforce away, And I saw a boat appear. A. M. 500-503. (k) The boat came closer to the ship, But I nor spake nor stirred. A. M. 542-3. (1) I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me : To him my tale I teach. A. M. 586-590. 7. The bright and flashing object: (a) I cannot chuse but fix my sight On that small vapor, thin and white 1 Variant lines in Lewti, P. W., p. 568. (b) The brands were flat, the brands were dying, Amid their own white ashes lying; But when the lady passed, there came A tongue of light, a fit of flame, And Christabel saw the lady's eye, And nothing else saw she thereby, Save the boss of the shield of Sir Leoline tall.* 1 Christabel 156-162. 41 That is, besides the eye-like boss of the shield, Christa- bel sees what we often observe in the lower animals, cats, for example, but more rarely in human beings, when a beam of light is properly reflected from the retina of the animal or person into the eye of the observer. Compare the use made by Poe of this phenomenon in The Tell-tale Heart. 112 LANE COOPER ( c ) The smooth thin lids Close o'er her eyes; and tears she sheds- Large tears that leave the lashes bright! And oft the while she seems to smile As infants at a sudden light ! Yea, she doth smile, and she doth weep. Christabel 314-319. (d) A little distance from the prow Those crimson shadows were: I turned my eyes upon the deck — Oh, Christ! what saw I there! Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, And, by the holy rood! A man all light, a seraph-man, On every corse there stood. This seraph-band, each waved his hand: It was a heavenly sight ! They stood as signals to the land, Each one a lovely light. 42 A. M. 488-495. (e) With the images in Coleridge's description of the flaming seraph-band compare the fascination produced by the 'fire-flags' (aurora borealis) in A. M. 313-7; the parti- colored water in A. M. 269-271; and the glistening 'water- snakes' m A.M. 272-281. 8. The Sun personified, and represented as having a face or an eye with the power of fas- cination : « Compare Milton, Paradise Lost 6. 579-881 : At each behind A Seraph stood, and in his hand a Reed Stood waving tipt with fire. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 113 (a) The sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. A. M. 25-28. (b) The Sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. A. M. 83-86. (c) Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious sun uprist. A. M. 97-98. (d) The women sat down by his side, And talked as 'twere by stealth. 'The Sun peeps through the close thick leaves, See, dearest Ellen! see! 'Tis in the leaves, a little sun, No bigger than your ee; 'A tiny sun, and it has got A perfect glory too; Ten thousand threads and hairs of light, Make up a glory gay and bright Round that small orb, so blue.' Three Graves 503-513. (e) The western wave was all a-flame. The day was well nigh done! Almost upon the western wave Rested the broad bright Sun; When that strange shape drove suddenly Betwixt us and the Sun. 114 1 A NE COOPER And straight the Sun was flecked with bars, (Heaven's Mother send ns grace!) As if through a dungeon-grate be peered With broad and burning face. .1. .1/. 171-1S0. (f) The thought is repeated in lines 186-6, the gloss to which reads: 'And its [the spectre-ship's] ribs are seen as bars on the face of the setting sun.' (g) 'The ship hath suddenly been becalmed.' And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea ! All in a hot and copper sk> , The bloody Sun. at noon. Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon.' 13 Pay after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; ka idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. .1. M. 109-119. (h) The sails at noon left off their tune, And the ship stood still also. The Sun, right up above the mast, Had fixed her to the ocean : u But in a minute she 'gan stir, With a short uneasy motion- Backwards and forwards half her length With a short uneasy motion. 45 And at mid-day from the mast No shadow on the deck is cast. Bowles, Camocns 40-41. 44 For the sun as an eye, compare: Xo longer . may I behold yon day-star's sacred eye. Sophocles, Antigone 8S0-1. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 115 Then like a pawing horse let go, She made a sudden bound. .4.. If. 3S1-300. 9. The fascination of the Moon, which is personified, and represented as a face or eye : (a) Mother of wildly-working visions! hail! I watch thy gliding, while with watery light Thy weak eye glimmers through a fleecy veil. Sonnet to the Autumnal Moon 2-5. (b) 'At the rising of the Moon,' We listened and looked sideways up! A. M. 202. —namely, at the star-dogged Moou. Whereupon, One after one, by the star-dogged Moon, Too quick for groan or sigh, Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye. A. M. 211-214. (c) ' In his loneliness and fixedness, he yearneth to- wards the journeying Moon.' The moving Moon went up the sky, And no where did abide. A. M, 263-4 /. e., after a seven day's gazing at the eyes of the dead men, he fixes his eye on the Moon, which is, like the Sun, a face or an eye. Then he turns his face to the ocean, and watches the water-snakes as they glisten. He blesses them, the spell is 'snapt', and he is able to pray. (d) 'Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the Moon is cast — 116 LANE COOPER If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother see! how graciously She looketh down on him'. 45 A. M. 414-421. (e) Osorio {with great majesty). O woman! I have stood silent like a slave before thee. Osorio 5. 302-3. (f ) The moonlight steeped in silentness The steady weathercock. A. M. 478-479 (g) Silent icicles, Quietly shining to the quiet Moon. Frost at Midnight 73-74. (h) On moonlight bushes, Whose dewy leaflets are but half-disclosed, You may perchance behold them on the twigs, Their bright, bright eyes, their eyes both bright and full, Glistening, while many a glow-worm in the shade Lights up her love-torch. The Nightingale 64-9. 46 For lo the Sea that fleets about the Land, And like a girdle clips her solide waist, Musike and measure both doth understand; For his great chrystall eye is alwayes cast Up to the Moone, and on her fixed fast; And as she daunceth in her pallid spheere, So daunceth he about his Center heere. Sir John Davies, Orchestra, stanza 49. The parallel to Coleridge was noted by Mrs. Humphry Ward, in Ward's English Poets, 1880, 1.550. See also: In the broad open eye of the solitary sky. Wordsworth, Stray Pleasures 16. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 117 (i) And he beheld the moon, and, hushed at once, Suspends his sobs, and laughs most silently, While his fair eyes, that swam with undropped tears, Did glitter in the yellow moon-beam! Well! — It is a father's tale. 46 The Nightingale 102-106. 10. Fascination of animals: (a) 'When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, That eats the she-wolf's young.' A. M. 535-7. (b) And what can ail the mastiff bitch? Never till now she uttered yell Beneath the eye of Christabel. 47 Christabel 149-151. (c) When lo! I saw a bright green snake Close by the dove's its head it crouched; \ This dream it would not pass away — It seems to live upon my eye! Christabel 549, 552, 558-9. (d) A snake's small eye blinks dull and shy, And the lady's eyes they shrunk in her head, Each shrunk up to a serpent's eye, And with somewhat of malice, and more of dread, At Christabel she look'd askance I — One moment — and the sight was fled! 46 Cf. P. W., p. 456, No. 37. 47 A searching study of Coleridge's use of the super- natural in Christabel is to be found in Mr. Ernest Hartley Coleridge's edition of the poem (London, 1907). See also the comprehensive treatise, in two volumes, on the evil eye, by Dr. S. Seligman: Der Bose Blick, Berlin, 1910. 118 LANE COOPER But Christabel in dizzy trance Stumbling on the unsteady ground Shuddered aloud, with a hissing sound; And Geraldine again turned round, And like a thing, that sought relief, Full of wonder and full of grief, She rolled her large bright eyes divine Wildly on Sir Leoline. The maid, alas! her thoughts are gone, She nothing sees, — no sight but one\ The maid, devoid of guile and sin, I know not how, in fearful wise, So deeply had she drunken in That look, those shrunken serpent eyes, That all her features were resigned To this sole image in her mind: And passively did imitate That look of dull and treacherous hatel And when the trance was o'er, the maid Paused awhile, and inly prayed. Christabel 583-606, 613-614. It may throw a further light on Coleridge's conception of the power of the eye, if we briefly examine Wordsworth's use of a similar concep- tion in Peter Bell, especially if we remember that this poem was written as a sort of counter to The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Wordsworth employs the idea of ocular fascination, but in such a way that we can see its explanation on wholly rational grounds. Peter fancies that he is under the control of supernatural influences, but the reader knows that Peter is fascinated, not from without, not by spirits or emanations THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 119 from persons or things external, but from within by his own fears, that is, by the 'spirits of the mind', reacting upon the outer environment. Wordsworth makes use of a sort of 'facts of mind', the existence of which has never been disputed. Furthermore, with Wordsworth, ocu- lar fascination is only one device out of many whereby the hero's conversion is effected. There are a dozen other means to his salvation, with which, however, we have no present concern. To be compared, then, with the passages from Coleridge are the following passages from Peter Bell. First, the one in which the 'shining hazel eye' of the Ass is turned toward Peter, and again turned away from him to the object in the water. Next, the one in which Peter's eye becomes fixed upon the object in the water, the fixation being accompanied by a host of images of the most diverse kinds, that flash and throng through Peter's brain. Next, the one in which The mosques and spires change countenance, And look at Peter Bell ! 48 Nor may we forget the good soul whose eye is fascinated by the ghostly apparition of a word (unnamed) formed by the wick of the taper falling on the page of his book. This account, of course, has a more or less humorous intention, " P. B. 689-690. 120 LANE COOPER as has also the description of the Ass turning his head to grin at Peter, while Peter eyes the Ass and grins back. Two representative pas- sages from the ballad may be quoted : He looks, be cannot choose but look; Like some one reading in a book — A book that is enchanted. Ah, well-a-day for Peter Bell! He will be turned to iron soon, Meet Statue for the court of Fear. 49 And now the Spirits of the Mind Are busy with poor Peter Bell; Upon the rights of visual sense Usurping, with a prevalence More terrible than magic spell. The sweat pours down from Peter's face, So grievous is his heart's contrition; With agony his eye-balls ache While he beholds by the furze-brake This miserable vision ! 50 That the normal emotions of the human spirit may endure sufferings more terrible than those produced by 'magic spell' is Wordsworth's tacit criticism upon some of the devices employed by Coleridge. A more prolonged comparison than can here be made between The Rime of the " P. B. 518-523. 50 P. B. 916 920. 931-5. THE EYE IN COLERIDGE 121 Ancient Mariner and Peter Bell would bring out further interesting differences in the treatment of detail by the two poets. It is enough to say that in the happy fitting of details into a gen- eral plan, and the transition from one incident to the next, the superiority lies altogether on the side of Wordsworth. For one thing, since he is more fertile he is not compelled to make the same notion do duty, under various dis- guises, for the machinery throughout an en- tire ballad. If he does repeat himself, the repetition is not of a questionable and, after all, unimportant phenomenon, such as that of ocular hypnosis. As for Coleridge, one can scarcely maintain that the passages here col- lected tend to ennoble one another in such a fashion as to increase our respect for this author. It is disappointing to find his 'poet's eye' con- tinually 'fixed' by so trivial a 'fact of mind'. \ A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT OF BEDE'S ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY. BY EDWARD G. COX, PH.D. The following text is taken from Laud 1 610, fol. 89b 1, a vellum manuscript in the Bodleian Library, and is printed entire for the first time 2 in Anecdota, vol. iii, 1910. Other works testi- fying to the interest the mediaeval Irish felt in the "breomra bocera" are the "Carlsruhe Bede," 3 glosses on De Rerum Natura and onDe Temporum Ratione; the "Vienna Fragment," 4 1 Described by Todd in Proc. Roy. Ir. Acad., ii, 336-345; by O'Donovan, Book of Rights; by Zimmer, Gott. gel. Am., 1887, 190-193; and by A. D'Arbois de Jubainville in Cata- logue de la Liiierature Epique de VIrlande. It contains a large collection of miscellaneous pieces, written by differ- ent hands, ranging in date from perhaps the 12th century to the 15th. Among its most important contents are a ver- sion of the Calendar of Oengus, an imperfect copy of Cormac's Glossary, and fragments of Accallam na Senorach. 2 Kuno Meyer has called attention to this text in Zeit. f. cell. Phil, ii, 321. Anecdota from Irish MSS., ed. by O. J. Bergin, R. I. Best, Kuno Meyer, J. G. O'Keefe, Dublin. 3 Edited by Zimmer in Glosses Hibernicce, 1881, and by Stokes in Old Irish Glosses at Wurzburg and Carlsruhe, 1887. Zimmer dates its authorship at about the year 850. 4 A re-reading of these Glosses, first publ. by Stokes in 'laidelica, 1872, and by Zimmer in Glossae Hibernicce and )ii.~ supplement thereto, has been made by Strachan in Rev. Celt., xxiii, 40 ff. Both Bedes are included in the Thesaurus Palceohibemicus, 1901-1903. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 123 glosses on part of the treatise De Temporum Ratione; the Betha Fursa, 5 Life of Fursa, the abbot of Lagny, whose life set forth by Bede in Bk. iii, ch. xix, of the Historia Ecclesiastica, is translated very closely by some unknown Irish writer. Furthermore Bede's name is mentioned in "A Fragment of the Old Irish Psalter," 6 and his division of the ages of the world is followed by the author of the Leabhor Gabala, 7 — "The Book of Invasions." The present work is a very free, curtailed translation of the first two books of the Ecclesi- astical History. It is a good specimen neither of Irish translation nor of Irish composition. Its author was careless and inaccurate, and toward the end had apparently lost interest in what he was doing. He frequently misread the original, confused the facts and dates, and set forth the whole in a style that is loose, awkward, and compressed to the point of obscurity. The incident of Gregory's first meeting with the Old English slaves in the market-place the author gives in full; but he omits, in his account of Edwin's conversion, the beautiful allegory of the flight of the sparrow through the lighted hall from darkness into darkness. In his carry- ing over of proper names, the author is very 6 Edit, and trans, by Stokes, from a Brussels MS., in Rev. Celt., xxv, 385 ff. 6 Edit., etc., by Kuno Meyer in Hibernica Minorca, 1894. 7 See Rev. Celt., xxix, 250. 121 EDWARD G. COX inconsistent: at times he transfers them bodily, preserving a pseudo-Latin inflection; at other times he uses the Irish equivalents. Nevertheless the translation is deserving of attention, not for its method and manner, but for the fact that it may have been made not much more that a hundred and fifty years after Bede's death, and for its contribution to our knowledge of Old and Middle Irish forms, at the stage when the transition from the Old to the Middle period was going on. Kuno Meyer would place the date of its com- position as early as the ninth century, practic- ally in the Old Irish period. While many ar- chaic features are observable, yet the Middle Irish characteristics prevail so largely that I am inclined to doubt by a century so high an antiquity. In other words, I should assign its composition to near the beginning of the tenth century. In this century the old verbal system was beginning to break up, and to this unsettled condition our text is no stranger. The fact that the deponents are fairly numerous, although some, especially the denominatives in -igim, have gone over into the active conjugation, leads me to prefer the beginning of the century to the middle. I shall set down in some detail some of the evidence that points to a very early period of Middle Irish, following it up with a partial list of distinctly Middle Irish features, together A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 125 with a glance in passing, as it were, at the verbal system. 1. Here belongs the statement made above of the depo- nents. 2. With one exception, the particle ro- is still infixed in compound verbs. 3. The distinction between prototonic and enclitic forms of the verb is fully observed, with the exception of such forms as rue, tuc, tdnic, rdnic, etc., which, even in Old Irish, had pushed aside the prototonic forms. 4. No prototonic forms follow the negative ni. 5. The distinction between passive preterites and active preterites, marked in Middle Irish by the absence of aspir- ation of the initial consonant of the verb in the former case, and by its presence in the latter, is not observed here. 6. Eclipsis is seldom indicated; aspiration is very sporadic. 7. The article still clings to some of the Old Irish forms, e. g., inna, gen. sg. fern.; a, ace. sg. neut. In the main, however, the forms are confused. 8. The neuter has not wholly been absorbed into the masculine inflection. 9. The accusative plural endings of o-stems in -u are fairly well preserved. 10. The prepositions la and iar govern respectively the accusative and the dative, and dochum is found once with transported n. 11. After a preposition, datives in the plural have not yet gone over into the accusative. 12. The accusative sometimes precedes its governing verb, and not infrequently the subject does also, unless the copula is supposed to have been brought forward the sub- ject. Note such cases as Sabinct ba flaith, §26; Eduni in ri rochuinnig-side ingin, §29; Tri cinela Saxan tdncatar assin Germain, §19. Similarly I append some distinctly Middle Irish characteristics: 126 EDWARD G. COX 1. Specific relative forms of the verb are not used. 2. After ro- h is often inserted to prevent hiatus. 3. After amal, "as though," the negative used is na in place of nl. 4. There are no instances of the relative -n— . 5. The declension of i-stems is unsettled, and in o- and io- stems u-infection is wanting. 6. Transported n after accusative and after nominative neuters is wanting. 7. Neither the reflexive nor the emphasizing pronouns are used in strict accord with case, number, and person. 8. The following words are peculiar to Middle Irish: cethri, §13, for cethir; cuic, §3, for c6ic; dochuas, §14, for docoas; cloidem, §18, for claideb; donafib, §22, and iarsna- fib, §23, for donaibhi and iarsnaibhi; ona, §30, isna, §1, dona, §19, for onaib, isnaib, donaib; na, §26, for ina; bam, §24, 1st sg. fut. of subst. verb; corbam, §29, 1st sg. subj. of subst. verb; bud, §24, 3rd sg. second, subj. of copula. 9. There are no instances of the use of the affixed pronoun. Some of the more common orthographical peculiarities are: -a for -ce: techta, §22; arsata, §1; bliadna, §8; menma, §29; cara, §29. ai for oi : daine, §18; taisechu, §18. -a for -e: d6na, §30; eclastacda, §36. ffi for ai: inrsetar, §18; gse, §18, araele, §11. ai for ae: laichaib, §24; cumachtai, §23. ai fori: laichaib, §24; athair, §9; cathair, §26. i for e: cinela, §19; br^thri, §20; buidi, §24; tuaithi, §4. d for th final: tuaid, §29; inrud, §15; dognid, §29. dh for d final: cheilebradh, §34; cladh, §14; c6icedh, §27. dh for d internal: suidhi, §29; comardha, §33. gh for g final: cathraigh, §23; chlaraigh, §33; clerigh, §23. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 127 th for d internal: cennathaig, §2; irnaigthib, §23. nd for later nn: and, §20; roindis, §29; cend, §19; afriund, §22. The more important details of the verbal system are as follows: Infixed pronouns : dia-no-m-soera, §30, 1st sg. ; no-t-uas- laicfind, §30, 2nd sg. ; ra-foglaim, §2, 3rd sg. masc; con-id-romarb, §8, 3rd sg. masc; nach-a-ragbad, §23, 3rd sg. masc. ; do-s-f uc, §22, 3rd sg. fern. ; ro-n-fdided, §22, 1st pi.; ni-s-leicset, §15, 3rd pi.; ro-s-tuc, §2, 3rd pi. ; ro-s-digbatar, §14, 3rd pi. Prototonic forms: fox-dcaib, §28; dochuaid, §19; dorat, §23; dorochair, §33; dorigne, §23. Enclitic: farcaib, §4; co n-dechaid, §29; ni tharsat, §15; i torchair, §23; nl chumaic, §23. Perfects : t&nac, §29, 1st sg. ; co r-ranic, §5, 3rd sg. ; atchon- dairc, §30, 3rd sg. T-pret. : atbath, §29, 3rd sg. ; atbert, §23, 3rd sg. ; atracht, §33, 3rd sg. ; con<§rrachtatar, §19, 3rd pi.; doruacht, §14, 3rd sg. S-pret. : The majority of these preterites are perfective preterites: roattrebsat, §23, 3rd pi. ; rocathaigset, §14, 3rd pi.; rochosecair, §23, 3rd sg. ; rodluthus, §29, 1st sg. ; dor6nsat, §14, 3rd pi. ; roforcan, §1, 3rd sg. ; ni 16ic, §31, 3rd sg. ; rofaid, §33, 3rd sg. Reduplicated pret. : dochuaid, §19; dochoid, §19, 3rd sg. ; fiiair, §1, 3rd sg.; adchuala, §29, 3rd sg. ; otcualatar, §14, 3rd pi. Unredup. pret.: dorochair, §33, 3rd pi.; lotar, §14, 3rd pi. Ro-less pret. : con-acca, §24, 3rd sg. F-fut.: diiiltaib, §29, 1st sg. : atchluinfe, §30, 2nd sg.; mairfed, §29, 3rd sg. ; ricfaidthi, §22, 2nd pi.; canfaid, §24, 3rd pi. Redup.-fut.: atbera, §23, 3rd sg.; fogebthaidh, §22, 2nd pi. S-fut. : tsethaisti, §24, 2nd pi. Secondary f-fut.: 6entaigfitis, §24, 3rd pi.; ordaigfed, §23, 3rd sg. 128 EDWARD G. COX A-subj.: dernai, §30, 3rd sg.; marba, §29, 3rd sg. ; conorrag- ba, §23, 3rd sg. S-subj.: coemos, §29, 1st. sg.; coemsat, §29, 3rd pi. Secondary a-subj.: 16ictis, §19, 3rd pi.; nosaiged, §18, 3rd sg.; rochomStad, §22, 3rd sg.; ro-h-ordned, §23, 3rd sg. ; rothorromad, §29, 3rd sg. Sec. s-subj.: tistais, §14, 3rd pi. Deponents: rofaidestar, §19, 3rd sg. s-pret.; rofaidhestar, §34, the same; forodomair, §9, 3rd sg. s-pret.: roprit- chastar, §22, 3rd sg. s-pret.; ro-h-assair, §17, 3rd sg. pret. in -ai; tucsamar, §22, 1st pi. perf. ; fesamar, §22, 1st pi. s-subj.; rochreitsetar, §19, 3rd pi. s-pret. Passive: ro-h-ordned, §26, 3rd sg. s-pret.; [f]rith, §18, 3rd sg. redup. pret.; robaded, §36, 3rd sg. s-pret.; rofail- siged, §29, 3rd sg. s-pret. (formerly deponent) ; rofecht, §32, 3rd sg. t-pret.; romarbta, §25, 3rd pi. s-pret.; dochuas, §14, 3rd sg. red. pret; dobdrthar, §22, 3rd sg. red. fut. Imperfect: rognithe, §1, 3rd sg. ; noimtheiged, §33, 3rd sg. The above scheme, together with the Notes, which deal with additional linguistic features, does not pretend to be exhaustive. In the text itself I have indulged in a few minor changes, such as using the hyphen with transported n-, with the h inserted to prevent hiatus, and with the infixed pronouns, joining the particle ro- to the verb following, and making the accent con- stant. The translation, which is fairly literal, is intended to aid prospective students of Old and Middle Irish. The Glossarial Index merely calls attention to rare words or to forms of in- terest. I take pleasure in expressing my obligation to Dr. O. J. Bergin, Professor of Old and Middle A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 129 Irish in the National University of Ireland, Dublin, for the explanation of many obscure passages. Text 1. Augtar inna h-ealathan sa Beid h-uasal- sacart 1 ecnaid fer ratha De i n-ecna 7 i crabud. Fiiair 2 Beid dano forthachtaigthid .i. Alpin in t-ab 3 ro-h-airmitnech, in fer ro-h-orcthe trisna h-uile disciplu 4 ina fer n-eolach Teodir epsco[ip] 7 Adrian inn abbad, ar rofogluind Alpin 6 des- cippluibh Griguir nahi rognithe 5 h-i cenmithaig Cantuariorum 7 isna ferannaibh comacraibhibh 7 ana 6 f uair 6 sencassaibh na littre no 6 tidnacul na sen6rach 7 rotharmhinuid Albin 7 co Beid innahi ro-h-asneid do Nothelmus h-iiasal-sacart na h-ecailsi lundunensis rodbo 6 littrib no 6 h-imaccalmaibh. a Is e Nothelmus tucastar epistil 6 Griguir nach 8 6 R6im co Saxano. Isiat roforcan Albin comtis echlanta don sairse Beid n6ibh. 9 O thossach immorro na staire co creitem na Saxan 6 scribendaib na n-arsata adiu 's anall rofoglaind Beid 7 rothin61. Daniel immorro episcopus Saxan funetta rof aides tar cuca 6 h- epistlib stair a ceniuil fadein 7 na Saxain des- certach 7 Inse Uechta3. 2. Iris immorro intinscanta 1 Mercio[ru]m Saxorum b rafoglaim 2 corraba-side tresna da h- uasal-sacart Ceddi 7 Cedda 7 co ro-h-athnuiged a Leg.: h-imaccalmaibh. b Leg.: Saxonum 130 EDWARD G. COX treotha iris na Saxan airtherach .i. Lestingseu. Nahf rognitheh-icennathaigna Saxan airtherach arranic rainn de 6 thidnaicthib na n-asartha, raind aile 6 atharcud inn abadh h-Essi. Nahi immorro rognith i 1-leith ra c h-iris Crist h-i cennathaig Lindis ro-h-oglaind 6 guth bm in t-uasal-sacart Cimbericht. Tidnacle immorro Nordanimbrorum .i. sencassa Saxan tuascer- tach, sochaide 3 6 fuair-seom y ro-s-tuc fern. 3. Britania 1 insola occiani cui quondam Al- bion no[me]n erat ocht cet mile chemend ina fot .cc. ina lethet inna h-imtimcell immorro .i. cuic mile sechtmogat fo h-ocht [cet] cethrachat. 2 Oct cathracha flchet inti y cuic berlai 3 .i. Sax- anbe>la y b£rla Brethnas y berla Cruithnech y Goedelg y Laten. 4. Anno .xl°. natiuitatem Chris ti .i. ceth- racha bliac^an ria n-gein Crist tanic Gaius Ilius i nn-Inis Bretan, co fargaib a longa y a sluag in cet fecht, y co farcaib Labienus 1 tribunus. Ruc-som fo deoid giullu Inse Brefcan. 5. Cluid Cessar in cethramad ri iar n-Iuil 1 tanicc a n-Inis Bretan co r-ranicc co h-Insi h-Orc ab incarnacione Domini .clvi. 6. Marcus Antonius cona brathair .i. Lucio Aurilio Commodo cretim i nn-In[is] Bretan. Ab incarnatione Domini .clxxx. ix. Seuerus Affer Tripolitanus tanic i n-Inis Bretan, Lep- tis ainm a chathrach sin Affraic, in xuii. ri iar c Leg. : na. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 131 n-Iuil. Is leis dor6nad clad Saxan. Atbath h-i Cair Abroic. 1 7. Dd, mac occa .i. Bassianus 7 Geta. Ba sein rogabh in rige, 1 ainm d6 Antonm, ab in- carnatione Domini .cclxxxui. 8. Dioclisten in tres rl ar .xxx. iar n-Iuil, 7 Maximen tame i nn-Inis Bretan. Isna h-aim- sir rogab Carausius rige Bretan .uii. m-bliadno. conidromarb 1 Alectus, co r-rogaib-side rige tri blieLdna conidromarb Asclipidotus 7 ba ri-side re .x. bliadan. 9. Dicclisten i n-airthiur in domuin ac in- greim na Cristaide 7 Maximen ina h-iartur. h-Issind ingreim-se forodomair Alpan n6eb 7 Aaron 7 Iuil airchinnech Cathrach Legionum. 1 Isind aimsir-se atbath Constans ri Bretan athair Constantin meic Helinae .i. caratben Constantin. Roscrib Eutropius conid ann rogab Constantin a rige ar tus i nn-Inis Bretan. 10. D&ig rogab a h-athair flaithius Franc 7 Hespainech i m-bethaid Dioclisten ab incarna- tione .ccclxui. 11. Gratianus cethrachad ri 6 Iuil, isna h- aimsir-side rogab araele Maxim rige Brettan ab incarnatione Domini .cccxciiii. 12. Arcadius i r-rige in domuin .i. mac Theothois 1 in tres ri ar .xl. iar n-Augwis*. Pi- lagius Brit do gabail ersi 2 7 do thogail na Cristaidi. 13. Ab incarnatione Domini .cccc. uii. Cethri bliadna .xl. 1 resin debliadain togla R6ma 2 132 EDWARD G. COX 6 h-Elair rig na n-Goth rorigadh Gratian c6raid i m-Brethnaz'6 7 romarbad iartain. Constantm iartainri 6 aiimain in ch6ro 3 innaas 6 inracus conidromarb Constantinus Comes tre forcongru Honorii. Tannic Const ans a mac a manchaine 7 rogabh rige. 14. Robrissed tra R6im iartain millisimo .c°. xl.° uii.° hli&dain 6 rocomtaiged. Is e sin crfch flaithusa R6m£n for Inis Bretan, iar .cccclxx. bliacfom 6 rogabh Iiiil Inis Bretan tra ro-s-dfg- batar Romanaigh imma miltnecht 7 nir far- cabsat 6cbad no aes engna d inti 7 rucsat Romd- naigh 7 ni-s-leicset h-uadib etir. IS aire sin dor6nsat G6edil 7 Cruithnig na da chiniud chomfochraibe sin braitt 7 creich dibh. Do- chuas 1 6 Bretnaib co n-epistlib co r-Romanchu ar dd,ig cobartha, 7 doruacht miltnect calma cucu 7 dorr6nad clad accu dar in n-insi ri h-ucht Cmthnech 7 G6edel, 7 dochuatar dia taig iar- tain. Fo cetoir tdncatar na n^mait 7 rothun- setar Bretnu amal gort abbaig. Rofaitte 2 na techtairi dorisse 7 doruact legion do chobair Bretan 7 rochathaigset ri n&imdibh Brettan 7 ro-h-athnuged in cladh leo dorrigned la Seuerus. Ba do clochaib in fecht sain .i. uii. traiged ina lethe 7 .xii. ina h-arde, 3 o muir co m-muir a fott. Tuir imda fair 7 daingnigther amal na tistais dorfs 4 dia cobair 7 lotar as. Otcualatar G6idil 7 Cruithnig amal ch6no altafochdirib 5 dochuatar Leg.: engnama. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 133 foithib ab incarnatione Domini .cccc. xxui. Teothois Iunior post Honorium in cethramad ri .3d. iar n-Auguist. 15. Palladius dochum n-Erenn 1 a papa Cel- istino. h-I .xxxiii. in Teothois sin rucad epistil ina m-briathar-sa 6 Bretnaib dochum in consuil diarbo ainm C6etium 2 .i. 'Nos repellunt barbari ad mare, [mare] repellit ad barbaros. Inter hsec oriuntur duo genera funerum, id est aut iugulamur aut mergimur.' Act cena ni tarsat Romanaig dia n-aid, deithbir 6n iarsinn aimsir sin roboi Bledla 7 Attila da rig na n-Umuneta 3 h-ic inrud Roman co romalartsatar cid Eoroip uili 7 co tanicc gorta m6r dia n-eis. 16. Marb immorro sochaide do Bretnaib do gortai iarna slait ma n-uile biad do CruthmM 7 do G6edelaibh. 17. Tanic immed messa 7 toraid iarsin gor- tai sin. Roassar iartain oc Bretnaib fledogugwd imda isin bli&dain sin ropo nessu. Ro-h-assair assaide 1 sarthol 7 etrad 7 follach De 7 ecailse. Tanic iartain plag tedma 2 7 comerge trom na namat forro .i. na namait nua, Saxain a n-ainm- side. h-I trf longaib tra fotaib tancatar Saxain. Bretain immorro cona rig .i. Uertigern 3 rogab- sat Saxano na sid co 1 . . . menmnach amal bid do ditin a t . . . h. 4 18. Rochom6entadaigset immorro Saxain re Cruthentuaith 7 re n-G6edelo 7 roinraetar Inis Bretan uili 7 doratsat fo gein cloidem 1 7 gae a daine 2 7 a rlgu 7 a taisechu, a treun 7 a fainn, 134 EDWARD G. COX a sacairt uasa n-altore 7 nf rith nech nosaiged foras m6r iartain for Saxano. 19. Tri cinela Saxan tancatar assin Germain .i. Saxain 7 Angli 7 Iuti. e Da chinel Iutarum f Contuar 7 Uictuani .i. attrebthaig Insi Bechte, 7 11a Saxain funedcha, cine'Z h-i comair dond insi sin. D& chenel na Saxan immorro n-airtheraig g h-uile 7 namedonaig 7 na Saxain funeta. D'Anglis immorro mediterreni .i. luchtCafri Ebr6c 7 Or- thon imbri. Dib-side na toisig robatar resind longis .i. Orsa 7 Egist 1 da mac Uectgilsi meic Guicthe meic Guecta meic Uicta meic Uechta meic Uoden meic Frelub. h-Eres Phelaig co mm6r ind inbaid sin ac fuasnad Insi Bretan co tanic German n6eb cend na h-ecailsi Altadoren- sis 7 Lupus Tricasenus a Franccaib co rochobra- tar inn [in]is trf rath 7 mirbuilib 2 7 dochuaid Ger- man fein h-i tosach in chatha la Bretnu 7 ro- raidset na sl6ig ic dul isin cath tre" forchongru in chleirig Alleluia, 7 rotheithset na namait fo chetoir. Doratsat Bretain do dermat cech olc fuaratar 7 each digail, con^rrachtatar catha 7 debtha occo fein, 7 nitharsath-onoirdonasruith- ib robatar occo 7 dochoid dimmus 7 olc intib co r-rici a sacartu 7 a clerchu, 7 ni leictis bretha na firindi do faisnis dona Saxanaib robatar cid na n-6entaid fein, acht nocho derig Dla 1 a thuaith feissin ch6ru lim rofuidestar 5 in Dia e riti MS. f ritarum MS. B Leg.: na h-airtheraig. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 135 sein forcetlaide ba h-inraccu rochreitsetar. Ab incarnatione Domini d°. lxxx , u°. 20. Auric 1 in cethramad ri ar .1. 6 Auguist i r-rige in domain. Cuius anno [regni] .x°. Gregorius sedem tenuit apostolicam. C6ica hli&dan ar cet 6 thichtain Saxan cosein tanic Augustin co sochaidi do Chnstaidib do phroicept 2 brethri De do Saxanaib. doruachtatar Insi Tanatos dond leith anaer do Chantia dochuatar techta uadib co h-Edelbrect .i. ardri Saxan descirt. Is and rob6i in Cantia. 21. Rob6i immorro muinter 1 Augustin .xl. fer 7 robatar etercertaide a fFranccaib mar6en riu do muintir episcopi Arelatensis .i. Etherius 7 rl. 22. Roraidset na techta resin rig : '0 R6imh ro-n-faideg* 1 7 tucsamar degscel lind .i. flaithus cen h-airchra donafib chretit 2 Isu Crist mac De bi.' Rorecair in ri: 'Doberthar duib-si inni ricfaidthi a les co fesamar-ne ar comairle immon cretem.' Tanic clu na Cristaide a setig 3 .i. Bercta, do cheniul ri[g] Franc, ar is amlaid do-s-fuc 4 6 thustidib co rochometad smacht nemelnide na h-irse. Epscop 5 uasal h-ic afriund di each lai. Ludardus a h-ainm-side. Tanic in ri arnabarach cona maithib do immacalldaim re Augustin 7 ropritchastar Augustin d6. Ro- raidh in ri : ' Isat sochrai chetus bar m-briathra, acht noco chumcaim-se comchetfaid d6ib, acht h Leg.: ro-n-f&ided. 136 EDWARD G. COX failti chainhuarrech fogebthaidh-se co roderbor- sa bar m-briathra, 7 pritchaid do chach, ni tairmescaim-se immuib.' 23. Tuc in ri aitte d6ib isin cathraig Doruuen- sis. Lotar 1 isin cathraig croch Crist reompu co n-deilb Crist inti. Trebait isin cathraig co h-ennacc bes ceth-ecailsi na n-apstal o h-irnaig- thib gresachaib 2 6 [fjrithairib 6 h-ainib oc forcetal chaich. Rochreit sochaide in dii ssin. Fo deoig 1 rochreit in rl fein. Ro-h-airfited o bethaid glain inna chleirech. 3 . Dorat doib cum- achtai cumdaig 3 eclass inna cathrach archena. In Dorouensi i n-eclais n6eb-Martain re cath- raig amuig roattrebsat na clerigh, Bretain o chein ro-do-chumdaigset. 4 Iarsnafib-se tra dochoid Axxgustin co h-Etherius eppscop Arela- tensis amal atbert Grigoir ris, co ro-h-ordned ann corbo h-uasal-epscop do chiniud Anglorum. Iar tuidecht d6 dia thig 5 rofaid Lurint h-uasal- [s]acart 7 Petar manach do R6im do aissneis na Saxan do bith crlstaidi, 7 is h-e-sium liasal- epscop, 7 araile imchomarca do thaiscidib na h-ecailsi, 7 ni chumaic in chumri conorragba 6 . Rofaid immorro Grigoir araile le6 do thennad na creitmi .i. Millitus 7 Iustus, Paulinus 7 Ruffinianus, 7 dorat palliu na 1-laim do Augustin 6n ordaigfed epscopu, 7 tucad d6 da epscop .x. do ordugud i n-inadaib saindradhachaib .i. 1 Leg.: deoid. ^ Leg.: cleirech. k Leg.: con-da-ra-gba. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 137 epscop i 1-Lundain 7 pallium 6 Grigoir do 7 epscop h-i cathraigh Erbroic 1 7 pallium d6 Gregorio 7 atbert Grigoir na sacairt Bretem co brathardo do fomugud d6, 7 atbert Grigoir cen templu na n-idal do scailiud acht a coisecrad do Dia 7 alt6ri intib 7 tasse na n6em 7 rofaid Grigoir do Axigustin ar nach-a-ragbad diumus 7 tria imad na mirbuile dorigne Dia per eum 'ar is ri sochaide dib atbera Dia i 1-16 bratha non noui uos.' Tuctha epistli uad co h-Edilbrict dia buidechus ar gabail na h-irse 7 roahnestar m Axigustin dona h-6entadachaib. Axigustin tra dessid h-i sossud uasal-epscoip h-isin cathraig .i. Cantia, 7 rochosecair in n-eclais 6n urd Romanach, 7 rochosecair in n-eclais dorrigned la h-Edelbricht sel 6n chathraig i nn-anmaim Pettair 7 Poil, 7 tucad a h-abdaine do Petar isinn eclais sin. Cumsanait taissi Augustin cona saigthigidib 7 taissi rig Cantia 11 Petar immorro in t-abb isind ucht mara dianid ainni Anfleot 7 rof ailsig Dia a chorp 7 ro-h-adnacht isin chath- raig .i. Bononia. Elfrid immorro isind aimsir hi r-rige Nordanimbrorum (.i. 6 Umbra fo thiiaid) dorat-side cath do iEdan do rig Scot .i. cath cruaid i n-Degsastan (.i. Lapis Degsa) h-i torchair Teodball brathair Aedilfrid. 1 Leg.: Ebroic. m Leg.: roaithnestar. n Add. robaided (?) 138 EDWARD G. COX Finit primus liber. 24. Anno doniinicse incarnationis .dc. Gri- goir do h-epiltin. Roscrib Beid dia bethaid 7 dia gnimradaib 7 dia deithidin im Saxanaib. Laa n-6en dochoid in forum uenalium co n-acca 1 da macca[n] ro-ch6ema do Saxanaib and co n- gnuisib corcra 2 co mongaib buidi co cnessaib taitnemachaib. 'Can d6ib so?' ol Grigoir. 'A h-Inis Bretan,' ol na daine. 'Indatt Cristaide no indat pagandai?' ol Grigoir. 'Pagandai,' olsiat. 'Truag,' (.i. co n-osnaid), arse, 'letheid ind lochta so for seilb diabail. 3 Cid a h-ainm in cheniuil?' ar Grigoir. 'Angli,' arsiat. 'Is maith,' ol Grigoir, 'gnuisi angel leo, c6ir a rochtain 4 h-i comchrandchor angel. Cid ainm a tuaithi?' ol Grigoir. 'Deri,' olseat. 'Deri/ ol Grigoir, 'de ira eruti. Cid ainm ind rig?' ol Grigoir. 'iElde,' olsiat. 'Alleluia canfaid,' ol Grigoir, 'do molad De.' Dochuaid Grigoir co dian 5 dochum an papa 7 atbert fris forcet- laidi do chor do procept do Saxanaib '7 mad coir,' arse, 'bam erlam re dul and. 6 " Nirba comairle lasin senod. Amal rogab immorro a h-apdaine rofaid Axxgustin ut dixi. Iarsein tra rotriall Augustin na h-irse robatar oc Bret- naib do dichor immon caisc 7 a n-6entugud 7 Saxain im 6eniris 7 oenchind. Atbertatar immorro Bretnaig na bud cend doib Angustin 7 7 na h-6cntaigfitis h-ic tendad h-irsi Saxan. Atbert Augustin: 'Ar nach ail duib-si a m- A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 139 brathris, doberat cath duib-si 7 tsethaisti leo.' Rocomallad anisin. Rola Edilfrid a n-ar isind luce dianid ainm Legacester oc Bret[naib] .i. Caer Legion (.i. Ciuitos Legionum). Tancatar cleirig Bretan h-uili do airnaigthe ria laichaib iar cul in chatha iar n-aine° tredinais doib. 25. Otchondairc Edilfrid rofoi p cuccu; mili 7 da diet do chleirchib and 7 ni terna dib acht .1. .ccc. septies 1 do manchaib Bennchair namma romarbta and. 26. Anno ab incarnatione Domini .dc. iiii. Millitum do h-ordned 1 i 1-Lunnaind .i. cathair na Saxan airtherach. Tames eturru 7 Cantia. Sabinct ba flaith i 1-Lundaind fo Edilbricht 7 dorronad oc Edilbricht eclas do Ph61 apstal i 1-Lundaind. Iustus immorro ro-h-ordned in Cantia isin chathra% Dorobreus. Is inti dorigni in ri eclais do Andrias. Tri mile a Doruuerui atbath Augustin. 2 Ro-h-ordned Lurint na inad dia eis. Millitus co r-R6imh, 7 tuc tascide imda 6 Bonifait 6n phapa. 27. Anno ab incarnatione Domini dc. xui. fichi 1 immorro 6 thanic Augustin a m-Bretnw atbath Edilfricht in ri .i. in tres ri rogab 6 Chan- tia co Humbra, Celin in ri tanaise, Edilbricht in tres ri. Redualt in cethramad. Eduni in cdicedh .i. ri Rordanimbrorum, q Osualt in seised, Ossio a brathair in sechtmad. ndaine MS. p Leg.: rof6id. q Leg.: Nordanimbrorum. 140 EDWARD G. COX 28. Edilfricht tra mac Muric meic Octa mac Oric, diarbo ainm Oisc, meic Egist. Edball mac Edilbricht na h-inad 7 roleicc creitim ar in paganacht, 7 romarb Saperict 1 ri Lundaindi, foracaib-side tri maccu gentlide. Dochoid Mil- litus in t-epscop arteichedna pagandai coCantia co Lurint. 29. Dochoid Lurint 7 Iustus 1 h-i Frangcaib. Roimraid Lurint dul na degaid co rothairmescad imme ind-aislingi dia rochotail i n-eclais Petair .i. rosraigled 2 h-e ar thred Crist do thregud cen 6eghaire. thanic maten roindis dond rig. Ro-h-imeclaig in ri in comdid, 7 tucad Mellitus 7 Iustus a Francaib, acht niroleicset chuculucht Lundaindi Mellitus ar grad gentliuchta. Tar- rasair Mellitus in Cantia i n-eclais Petair. At- bath Lurint. Rogab Mellitus epscopo^i. Ius- tus i n-eclais Hirofenfe. Atbath Mellitus, Iustus na h-inad i n-ard-espoc6iti do reir in papa .i. Bonifait. Paulin 3 ind inbaid sin oc pracept do Saxanaib tu&scirt. Is e so fochund a chreitmi .i. Eduni in ri rochuinnig-side ingin Edilbricht ri Cantuariorum do mnai d6 .i. Celti- berga 4 nd Tata. Roraid a brathair Eadball na tibred 5 in ingin cristaidi acht do Christaide. Atbert Eduni na denial 6 olc ri Cristaidib acht roraid, 'Ni dfultab-sa,' ar se, 'mo bith cristaide dia coemos corbam inraice de'. 7 Tucad d6 inn ingen 7 rofaided Paulin mar6en ria. Ranic- side aidchi chase do thig ind rig. Isin aidchi sin tame araile for techtairecht diamlaigthe. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 141 Issin aidchi sin rothuisim a ben ingin d6 .i. Ernfled 7 robaisted 7 ro-h-edhpradh do Dfa dia soerad dond 6coir doronai 7 do soerad a mna. Is i do baisted ar tus do Saxanaib tuaiscirt. O'tchondairc Paulin corbo dulig menma ind rig do thairbirt i n-iris, roguidh in coimdig 1 co rothorromad a tiiaid 7 in rig. Rofailsiged do Phaulm trf faitsine 8 .i. fechtus rob6i for indarba 6 h-Edilfraid 6 righ Nordanimbrorom co n-de- chaid do thig Reduald rig Cantia for teiched 8 Edilfraid techta co Reduald co setaib ar marbad Eduni fa d6 7 fa thri. l y cath fora seilb/ ar se, 'mina marba Eduni.' 9 Roraid Reduald co mairfed Eduni. Adchuala cara do Eduni 7 roraid ris: "Tanac/ ar se, dot breith dii na coem- sat a n-dis ni duit .i. Edilfrid 7 Reduald. ' At- bert Eduni: 'Noco chumcaim-se. Rodluthus mo sith 7 in ri.' 10 Doch6id uad a chara 7 roboi (.i. Eduni) i n-dorus na palaiti co toirrsech 7 co dubach 'na suidhi for carraicc 7 ni fitir cid dognid. 30. Atchondairc duine alaind anaichnidh chuca 7 roraid ris: 'Cid ar a fuile sund at 6enur/ or se, '7 each na chotlud? Dia n-gaba mh' forcetul-sa,' 1 ar se, 'no-t-uaslaicftnd 6na dubaib 7 6n t-snim fil ort, 7 noaslaicfind for ind rig na dernai ole fritt, 7 biat 2 ri do cheniul* fein.' Roraid-som: 'Dia no-m-soera 3 ar na r Leg.: coimdid. 8 Add rofaid. * Leg.: chenluil. L42 EDWARD G. COX cuimgib-si, dog6n-sa a n-apraidh-se.' 4 Dorat an duine sin fo c6toir a boiss for a chend 7 roraid : ' Is e seo in comardha, 7 tabair dot aire 7 comaill do brethir in tan sin, 7 dena in forcetal atchluinfe ind inbaid sin/ 7 dochoid uad iardain. 31. Tanic a chara chuca 7 roraid: 'Ba cob- said. Rocumscaided u cride in rig; nl leic ind rigan olc fritt. ' 32. Rofecht in cath 7 dor . . . and 1 7 rogab Eduni ind rige. 33. Inn-araile 16 tra tanic in fer De Paulin co h-Eduni 7 dorat a laim fora mullach 7 roraid: 'In tuc in comardha sa'? ar se. Dorochair 7 se crithnaigthe 1 fo chosaib in cl&rig, 7 rochreit7 robaisted, 7 rofaid sacartu 7 mlledu do df- scailiud na n-idal robatar h-i Cair, 7 robaisted i 1-16 na case i n-eclais Petair, 7 dorat sosad epscuip do Paulin isin eclais sin .i. eclais chlar- aigh, 7 dorigne tempulm6r and iartain dochloch- aib. Atracht ireis 7 creitem co mm6r h-i Xordanimborum 7 h-icond rig, co ro-h-erail cid creitem for Erbuald for rig Saxan funedach. Ropritchastar Paulin do cheimathaig Lindifi den t£eb andes do Umbra, 7 rochreit Blaica airri na cathrach Linndocolinae. Noimtheiged 6enbenInisBretan ind inbaid sin ar m6t in t-side. 34. Honorius papa ind inbaid sin tar &s Bonifait 7 tuctha epistle uad do nertad h-irse Edune. Atbath an t-uasal-epscop Iustus. Ro- u Leg.: rocurnscaiged. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 143 gab Honorius na h-inad an coicedh. epscop ecailsi Doruuernensis .i. Augustin, Lurint, Millitus, Iustus, Honorius. Paulm roordnestar Hono- rius in Lindocolfno, 7 doch6id co R6imh 7 dorat Honorius in papa pallium d6, 7 rochind in papa cipe tan atbalad 1 epscop Doruuernensis epscop Caire do h-ordned neich na inad, 7 in fer aile masech, 2 ar na roscithaigther tria rea fata na talman co r-R6im. Rofaidhestar d&no Honorius epistle co G6edhelo do cheilebradh na case .i. co manchaib la 3 .i. co Baetan co Cronan co Colman 7 Lasrian 7 Scellan. 4 35. Dorochair tra fidune la h-Edball ri Bretan, 7 re* Penta rex Mercior[um] .i. ri cas- tra. 1 36. Anno dominicse 1 incarnationis .dexxxiii. Ara m6ra h-i S&xnaib tu&scirt tar a h-6is. Ond anbthine sein rue Paullnus Edilbercta i 1-luing co Cantia 7 ro-h-airimed co h-onorach o h-Etball 7 6 Honorio episcopo, 7 doratsat lestra imda 6ir 7 argait do thimthirech v altore De, cros 6ir 7 fitune 2 7 in cailech. h-Itat innosa in Cantia. Isin inbaid-si robaded Romanus erchonsol ecailsi Hirofensis for muir Etalda. Is don eclais sin ro-h-ordaig Paulin in pallium tucc ab [Hon-] orio. Iacob 3 immorro deochon Paulin fer eclas- tacda 7 fer n6eb 7 sui chantairechta w h-i Cair re" ciana. 4 v Leg.: thimthirecht. w Leg.: cantairechta. 144 EDWARD G. COX Translation 1. The author of this composition [is] the wise, noble priest Bede, a man [filled] with the grace of God in knowledge and piety. Bede found, however, an assistant, viz., Albinus, the very reverend abbot, the man educated by all the disciples of the learned men, Theodore, the bishop, and Hadrian, the abbot; for Albinus learned from the disciples of Gregory all that used to be done in the province of Kent and in the neighboring lands, and what he got from the written histories or from the tradition of the elders. And Albinus explained to Bede all which Nothelm, the noble priest of the church of London, related to him, either by letters or by conversations. The same Nothelm brought an epistle from Gregory . . . from Rome to the Saxons. Them Albinus taught so that they might be selected for the work of the holy Bede. Thus from the beginning of the history to the [time of] the faith of the Saxons, Bede learned and gathered from the writings of the ancients here and there. Moreover Daniel, bishop of the West Saxons, sent to him in letters the his- tory of his own race, and of the South Saxons and the Isle of Wight. 2. As to the beginning of the faith among the Mercians he learned that it was through the two noble priests, Cedd and Cedda, and that through them the faith of the East Saxons was renewed A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 145 [he learned] from the brothers of the monastery that was founded by them, viz., Lestingham. All that used to be done in the province of the East Saxons, a part of it came from the tradi- tions of the ancients, and another part from the narrative of the abbot Esius. All that used to be done in behalf of the faith of Christ in the province of Lindsey he learned from the living voice of the noble priest Cimbericht. The traditions moreover of the Northumbrians, i.e. the histories of the North Saxons, many were they from whom he got [them], and he brought them himself. 3. Britania insola occiani cui quondam Albion nomen erat [is] 800 miles in length and 200 in breadth ; in circumference, however, 4875 miles. [There are] twenty-eight cities in it, and five languages, viz., English, British, Pictish, Gaelic, and Latin. 4. Anno .xl. natiuitatem Christi, i.e., forty years before the birth of Christ, Gaius Julius came to Britain, and he left [there] the first time his ships and his people, and Labienus, the tribune. At last he took pledges of Britain. 5. Claudius Caesar, the fourth king after Julius, came to Britain, and he reached the Orkneys. 6. Ab incarnacione Domini .clvi. Marcus Antonius with his brother, Lucius Aurelius Commodus [became king]. The faith [was pre- served] in Britain. Ab incarnatione Domini 146 EDWARD G. COX .clxxx. ix. Severus Africanus Tripolitanus came to Britain. Leptis [was] the name of that Afri- can city. [He was] the seventeenth king after Julius. The Saxon wall was built by him. He died in York. 7. He had two sons, viz., Bassianus and Geta. That one [i.e., the former] held the rule under the name of Antonius. 8. Ab incarnatione Domini .cclxxxui. Dio- cletian [was] the thirty-third king after Julius, and Maximian came to Britain. In their time Carausius held the rule of Britain seven years, until Allectus killed him; and he held the rule three years until Asclepiodotus killed him; and he was king ten years. 9. Diocletian [was] persecuting the Chris- tians in the eastern part of the world and Max- imian in the western part. In this persecution there suffered St. Alban and Aaron and Julius, chief men of the City of Legions. In this time died Constantine, king of Britain; [he was] the father of Constantine, son of Helena, i.e., the concubine of Constantine. Eutropius wrote that Constantine first held the rule in Britain. 10. Then his father held the rule of France and Spain during the lifetime of Diocletian. 1 1 . Ab incarnatione .ccclxui. Gratianus [was] the fortieth king from Julius. In this time a certain Maximus held the rule in Britain. 12. Ab incarnatione Domini .cccxciiii. Ar- cadius, the son of Theodosius, the forty-third A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 147 king after Augustus, [succeeded] to the rule of the world. Pelagius, a Briton, adopted heresy and destroyed the Christians. 13. Ab incarnatione Domini .cccc. uii. Forty-four years. Two years before the de- struction of Rome by Alaric, king of the Goths, Gratianus was set up ruler by the Britons, and was killed afterwards. Constantine was after- wards made king by virtue of the name rather than by virtue of fitness, until Count Constan- tine killed him by order of Honorius. His son, Constans, the monk, came and held the rule. 14. After that then Rome was destroyed millisimo .c°. xF. uii . [i.e., in the 1147th] year after it was founded. That is the end of the Roman rule over Britain; 470 years after the time that Julius took Britain the Romans with- drew their military forces, and they left neither youth nor people of prowess there, and the Ro- mans took away [their forces], and they left nothing at all of themselves. Therefore the Gaels and the Picts, the two neighboring races, raided and plundered them. One was gone to the Romans with letters from the Britons ask- ing for help, and a brave military force came to them and a wall was built by them across the island [as a protection] against the Picts and the Gaels, and after that they went home. At once the enemies came, and they crushed the Britons as beavers [do] a garden. Messengers were sent again, and a legion came to the aid of the 148 EDWARD G. COX Britons, and they fought against the enemies of the Britons, and the wall that was built by Severus was restored by them. The stones that time were seven feet in width and twelve feet in height ; its length [was] from sea to sea. [There were] many towers on it, and it was strengthened as if they would not come again [i.e., did not in- tend to return] to help them, and they departed. [When] the Gaels and the Picts heard [of it] they attacked them as wolves [do] sheep. Ab in- carnatione Domini .cccc. xxui. Theodosius Iunior post Honorium[was]the forty-fourth king after Augustus. 15. Palladius [was sent] to Ireland by pope Celistinus. In the thirty- third [year] of that Theodosius an epistle was brought in this word [i.e., beginning thus] from the Britons to the consul whose name was Coetius: "Nos repel- lunt barbari ad mare, [mare] repellit ad bar- baros. Inter haec oriuntur duo genera f unerum, id est aut iugulamur aut mergimur. " But as a matter of fact the Romans took no notice. It was natural after that time that Bledla and Attila, two kings of the Huns, were devastating Rome and they even destroyed all Europe, so that a great famine came afterwards. 16. Meanwhile a multitude of the Britons died of the famine after being plundered of all their food by the Picts and the Gaels. 17. After that famine came plenty of acorns and fruit. Then abundant feasting increased A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 149 among the Britons in that following year. The more easily therefore increased lust and passion, and denying of God and the church. After that came a grievous pestilence, and a heavy assault of the enenxy came upon them, viz., the new enemies, Saxons their names. In three long ships of war then the Saxons came upon them. Meanwhile the Saxons na sid (?) took Britain with its king, Vortigern, [full(?)] vali- antly as if it were for a protection of their [peoples (?)]. 18. Meanwnile the Saxons united with the Pict s and the Gaels, and they plundered the whole of Britain, and they put to the edge of the sword and the spear their people, their kings, and their chiefs, their strong and their weak, their priests above the altar, and there was found no one after that who could preach the true knowl- edge to the Saxons. 19. Three tribes of Saxons came from Ger- many, viz., the Saxons, the Angles, and the Jutes. [There are] two tribes of the Jutes, the people of Kent, and of the Isle of Wight, i.e., the inhabitants of the Isle of Wight, [including] the West Saxons, a tribe [dwelling] opposite to that island. Two tribes of Saxons moreover, all the East Saxons and the Midland and the West Saxons. Of the Angles the mediterreni, i.e., the people of York, and the Northumbrians. Their chiefs over the ships were Horsa and Hengist, two sons of Victgilsus, son of Guicthe, 150 EDWARD G. COX son of Guecta, son of Vitta, son of Vecta, son of Woden, son of Freo7>olaf . The heresy of Pela- gius at that particular time [was] disturbing Britain very much until holy Germanus, head of the Church of Auxerre, and Lupus, of Troyes, came from the Franks, so that they helped the island through grace and miracles; and Ger- manus himself went into the front of the battle on the side of the Britons, and the host going into battle, through the help of the clerics, said Hallelujah! and the enemy fled at once. The Britons forgot every evil and every punish- ment they had endured, so that battles and quar- rels rose among themselves, and they did not give honor to the sages that were among them, and contempt and evil entered into them even to their priests and their clerics, and they would not permit the judgments of truth to be told even to the Saxons that were in alliance with themselves. But God did not abandon his own people, or rather God sent teachers who were worthy to be believed. 20. Ab incarnatione Domini d°. lxxx°. u°. Maurice, the fifty-fourth king after Augustus [succeeded] to the rule of the world. Cuius anno [regni] x°. Gregorius sedem tenuit apos- tolicam. [It was] 150 years from the arrival of the Saxons up to the time Augustine came with a multitude of Christians to preach the word of God to the Saxons. When they reached the Isle of Thanet on the east side of Kent, they A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 151 sent messengers to Ethelbert, i.e., the high-king of the South Saxons. At that time he was in Kent. 21. The people of Augustine moreover were forty men [in number]; there were interpreters from the Franks with them, [who were] of the household of the bishop of Aries, i.e., Aetherius, etc. 22. The messengers spoke before the king: "We have been sent from Rome and we have brought good tidings with us, viz., an indestruc- tible kingdom to those that believe in Jesus Christ, the son of the living God." The king replied: "All that you will need will be given to you until we know our counsel about the faith." The fame of the Christians came from his wife Bertha, of the race of the king of the Franks ; for thus he received her from her parents, that she should keep uncorrupted the power of the faith. A noble bishop [was] offering mass for her each day. Liudhard was his name. The king came on the morrow with his nobles to converse with Augustine, and Augustine preached to him. The King said: "Your words are beautiful indeed, but I cannot [yet] assent to them; but you will get a gracious welcome until I can test your words, and do ye preach to every one, [for] I shall not hinder you." 23. The king gave them a dwelling-place in the city of Doruvernis. They went into the 152 EDWARD G. COX city [with] the cross of Christ before them bear- ing the image of Christ on it. They dwell[t] in the city blamelessly in the manner of the first church of the apostles in constant prayers, vigils, fastings, teaching every one. A multi- tude in that place believed. At last the king himself believed. He was attracted by the clean life of the clerics. He gave to them be- sides permission to build the church of the city. The clerics dwelt in the church of St. Martin in Doruvernis outside the city. The Britons long ago founded it. After these things then Augustine went to Aetherius, bishop of Aries, as Gregory had said to him that he should be ordained there to be archbishop to the English race. After he came home he sent Laurentius, a noble priest, and Peter, a monk, to Rome to tell him that the Saxons were Christians, and he himself archbishop, and [to ask] other questions concerning the gifts of the church which brevity cannot admit. Gregory accordingly sent others with them to strengthen the faith, viz., Millitus and Justus, Paulinus and Rufinianus, and he gave the pall in his hand to Augustine, that is to say, he should ordain bishops. Twelve bishops were brought to him to be ordained in special places, viz., a bishop in London to whom a pall was given by Gregory, and a bishop in the city of York to whom a pall was given by Greg- ory. Gregory said that the priests of the Brit- ons should be received in brotherly fashion by A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 153 him, and Gregory said that the temples of the idols should not be destroyed, but that they should be consecrated to God, and the altars in them and the relics of the saints ; and Gregory sent [word] to him that pride should not seize him through the host of miracles that God has done per eum, "for God will say to a multitude of them on the day of judgment, non noui uos." Letters were brought from him to Ethelbert, thanking him for accepting the faith, and he ordered Augustine to unite with him. Then Augustine sat in the seat of the archbishop in the city, i.e., Canterbury, and he consecrated the church after the manner of the Romans, and he consecrated the church that was built by Ethelbert a distance from the city in the name of Peter and of Paul, and its abbotship was given to Peter in that church. The relics of Augustine rest [there] with his successors, and the relics of the king of Kent. Peter, the abbot, however, [was drowned] in the bosom of the sea which is called Anfleot, and God showed his body, and it was buried in the city of Boulogne. Ethelfrid at this time [governed] in the kindgom of the Northumbrians (i.e., from the Humber north ward) ; he gave battle to Aedan, king of the Scots, i.e.,ahard battle at Degsastan (i.e., Lapis Degsa), in which Theobald, brother of Ethel- frid, fell. 154 EDWARD G. COX Finit primus liber. 24. Anno dominicse incarnationis .dc. Greg- ory died. Bede has written of his life, of his deeds, and of his care for the Saxons. One day he went in forum uenalium and saw there two very fair lads of the Saxons, with ruddy countenances, yellow hair, and pleasing skins. "Whence are these?" said Gregory. "From Britain," said the people. "Are they Chris- tians or pagans?" said Gregory. "Pagans," said they. "A pity" (with a sigh), said he, "that such people should be in the possession of the devil. What is the name of the race?" said Gregory. "Angles," said they. "It is well," said Gregory, "they have the countenances of angels; it is right that they should attain to the heritage of angels. What is the name of their country?" said Gregory. "Deira," said they. "Deira," said Gregory, "de ira eruti. What is the name of the king?" said Gregory. "Aelli," said they. "Allelujah they will sing to the praise of God." Then Gregory went quickly to the pope and said to him that teachers should be sent to preach to the Saxons, "and if it is right," said he, "I shall be ready to go there." [Such] was not the plan of the synod. As soon as he assumed the papacy he sent Augustine ut dixi. After that then Augustine attempted to remove the beliefs held by the Britons con- cerning Easter, and to unite them and the Saxons A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 155 in one faith and [under] one head. The Britons said, however, that they would not have Augus- tine for a head, and they would not consent to the strengthening of the faith of the Saxons. Augustine said, "Since you do not desire bro- thership with them, they will give you battle and you will fall by them. ' ' That thing was ful- filled. Ethelfrid made a slaughter of them in the place that is called [City of Legions by the English, but] Legacaestir by the Britons, i.e., Caer Legion (Ciuitas Legionum) . All the clerics of Britain came to pray for their heroes in the rear of the battle, after having fasted three days. 25. Ethelfrid saw [them] and he sent to them; twelve hundred clerics [were there], and only fifty of them escaped. Three hundred sevens of the monks of Bangor alone were killed there. 26. Anno ab incarnatione Domini .dc. iiii. Mellitus was ordained in London, the city of the East Saxons. The Thames [is] between them and Kent. Sabert was prince in London under Ethelbert. A church was built in London to the Apostle Paul by Ethelbert. Justus moreover was ordained in Kent in the city of Dorubrevis. There the king built a church to [the apostle] Andrew. Three thousand (?) from Doruvernis Augustine died. Laurentius was ordained in his place after him. Mellitus [went] to Rome, and brought many gifts from Boniface, the pope. 156 EDWARD G. COX 27. Anno ab incarnatione Domini .dc. xui. the twenty [-first year] after the time Augustine came to the Britons, Ethelbert, the king, died. He was the third king who ruled from Kent to the Humber, Caelin [being] the second king, Ethelbert the third, Redwald the fourth, Edwin, king of the Northumbrians, the fifth, Oswald the sixth, and Oswy, his brother, the seventh. 28. Ethelbert then [was] the son of Irminric, the son of Octa, the son of Oeric, whose name was Oisc, the son of Hengist. Eadball, son of Ethelbert, [ruled] in his place, and he abandoned the faith for paganism. He killed Sabert, king of London, who left three heathen sons. Mel- lit us fled [from] the pagans toLaurentius in Kent. 29. Laurentius and Justus went to the Franks. Laurentius resolved to follow them until he was hindered by a dream, [which came to him] while he slept in the church of Peter, viz., he was scourged for leaving Christ's sheep without a shepherd. When morning came he told [it] to the king. The king feared the Lord, and Mellitus and Justus were brought from France, but the people of London did not let Mellitus [come] to them for love of heathenism. Mellitus remained in Kent in the church of Peter. Laurentius died. Mellitus assumed the episcopacy. Justus remained in the church of Rochester. Mellitus died; Justus [was chosen] to the archbishopric in his place according to the will of the pope, Boniface. Paulinus at that A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 157 time [was] preaching to the North Saxons. This is the occasion of their faith, viz., Edwin, the king, sought the daughter of Ethelbert, King of Kent, for theis wife, i.e., Ethelberg or Tata. Her brother, Eadball, said that he would not give the Christian daughter but to a Chris- tian. Edwin replied he would not do evil to the Christians, but he said : "I shall not refuse, ' ' said he, " to be a Christian, if I am able to be- come worthy of it." The daughter was brought to him, and Paulinus was sent along with her. He arrived at the house of the king the night of Easter. That night another came on a pre- tended message. On that night his wife bore him a daughter, Eanfled, and she was baptized and was offered to God for his absolution from the wrong he had done, and for the delivery of his wife. She is the first of the North Saxons that was baptized. Paulinus saw that it was difficult for the mind of the king to accept the faith; he prayed the Lord that he would visit his people and the king. It was shown to Paul- inus through a vision, viz., one time he was ex- iled by Ethelf rid, the king of the Northumbrians, and he fled to the house of Redwald, king of Kent. Ethelfrid sent messengers to Redwald twice and thrice with treasures [to persuade the king] to kill Edwin. "War on his possessions," said he, "if he does not kill Edwin." Redwald replied that he would kill Edwin. A friend of Edwin's heard [it] and said : "I have come," 158 EDWARD G. COX said he, "to take you where the pair, viz., Ethelfrid and Redwald, can do nothing to you." Edwin said: "I cannot. I have made a compact with the king." His friend went away, and Edwin was sitting on a rock at the door of the palace, sad and sorrowful, and he knew not what he should do. 30. He saw [coming] toward him a beauti- ful stranger, and he [the latter] said to him: "Why are you here alone," said he, "and every one asleep? If you take my teaching," said he, "I should set you free from the gloomy thoughts and the anxiety that are on you, and I should prevail on the king that he would do no evil to you; and you will be king of your own tribe." He replied: "If you free me of these cares, I shall do what you say." The man placed his hand at once on his head and said : ' ' This is the sign, and take heed and keep your word, and do the teaching you will hear at that time," and he went away after that. 31. His friend came to him and said: "Be steadfast. The king's heart has been moved; the queen did not permit evil [to be done] to you." 32. The battle was fought . . . and Edwin obtained the rule. 33. On a certain day then the man of God, Paulinus, came to Edwin and put his hand on his head and said: "Do you understand this sign?" said he. He fell trembling at the feet A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 159 of the cleric, and he believed and he was bap- tized. And he sent the priests and the soldiers to destroy the idols that were in York, and he was baptized on Easter Day in the church of Peter. And he gave the seat of bishop to Paul- inus in that church, i.e., the boarded church, and he built a great temple there afterwards of stone. The faith and belief increased greatly in Northumberland and with the king, so that he even enjoined the faith on Earpwald, king of the West Saxons. Paulinus preached to the province of Lindsey, the south side of the Hum- ber, and Blaecca, the governor of the city of Lincoln, believed. At that time a woman used to walk [the length of] Britain by herself be- cause of the peace. 34. Honorius [became] pope at that time after Boniface, and letters were brought from him to strengthen the faith of Edwin. The archbishop, Justus, died. In his place Honorius governed, the fifth bishop of the church of Doruvernis, i.e., Augustine, Laurentius, Mel- litus, Justus, and Honorius. Paulinus or- dained Honorius in Lincoln. And he [the lat- ter] went to Rome, and Honorius, the pope, gave him the pall. The pope determined that whatever time the bishop of Doruvernis should die the bishop of York should ordain some one in his place, and the other man besides (?), so that he would not be wearied by the long stretch of the world to Rome. Honorius more. 1(30 EDWARD G. COX over sent a letter to the Gaels concerning cele- brating Easter, i.e., to the monks of Iona,viz., Baethanus, Cromanus, Columbanus, Laistrianus and Scellanus. 35. Then Edwin fell by Eadball, king of the Britons, and before Penda, rex Merciorum, i.e., king of Chester (?). 36. Anno dominicse incarnationis .dcxxxiii. After him a great slaughter [was made] among the North Saxons. Paulinas bore Ethelberg out of that storm in a ship to Kent, and he was honorably received by Eadball and by Honorius, the bishop, and they gave many vessels of gold and of silver for the service of God's altar, a cross of gold, and ... of Edwin, and the chalice. They are now in Kent. At that time Romanus, proconsul of the church of Rochester, was drowned in the Italian sea. In that church Paulinus bestowed the pall he received from Honorius. James accordingly, a deacon of Paulinus's, a churchman and a holy man, an instructor of singing in York a long time. NOTES AUTHORITIES CITED Accallam na Senorach, Ir. Texte, 4. Series I. Heft, ed. by W. Stokes, 1900. Alt-celtischer Sprachschatz, Alfred Holder, Leipzig. Archceologia Cambrensis, London. Atkinson, Glossary to Passions and Homilies from Lebor Breac, 1887. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 161 Contributions to Irish Lexicography , Kuno Meyer, A-Dno., 1906. De Hibernicis Vocabulis, J. Vendryes, 1902. Eriu, Journal of the School of Irish Learning, Dublin. Felire Oengusa, ed. W. Stokes, 1880. F. M. = Four Masters, Annals of, ed. O'Donovan, 1848, 1851. Goidelica, W. Stokes, 1872. Handbuch des Alt-Irischen, R. Thurneysen, 1909. L. L. = Lebor Laignech, Book of Leinster, Facsimile, Dublin, 1880. L. U. = Lebor na h-Uidre. Facsimile, Dublin, 1870. Lives of Saints, from the Book of Lismore, W. Stokes, 1890. Philological Society's Transactions, London. Revue Celtique, Paris. Saltair na Rann, ed. Stokes, 1883. Senchus Mor, i-iv, Dublin, 1865-1879. Sg. = The Glosses on the St. Gall Priscian, in Thesaurus Palaio-Hibernicus, ii. Tdin Bo Cualnge, Ir. Texte, ed. Windisch, 1905. The refer- ences are to the Glossary. Thesaurus Palaio-Hibernicus, W. Stokes and J. Strachan, 1901-3. Ur-Keltischer Sprachschatz, W. Stokes, ed. A. Bezzenberger, 1894. Wtb. = W6rterbuch, Ir. Texte, Windisch, 1880. Wb. = Wurzburg Glosses on the Pauline Epistles, in Thesauros Palaio-Hibernicus, I. Zeitschrift fur Celtische Philoloaie. Halle a. S. §1. 1. h-uasal-sacart, lit., "noble priest." Does it mean anything more than "sanctus presbyter?" Cf. ixasal-epscop, "archbishop," §23, and uasal- athair, "patriarch," Wind. Wtb. 2. fuair. For a detailed explanation of the etymology of this verb, together with its corresponding pas- sive form frith, see Strachan, Phil. Soc. Trans., 1891-94, 292. 3. in t-ab. The nom. form seems to have usurped the place of the ace. abbaid. 162 EDWARD G. COX 4. in fer ro-h-orcthe trisna h-uile disciplu is, as Meyer points out in Zeit.f. Celt. Phil., ii, 321, a misreading of "per omnia doctissimus." ro- has here a superlative force. 5. rognithe. The prefix of the imperfect should be do-. 6. anafiiair, "what he got." Old Ir. i n- "wherein" and a n- "all that" fell together during the Mid. Ir. period, producing ina n-, which inter- changed with ana n-. See Pedersen, Zeit. /. Celt. Phil., ii, 381. Cf. a n-apraidh-se, §30. 7. Albinus explained to Bede, etc. The scribe has not properly rendered the original. Nothelm conveyed the messages and conversations from Albinus to Bede. 8. epistil 6 Griguir nach. Here something is left out. 9. B6id ndibh, "the holy Bede." See ndeb-Martain, §23, where ndeb is used as a prefix meaning "Saint," after the fashion of Latin. §2. 1. Iris immorro intinscanta, etc. The sentence is so incomplete that the syntax is unintelligible. Cf. Bede, "Qualiter ueroperministeriumCeddi- et Ceadda religiosorum Christi sacerdotum, uel prouincia Merciorum ad fidem Christi, . . . peruenit," etc. 2. rafoglaim, "he learned." Cf. with rofogluind, §1 ; the present form may be a slip for rafoglaind, or may be the later denominative form. The a of ra- comes from ro-a-, the infixed pronoun of the 3rd sg. masc, serving as anticipatory ace. to the clause that follows. 3. sochaide. The copula is is omitted, a recurring construction with our scribe. §3. 1. Britania (Brittania in Bede), is the name given by the Romans to the land conquered by the people whom they first called Britanni. After they had conquered a part of Britain, the Romans fell into the habit of using the kindred form BrlltOnes, which is in accord with the pronun- ciation of the name on the part of the Brythonic ■v A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 163 Celts, as is evidenced by the forms Welsh Brython, "a Welshman or Briton," Brythoneg, "the Brythonic language," Brethonec, "the Brythonic language, Cornish," etc. But the Old Irish word for both the people and the land was the plural Bretain, which equates with Brittani. Hence the Romans must have learned the first name from a Goidelic people in Gaul. The Welsh Prydain goes back to *Pretanis or *Pritanis, which, in the language of the P-Celts, corresponds to *Qrtanis. For an illumi- nating discussion of these names see Rhys, Phil. Soc. Trans, iii, vol. 1891-94, 114-117; D'Ar- bois de Jubainville, Rev. Celt., xiii, 398 ff. §3. 2. fo h-ocht cethrachat. It is necessary to insert cet, "hundred," between ocht and cethrachat in order to bring the number up to 48 hundreds, which plus the seventy-five makes the required number 4875. 3. cuic bMai, "five languages." Older form of berla is be'lra. According to Senchus Mor, iii, 88, 1, the four chief languages (primberlai) are Greek, Hebrew, Latin, and Goidelic; berlai bdin (Sen. Mor, i, 16, 18), "the bright language," is a descriptive term for Christianity; and berla fine, "Fenian language," is the name of the lan- guage in which the most ancient laws were writ- ten {Sen. Mor, ii, 32). Bearla to-day, in Mod. Ir., always means the English language. bSrla Cruithnech, "the Pictish tongue," a people whose name and origin are an eternal exercise to the mind. In descent the name Cruithnech harks back to* Qrtanicos (see under Britania) . Rhys derives the name from cruth, "form," in Welsh pryd; Stokes refers the Irish word cruithnecht "wheat," to the root *qrt. Stokes, Ur-Kelt. Sprach.; MacBain, Gaelic Diet., and the references under Britania. Goedelg, the language, and Gdedel, Goidel, of the people. The Welsh form is Gwyddel, the Hit EDWARD G. COX ur-Celt. form Gaidelo-s from a root ghddh, Eng., "good?" Stokes postulates Goidelos, Geidelos, which Bezzenberger compares to Gaul. Geidumni, and Stokes to Lat. hoedus. See Stokes, Ur-Kelt. Sprach., 1894. Bede employs the Latin names Anglorum, Brettonum, Scottorum, Pictorum, Latinorum. §4. 1. co farcaib Labienus. Co the conj. "until," "so that," is beginning to be reduced to mere sequence. §5. 1. iar n-Iuil, "after Julius." The reckoning of the emperors should be according to Augustus, as in Bede. §6. 1. CairAbroic, "York," Latin Eburacum. InAnnals Four Masters (A.D. 938) it occurs as Cairabroc; in our text it sometimes is written merely Cair. The full Cymric designation for York was Caer Afrawc. The Irish cathir, "city," corresponds to both cader and caer; hence Latin castra appeared in Welsh at times as *catera and at times as *casera. §7. 1. Ba sein rogabh in rige. Sein may be a corruption, as Dr. Bergin suggested, of e-sein, i.e., e-seom the 3d pers. pron. plus emphasizing pron. Or it may be a form of sin, demon, pron. "that." See Glossarial Index under sain. §8. 1. conidromarb, "until A. killed him." For co-n-did- ro-marb. §9. 1. Cathrach Legionum, i.e., the "City of Legions," viz., Caerleon-on-Usk; the name was also ap- plied to Chester. §12. 1. MacTheolhois, "Theodosius." In accordance with Irish linguistic laws, the final -ius, us, of Latin names are dropped. The second th shows that at this period aspirated t was not regarded as silent. Note the following Norse and Old E. names from the Annals: Amlaidhi, TF 222, Icel. AmloSi; Barith, TF 873, AU 880, FM 878, Barid, AU 913; Icel. BdrSr; Adulslan, AU 936, O.E., AZthelstan; Adulph, AC/ 857, O. E. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 165 Mhelwulf; Eanfrith, Tig., 600, O. E., Eanfrith, etc. See Stokes, Phil. Soc. Trans., 1888-90, 418 ff. The rhymes in the Felire Oengusa are also indicative: Aug. 7, fethis: Effis; Dec. 9, chlithi: Liffi. Here th as in thing. 2. Pilagius Brit do gabail ersi. The use of the verbal noun do gabail for the pret. rogab is a construction unfamiliar to me. So also in §24, Grigoir do h-epiltin for Grigoir atbath. Perhaps it is a locution employed in indirect dis- course. §13. 1. Cethri bliadna .xl. Instead of "forty-four years" one should read "the forty-fourth king from Augustus." 2. resin de-bliadan togla Roma as it stands is not clear. The sense is "two years before the taking of Rome." 3. in choro for in chdru, an adverbial locution formed from the compar. of cdir, "proper," with the dat. of the article. Hence "more properly," "rather." See choru Urn, §19, "more properly with me," 'in my opinion"? §14. 1. Dochuas, "it was gone," i.e., "one went," 3rd sg. perf. pret., to tiagu. The impersonal use of the passive is rare in Old Ir. 2. Rofditte, 3rd pi. perf. pret. pass., "were sent," of fdidim? If na can be taken as the ace. pi. of the article (as in Old Ir.), then the verb must be regarded as 3rd pi. pret. Cf. rofaidi, 3rd sg. s-pret., Salt, na Rann, 2600. 3. The measurements are wrongly given: Bede, eight feet wide and twelve feet high. 4. amal na tistais doris, ''as though they would not come again." The negative which in Old Ir. should follow amal, when used in the sense of "as though," is ni. After a negative simple verbs omit the particle no- of the secondary tenses (Strachan). 5. amalchono alia Jo chairib, lit., "like wolves upon sheep. Chairib should be chairchib. 166 EDWARD G. COX §15. 1. dochum n-Erenn. According to Rhys and Win- disch, from *Iveriu, older *PiuSr&-, -o, from piveria. D'Arbois de Jubainvillo: lugrlnos, nom. *Iu8rS},u, ace. IuSrinnen, Old Ir. Eriu, dat. Erin, ace. Erinn from *Iverinnen; Mid Ir., nom. and ace. Eri (hence Ire of Ireland). Welsh Iwerddun (dd for j). Latinized forms: Hiberni, Hibernia. See Holder, Alt-Celt. Sprach., under *Iveriu. 2. Coetium. The name of the consul was Aetius. 3. na n-Umuneta, gen. pi., "of the Huns"; Bede, Hunorum. This form of the name I have not seen elsewhere. §17. 1. assaide, "the easier of it." Formed from assu, the compar. of asse, assa, "easy," and prep, pron. de, "of it." Cf. essaiti, Wind. Tdin. A less possible interpretation is to regard it as being made up of a, prep, "from," and the anaphoric pron. suide, "this"; hence "from this," Cf. lassuide, "by this," Wb. 31b8. For the gemination of s after an uninfiected word see Thurn. Handb., p. 150. 2. pldg tedma, lit., "a plague of a pestilence." 3. Uerligern, Bede, Uurtigernus, the correct form (Rhys). The word means "supreme lord," and comes from *Uuor-tegerno-s. In Welsh it became Gwrtheyrn (Gwrthegern), and in Middle Irish Fortchern, Foirtchern. According to Nennius, he gave his name to a district in Rad- norshire, Gwarthrynion. See Rev. Celt., xxiii, 220; xxix, 301. Florence of Worcester, Wyrt- georni. 4. Perhaps Ian menmnach and a tuath. §18. 1. cloidem, older claideb, modern claidheamh. In the historical tales of LU and LL the prefer- ence is for claidch, cf. Wind. Wtb. and Tdin, Meyer, Contr.; in the Pass. Horn, of LB for cloidem. Cf. Atk. I have no- data for deter- mining when asp. m came to stand for «;-sound of asp. b final. Cf . na ndem, §23, for similar in- stance of m for asp. b. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 167 2. ddine for ddini, ace. pi. of duine. The relation of the two radical syllables is not clear. Strachan proposes an original collective feminine *doiniq or the like, meaning "mankind," which took the place of the plural of duine. Cf. Rev. Celt., xx, 198. Brugmann traces ddini back to an ur-dheuonio. In explaining why duine does not appear in the plural and ddini not in the singu- lar, he postulates that originally duine denoted man collectively, and that a plural form was called into being only after the signification of an individual was reached. If duine at first meant only the mass, then naturally its plural originally referred to the mass. Ddini, then, was the necessary complement when individ- uals were meant, and remained so even after duine itself had shrunk to the individual. See Zeit.f. celt. Phil., iii, 595 ff. §19. 1. In the genealogy of Hengist and Horsa, the scribe inserts two ancestors not mentioned by Bede, Guicthe meic Guecta. These seem to be mere variations of Uicta meic Uechta. The citation of Frelub as the ancestor of Woden should be compared with the A. S. Chronicle, 449 Laud, 547 Parker. On an epitaph of Vetta f(ilhis) Victi, see Arch. Cambr., July 1890, p. 234. 2. trl rath 7 mirbuilib. The latter word is an instance of an ace. pi. going over into the dat. after a preposition , — the reverse of the usual proce, dure in Mid. Ir. 3. rotheitset for rotheichset, from techim "I flee." §19. 4. nocho derig Dia. In Old Ir. the negative used in independent clauses is nicon, which aspirates. See also noco chumcaim-se, §22. The verb used here is 3rd sg. pres., enclitic of do-erig, from di-ess-rSg-, "he deserts," whereas one would expect the perf. pret. doreracht. 5. rofuidestar. Along with the deponent form is used also the active rofdid. §20 1. Auric, a mistake for Mauric, i. e., Mauricius, the emperor. 168 EDWARD G. COX 2. do phroicept, vb. noun of pridchim, "I preach," from Latin prceceptum. For the shortening of the vowel in pridchim from Latin prcedico, cf. the loans ceist, Lat. qucestio; demon, Lat. dcemon. §21. 1. muinter, "people," "household." Mid. Ir. texts present the word under a great variety of spell- ings. It is usually regarded as an early loan from Lat. monasterium, passing through the forms monater- and moniter-. See Thurn. Handb., p. 517. But D'Arbois de Jubainville connects it with Lat. manu-tera-, "he who is under the hand," i. e., 'under the authority of.' See Rev. Celt., xxv, 2. §22. 1. ronfdideg (a mistake for ro-n-fdided) , "we have been sent." With passive forms of the verb infixed pronouns of the 1st and 2nd persons serve as the subject of the verb. 2. chrelit. The aspiration indicates that the verb is relative; but the specific relative form of the verb not employed in this text. 3. Tdnic clu na Crlstaide a sttig. One would expect assa setig, "the fame of the Christians came from his wife." 4. do-s-fuc for ro-s-fuc. 5. Ro-, prefixed to cpd. verbs is found only a couple of times in enclitic forms in the Old Ir. Glosses. Later it became more common . Strachan, Phil. Soc. Trans., 1895-98, 137. 6. Epscop, from Lat. episcopus. The word, like ap- stal from Lat. apostolus, shows in the syncopa- tion the effect of the strong stress accent of Old Ir. §23. 1. Lotar isin calhraig. Instead of the narrative pret. lotar, should not the perf . pret. docuatar be used here? 2. 6 h-drnaigthib gresachaib. As a rule, the dat. pi. of adjectives is uninflected in this text, with the exception of those which end in a gutteral -ch. One may infer that this gutteral sound had a certain preservative tendency. The loss of A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 169 the inflectional ending of this case had its start- ing-point in Old Ir. See Vendryes, Gramm., p. Ill; Thurn. Handb., p. 280. 3. cumachtai cumdaig, lit., "power of building." 4. rodochumdaigset, 3rd pi. s-pret. of cumdaigim, "I found," with -do- (for -da-) infixed fem. pron. The verb has gone over from the deponent inflec- tion to the active. The verb is a formation from cumdach, vb. noun of conutuinc, "he builds." Ro-, prefixed to cpd. verbs is found only a couple of times in enclitic forms in the Old Ir. Glosses. Later it became more common. Strachan, Phil. Soc. Trans., 1895-98, 137. 5. dia thig, "to his house." With this Mid. Ir. form cf. the Old Ir. form dia taig, "to their house," §14. 6. ni chumaic in chumri conorragba in Old Ir. would appear as ni cumaing in chuimre condaragba. The second verb resolves itself into con-da-ro- gaba from con-gaibim, the 3rd sg. pres. subj. with -da- infixed pron. 3rd pi., and -ro- of possi- bility. 7. ar nacharagbad diumus, "that pride should not seize him." The full form of the verb is nach- a-ro-gabad, 3rd sg. pret. subj., with infixed pron. a, "him," after nach and -ro- of purpose. §24. 1. con-acca, for older con- accae, "he saw." The form is a ro-less pret. ; the narrative tense is indicated by prefixing co n- when no other conjunct particle precedes. Thurn. Handb., p. 324. A construc- tion more in accord with good Old Ir. usage would be : Ida n-6en dia luid . . . atchond- airc . . . Cf. Phil. Soc. Trans., 1899-1902, 419. 2. cor era, "crimson"; cor cur, from Lat. purpura. For c representing I. E. p. and qu in loan-words; cf. Ir. clum, caille, eland, case and Lat. pluma, pallium, planta, pascha. 3. letheid ind lochta so for seilb diabail, lit., "the like of this people in the possession of the devil." 170 EDWARD G. COX 4. cdir a rochtain, lit., "it is right their attaining." 5. co dian, "speedily." Old Ir. seldom prefixes co to adjectives to form adverbs. 6. ?nad cdir . . . bam erlam re dul and. Bam, 1st sg. fut. of subst. verb, is used after mad because the hypothesis relates to the future. The form does not occur, as far as I am aware, in the Old Ir. Glosses; it is found, however, in the Salt, na Rann. 7. na bud cend ddib Augustin, lit., "that A. should not be a head to them." Bud, 3rd sg. sec. subj. after na, does not appear in the Glosses, nor in the Salt, na Rann. Bud started from bu of the pret. §25 1. ni terna dib acht I. ccc. septies, etc. The meaning is much obscured here through condensation of the original. The sense in full is, that of the twelve hundred monks who came out to pray, only fifty escaped. The three hundred sevens has nothing to do with the battle, but is an al- lusion to the system in use at Bangor of dividing the monks into seven parts with three hundred in each part. §26. 1. Millitum do h-ordned, "Mellitus to be ordained," i. e., was ordained. Another instance of the infinitive for the pret. 2. Tri mile a Doruuerui atbath Augustin. Bede says nothing about Augustine's dying three miles from Rochester; he only mentions that Roch- ester is twenty-four miles from Canterbury. §27. 1. fichi, another scribal error. It should read clt bliadain fichetmad, "the twenty-first year." §28. 1. romarb Saperict, rather atbath S., "S. died." §29. 1. Dochoid Lurint 7 Iustus. Not so; read Mellitus for Lurint. 2. rosraigled, 3rd sg. pass, s-pret. of sraiglim, adenom. of sraigell, "scourge." For the change in loan- words of Lat. / to s, cf. furnus, fibula, frenum, f'inis,flagellum, etc., which have become in Irish sorn, sibul, srian, suanem, sraigell. See Vend., A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 171 Hib. Voc. But Stokes questions if in some of the Irish words the s may not represent Old Celt. th, Gr., I. E. dh. Stokes, Goidelica. 3. Paulin. For the identification of Paulinus with Run map Urbgen, of the Historia Britonum (Nen- nius), see E. W. B. Nicholson, Zeit. f. celt. Phil. iii, 108. 4. Celtiberga for Aedilberga of Bede. 5. tibred for older tiberad. 3rd sg. sec. red. fut., en- clitic, of do-biur, "I give." This syncopated form appears also in Salt, na Rann. 6. dernai. Instead of the pres. subj. after atbert, "said," in historical narrative, one would ex- pect the sec. subj. 7. dia coemos corbam inraice de, lit., "if I am able that I can be worthy of it." Co-r-bam goes back to con-ro-bam, of which the 6am comes from ba. The ro- expresses possibility. 8. Rofailsiged do Phaulln trifaitsine. The vision that was shown to Paulinus repeated former experi- ences of the king. 9. mina marba Elduni, "if you do not kill Edwin." Mani is the older form for mina; the latter does not, to my knowledge, occur in Salt, na Rann. 10. Rodluthus mo sith y in ri, lit., "I have united my peace, and the king." §30. 1. mh'forcetul, "my teaching." Mh stands for 7no, "my," which aspirates the following word. To avoid hiatus of the two vowels, which results upon the silencing of / when aspirated, the first vowel is elided. But why is the initial m aspirated? 2. Hat, 2nd sg. fut. of copula. In the Salt, na Rann (855), there is found a 1st sg. Ham. Strachan suggests that Old Ir. may have had a form bia, which it used absolutely, and a ba, which it used after particles (Phil. Soc. Trans., 1899-1902, p. 80). If so, then Ham, Hat may have been influ- enced by am, at, of the pres. ind. of the copula. 3. Dianomsoera, "if you free me." The form is made up of dia, "if," -no-, particle used to prefix pro- \ 172 EDWARD G. COX nouns, -m- inf. pron. of the 1st sg., and soSra, 2nd sg. subj. 4. a n-apraidh-se, "what ye say"(?). The form looks like the 2nd pi. subj., enclitic, of asbiur, "I say." Cf . apraid, Atk. One would expect here the 2nd sg. subj. §32. 1. dor . . . and. Perhaps dorochair in ri and, "and the king fell there." §33. 1. Dorochair y se crithnaigthe, "he fell and he trembl- ing," a much-used idiom in Irish. The verb is 3rd sg. unredup. pret. of dotuit. In place of the pass. ptc. crithnaigthe, we should have the active crithnaigud. §34. 1. atbalad, probably an error for atbelad, 3rd sg. sec. redup. fut. of atbail, "he dies." 2. in fer aile masech? 3. la, "Iona"; Bede, Hit. the usual Lat. form, with such variations as Eo, Hu, Hya, Hi, I, and the adjective forms Ioua, Euea, Hiiensis, Ionensis. The name which has stuck, Iona, no doubt was evolved from a misreading of the adj. Ioua. Probably, too, the citation of Iona as a Hebrew word meaning (1) dove, (2) the proper name Jonah, as variants of Columba, contributed to fixing the incorrect form Iona as the name of the island. See Fowler, Vita Sancti Columbae, pp. lxv and 3. 4. Bede names several more abbots besides those mentioned by our scribe. The Brussels MS. con- taining lives of Irish saints treats of, among others, Baithenus, abbas Hiensis (June 9) . Plum- mer suggests he may have been Baeithin of Ban- gor, who died 665. Cf. Rev. Celt., xi, 374. I have just received an announcement setting forth the intention of the Royal Irish Academy to sup- ply complete sets in permanent platinotype of their reproductions of MSS. 3409B and 3410, in the Biblioteque Royale, Brussels, to those desir- ous of purchasing this valuable collection of the lives of Irish Saints. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 173 §35. 1. ri castral §36. 1. Anno dominicce, etc. According to Todd, MS. Laud 610 contains on folio 81b an account of the great plague 633 AD., which begins thus: Anno dominicae dc. xxxiii. Ara mora h-i Saxain tuaiscert ond anbthine rucad Paulinus Edilberta illuing co Cantia agus rohairimed co h-onorach. This coincides almost literally with the account in our text. 2. Etune. The governing nom. not apparent. 3. Iacob. Concerning this name see E. W. B. Nichol- son (Zeit. f. celt. Phil., iii, 109): "The name of Paulinus's deacon, Iacobus, is suspiciously Brit- ish. I doubt if Iacobus was a common name in West Europe at the beginning of the 7th century. As an Anglo-Saxon name Iacob seems to be abso- lutely unknown. But as a Welsh name (starting before the 7th century and passing through Ia- cob, Iacou, Iaco, into Iago) it was quite com- mon." 4. The last sentence is left incomplete. GLOSSARIAL INDEX. (The bare numbers refer to the sections of the text.) a for i, prep, with ace. to, 5. a N- what; only as subject or object of a verb, 1, 30. abbaig beavers, nom. pi. of abacc, 14. Meyer, Contr. afritjnd h-ic afriund, offering [mass], 22. Lat. offerenda. aid notice, dia n-aid, dat. sg., 15; usually in conjunction with do-biur. aidchi F. night, nom. sg. 29. The dat. has taken place of nom. adaig. aine F. fasting, dat. sg., 24; ainib, dat. pi., 23. *iunium, a Low Lat. form of jejunium. airchinnech M. citizen, nom. pi. (form seems nom. sg.), 9; Meyer, Contr. aitte aedificium, ace. sg., 23. 174 EDWARD G. COX arsata adj. ancient; na n-arsata, subst. gen. pi., 1; na n-arsatha, 2. assaide the easier of it, 17. atharcud (for at(t)arcud) 'relatio',2. Sg. 197b4, 200b8, Rev. Celt, iii, 327. atracht arose, 3rd sg. t-pret. of atomriug, 33. From ess- reg-, raise; when pronoun infixed, ess-becomes ad-. Strachan, Tales from the Tain. boiss palm (of hand), ace. sg. of boss, 30. brait F. plundering, ace. sg. of brat, 13. brathardo adv. brotherly, co b. 23. The adjective forma- tion from brath(a)ir should be brathard(a)e; in Mid. Ir. ending -ae becomes -a. brathris M. brotherhood, nom. sg. 24. a m-brathris, brotherhood with them. buidechus thanks, dia b., thanking him, lit. to his thanks, 23. cailech M. chalice, ace. sg., 36. From Lat. calicem. canfaid they will sing, 3rd pi. f-fut. to canim, 24. chantairechta gen. sg. of cantairecht, singing, 36. carat-ben F. concubine, nom. sg., 9. carat, gen. sg. of cara friend. cena particle of affirmation, usually aspirated, 15. The aspirated form became fixed in late Old Ir. cenel N. race, cinela (i for e), nom. pi. 19; da chin£l, da chenel, dual nom., 19; cinel, nom. sg., 19; ceniuil, gen. sg., 1; in cheiniuil, gen. sg., 24; cheniul (for -iuil), gen. sg., 30; do cheniul, dat. sg., 22. cethrachad fortieth, nom. sg., 11. Old Ir. cethorcatmad. cipe (ci-p e) whatever be, 3rd sg. pres. subj. of copula is, 34. chlaraigh dat. sg. of cl&rach, boarded, 33. Meyer, Contr. con-icc, -cum-aing is able; coemos, 1st sg. s-subj. enclitic, 29; coemsat, 3rd pi., s-subj., enclitic. comacraibhibh (com-fochraibh), dat. pi. of comfhocair, neighboring, 1; chomfochraibe, dual nom., 14. conerrachtatar see atracht; 3rd pi. t-pret. conorragba 3rd sg. a-subj . of con-gaibim, / hold, admit, A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 175 croch F. cross, nom. sg., 23. W. crog, Lat. crucem (the original vowel seen in gen. sg. cruchae). cuimqib dat. pi. of cuimce distress, 30. chumri (chum-re) brevity, 23. deg-scel N. good-tidings, ace. sg., 22. Cf. 0. E. god-spel. deochon M. deacon, nom. sg., 36. Lat. diaconus, W. dia- con. diamlaigthe past ptc. of diam-laigim (di-samlaigim), I pretend, 29. donafib (older donaibhi), to those; prep, demon, pron., 22. dorisse adv. again, 14; doris, 14. A shortened form of doridisse; cf afrithisse, older ar-f.; frithissi is ace. or dat. of a fern, noun fritheisse, esse meaning trace, ves- tige; ar- poss. pron. 1st pi.; do- poss. pron. 2nd sg. dulig adj. difficult, nom. sg., 29. ealathan F. gen. sg. of elatha, composition, 1. eclastacda fer eel. a churchman, 36. echlanta (eclanta?) Mid. Ir. past ptc. of as-gleinn, he selects, 1. engna (for engnama?) gen. sg. of engnam, prowess, 14. Wind. Tdin; Stokes, Ace. na Sen. epiltin do h-e, dat. sg. of epeltu, verbal abstract of atbail, he dies, 24. Syntax peculiar, an inf. used for pret. erchonsal Lat. proconsul, 36. Cf. Erpoint for Lat. Pro- pontis, Stokes, Phil. Soc. Trans., 1891, p. 56. fledogugud (usual form fledugud), inf. to a denom. verb fledigim(?), from fled feast (W. gwledd), 17. foithib on them, 14; prep, fo + suff. pron. 3rd pi. [f]rithairib F. dat. pi. to frith-aire, vigil, 23. fuile rel. form of ata, subst. verb is, 30. Usual Old Ir. form fil, feil; the form with the broad vowel is later. funedcha nom. pi. of funedach, western, 19; funedach, gen. pi. 33. A derivative of fuined, setting (of the sun). Strachan, Phil. Soc. Trans., 1891-94, p. 294. ftjnetta adj. western, gen. pi., 1; funeta, gen. pi., 69. See preceding word. 176 EDWARD G. COX gein N. birth ria n-gein, dat. sg., 4. Verbal abstract to gainithir, is bom. gein M. mouth, edge, fo g. cloidem, ace. sg. of gin; but here as if gein were nom. gell N. pledge, hostage: giullu, ace. pi. with u-infection preserved, 4. gentlide adj. heathen, accl pi. masc, 28. Lat. gentilis. gentliuchta gen. sg. of gentliucht F, heathendom, 29. See preceding word. i'dal M. gen. pi. of idal, idol, 23. Lat. idolum. imchomarca ace. pi. of im-chomarc, verbal noun to im- chomarcim, I ask; hence, questions. IND-aislingi F. ace. sg. of aislinge, vision, 29. tNDATT are they, 24. Ind. interrog. particle, + 3rd pi. pres., dependent form of copula. In Old Ir. form frequently nasalised following word. Thurn. Handb., p. 277. isat they are, 3rd pi. pres. of isam, 22. Wind. Tdin. itat 3rd pi. pres. of itau, ito, I find my self, lam, 36. Wind. Tdin, ito-sa. laa N. (Old Ir. lde, Ida, longer, laithe) day; lai, gen. sg. 22; i 1-16, dat. sg. 23; Ida n-6en, nominative phrase (note nasalising), 23; innarsele 16, dat. sg. 33. leith i 1-leith, in behalf of, with respect to, dat. sg. of leth, side, 2. letheid F. ace. sg. of lethet, kind (Mod. Ir., the like of), 24. longis resindl. before the fleet, dat. sg., 19. Form looks like ace, the usual dat. form being longais. Word ordinar- ily means a voluntary exiling voyage, in contrast to imm- ram, an ordinary voyage. Loingsech, a proper name "exile," Or gain Dind Rig, Stokes, Zeit. f. celt. Phil., iii, p. 4. Wind. Wtb. lucc M. dat. sg., a place, 24. Loan from Lat. locus: o goes into u when following syllable has u-color. Thurn. Handb., pp. 81, 522. manach M. monk, ace. sg., 23;manchaib, dat. pi., 25. Loan from Lat. monachus; the change from o to a perhaps due to W. manach. Stokes, Lives of Saints, p. lxxxvi. A MIDDLE-IRISH FRAGMENT 177 manchaine a monk, nom. sg., 13. Usually means service (mainchine, manchuine). See Eriu, i, 207, = a tenant of church lands. manistrech gen. pi. of manister, 2. From Low Lat. mon- astirium monastery. miledu ace. pi. of mil M. soldier, 33. From Lat. miles, -itis; declension imitates Lat., mil, miled. nem-elnide adj. uncorrupted ace. sg. 22. Nem- (Old Ir. neb), neg. prefix. nessu comp. of accus, ocus, near, 17 6cbad coll. youth, ace. sg. 14. Oc, 6g (O. I. 6ac), young. 6entadachaib dona h-6, to their unifying, dat. pi. (subst.) of 6entadach, harmonious, unified. 6entjr at oenur by yourself (lit. in your oneness), 30. ol said, 24. Isolated form, later ar, which also occurs in this text; used both for sg. and pi. Thurn. Handb., p. 509. rainn F. part, nom. sg., 2; raind, a part, 2. Nom. usually rann; here dat. seems to have taken its place. A rainn has become a nominal prep., meaning as for. Thurn. Handb., p. 487. re F. time; re x. bliadan adv. locution of time, 8; tria r6a ace. sg., 3. roassar 3rd sg. dep. pret. with reduplication of asaim, I grow, 17; ro-h-assair, dep. pret. in -ai, 17. rochomoentadaigset 3rd pi. s-pret. of comoentadaigim, • I unite with, 18; a denom. verb from 6entadach. rocumscaided (-ged), 3rd sg. s-pret. pass, of cumscaigim, I move, 31. Enclitic form of con-od-scag-, Rev. Celt. vi, 139. roderbor-sa 1st sg. pres. conjunct, of derbaim, I test, prove, 22. Ro- prefixed to express possibility. ro-h-airfited 3rd sg. s-pret. pass, of airfitim, I delight, hence attract, 23. ro-h-edhpradh (id-), 3rd sg. s-pret. pass, idpraim, I offer, 29. ro-h-orcthe (for -fhorcthe), past ptc. of for-canim, / teach, I. Old Ir. foircthe. Ro- intensive prefix. 178 EDWARD G. COX roinr^etar 3rd pi. pret. redupl. of inrethim, 7" plunder, 18. Form should be inrsetatar (ind- rethatar). roreccair (-frecair), 3rd sg. s-pret. of frith-garim, I an- swer, 22. Frith-g- under the accent becomes free-. Here f- aspirated after ro- and lost. roscithaigther 3rd sg. pres. subj. pass, of scithaigim, I weary, 34. Denom. verb from scith weary. rotharminiud (for rotharminuig), 3rd sg. s-pret. of tair- minigim(?), I explain, 7. rothorromad 3rd sg. pret. a-subj. of toromaim, I visit, 29. 8A for so, demon, pron., this, 1; se, 9; seo, 30. saigthigidib cona s., with his successors, (?), 23. Dr. Ber- gin suggests with a query that it is "nomen agentis" to saigim. 'adeo'. Cf. saigthetu 'aditus'. Meyer. Frag, of Old Ir. Treatise on the Psalter. sain for sin, demon, pron., that, 14; sein(?), 7, 19; co seirj (cosin), 20. sairse work dat. sg. 1. 2 opus, Ascoli 222. Cf. Sg. 92b 6. sid? Saxano na sid, 17; gen. of side, 'blast' ;? hence, Saxons of the wind, referring to their mode of travel (?). Cf. Salt, na Rann, Sept. 10. sith M. peace, ace. sg., 29; in t-slde, gen. sg., 33. sossud M. seat, dat. sg. 23; sosad, ace. sg., 33. Perhaps neuter: see Felire Oengusa, Feb. 26, Sept. 21, sossad n-. sui M. instructor, nom. sg., 36. See Strachan, Rev. Celt. xxviii, 202. t^thaisti 2nd pi. s-fut. of tuitim, I fall, 24. Old Ir. -este. tairbirt verbal noun to do-biur, / receive, 29. Old Ir. tabart, -irt. tarsat for tartsat, 3rd pi. perf. pret. enclitic of dobiur, I give, take, 15. Proclitic form doratsat. toirrsech co t., sorrowfully, 29. TtriR tower, nom. pi. ,14. Atk. tor. from Lat. turris. SOME SCOTTISH INFLUENCES ON EIGHTEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE BY ALBERT DAVIS, PH.D. 1 The taunt of many writers in England in the eighteenth century that Scotland had no liter- ature or literary ancestry is not justified by a consideration of the influences that the neigh- bor country exerted on English letters. John- son's well known remarks on Scotland were merely casual comments, not meant to be taken too seriously; yet they but repeated the oft- heard slur on Scotland and all things pertain- ing to that land. In the seventeenth century the few Scottish poe^s were but servile imitators of English authors, most of whom were Londoners. When 1 Dr. Davis died of paralysis, at his home, Hyde Park on the Hudson, on June 28, 1910. He was born in Brook- lyn, February 21, 1881, and was graduated A.B. from Co- lumbia University in 1903 and A.M. in 1904. At Cornell he was Graduate Scholar in 1904-6 and took the degree of Ph.D. in 1906. He was an instructor in English at Wes- leyan in 1906-8 and at Dartmouth in 1908-10. Diligent in scholarly research, he was also an enthusiastic and suc- cessful teacher. C. S. N. 180 ALBERT DAVIS James I of England went up to London there went with him many poets and men of letters who desired to bask in the favor of the king. Thus was Scotland almost bereft not only of writers but also of literary tra- ditions. With the beginning of the eigh- teenth century there appeared in Scotland both an English and a Scottish school; the one still bowing to the London dictates of fashion in writing, the other presenting its thought in the vernacular. While thus a feeling of dependence on prescribed English models still existed, there was also growing the revolt against the style of poetry employed by Pope and his school. It was the Scotch who first definitely attempted in verse to present Nature in her wild and less cultivated aspects. Allan Ramsay's edition of Scots Songs, pub- lished in 1719, showed that an interest in earlier poetry was reviving. Ramsay's importance, however, is mainly due to his original poems which treat of Nature. They proclaim him to be one ol the initiators of the "Nature movement" in poetry. Certain of his eclogues give truthful pictures of contemporary humble life, and also present ludicrous incidents among rustics. Though Crabbe wrote more realistic- ally and with less humor, yet he was really following in the wake of Ramsay, inasmuch as he employed humble life as the theme of The Vil- lage (1783) and other poems of importance. In SCOTTISH INFLUENCES 181 The Gentle Shepherd of 1725 Ramsay made no use of the "simpering loveliness" common to the pastoral of the period; instead, he drew a pic- ture of the Scotch peasant in actual and ordi- nary surroundings. Thus Wordsworth's theory that common things described in common lan- guage are proper subject-matter for poetry, had actual trial in this poet of the early part 01 the century. The language of the speakers in the poem, it is true, is not that of the Scotch peasant; but the subject matter in general and the pic- tures of Lowland and pastoral scenery are exactly like what was done by the poet of Alf ox- den in his presentation of broad scenic impres- sions. It has often been said that The Gentle Shepherd suggested to Gay the idea of his Beg- gar's Opera) here we may have a definite instance of Scottish influence on one of the members of the English Pseudo-Classic group. Ramsay's original poetry in Scotch dialect goes far to disprove the assertion of Beattie that the language of Scotland was " incapable of use as the vehicle of literary expression." Had it not been for Ramsay's initial movement, Rob- ert Fergusson might not have taken up the same satiric and humorous method and thus kept aglow the torch which he in turn handed to Robert Burns. Both Fergusson and Burns show the influence of the sentimental school of writing which had been started by Sterne's Sentimental Journey. In all probability, how- 182 ALBERT DAVIS ever, neither poet was influenced directly by Sterne, but received his inspiration from the much more lachrymose and sentimental pro- duction of Mackenzie, The Man of Feeling, pub- lished in 1771. Robert Burns is said to have worn out two copies of this book, and the trend of it is very evident in some of his poems, not- ably To a Mouse and To a Mountain Daisy. The Spenserian stanza in The Cotter's Saturday Night was taken not directly from The Faerie Queene but rather from the poetry of Shenstone; whereas the subject matter is copied from Fer- gusson's Farmer's Ingle. All three poets popularized the Nature ele- ment in their native poetry, and made the peasant a subject for poetic presentation. The characteristics of the Scotch, their customs and traditions, figure in the various work of these three men. Their influence might be spoken of as general, for their tone pervades later Brit- ish poetry. A more direct influence was exerted by an almost forgotten poet, Robert Riccaltoun, who lived from 1691 to 1769. Riccaltoun was at first a farmer, but later became a minister at Hobkirk, near which place James Thomson was born. He became interested in the youthful poetry of Thomson, and there is little doubt that the younger man had the privilege of read- ing an original poem by Riccaltoun which dealt with aspects of winter. Indeed, Thomson SCOTTISH INFLUENCES 183 admitted in one of his letters that "Mr. Ric- caltoun's poem on Winter first put the design into my head" of writing on such subjects. Yet this poem, which I reprint below, is in reality a rather weak production, giving as it does generalizations instead of definite pic- tures. Its sense of gloom may possibly be traced to the season of the year with which it deals; its melancholy foreshadows the tone of the graveyard poetry that culminated in The Grave by the Scotchman Robert Blair, in The Com- plaint or Night Thoughts of Edward Young, an Englishman, and in a much more poetic and romantic form in Gray's Elegy. Thus to this Hobkirk minister, through his interest in Thomson, we are indebted for both the subject matter that later represented the casting off of the Popean yoke, and the beginning of that serious and melancholy poetic strain that dom- inated for a time the poetry of England and of the Continent. A WINTER'S DAY. WRITTEN BY A SCOTCH CLERGYMAN. Now, gloomy soul ! look out — now comes thy turn ; With thee, behold all ravag'd nature mourn: Hail the dim empire of thy darkling night, That spreads, slow-shadowing, o'er the vanquish'd light. Look out, with joy; the ruler of the day, 5 Faint, as thy hopes, emits a glimmering ray : Already exil'd to the utmost sky, Hither, oblique, he turns his clouded eye. 184 ALBERT DAVIS Lo! from the limits of the wintry pole, Mountainous clouds, in rude confusion, roll; 10 In dismal pomp, now, hov'ring on their way, To a sick twilight they reduce the day. And hark! imprison'd winds, broke loose, arise, And roar their haughty triumph through the skies. While the driv'n clouds, o'ercharged with floods of rain, 15 And mingled lightning, burst upon the plain. Now see sad earth — like thine, her alter'd state, Like thee, she mourns her sad reverse of fate! Her smiles, her wanton looks — where are they now? Faded her face! and wrapp'd in clouds her brow; 20 No more th'ungratef ul verdure of the plain ; No more the wealth-crown' d labours of the swain; These scenes of bliss, no more upbraid my fate, Torture my pining thought, and rouse my hate. The leaf-clad forest, and the tufted grove, 25 Ere-while the safe retreats of happy love, Stript of their honours naked, now appear; This is, my soul! the Winter of their year! The little noisy songsters of the wing, All, shiv'ring on the bough, forget to sing. 30 Hail, rev' rend silence, with thy awful brow ! Be musick's voice forever mute — as now; Let no intrusive voice my dead repose Disturb — no pleasure disconcert my woes. In this moss-cover'd cavern, hopeless laid 35 On the cold clift I'll lean my aking head, And, pleas'd with winter's waste, unpitying see All nature in an agony with me! Rough rugged rocks, wet marshes, ruin'd towers, Bare trees, brown brakes, black heaths, and rushy moors, 40 Dread floods, huge cataracts, to my pleased eyes (Now, I can smile!) in wild disorder rise. And now, the various dreadfulness combin'd, Black melancholy comes to doze my mind. See! night's wish'd shades, spreading through the air, 45 And the lone, hollow gloom, for me prepare! Hail! solitary ruler of the grave! Parent of terrors! from thy dreary cave! SCOTTISH INFLUENCES 185 Let thy dumb silence midnight all the ground, And spread a welcome horror all around. 50 But hark! — a sudden howl invades my ear! The phantoms of the dreadful hour are near. Shadows, from each dark cavern, now combine And stalk around, and mix their yells with mine. Stop, flying Time ! repose thy restless wing; 55 Fix here, — nor hasten to restore the Spring. Fix'd my ill fate, so fix'd let Winter be, Let never wanton season laugh at me! In The Seasons, Thomson brought to the English reader the country life of Scotland presented from direct observation. This topic of the country and its beauties acted like an infusion of new blood into a poetry that through lack of nutrition, was becoming anaemic. The vigor of the Thomsonian subject matter was of great benefit not only to the eighteenth century poets but also to the tone of all subsequent poetry. Thomson's theme and use of blank verse emphasized the revolt against the Popean model of classical accuracy. Fortunately these early poets from Scotland were not writing primarily to receive the praise of their English confreres, and therefore broke away from the stilted and conventional mediums. It has been said that Thomson feared he might fail utterly if he attempted to write in couplets, since Pope had brought that epigrammatic style to such perfection. Whether this be true or not, the fact remains that Thomson began the revival of blank verse after so many years of disuse since Milton's time. His blank verse was not 186 ALBERT DAVIS perfect, nor was it exactly of the Miltonic type; but it was different from the couplet. In later life Thomson recanted in regard to his method. The Castle of Indolence (1733) indicates, it is true, that he was still willing to take risks as to his means of presentation; but in his later poetry he fell under the domination of the Pseudo-Classical school, and thus, like Whitehead, became, instead of a leader of poetic thought, simply a servile imitator. Apparently he preferred to follow the line of least resistance rather than continue to bear the brunt of battle. David Malloch was another Scotchman who went up to London to try his hand at poetry. His earliest poem, The Excursion, includes evident imitations of Thomson. Malloch so far desired to lose his identity as a Scotchman that he Anglicized his name to Mallet. His importance, however, is primarily due to his conscious imitation of the style and matter of his fellow-countryman. The appearance of imitators indicates that the Thomsonian cult had taken root. Robert Blair carried on the tradition of grave- yard poetry which may have been suggested by Riccaltoun's Winter's Day. It would seem as if Scotchmen, because of the longer period of gloomy weather which they annually experi- enced, were more prone to consider the morbid side of life. The Grave (1743), as its name SCOTTISH INFLUENCES 187 might well imply, is full of melancholy; but it struck a note that was quickly echoed by vari- ous poets of other lands. The Night Piece on Death (1721) by Thomas Parnell, an Irishman, may have been known to Robert Blair, as he may also have read the Night Thoughts', but so far as can be determined by comparison of trie poems, The Grave seems to be an original production. These poetical pieces of settled melancholy appealed to all sorts of readers. People were in the proper receptive mood; and the romantic gloom which permeated such poetry may be considered as a forerunner of the Romantic movement. The most evident result of this influence is to be found in An Elegy Wrote in a Country Churchyard (1751), in which the gloom is combined with a pervading romanticism. The poetry is of a much finer strain than in either Blair or Young; the riming scheme is much more appropriate than the somewhat loosely constructed blank verse of Blair and of Young. This sentimental and romantic presentation of subjects dealing with death is also to be noted in Thanatopsis; thus has the influence spread from Scotland to America. The eighteenth century in general had a great and mighty dread of the sea. In poetry this dread finds expression: the sea was not a popular subject. In 1762, however, was pub- lished The Shipwreck by William Falconer, a 188 ALBERT DAVIS native of Edinburgh. Because of his poverty he joined a merchant ship; after various experi- ences on the sea he wrote the poem on which rests his fame. Even Falconer writes of the sea in the stilted couplets of Pope. Although Falconer dreaded the various moods of the ocean, he had an intimate knowledge of his subject; and to true descriptive ability he joined poetical expression. The technicalities that the seaman would know in connection with his ship are presented with such minutiae that the landsman is soon overwhelmed by the termi- nology. In reality, indeed, it is more with the ship than with the sea that Falconer was con- cerned. Though the purpose of The Ship- wreck was didactic, it suggested the possibili- ties of the sea as a subject. Falconer had the opportunity to study and appreciate his material; it is this appreciation mingled with awe and respect that he introduced into literature. Although a sea-faring folk, the British had lacked good delineations of the treacherous deep; and Falconer's choice of a poetic theme is significant. A more widespread influence of the sea and of melancholy thoughts was furthered by the work of James Macpherson. In 1760 he pub- lished as translations Fragments of Ancient Poetry * * * translated from the Galic or Erse Language. These Ossianic "poems," trans- cribed into prose reminiscent of the Bible, SCOTTISH INFLUENCES 189 are deeply tinctured with melancholy. They deal with the sea, the clouds, and the mists. The interest aroused by the Fragments led to the publication of Fingal in 1762 and of Temora in the following year. There is no doubt that a basis for the poems existed among the High- landers, though upon the poems as we have them Macpherson put his own form and impress. They were published at a time when enthusiasm for the earlier periods of history had been aroused by The Castle of Otranto; they also appealed to the public in "the era of sentiment which had sprung up — sentiment which was domestic in Clarissa Harlowe, . . poetic in Percy's Re- liques." 2 The effects of the Ossianic poems lived long after Macpherson had been gathered to his fathers. Byron, in his earlier years, fell under the sway of the poetry; Burns acknowl- edged the fascination that Ossian had for him ; and the early work of Coleridge is imbued with the mystery that Macpherson represented. x Abroad, the influence of Ossian was also evident. In Italy, after the translation of the Fragments, a, new form of poetry sprang up. Germany hailed the poems with joy, and several of the great Romantic writers made attempts to translate the "poem" into German verse. France was not at first thrilled by the 2 Graham: Scottish Men of Letters in the Eighteenth Cen- tury, p. 241. 190 ALBERT DAVIS work of the Scotchman; at length Napoleon, reading it in the Italian translation, was de- lighted, and is said to have carried a copy of the work with him on his campaigns. One other man should at least be mentioned because of his direct influence upon a brother Scot. The Ballad of Cumnor Hall, by William Julius Meikle, or, as he preferred to spell the name, Mickle, so appealed to Walter Scott as a possible subject for a novel that he at first intended to use the material under the same name as that which Mickle had employed. Instead, he wrote Kenilworth. This is an excel- lent instance of the influence that a poetical piece exerted on the chief romancer of the Scot- tish nation, in whose mind it was transmuted into another form of literature. Not in poetry alone was Scotland of great importance in influencing her sister country. Scottish novelists, historians, and philosophers were also imitated in England. In prose, of various kinds, Scottish writers are to be praised for suggestions that were followed out either in their own land or in England. In some cases, to be sure, the Scotch authors expanded ideas they received from England and this expansion in return reacted upon the Southrons'. Yet there was a manifold influence purely Scottish. With the novel we reach a later stage in the interrelation of the literatures of England and Scotland. There seem to be only two kinds of SCOTTISH INFLUENCES 191 novels that exerted much influence for good or ill — the sentimental and the sea-faring. In Tristram Shandy are the first glimmerings of the sentimentality with which the work of Sterne is always associated. In A Sentimental Journey appears the light and frivolous side of " sentiment." This phase — the so-called senti- ment which often deteriorated in later authors into mere lachrymosity — became for a time very popular. The most " tearful" of the produc- tions of this school, The Man of Feeling, is full of the over-sentimental element of Sterne's work; yet Mackenzie was a matter-of-fact Edinburgh lawyer — almost the last man from whom would be expected an orgy of sobs. A possible parody on the " sentiment " portrayed in The Man of Feeling is Fergusson's poem The Sow of Feeling, in which the more evident and less artistic qualities of sentimentality are held up to ridicule. The sow is as prone to weep over the expected demise of her children as was Harley to "drop a tear" at the death or ill-fortune of the many characters whom he met on his journey to the city. There is a rather evident trace of sentiment in The Pickwick Papers, Chapter VI, where the old clergyman relates to the members of the Pickwickian group the Story of the Convict's Return. In the name Edmunds may linger some faint recollection of Mackenzie's Edwards; the character of the insertion in Pickwick is very 192 ALBERT DAVIS similar to the story by the Scot. Again, in Chapter XI, Dickens presents the old clergy- man's manuscript — one of the devices of the "Sentimental School." Dickens's name is likewise associated with that of another Scotchman — Tobias Smollett. A literary characteristic descended from Rabe- lais to Smollett and thence to Dickens. The similarity is frequently noticeable in the bois- terous, rude, frank, sometimes brutal traits of the characters. But the chief point of impor- tance in Smollett is his introduction of sea- faring life into his stories. Smollett had fol- lowed the sea as surgeon's mate on board the Cumberland, and therefore had an excellent opportunity to observe the conditions then existing in the marine service. Though we may not approve of all his naval characters, yet they represent a practically new element in the devel- opment of the novel. Such weak attempts to depict the sailor class as we find in the stories of DeFoe are but imaginary portrayals in keeping with the pseudo-historical atmosphere of all those stories of adventures on the high seas. Smollett used the style of writing known as the picaresque, the story being a series of stories revolving about one rascally character in a more or less related degree. He also incor- porated a coarse element from Rabelais. This brutal coarseness in a modified form descended, along with the interweaving of incident upon SCOTTISH INFLUENCES 193 incident, to Dickens in such tales as Pickwick and the later and more realistic novels of purpose. The subject matter of Smollett, though with the unsavory parts omitted, was revived and brought to greater prominence in America in the early years of our literary development. The sea and its moods, as well as the sea- faring characters, appear to even better advan- tage in the sea tales of Cooper. As in Smollett, so also in Cooper, there is the recollection of actual experiences upon the ocean while in active service. But though Smollett sometimes liked to satirize the English navy and its com- manders, Cooper's purpose was more worthy. In his sea tales, the glorification of the younger country is always before the eye in the over- powering of large fleets by small American ves- sels that were little more than privateers, or else the escape of the infantile fleet from a mighty pursuer. In the domain of history there were three Scotchmen of considerable note in their period : Hume, whose real importance is in the realm of philosophy though his History is still at least a memory; Robertson, now almost forgotten; and Smollett. In historical work they followed in general the trend of their fellow-countrymen. For many years, Scotch students and anti- quarians had been producing works dealing with various phases of early Scottish life; these works found many readers. 194 ALBERT DAVIS When Hume had almost abandoned his philosophical work, he turned to history as a field that might bring forth a rich yield. The reigns of James I and Charles I of England attracted him and, to his own astonishment — for he was notoriously indolent — he kept at his subject, spurred on by literary ambition, his ruling passion. At this time there was scarcely a work in existence that could right- fully be called a history; no man who possessed the power to grasp facts and to reproduce his material in literary form had written earlier. The history of the earliest of the Stuarts was published by Millar of London in 1754. At first the book did not meet with the enthusiastic reception which Hume had expected, and for a while he threatened to remove from the Brit- ish Isles and locate in France, where he thought he should be appreciated. But the threat was not carried out, and he soon set to work on the continuation of the History of England and carried it to the Revolution of 1688. This volume was attacked by both Whig and Tory, inasmuch as it did not favor either political party. Despite these adverse comments and criticisms, the History slowly grew in popularity, and Hume continued it; the house of Tudor was presented to the public in two volumes in 1759, and the period from the invasion of Julius Caesar to Henry VII, in 1761. There the work stopped. Hume had grown tired of the enter- SCOTTISH INFLUENCES 195 prise, his erstwhile indolent spirit having gained control; he had won the fame he sought, and through the sale of his History had become a man of comparative wealth. Robertson, although now little read, was con- sidered the greatest of the historians of his day and was generally placed above Gibbon by their contemporaries. At the time when Hume was preparing the manuscript of the initial volume of his History of England, Robertson determined to take up a subject more interesting to the Scot, namely, a History of Scotland. Completed by 1758, it was printed in the fol- lowing year and met with immediate success. Robertson was in all respects a moderate; therefore, the tone of his History offended none of his readers. Though the History was some- what pompous and stiff in diction, yet the age was so accustomed to stilted phraseology that it did not object to that fault, but enjoyed the animation and vigorous tone of the narrative. The author, though born and bred in Scotland, wrote the purest English, avoiding the Scotti- cisms by which Hume's work was marred. He was praised in highest terms by Horace Walpole; in 1762 was chosen Principal of the University; and was honored with other noteworthy appoint- ments. For ten years Robertson made no attempt to add to his fame. He thought of taking the history of England as his next subject, but 196 ALBERT DAVIS refrained out of deference to his friend Hume, whose province he would have thus invaded. Finally he determined to treat of the Spanish king, Charles V, and in 1769 published three quarto volumes on The History of the Reign of Charles V. Despite the scarcity of the Spanish sources of information, his work again proved a brilliant success. It was translated into French; and the notabilities of the time wrote flattering letters to the somewhat diffident minis- ter. Even Johnson accepted this sensible Scot, who was in such awe of the Dictator that he dared not oppose Johnson's dogmatic utterances. Robertson's next historical work on the dis- covery and conquest of America, was an out- growth of the History of Charles V., for he had ome interested in the development of Span- influences in the Americas. Information rtaining to such a subject was scanty, though he had the good fortune to receive valuable aid from the Ambassador to Madrid. He had the canny Scotch shrewdness in grasping facts and in presenting them clearly and vigorously. When we consider that Robertson was badly handicapped because original sources were not accessible, we give him the honor due to any pioneer in a new field. The same general sub- ject was again treated in the work of Prescott, who had the added advantage of later investi- gations and of access to valuable original docu- SCOTTISH INFLUENCES 197 ments. Yet Prescott often refers to the works of Robertson, and sometimes directly quotes passages to make his own statements the more conclusive. Smollett was an historian not entirely from choice, but rather from necessity. His work is that of the literary hack. He had not the knowledge of his fellow countrymen necessary to produce an important historical work; but what he lacked in erudition, he attempted to overcome by infusing into his history all the interest of a novel. The History of England from the Death of Julius Caesar to the Year 174-8 is not really history but rather narrative. It has vigor, but it lacks accuracy. After these three men had prepared the way, others took up the subject of historical research. Even in the same century there was one follower who far surpassed his predecessors. This was Gibbon, who completed his masterpiece in 1787; in his work accuracy of fact is combined with the interest of a narrative. He had repeat- edly read Robertson 3 and Hume; and had evi- dently taken note of the defects in both men, so took warning of their experience by wisely 3 "The perfect composition, the nervous language," wrote Gibbon, "the well-turned periods of Dr. Robertson inflamed me to the ambitious hope that I might one day tread in his footsteps; the calm philosophy, the careless, inimitable beauties of his friend and rival, often forced me to close the volume with a mixed sensation of delight and despair." 198 ALBERT DAVIS forbearing to introduce a pompous tone into the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Of all the historians of the eighteenth century, Gibbon is the only one who still holds a promi- nent place in the realm of letters. In his own day, Hume made a greater im- pression by his historical work than by his philo- sophical writing. Since his death in 1776, a different view has prevailed; and it is Hume the philosopher of whom we think rather than Hume the historian. His historical work has been superseded by later and more careful writers, but his philosophical reasoning opened the way for the much more important theories of Kant. Hume agreed with Locke that we have knowl- edge only of our sensations and ideas, and also with Berkeley that there is no evidence of the existence of a material world; but he went a step further by arguing that we have as little knowledge of the existence of mind, for all we know is merely a series of ideas or impressions. Whence they come, wherein they exist, or whither they go, we cannot tell. We know noth- ing, then, of body and soul, matter and mind, the world outside and the personal identity within, as substances; we cannot prove the existence of these things. Hume thus had a great influence on modern philosophical thought. He " aroused Kant from his dogmatic slumbers," as Kant himself SCOTTISH INFLUENCES 199 put it, and thus helped to bring about the modern critical movement in philosophy. The positive content of his thinking was adopted by the so-called Association School in England, whose chief exponents are the two Mills and Bain. Hume's position was the logical outcome of Locke's empiricism. Berkeley carried Locke's thought to its logical consequence in regard to matter (the external world) ; Hume's in regard to soul (the internal world) . Another kind of literature that received a strong impetus from eighteenth century Scot- land was biography. "It was on Monday, the 16th of May (1763) when I was sitting in Mr. Davies' back Parlour, after having drank tea with him and Mrs. Davies, Johnson unexpect- edly came into the little shop. * * * Mr. Davies mentioned my name, and respectfully introduced me." Thus James Boswell records his first meeting with the lexicographer, and thus was fulfilled the half-formed wish that Boswell had made in 1760 to meet the famous man. From that time on, no opportunity was allowed to slip which might bring him within hearing of his oracle. So assiduous was the youthful Scotchman in his attentions that Johnson more than once expressed his annoy- ance in no measured terms. There is not the least doubt that Boswell was a hero-worshiper. When he stopped at Corsica, after leaving the dull law lectures at Utrecht, 200 ALBERT DAVIS he at once attached himself to the Corsican patriot Paoli, whose words and actions he care- fully treasured in note books at night. Well had Boswell taken to heart the advice of Mr. Love, his tutor in English pronunciation, to keep a diary of everything he heard and saw. In 1768 he published An Account of Corsica. Immediately he became a celebrity. After the publication of this book, Boswell went up to London to renew acquaintance with his old cronies, to shine as the newest luminary in the literary heavens, and to become again the personal satellite of Johnson. All told, according to the computations of Croker, Boswell's life in London did not amount to more than two years; his actual intercourse with Johnson covered less than three hundred days. In 1784 Johnson died; the opportunity for which Boswell had waited so long was now at hand. Who so well prepared to write a life of "the great bear," or so thoroughly con- versant with the utterances of the literary dic- tator? On the 16th of May, 1791, The Life of Samuel Johnson was presented to the expectant public. No date could have been more fitting, for it celebrated an anniversary of Boswell's introduction to the lexicographer. This biog- raphy has become the standard by which all similar work is judged. While the Life gives us our 1)' si picture of the various phases of John- son's character, it also reveals Boswell himself. SCOTTISH INFLUENCES 201 It shows the pleasure its author derived from basking in the light of greatness; it likewise exposes his willingness to be snubbed if thereby he might gain his purpose. Burke remarked that Johnson was greater in Boswell's pages than in any of his own; Macaulay but reiterated the same idea when he said that we know more of Johnson through the biography than we do from his own writings. It seems odd that the vain and talkative Boswell should have recog- nized his ability and power to portray Johnson, and that the seven years which he occupied in collecting and revising his materials were the years which proved most creditable to himself. Boswell showed to his contemporaries and to his successors the best possible method of writ- ing biography. The intimate and personal touches throw sidelights on character; thus the reader feels almost personally acquainted with the hero. Probably the most immediate influence of the work is to be found in Lockhart's Life of Walter Scott, which is introduced by Scott's own autobiography, followed by the revelation of the poet-novelist, which his son-in- law enriched by many personal touches. The eighteenth century in England is often considered to be the formative period of our present-day literature. In that century occurred the poetic revolt and also the initial steps in the development of the novel. It is not often admitted that England received any inspira- 202 ALBERT DAVIS tion or suggestion from the lesser parts of Great Britain. From this discussion, however, it is evident that Scotland exerted considerable influ- ence in the initiation of the newer literary move- ments. To her we are indebted for the " Nature movement," which reached its height with Wordsworth; and for the element of melancholy and the appreciation of the sea. Other influences are apparent in some of the minor phases of the novel. The earlier historians were Scotch- men, who brought to prominence that interest in past events which was apparently innate in the Scotch mind. In biography, Boswell set the standard for all work. In certain respects Macpherson's Ossianic poetry and Hume's philosophical reasoning exerted the most wide- spread influence on literature in general. In the one case the gloomy and romantic element of the "poems" struck a kindred note when carried into Continental literature; in the other instance the reasoning was brought to greater depth and breadth when it was taken up by Continental philosophers. A NEW NOTE ON THE DATE OF CHAUCER'S KNIGHT'S TALE BY OLIVER FARRAR EMERSON, PH.D. In recent years the great question in connec- tion with The Knight's Tale has been its essen- tial identity, in its present form, with the Pal- amon and Arcite mentioned in the Prologue to The Legend of Good Women. 1 The acceptance of that identity, as is now usual, presupposes an earlier composition of The Knight's Tale than was formerly thought possible, a date at least earlier than that of the Legend. As to this point, Mr. F. J. Mather, in his Introduction to Chaucer's Prologue, The Knight's Tale, and The Nun's Priest's Tale (1894), not only asserted his belief in the essential identity of the Pala- mon and Arcite with The Knight's Tale, but dated them as of "about 1381. " 2 This date Dr. Mather further emphasized in his article "On the Date of the Knight's Tale" contributed to An English Miscellany (1901). 3 There, he made some use of Professor Skeat's computa- 1 The Prologue, A, 408; B, 420. 2 Introduction, p. xvii, and footnote. 3 See p. 310. 204 OLIVER F. EMERSON tion of the years when May 5 was Sunday, and when the incidents of The Knight's Tale might correspond with the dates of an actual year. This computation had been printed by Profes- sor Skeat as early as 1868, though he chose the year 1387 as the more likely one in Chaucer's mind. 4 Dr. Mather, arguing for the identity of The Knight's Tale and the Palamon andArcite, prefers 1381 to 1387, and his argument cer- tainly makes good the preference. Some confirmation of the earlier date was offered by Professor John L. Lowes in his article on "The Tempest at hir Hoom cominge," Modern Language Notes, xix, 240-43. He there suggests that the 'tempest,' which has no coun- terpart in Chaucer's source, Boccaccio's Teseide, probably refers to an event of December 18, 1381, when Anne came to England to become Richard Second's queen. 5 The coming of Queen Hippolyta to Athens suggested, as he thinks, the current event of greatest importance to London, the coming of her who was soon to be known as the Good Queen Anne. It was but 1 Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, ii, 243. The note was later embodied in the Temporary Preface to the Canterbury Tales, p. 103, and still later in Skeat's Chaucer (1897f.). 6 Froissart says that Anne sailed from Calais on Wed- nesday, landing in England the same day (see Chronicles, bk. ii, ch. 86). On the basis of Professor Skeat's calcula- tion that May 5, 1381, was Sunday, this Wednesday in Decem- ber would be the eighteenth. As Lowes notes, chroniclers vary a little in the date, and C. Oman {Pol. Hist, of England, THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 205 a step in the association of ideas to allude to what must have impressed Chaucer and his contemporaries as a singular instance of super- natural power. See the quotations from the chroniclers given in the article mentioned. Beyond this, so far as I have seen, there has been no further attempt to confirm so early a date for The Knight's Tale. Professor John S. P. Tatlock, in his Development and Chronology of Chaucer's Works, 6 argues for 1384-6, and Mr. A. W. Pollard, in his Introductionto The Knight's Tale (1903), assumes a similar period. Neither accepts the conclusions of Mather and Lowes, Tatlock arguing against them in detail. Yet further confirmation of the year 1381 is possible, I believe, from a passage which occurs near the close of the Tale, when Theseus is about to propose the marriage of Palamon and Emily. We may begin with line 2967 of Group A (1. 2109 of the Tale proper) , and continue through 2974, though not all the lines are equally important for our purpose : iv, 66) says Dec. 21. In discussing "The Prologue to the Legend of Good Women Considered in its Chronological Relations" (Publ. Mod. Lang. Assn., xx, 843) Lowes refers to his former article in Mod. Lang. Notes, and, regarding Professor Skeat's computation, mentions 'the very prob- able relation of the series in which it [the third of May] stands to the calendar of the current year.' In other words he seems to approve the use made of that computation. 8 Chaucer Society, Second Series (1907), p. 70. 200 OLIVER F. EMERSON ' 'By processe and by lengthe of certeyn yeres, Al stynted is the moornynge and the teres Of Grekes, by oon general assent. Thanne semed me ther was a parlement At Athenes, upon certein poynts and caas; Among the whiche poynts y-spoken was, To have with certein contrees alliaunce, And have fully of Thebans obeissaunce." To the first part of this passage there is a rough correspondence in Teseide xii, st. 3; "Dappoiche furon piu giorni passati Dopo lo sventurato avvenimento, Con Teseo essendo gli Greci adunati, Parve di general consentimento," etc. But for the last four lines there is nothing in the original, as Professor Lounsbury early pointed out in his Studies in Chaucer, i, 46 : The Italian work mentions days as passed and not years. It has no allusion to the summoning of a parliament for the purpose of considering questions of peace and war. These are the alterations and additions made by the English poet. Professor Lounsbury did not further explain the passage, and special attention has been called to it but rarely. Professor Skeat merely adds, on lines 2967-2986, "Cf. the Teseide xii, 3-5." Mr. Pollard has an interesting note on 'Thanne semed me," in his edition of The Knight's Tale: This strange phrase may be a reminiscence of Boccaccio's 'parve' in the lines 'Con Teseo essendo THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 207 gli Greci adunati, Parve di general consentimento Ch' i' tristi pianti omai fosser lasciati' — it seemed good to the Greeks in council to give over mourning. Otherwise we can only explain Chaucer's ' semed me' as a relic of the dream form in which he cast several of his earlier poems. Cf. 'saugh I' of 1. 1137. Even the first part of this note is not very con- vincing, while surely Mr. Pollard's free trans- lation of the Italian, especially his 'in council/ seems to imply a closer resemblance to the Eng- lish than actually exists. Only Mr. H. B. Hinckley, in his Notes on Chaucer, has attempted to explain the last four lines of the passage. Of these he says : " Chau- cer had probably heard something of the actual political union of Athens and Thebes (see p. 54), which he is here trying to recall. ' ' On the page cited he refers to "the establishment of the so- called Latin Empire of Constantinople (A. D. 1204), to which the Duchy of Athens was soon added as a fief." Some other details are given, but none that convince me Chaucer had in mind facts so remote in time and place. Far simpler and more reasonable than any of these explanations, it seems to me, is it to con- nect these lines with events that must have been in every courtier's mind, if not in that of every Englishman, during a considerable part of the year 1381 and the early part of 1382. I refer especially to that alliance of England and Bo- hemia which accompanied the marriage of Anne 208 OLIVER F. EMERSON and the young Richard II. If emphasis be placed on Chaucer's 'contrees' of line 2973, we may remember that the alliance of Bohemia and England was but part of a great European league for the support of Pope Urban VI against Clement VII, the schismatic. Of these the Bohemian alliance is more important for Eng- land. That accompaniment of the marriage con- tract has been little considered in the biogra- phies of Chaucer, and perhaps on this account its relation to these lines has not been fully appre- ciated. Yet it was highly important in its day, as it will be easy to show. Indeed, while alli- ances of a minor sort were rather frequent, especially during the reign of Edward III, there was no such alliance of independent states accompanied by a royal marriage to which the lines of Chaucer could refer, except this of the years 1381-2. Besides, it was just such an event as would have impressed the mind of the poet, himself more than once engaged in similar foreign relations of his country. To show at once that the alliance of England with a foreign state and the marriage of the young king were regarded as important, we need only note the language of Froissart. I quote from the translation of Johnes : About this same season, there were many councils held in England, by the uncles of the king, the pre- lates and barons, relative to marrying the young king Richard. The English would have preferred THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 209 a princess of Hainault out of love for that good lady queen Philippa, who had been so virtuous, liberal and honorable, and who had come from Hainault; but Duke Albert, at that time, had not any daughters marriageable. The Duke of Lancaster would will- ingly have seen the king, his nephew, married to his daughter, whom he had had by the 'lady Blanch of Lancaster, but the people would not have consented to this for two reasons; that the lady was his cousin- german, and too nearly related; and that they wished the king to choose a queen from beyond sea, in order to gain stronger alliances. The sister of the king of Bohemia and of Germany, daughter of the lately deceased emperor, was then proposed and the whole council assented to it. 7 Yet even the language of Froissart, explicit as it is regarding the wish for a foreign alliance, does not emphasize the importance of this league between England and Bohemia. To under- stand it fully, we must have in mind the more exact situation of England in this period. We must remember, that the war with France had already been carried on intermittently for forty years when Richard came to the throne; that the glories of Sluys, Crecy, and Poitiers had been 7 Chronicles ii, ch. 43; Johnes, i, 592-3. It will be no- ticed that Froissart, after mentioning the interest in the marriage, hastens to that choice which finally became the match. He places this interest in the king's marriage just after the death of Charles IV of Bohemia, Nov. 29, 1378. The rest of his account refers to later events. But Frois- sart also mentions earlier negotiations for the marriage of the prince Richard, as we shall see. 210 OLIVER F. EMERSON more than clouded by the later failures of the Black Prince and the great Edward; that the command of the sea had been lost, and large portions of the French possessions wrested from the empire in the early seventies; and that at the death of Edward III every port was closed, lest the news should place England at the mercy of her hereditary foe. 8 All these were reasons why England was in need as never before, and why Pope Gregory XI, in the exercise of his power as mediator, had tried to bring the war- ring nations together by the marriage of the young Richard, even while still heir to the throne, with a princess of France. 9 The failure of the efforts to bring England and France together in 1376-7 and the early part of 1378 was soon followed by an event quite as great in European history as the Hundred Years War. Richard II had been on the throne 8 Froissart's Chronicles, i, ch. 327; Johnes, i, 510. 9 In these negotiations regarding the marriage of the young prince, Chaucer was at least twice engaged. See the discussion in Skeat's Chaucer i, xxvii f . ; Longmans, The Life and Times of Edward III, ii, 271f . ; Froissart's Chronicles i, ch. 326, where Chaucer is mentioned as one of the negotia- tors. It may be noted also that the marriage of Richard did not become an important consideration until after he been acknowledged heir to the throne, just after the Black Prince died in 1376. Then the 'Good' Parliament, in the very month of the Black Prince's death, had Richard brought before it and proclaimed by the archbishop of Can- terbury as ' the true heir apparent of the throne ;' . Longmans, ii, 256. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 211 scarcely more than a year when Gregory XI died (March, 1378), Urban VI was elected, and before many months Christendom was torn asunder by the great schism of the papacy. This breaking of long-established religious relations had the most far-reaching consequences. The nations were now compelled to decide between rival popes, and the decisions brought a new alignment in western Europe. France naturally espoused the cause of Clement, the French pope. England received the representatives of both popes at the Gloucester parliament of October- November, 1378, and decided to hold with Urban. Under these circumstances there was no papal mediator to urge a close of the dis- astrous French war, or a union of the two coun- tries on the basis of a royal marriage. It was thus inevitable that England should look else- where for a queen, and for such alliances as she should thereafter form. We need not consider all the various sugges- tions of a bride for the young king, some of them noted from Froissart. Most interesting is the proposal of Katherine, daughter of that Bernabo Visconti to whom Chaucer had gone as ambassador in 1378, perhaps partly in con- nection with this same business of his young master's marriage. 10 The appointment of ne- 10 The conjecture is made by Professor Tatlock in The Development and Chronology of Chaucer's Works, p. 41. It is interesting to note that this match was highly considered 212 OLIVER F. EMERSON gotiators with Bernabo was made March 18, 1379, Michael de la Pole, Sir John Burley, and Dr. John Sheppey being named. 11 Of more im- portance are the negotiations which resulted in the marriage of Richard and Anne of Bohemia in 1382. I shall therefore undertake to pre- sent them in some detail, and emphasize some elements that have not hitherto been noted. To understand the negotiations between Eng- land and Bohemia we must keep in mind the important relations of the papal schism. That rupture not only made a new alignment of the nations in spiritual affairs, but separated, for the first time in many years, the traditional allies Bohemia and France. We need but remember that John of Luxemburg, the blind king of Bohemia, had fought and given his life as an ally of France at Crecy in 1346. It is no less significant of the strange changes which time brings that the Black Prince, father of the Richard who was soon to marry the granddaugh- ter of that same blind king, won his first vie- by some, at least. The Chronicon Anglice (Rolls Series 64, 331), speaking of the marriage of Anne, says: "Hanc igitur magno pretio, multisque coemptam laboribus, haben- dam rex prseelegerat, quamquam cum ina)stimabili auri sum- ma oblata f uisset et filia domini Mediolanensis Barnabonis." Perhaps the hostility of the writer to John of Gaunt may have had something to do with his apparent disapprobation of the marriage with Anne, perhaps only his belief that a bad bargain had been made. 11 Rymer's F'.tdera, vii, 213. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 213 tory at Crecy, and there, is sometimes said to have adopted the insignia of the dead Bohemian monarch, the three black ostrich plumes and the motto 'ich dien.' Charles IV of Bohemia, John's son, and father of Anne, continued the French alliance. Yet he was fully in sympathy with the election of Urban VI as pope, and there is little probability that he would have changed his allegiance, had he lived to consider the claims of the schismatic pope. He died two months and nine days after the election of Clement, or Nov. 29, 1378. Before Charles Fourth's death, or on Nov. 5, 1378, Clement had sent to the Bohemian court Bishop John of Cambray, 12 but early in the fol- lowing year Urban despatched, as papal nuncio, his efficient legate Pileus de Prata, cardinal of Ravenna. 13 Pileus reached the court of Wen- ceslaus in March, 1379, and urged him to hold with Urban, as Ludwig of Hungary was doing. He emphasized, as an effective argument with the young emperor then only eighteen, that to support Clement would make a heretic of Wen- ceslaus's father, only a few months dead. 14 For this and other reasons Wenceslaus remained firm, and even vigorously supported Urban. 12 Lindner, Geschichte des deutschen Reiches unter Konig Wenzel, i, 102, footnote. 18 Lindner, i, 94. 14 Hofler, Anna von Luxemburg, Denkschriften d. Wiener Akad., Phil, -Hist. Classe, xx, 130. Lindner, i, 113. 214 OLIVER F. EMERSON In connection with this support, he wrote a let- ter to Richard II of England, as early as May 20, 1379, suggesting an alliance against the schis- matic Clement. 15 Curiously enough, at this very time English commissioners might have been at the court of Wenceslaus, perhaps to discuss the question of a marriage between Richard and Anne. Six days after the com- missioners had been appointed to visit Bernabo Visconti, or on March 24, 1379, two of them, Michael de la Pole and Gerard de Lisle, were granted letters of safe conduct as about to go to the Roman court (versus Curiam Romanam) . 16 From Rome, perhaps at the suggestion of the pope, they went to Germany, where they were unfortunately imprisoned, to be released only after another commission had been sent from England with a ransom. 17 But for this, the negotiations for a marriage of Richard and Anne might possibly have been hastened. 18 15 Hofler, 127. Lindner, i, 95, gives a rhetorical extract from this letter, in which Wenceslaus professes that he is willing to shed his blood for the church. in Rymer, new ed. iv, 60. 17 Rymer, vii, 232; this commission is dated Jan. 20, 1380. 18 I say possibly, because the question as to whether these commissioners were to propose such a marriage rests upon the interpretation of a record in the Issues of the Ex- chequer (Devon, p. 224) of Jan. 9, 1384: "To Sir Michael de la Pole, Chancellor of England, lately sent from England to Milan, and from thence to the court of Rome to the King of the Romans and Bohemia as a King's messenger, to enter into a treaty for marriage to be had between the said THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 215 In this letter of Wenceslaus to Richard there was no mention of binding the alliance by a royal marriage. On the side of Wenceslaus, it was perhaps not thought of at this time. On the part of Richard's councilors, the idea of a peace with France, cemented by the marriage of Richard with a French princess, was still in mind. The latter is certainly shown by the appointment, on Sept. 26, 1379, of ambassadors to treat with "those of France" (cum illis de Lord the King and Anne Queen of England, taken prisoner in those parts under the safe conduct of the same King of the Romans, upon [his] return from the parts aforesaid." If this record is correct, the marriage of Richard and Anne was proposed somewhat earlier than has usually been supposed. The Exchequer record is followed by the writer of the article on Pole in the Dictionary of National Biography, which, however, is certainly wrong in some of its statements, as pointed out by C. G. Chamberlayne in Die Heirat Richards II von England mit Anna von Luxemburg (Halle, 1906). On the other hand the latter assumes that 'Curiam Romanam' above means the court of Wenceslaus, though admitting that its usual meaning is the papal court. This seems to me wholly untenable. Indeed, it is hard to believe that marriage nego- tiations with Bohemia were seriously considered in England during the winter of 1379-80. Twice while Pole was abroad (see above), commissions were appointed to treat with France and arrange for a marriage with a French princess. Perhaps, as the Exchequer entry is of Jan. 9, 1384, nearly two years after the marriage of Richard and Anne, Pole's later connection with the marriage arrangements was con- fused with this earlier mission to Italy and Rome. In any case, negotiations with Bohemia were taken up anew in June, 1380. 216 OLIVER F. EMERSON Francia). 19 The extent of the powers granted may be inferred from these words: Et ensement de Tretir, Ordenir, et Accorder oves- que nostre dit Adversaire, ou sez Procureres, sur Al- liances, Confederacies, et Amities, soit il par Mariage et Contracte de Matrimoigne de nostre Persone de mesme, ou par autre voie quelque soit, en general, ou en especiale, come vous semblera bon. Again on April 1, 1380, other ambassadors were appointed "De Tractando cum Adversario Francice," 20 with powers expressed in practically the same words. On the same day also, safe conduct was granted ambassadors of France to enter the English possessions and consider such treaty and marriage. For some reason the negotiations were fruit- less, as they had been so many times before. Possibly they were not carried out in entire good faith, for, on the first of March, 1380, an offensive and defensive alliance was entered into with Brittany. 21 Perhaps the explanation of the failure was in the influence of John of Gaunt and his anger against the alliance of France and Spain. 22 At least, on the twenty-third of May, 19 Rymer, vii, 229. 20 Rymee, vii, 248. 21 Rymer, vii, 236. " Liga Offensiva et Defensiva, conclusa per quattuor Commissarios Regis et Septem Com,missarios Ducis Britannioe." 22 Cf . C. Oman, Political History of England, iv, 19. Such influence of the Duke of Lancaster might also explain the THE DATE OF THE KNIGHTS TALE 217 power was given by the king to treat with the king and queen of Portugal, 23 and on the fifth day of July a treaty with them was made. 24 On the first of June, provision was made for invading France under the command of Thomas, Earl of Buckingham. 25 On June 24 the king sent to every bishop of England a recital of the treachery and bad faith of the French king in negotiating, the purpose to proceed with the war, and a request for the prayers of the clergy for the success of the expedition. 26 With such prep- arations the Earl of Buckingham set out, and from July 20 to October marched quite around Paris, finally reaching Rennes in Brittany. That his expedition was of little avail to Eng- land does not concern us here. 27 Under such circumstances, either peace with France, or marriage with a French princess, was equally impossible. Nor did Richard again consider such an alliance with his long-time enemy until 1396, when Anne had been in her grave more than two years. It was when these efforts at peace with France apparent preference of the anti-Lancastrian chronicler of the Chronicon Anglice for the marriage with the daughter of Bernab6 Visconti. See footnote 10. 23 Rymer, vii, 253. 24 Rymer, vii, 262f . 25 Rymer, vii, 256. 26 Rymer, vii, 260. 27 Froissart, Chronicles, ii, ch. 50f; Johnes, i, 604; and Oman, Pol. Hist, of Eng., iv, 19-20. 218 OLIVER F. EMERSON were a failure that an opportunity presented itself for a royal marriage and alliance with the house then representing all that was left of the empire of the Romans. The suggestion doubt- less came from abroad. We have already noted that Wenceslaus had written to Richard in May, 1379, 28 suggesting an alliance against schismat- ics. That letter was doubtless inspired by Cardinal Pileus, the papal nuncio to Bohemia, who was doing all in his power to bring the na- tions to the support of Urban. 29 Before another year had passed, through his efforts, all Ger- many, except the Duke of Brabant and the cities of Metz and Mainz, had bound themselves to the support of the Roman pope. 30 To further the same cause Cardinal Pileus went to England in the spring or early summer of 1380. This we know first of all from Froissart. He says: The Cardinal of Ravenna was at that time [the summer of 1380] in England and, being an Urbanist, was converting the English to the same way of think- ing. 31 Froissart was not wholly right that the cardinal of Ravenna was, at just this time, "converting 28 See p. 214. 29 Lindner, i, 94. 30 Lindner, i, 105: "Schon ehe der Reichstag zusammen trat, konnte Pileus an Urban gutes Bericht senden. Ganz Deutschland bis auf drei, . . hangen dem wahren Papste an." 31 Chronicles, ii, ch. 50; Jobnes, i, 606. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 219 the English," for Urban had been fully accepted at the parliament of Gloucester (Oct. 20 to Nov. 16, 1378) when legates from both popes pressed their rival claims. But there is other evidence that Pileus de Prata, the Ravennese cardinal, had come to England in the year 1380. On June 7 Richard granted to the cardinal certain rights in offices connected with Lichfield and Lincoln cathedrals, "on account of the good affection which we have for the person of the reverend father in Christ, the cardinal of Ra- venna, and for the good will and wish which he has shown us and our kingdom beforetime, and is showing at present." 32 It was doubtless Cardinal Pileus of Ravenna who, to strengthen the cause of Urban, first suggested to the English, or at least now urged upon them, an alliance of their country with Bo- hemia and the marriage of Richard with a Ger- man princess. This becomes more evident, as we see the full relations of the marriage to the politics of the papal schism. Pope Urban, as we have seen, had secured the allegiance of Wenceslaus. But Clement still hoped to bring him over to his side, or at least weaken his sup- port of Urban, by persuading him to continue the long-existing alliance with France. This 82 Pro bona Affectione, quam erga Personam, Reverendi in Christo Patris, Cardinalis de Ravenna habemus, et pro bona Voluntate et Delectione, quas ipse Nobis et Regno nostro hactenus monstravit, et indies monstrat." Rymer, vii, 256. 220 OLIVER F. EMERSON last he hoped to accomplish by the marriage of Anne of Bohemia, sister of Wenceslaus, and the son of Charles V of France, who was soon to become Charles VI. There had even been talk of this marriage of Anne and the Dauphin during a visit of Wenceslaus to Aix-la-Chap- elle. 33 This visit was made after the diet of Frankfort in April, 1380. 34 Besides, the saga- cious Charles V of France did not take kindly to the severing of relations with Germany, likely to result from the papal schism. Even 33 Valois says, in La France et le grand schisme d'occident, i, 300: "Durant un sejour de Wenceslas a Aix-la-Chapelle, on avait parle d'un mariage entre le dauphin, fils du roi de France, et Anne de Luxembourg, soeur du roi des Romains. Une entrevue devait avoir lieu entre Charles V et Wen- ceslas. ... La cour d' Avignon comptait beaucoup sur le r6sultat de cette conference. Entre autres personnages qui promettaient de s'y rendre, je citerai les envoy6s du roi de Portugal et, a leur tete, l'eveque de Lisbonne, qui deja preparait le discours avec lequel il devait convertir Wen- ceslas. Cette entrevue n'eut pas lieu: le roi des Romains, tournant le dos a Reims, reprit la route de Cologne. II se fit, il est vrai, reprcsenter a Paris par quatre ambassadeurs, mais l'acte, sans doute r6dig6 d'avance, dont ces derniers 6taient porteurs ne traitait que du renouvellement des alliances entre les deux maisons, sans souffler mot de ma- riage du dauphin avec la bohemienne Anne." I am indebted, for pointing this out, to my friend Professor G. L. Burr of Cornell University. As authorities for this statement Valois cites, Lettre du cardinal de Viviers aux cardinaux de Florence et de Milan, Baluzius, ii, 869; and his own edition of the Discours prononce" le 14 juillet 1880, en presence de Charles V. par Martin I'tveque de Lisbonne, in the Biblio- thhque de Vtlcole des Charles, Hi, 495, 500. ■'• Li .-i.nkk, i, 111, 116, 430. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 221 on his death-bed, in the early autumn of 1380, he said to his courtiers: Seek out in Germany an alliance for my son that our connections there may be strengthened. You have heard that our adversary is about to marry from thence to increase his allies. 35 Such a marriage with Anne of Bohemia was also urged when Charles VI had come to the throne. The Clementists saw in it their only hope of winning Wenceslaus and Germany. 36 This is fully implied in a letter of Cardinal Peter de Sortenac, quoted by Hofler. He writes: Nee est spes eum [Wenceslaus] pro nunc revocandi nisi per tractatum matrimonii, qui pendet de sorore sua danda regi Francie, in qua tractatu speratur, quod possit informari de justitia domini nostri et de prseservatione fame et honoris patris sui mortui et per consequens reduci. 37 We have also the testimony of the English chronicler Adam of Usk. Speaking of the Car- 35 Chronicles, ii, ch. 55; Johnes, i, 616. Charles V. died Sept. 16, 1380, and the passage shows that Richard's idea of a marriage with a German princess was known in France at this time. 36 Lindner, i, 113: "Die einzige Hoffnung, Wenzelzur Umkehr zu bewegen, lage in jetz schwebenden Verhand- lungen uber die Ehe zwischen seiner Schwester und dem Konige von Frankreich." 37 Hofler, 130, footnote: from Baluzius, Vitce Paparum Avinionensium, ii, 869. The last clause refers to the fear of Wenceslaus that, to recognize Clement, would make a here- tic of his dead father; see p. 213. 222 OLIVER F. EMERSON dinal of Ravenna, whose notary he was while the former was in London, Adam says : And after his departure, the said Lady Anne was bought for a price by our lord the king, for she was much sought in marriage by the king of France. 88 The attempt of Clement to draw Bohemia and France together through the marriage of Anne perhaps accounts for the renewed efforts of Urban to prevent that alliance. Thus, doubtless, Cardinal Pileus came to England to urge the league between Bohemia and Eng- land, France's enemy, perhaps also a marriage of Richard II with a German princess. Nor was such a suggestion of Pileus de Prata likely to be without great weight. Made bishop of Ravenna in 1370, he had long been engaged, as representative of the pope, in trying to bring peace between England and France. In con- nection with this duty he was given letters of safe conduct by Edward III as early as June 8, 1374. 39 He was papal legate at Bruges in the negotiations between England and France in 38 Chronicon Ados de Usk, ed. by Thompson, p. 102-3. The original reads: "Post ejus recessum, dicta domina Anna, per dominum regem magno precio redempta, quia a rege Francie in uxorem affectata," — p. 2-3. One cannot fail to notice that this rivalry of the king of France for the nand of Anna of Bohemia has direct relations to the interpretation of the Parlemenl of Foules. With that I have dealt in un article, "The Suitors in Chaucer's Parle- ment of Foules", Modern Philology, viii, 45. »»Rtmeb, vii, 39. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 223 1375, and he appears frequently thereafter in English records. 40 Coming at this time as representative of both the pope and the em- peror, it is not strange that he should have been readily heard by Richard's council. The suggestion of an alliance between Eng- land and Bohemia together with a royal mar- riage, was immediately taken up, it would seem. In this ready response the councilors of Richard were doubtless influenced by two motives. They desired a queen for their young king, and they strongly hoped to gain assistance against their old adversary, France. Besides, France and Spain had joined in a newly-formed league against the claims of John of Gaunt to the Span- ish throne, and this added a new reason for desiring aid from abroad. As a result, on June 12, 1380, commissioners were appointed to treat for a marriage of Richard with Katherine, daughter of Ludwig, "recently emperor of the Romans." 41 40 Rymer, vii, 51, 53, 56, 58, 61, 68, etc. 41 Rtmer, vii, 257: " De Tractando super Matrimonio inter Regem et Filiam Ludovici, nuper Imperatoris." In the commission the daughter is called "Dominam Katerinam Filiam, Celebris memorise, Ludowici, nuper Romanorum Imperatoris." The commissioners were accredited, how- ever, "tarn Serenissimi Principis Domini Wensalai Roma- norum et Bohemias Regis, Fratris nostri carissimi, quam ejusdem Dominse Katerinae et Amicorum suorum." This first choice of a German bride for the boy king seems peculiar to say the least. The only Ludwig "recently emperor of the Romans" was Ludwig of Bavaria, who had died in 1347. 224 OLIVER F. EMERSON The commissioners were Sir Simon Burley, Sir Richard Braybrook, and Bernard Van Sed- les, the first of whom had been appointed on the same day tutor to the king, then two months more than fourteen years old; that is, if born April 13, 1366, or a little more than thirteen if born January 6, or February 26, 1367. It was in connection with this appointment that Froissart says : Sir Simon Burley, a sage and valiant knight, who had been the king's tutor and much beloved by the prince his father, was nominated to go to Germany, to treat of this marriage, as a wise and able negotia- tor. 42 Every necessary preparation was ordered, as well for his expenses as otherwise. He set out from England magnificently equipped and arrived at Calais; from thence he went toGravelines and con- tinued his journey until he came to Brussels, where he met Duke Wenceslaus of Brabant, the Duke Al- His daughter, therefore, could not have been less than twice as old as Richard. But perhaps, at the beginning of these negotiations with a far-away country, a mistake was made, and Anne, daughter of Charles IV, king of Bohemia and em- peror of the Romans until his death in 1378 was from the first intended. At least the choice was soon changed, and the negotiations for the hand of Anne begun. Chamber- layne (p. 34) assumes a scribal error. 42 Chronicles, ii, ch. xliii; translation of Johnes, i, 593. Froissart's previous paragraph speaks of the "sister of the king of Bohemia and Germany," and just before mentions the death of Charles IV of Bohemia, which occurred Nov. 29, 1378. From this he runs on to the later years, as every- thing else shows this to have been the first mission of Burley. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 225 bert, the Count de Blois, the Count de St. Pol, Sir William de Maulny, and numbers of knights from Brabant, Hainault, and other parts, partaking of a great feast of tilts and tournaments; and it was on this occasion all these lords were there assembled. The Duke and Duchess of Brabant, from the love they bore the king of England, received his knight most courteously. They were much rejoiced on hearing the cause of his journey into Germany, and said it would be a good match between the king of England and their niece. 43 They gave to Sir Simon Burley, on his departure, special letters to the em- peror, to assure him they approved very much of this marriage. The knight set out from Brussels, and took the road through Louvain to Cologne. There is also further evidence in Froissart that the negotiations proceeded rapidly in the summer of 1380. In speaking of the invasion of France by the Earl of Buckingham, who left Calais on July 20, he says : 44 The English passed Terouenne without attempt- ing anything, for the lords de Saimpi and de Fran- sures were within it. They marched on towards Bethune, where they halted for a day; and I will tell you the reason. You have heard how King Richard, by the advice of his uncles and council, had sent into 43 This would be Anne, not Katherine daughter of Lud- wig of Bavaria. Froissart seems not to have known of the proposal for Katherine, or more likely, if a Katherine were ever really considered, the change to Anne had already been made. 44 Chronicles, ii; ch. 50; Johnes, i, 606. 226 OLIVER F. EMERSON Germany Sir Simon Burley to the emperor, to de- mand his sister in marriage. This knight so well managed the business that the emperor, by the advice of his council and the great lords of his court, complied with the request, but he had sent with Sir Simon Burley the Duke of Saxony, first to Lux- emburg and then to England, to observe that king- dom, in order that his sister might have a just account of it, so that, if agreeable, the marriage might be concluded. The Cardinal of Ravenna was at that time in England and, being an Urbanist, was converting the English to the same way of thinking; he was waiting also the arrival of the above-mentioned duke. At the entreaties of the emperor and the Duke of Bra- bant, he and all his company obtained liberty to pass through France to Calais. They therefore travelled by way of Tournay, Lille, and Bethune, from whence they came to visit the Earl of Buck- ingham and his barons, who received the Duke of Saxony and his suite honourably. The Germans continued their journey through Aire and St. Omer, and from thence to Calais. This very explicit statement makes clear that Sir Simon Burley was on his way back from Bo- hemia, with the Duke of Tetschen, or Saxony, by the latter part of July or the first of August, 1380, when the Earl of Buckingham was as yet only a little distance from Calais. There is also in one manuscript of Froissart further record regarding this visit of the Duke of Tetschen. It reads: 45 ** Chronicles, ii, at close of ch. 58; Johnes, i, 622. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 227 You have heard how Sir Simon Burley, that gal- lant knight, attached to the household of King Rich- ard of England, had been sent with proposals to the emperor in Germany respecting the marriage of the Lady Anne, his sister, with the king of England. He had transacted the business with ability, so that the emperor and his council consented; but he had brought with him, on his return, the Duke of Sax- ony, one of the council of the emperor, for him to observe the state of England, and to make inquiries concerning the dower, and how it was to be settled on the queen. . . . The Duke of Saxony was much pleased with what he saw and heard, particularly respecting the dower; he was well satisfied with the king and his two un- cles of Lancaster and Cambridge, for the other was in France, and also with the Earl of Salisbury, the Earl of Warwick, the Earl of Northumberland, and the other lords about the person of the king. When the duke had remained some time in England, and finished the business he had come upon, he took leave of the king, promising to persevere in the marriage to the conclusion. At his departure, he received handsome presents of jewels for himself, for those attendant on the person of the emperor, and also for the ladies who had the management of the young lady, Anne of Bohemia, the intended future queen of England. The duke returned, well pleased, to his own country; but this business was not immediately concluded, for the damsel was young, and the coun- cils of each party had many things to arrange; add to this, there shortly happened in England great misery and great tribulation, as you will hear recounted in this history. 228 OLIVER F. EMERSON In this passage the words "for the other was in France," following the mention of "his two uncles of Lancaster and Cambridge," refer to Thomas, Earl of Buckingham, whom the Duke of Tetschen had already met on the Continent; see the preceding quotation. But there is here still further proof that this visit of the Duke of Tetschen was in 1380 and not the next year, for in June, 1381, the Duke of Cambridge was sent to Portugal. 46 He therefore could not have met the Bohemian ambassador in the summer of that year, and the visit of the Duke of Tet- schen must have been in the preceding summer, as indicated by the other facts. But there is further evidence that the nego- tiations for the Bohemian alliance were far advanced in the year 1380. On Dec. 12 of that year, another commission was appointed to treat of the marriage. 47 That this commis- sion refers to the time after the first visit of the Duke of Tetschen is clear from the following words : Unde, cum, post aliquos Tractatus super hoc hab- itos, Nobiles et Illustres Viri, Domini, Przimislaus 40 The orders for the impressment of ships for the Earl of Cambridge are dated May 12, 1380, in Rymer (vii, 305), as noted by Armitage-Smith in his John of Gaunt, 263, footnote. 47 De Polestate contrahendi Sponsalia et Matrimonium cum Sorore Regis Romanorum, Rymer, vii, 305. This document occurs, not in its chronological place in the Foedera, but among the documents dated in May, 1381, when the articles of agreement were finally signed in London. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 229 Dux Teschinensis, Conradus Creyer Magister Curiae, et Petrus de Wartberg Magister Cameras ipsius Se- renissimiFratris nostri, ad nostram Prsesentiam Lon- dinise declinarent, de dicta Parentele contrahenda, ac de certis aliis Ligarum, Amicitiarum, seu Confcede- rationem Articulis extitit ibidem mutuo Concorda- tum. With the exception of Walter Skirlawe, who was also named commissioner, those appointed at this time were the same as on June 12. It seems but an extension of the powers originally granted, though after the Duke of Tetschen had spied out the land. The change of name from Katherine, daughter of Ludwig, to Anne, sister of the emperor, had also been made. These later negotiations were so far success- ful that it was decided to continue them in Flanders, the commissioners to assemble on the feast of the Epiphany (Jan. 6). 48 Somewhat 48 This paper was headed De Tractando super Matrimonio inter Reg em et Annam Sororem Impcratoris, Rymer, vii, 280. In it occur these words: "Unde, cum, post aliquos Trac- tatus, super hoc habitos, pro Negotii hujusmodi Conclu- sione, qusedam Diseta in Flandria fuerit assignata, pro cujus observatione Ambassatores solempnes, tarn pro parte ipsius Dominse Annse, et Amicorum suorum, quam nostra, debe- bant, juxta Conducta ibidem, in Feste Epiphanise Domini proximo convenire." This document says Anne was cho- sen "nedum propter ipsius Nobilitatem, set [sic] propter Famam celebrem bonitatis ipsius." Gairdner (Did. Nat. Biog., Anne) is unkind enough to suggest that this may have been because of Anne's probable lack of beauty, but the language of a serious state document surely does not justify this interpretation. 230 OLIVER F. EMERSON greater power was now given for the settling of the details of the marriage contract, and for this purpose Thomas, Duke of Kent, Hugo Segrave, and the indefatigable Sir Simon Bur- ley were appointed. This latter paper was dated the twenty-sixth of December, and on Jan. 12 safe conduct was granted to the com- missioners of Anne to come to Calais. 49 The negotiations now proceeded rapidly. On Jan. 23 Anne appointed the Duke of Tetschen, Conrad Kreyger, and Peter de Wartberg to act for her. 50 On the last day of January Eliza- beth, mother of Anne, named the same ambas- sadors to consent on her part, and on the first of February Wenceslaus, king of Bohemia and Roman emperor, gave them authority to make an alliance with England. 51 The decree of Wenceslaus gives, Potestatem Tractandi, Contrahendi, Iniendi, Fac- iendi et Consummandi, pro Nobis et hseredibus nos- tris Boemise Regibus, Amicitias, Uniones, et Ligas 49 The later date than that first mentioned would seem to imply that the commissioners did not meet as early as in- tended, but such delay may be explained by many another similar one of the time. 50 Rymer, vii, 282: " Liter a Procuratoria Annce Filice Caroli Imperatoris et Regis Boemice, ad Tractandum de Ma- trimonio contrahendi);" it is dated "x kalend. Februarii." 61 Rymeb, vii, 283: "Commissio Imperatoris ad Trac- tandum de Amiciliis et de Liga contra Scismaticos." It was dated at Nuremberg, and it may be seen to be carefully guarded from any other intent than the support of the pope THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 231 Fraternales, et etiam Colligantias, Statum et Ho norem Sacrosanctse Romanse Ecclesiee, et Sanctissimi in Christo Patris et Domini, Domini Urbani Papse Sexti, concernentes ad Exterminium Scismaticorum nunc Vigentium et Rebellium, prsesentium et futur- orum ipsius Domini, Urbani Papse prsedicti, et Suc- cessorum suorum Canonice intrantium, et per Col- legium Cardinalium, dicto Domino Urbano adhserens eligendorum, cum Serenissimo Principe, Domino Ricardo Rege Angliae Illustri, Fratre nostro carissimo pro se, et suis Hseredibus Angliae Regibus, etc. The negotiations in Flanders being success- ful and confirmed in Bohemia and England, on March 29, 1381, power was given to Edmund, Earl of Cambridge, Hugo Segrave, and Albert de Vere for concluding the treaty on the part of England. 52 For the same purpose the Duke of Tetschen and his colleagues were received in England May 1, 1381, and the treaty of mar- riage and alliance was signed on the second of that month. 53 This document consists of first, the treaty itself, Tractatus de Matrimonio Regis cum Anna Sorore Imperatoris; next a 62 This paper occurs in Rymer only at vii, 294, with other papers of the treaty signed in duplicate for the rulers of the two kingdoms. It is not in its chronological place. One point in the document is worthy of note as perhaps implying England's great interest in the alliance. While in the com- mission of Dec. 26, 1380, the points to be considered by the contracting parties are first the marriage, and second the alliance, they are here reversed and the subject of the alliance considerably extended. 63 Rymer, vii, 290-1. 232 OLIVER F. EMERSON recitation of the powers of the ambassadors, Tenores vero Procuratoriorum, de quibus superius fit mentio, sequuntur sub hac Forma. The latter are first from Wenceslaus himself as to the alli- ance, then Anne assenting to the negotiations; Wenceslaus again as to the marriage of his sis- ter; Elizabeth, mother of Anne, giving her consent; and finally Richard assenting and ap- pointing his ambassadors. These documents fill five and a half of Rymer's folio pages. Even these are not all the records connected with this royal marriage alliance. Several others fill subsequent pages of Rymer. 54 First is an Obligatio Imperatoris pro 20 Millibus Flore- norum, for the sum to be applied on the expenses in connection with the negotiations for the mar- riage; the Obligatio Ambassiatorwn [sic] de Summa Regi Romanorum mutuata; De Obliga- tione facta Regi Romanorum, by which Richard agreed to loan (mutuare) Wenceslaus 80,000 florins when Anne was safely conducted to Calais; a document De quietantia certarum sum- marum super Traductione Annce, Sororis Im- peratoris, in satisfaction of the former pledge of the emperor as to the 20,000 florins; 55 and M Rymer, vii, 295f. 66 The exact agreement was that the emperor Wenceslaus should advance 20,000 florins for the expenses of the nego- tiations and the journey of Anne; that, on her safe reception in England, he should receive a loan of 80,000 florins, 20,000 of which should not be returned as recompensing him for the expenses incurred. Still further, on receiving the Duke of THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 233 finally a further paper De Potestate tractandi cum Principibus Alemannice, super Ligis, this last dated the tenth of May. These numerous documents give some idea of the elaborate negotiations of Richard and his advisers with the king of Bohemia and emperor of the Romans. Yet there is further evidence of the extent to which the business was carried. In the first place, the pope had been influential in bringing England and Bohemia together, largely, it is very clear, for the support which Urban VI thus obtained against his rival Clem- ent VII. As already noted, 56 the cardinal of Ravenna had been in England a considerable time in direct representation of the pope. The result was that the alliance was accompanied with even more intimate relations of England and the papacy. These relations are indicated by a series of documents which show how fully Tetschen in May, 1381, Richard at once settled upon him 500 marks sterling for the term of his natural life. This was, in the language of the decree, "de Gratia nostra spe- cialist pro eo quod,Magnificum Virum, Przimislaum Ducem Teschinensem penes Nos et de Concilio nostro retinuimus, ad Terminum vita? suae moraturum, ac etiam pro bono Ser- vitio suo Nobis, impenso et in futurum impendendo." Sim- ilar amounts were also granted to Petrus de Wartemberg and Conrad Crayer, while sums of 500 gold florins were given to Borzewey de Swyner, 200 each to Sifridus Foster and Con- rad di Ridberg, and fifty marks sterling to Lupoldus de Crayer, son of Conrad. Rymer, vii, 288; I have preserved the spelling of the names as they appear in the decree. 66 See p. 218. 234 OLIVER F. EMERSON the pope and his artful legate 57 looked to their own interests. First is one giving the papal legate certain substantial rewards, De Fructibus Decanatus Eborum liberandis Cardinali Ra- vennas, dated May 3, 1381, the day after the 67 The extent of Cardinal de Prata's personal rewards from his sojourn in England may be best inferred from the words of the Chronicon Anglice, (Rolls Series 64, 283): "Pileus, tituli Sanctae Praxedis, presbyter cardinalis, per istud tem- pus venit in Angliam. . . . et regem Anglorum, et reg- num de inaestimabile summa pecuniae vacuaturus. Nam, ut asseruit, potestatem afferens inauditam, in brevi totum regnum ad ipsum confluere fecit pro diversis gratiis impe- trandis. Revera diversa diversis beneficia contulit; indul- gentias quas dominus papa concedere solummodo consuevit, et ipse concessit; biennales, triennales, confessionales literas quibuslibet solventibus gratanter indulsit. Ad capella- natumdomini papse tarn possessionatos quam mendicantes admisit, nee aurum eorum respuit, qui notarii publici effici precabantur. Altaria quoque portatilia nulli pecuniam offerenti negavit. Nee quadraginta libras, cum aliis donis Cisterciensium, repulit, quin gratiose concederet eis licen- tiam generalem vescendi carnibus extra monasterium indif- ferenter, ut in monasterio edere consueverunt. Excom- municatis gratiam absolutionis impendit. Vota perigrina- tionis ad Apostolarum limina, ad Terram Sanctam, ad Sanc- tum Jacobum, non prius remisit, quam tantam pecuniam recepisset, quantam, juxtaveram sestimationem, in eisdem perigrinationibus expendere debuissent. Et ut cuncta con- cludam brevibus, nihil omnino petendum erat, quod non censuit, intercedente pecunia, concedendum. Interrogatus autem in qua poteste hsec faceret, cum summa indignatione respondit, se Romse, si scire vellent ejus potestatem, omni- bus responsurum. Jamque adeo referti erant argento ejus sacculi, ut advenientibus ejus ministri respondere dedigna- rentur, nisi aurum efferent, dicentes, 'Afferte nobis aurum; argento namquc vestro pleni Bumus.' Recessurus autem, THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 235 signing of the treaty of marriage. 58 Then come the documents De Procedendo contra Scismati- cos, and De Potentate Tractandi cum Papa, de Ligis, both on May 5, and both appointing Sir John Hawkwood, Nicholas Dagworth, and Wal- ter Skirlawe to negotiate with the pope. 69 These are followed by papal bulls from Urban VI to Richard, dated Oct. 27, 1380, and March 18, 1381, and recorded on May 6. Then come the pecuniary rewards to the pope in a decree, De Fructibus Archidiaconatuum et Prcebendarum, aurum post se nequaquam relinquere voluit ; sed secum super summarios deferri fecit, ad tantam quidem summam, quan- tam nunquam Anglia in taxa vel tallagio semel pendere con- suevit." Adam of Usk (Chronicon, p. 2-3) is no less severe: "Ineundo cardinalis iste, false se fingens legatum a latere esse ac potestatem pape habere, vices papales tunc exer- cuit; me inter cetera notarium tunc, licet inutiliter, in domo fratrum predicacionis Londonie, ubi tunc morabitur, creavit. Infinitam pecuniam sic collegit, et ab Anglia cum eadem pecunia, eodem tractatu matrimonii expedito, ad sui re- cessit dampnationem; credens tamen, licet in vanum, facta sua hujusmodi per papam ratificari." Chaucer may well have had this prelate in mind when pointing some of his satire against the plundering clergy, as in the picture of the Pardoner, 'His walet. . . . Bretful of pardoun come from Rome al hoot.' 68 Rymer, vii, 296. Also the archdeaconate of Durham on July 11, 1381; Rymer, vii, 320. 69 It will be remembered, from the discussion of the dates of the incidents in The Knight's Tale, that this May 5, 1381, was Sunday. Numerous other important acts of the year are dated on Sunday, as those of June 23 and 30 in connec- tion with the Peasant Revolt, and that for conducting Anne to the king's presence, Dec. 1. The ratification of the treaty of alliance by Wenceslaus was also on a Sunday, Sept. 1. 236 OLIVER F. EMERSON per Cardinales Rebelles occupatorum, Popce Con- cessis, May 8. Finally, there is associated with these a delegation of power to Sir John Hawk- wood, Nicholas Dagworth, and Walter Skir- lawe, De Potestale Tractandi cum Ducibus et Dominis de Partibus Italice super Ligis et Ami- citiis. The alliance of England, that is, though usually thought of as with Bohemia only, in- cluded the papal states and Italy. These show the relations of both alliances to the support of the pope. As already noted (p. 208) it is possible that these further treaties with the papal states and Italy account for Chaucer's use of the plural ' contrees' in 1. 2973. Except for France and Spain, England was now united with most of the countries of western Europe in the support of Urban, though more especially with Bohemia by reason of the marriage alli- ance. The treaty with the king of Bohemia, signed by commissioners of the two countries on May 2, 1381, was formally ratified by Wenceslaus at Prague on Sept. 1 of that year. A letter to that effect is given in Rymer vii, 331, under the caption Ligarum, cum Rege, Ratificalio Im- peratoris. This has bearing on one point con- nected with the coming of Anne to England. It is often said that she was to have been re- ceived before Michaelmas (Sept. £9), 1381, and that she was delayed by the Rebellion of Wat THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 237 Tyler. 60 This idea is not fully justified by the original treaty, which specifies " circa Festum Sancti Michaelis proximo futurum" as the time when Anne should be brought "in Re^num nostrum Angliae, vel saltern ad villam nostram Calesii, per praedictos Amicos et Parentes ip- sius, et eorum expensis." 61 Besides, the late ratification of the treaty by Wenceslaus also makes such a supposition unlikely, if not im- possible. Indeed, safe conduct was not given to one of Anne's attendants, John Eutermynel de Luk, until Oct. 28 62 The commissioners to receive the princess were also not appointed until Dec . 1 . 63 Moreover, Froissart tells us that Anne was detained in Brussels "more than the space of a month" for fear of Norman pirates, rather than because of the troubles in England, of which in this place he gives no hint. 64 It is 60 Bilderbeck, Selections from Chaucer's Minor Poems, p. 72. Tatlock, Development and Chronology of Chaucer's Works, p. 42. ' 61 Rymer, vii, 301; cf. the Obligatio Imperatoris pro 20 Millibus Florenorum. 62 Rymer, vii, 335, Pro comitiva Annce futuroz Consortis Regis. 63 Rymer, vii, 336, De Domina Anna, Regina Futura, ad Prozsentiam Regis ducenda. 64 Chronicles, ii, ch. 86; Johnes, i, 681: "The Lady Anne of Bohemia remained with her uncle and aunt at Brussels upwards of a month. She was afraid of moving, for she had been informed there were twelve large armed vessels, full of Normans, on the sea between Calais and Holland, that seized and pillaged all that fell into their hands, and it was indifferent to them who they were. The report was current 238 OLIVER F. EMERSON true that, in another passage, 65 he sums up all the reasons for delay as follows: "For the damsel was young, and the councils of each party had many things to arrange; add to this there shortly afterward happened in England great misery and great tribulation . ' ' The latter clause probably refers to the Peasant Revolt. Yet the delay seems fully accounted for in other ways, and in any case that Revolt seems to have been but one of several causes tending to put off the marriage. The account of this alliance has been given at length to show, from the time consumed in the negotiations and the number of details and documents, how important it must have seemed to the people of the fourteenth century. In the first flush of its accomplishment, it must have made a particularly strong impression on the English court and the English people. No such far-reaching treaty had been made in that gen- eration. By it the traditional ally of France had been brought over to the English side, and great results were expected in the French war. Speaking of the attempts to find Richard a suit- able bride, C. Oman says: that they cruised in those seas waiting for the coming of this lady; and that the king of France and his council were desirous of carrying her off, in order to break the match, for they were very uneasy at this alliance of the Germans with the English. ... On account of these suspicions and fears, the young lady remained in Brussels one whole month. 65 See the quotation on p. 227. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 239 But a more splendid alliance was finally concluded with the sister of the monarch who held the highest titular dignity in Christendom, Wenceslaus, King of Bohemia and emperor-elect. ... A connec- tion with him was hailed with joy by the whole realm. 66 In his article on Richard II in The Dictionary of National Biography, J. Tout says : But the refusal of Wenceslaus of Bohemia, the new king of the Romans, to follow his relative and traditional ally, the King of France, in his support of Clement placed a much more brilliant match with- in Richard's reach. The opportunity of drawing central Europe into his alliance against France was not to be missed, and Richard knew Charles V to be seeking the hand of Wenceslaus's sister Anne for his own son (Valois, i, 300; Usk, p. 31). Urban used all his influence in Richard's favour. 67 Besides, we have the authority of Froissart that the alliance was seriously regarded by Eng- ~ 66 Political History of England, iv, 66. 67 If I may hazard an opinion, after reading all the acces- sible documents rather carefully, the forms of both the above statements give a wrong idea of the initiative in the alliance. John of Gaunt and the council of the king may have hoped for great assistance from it, but we can now see that the main mover in the whole procedure was the pope. More- over, the pope and Wenceslaus were the only ones greatly benefited by the alliance. The former gained support for his divided kingdom, the latter a vast sum for his personal pleasures. Though Anne made a good queen and was pas- sionately loved by Richard, England was mainly a pawn in the great game of international politics. 240 OLIVER F. EMERSON land's great rival. We have already noted the gravity with which the dying Charles V of France sensed the situation. 68 Moreover, speak- ing of the Norman ships in the channel when Anne was waiting in Brussels to go over to Eng- land, Froissart saj^s : The report was current that they cruised in those seas, waiting for the coming of this lady; and that the king of France and his council were desirous of carrying her off, in order to break the match, for they were very anxious at this alliance of the Germans and the English. 69 Everything shows that this English-German league made a profound impression in Europe as a whole. The importance of such a foreign alliance may well explain why it was in Chaucer's mind when, in writing the Palamon and Arcite, he came to the marriage of Palamon and Emily, an almost royal union between representatives of two in- dependent states. The likeness of the situation may easily have impressed him strongly, and the direct reference to things English have slip- ped into the narrative of things fictitious, to which the poet was giving a new reality in his verse. Such influence of things actual would have been especially natural during the last "See p. 220. "Chambeulayne, in the dissertation already referred to, undertakes to discredit this whole passage in Froissart, but it seems to me on insufficient evidence. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 241 part of 1381, or the first part of 1382. As we have seen, the Duke of Tetschen and his fellow commissioners arrived the first of May, 1381, though the treaty was not ratified until Sept. 1, and Anne did not actually come to England until after the middle of December. Then came the royal wedding, for which parliament was halted in its deliberations, to assemble again on Jan. 27. If Professor Lowes is correct in his explanation of "the tempest at hir hoom com- inge," 70 and his suggestion in the same paper that "the feste that was at hir weddynge"may be an allusion to the feasting at Anne's marriage, the further reference of the line, "To have with certein contrees alliaunce" would seem to confirm such a date, if not to establish it with practical certainty. There is perhaps even more confirmation of the point in the reference of the lines preceding those relating to an alliance: "Thanne semed me ther was a parlement At Athenes upon certein poynts and caas." These lines are also based on nothing in the orig- inal Teseide, but again have an unmistakable parallel in the events of the time in England. "Thanne semed me" is certainly Chaucer's own remark of the original Palamon and Arcite, unchanged when the story was given to the Knight of The Canterbury Tales. The 'parle- 70 Mod. Lang. Notes, xix, 240 f. 242 OLIVER F. EMERSON ment ' may as easily have been that which sat from Nov. 13, 1381, for exactly a month, when it was adjourned for the holidays, the coming of the new queen, the marriage, and the festiv- ities attending them. Owing to the latter events its sessions were not resumed until Jan. 27, much to the dislike of its members, we are told. It continued to sit until Feb. 25, and in both sessions had before it many weighty "poynts and caas" to be settled. The Peasant Revolt had made necessary various acts, as of indemnity for those who had put rebels to death without trial; annulment of the charters of freedom to villeins which the young king had granted to pacify the rebels; a general amnesty at the suggestion of Anne; 71 a change in the king's household, and the settlement of a quarrel between John of Gaunt and the Earl of Northumberland. 72 To this busy parliament, one which must have made a deep impres- sion at the time, Richard applied for a grant of money because of his approaching 71 There are two of these in Rymer (vii, 337, 345), both addressed to the Count of Kent. The first is entitled De Generali Pardonatione, ad Requisitionem Annce futures Con- 8orlis Regis concessa, proclamanda, and is dated Dec. 13, l.'iSl; the second De Pardonationibus, ad Requisitionem Anna: Regince concessis, proclamandis, dated Feb. 14, 1382 CX. S.j. The first refers with some warmth to the 'detest- able insurrection' (detestabile insurrectione, nuper facta). 72 Ckronicon Anglice, p. 328; Oman, Pol. Hist, of Eng., iv, 62-3. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 243 marriage with Anne. 73 While the treaty of alliance had already been entered into, the re- quest for money would certainly have brought discussion of the whole matter. Not unlikely, supporters of the measure made much of the great alliance just formed, and the expected advantage to England. Such, at any rate, would fully account for the allusion by Chaucer. Both parts of the reference, therefore, would point to the year 1381, more especially the lat- ter part when the alliance was to be consum- mated by the royal marriage. It may be argued that the last line of the allusion, "And have fully of Thebans obeissaunce," interferes with the suggested interpretation. To this it may be said that, except for the one word " Thebans, "this line is equally applicable to the circumstances of the time. Like 'Athenes' in line 2971, the word was necessary to the story, even if Chaucer intended an indirect reference to English affairs. Beyond this, the idea is equally foreign to the Teseide, and equally appropriate to English conditions. The quo- tation from Froissart on p. 208 is full proof that England wished such an alliance as would 73 Rotuli Parliamentorum, iii, p. 104a. The entry is in a paragraph relating what was done on Friday, Dec. 13, and as Parliament also adjourned on that day for the holidays, it is clear that the application could not have been later. 244 OLIVER F. EMERSON assist her in her long-standing quarrel with France. Especially John of Gaunt, the chief figure in the royal family, may well have de- sired an ally against France and Spain, now joined against his claim to the Spanish throne. 74 Perhaps this was the reason also, why the offer of Bernabo Visconti's daughter with a Vast amount of gold' 75 had been rejected. At least an active ally was felt to be important, and in the league with Wenceslaus the rulers of England thought they had secured such powerful aid against their enemies. To mention, therefore, the ' obeissaunce' expected of Germany would doubtless be in keeping with what Chaucer was hearing on every hand. It is not necessary for our purpose to point out that this great alliance finally proved of little advantage to England. Although the emperor Wenceslaus was willing to enter into an agreement against schismatics and for the support of Urban against Clement, he never seems to have had any intention of actively opposing the political enemies of England, especially France, to which he was bound by bonds of blood and friendship. This of course, did not become known until some time after Wenceslaus had consented to give his sister to Richard II for the considerable sum of 80,000 74 Cf. J. Armitage-Smith's John of Gaunt, p. 260f. 76 "Cum inaestimabile auri summa," Chronicon Anglice, 331. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 245 florins. Exactly when that sum was paid I do not now know, 76 but presumably it was at least before the Duke of Tetschen left England in August, 1382. 77 Meanwhile England continued her efforts to make a further treaty of league and friendship with the emperor, and a further com- mission was appointed. 78 The specific purpose of this league is clearly outlined in the instruc- tions. It was to be established, " Specialiter, in specialibus, contra Karolum Mod- ernum occupatorem Regni Francise, Ludowicum Comitem Valesii ipsius Germanum, Ludowicum An- degavensem, Johannem Buturicensem, et Philippum Burgundise, Duces, prsetensos, ipsius Karoli Patruos, necnon contra Johannem olim nominantem se Regem Castellae et Legionis, adhuc Occupatorem dicti Regni Castellae et Legionis, licet per Ecclesiam depositum et damnatum, et Robertum gerentem se pro Rege Scotiae, eorumque Haeredes, Valitores et Fautores." 79 The commissioners probably accompanied the Duke of Tetschen as he returned to Bohemia, but in any case their efforts were unavailing. Wenceslaus was more interested in his ease and personal pleasure than in fighting Richard's battles. He was willing only that some very 76 It was to have been within fifteen days after Anne's arrival (infra quindecim dies); Rymer, vii,301. 77 Safe conduct was given him by the council of the realm on August 12; Rymer, vii, 364. 78 Rymer, vii, 364; De Tractando cum Rege Romanorum et Boemice super Ligis et Amicitiis, dated Aug. 16. 1382. 79 Rymer, vii, 365, 246 OLIVER F. EMERSON mild agreement should be entered into. Such an agreement between the two kings may have been made. At least in March, 1383, 80 a proc- lamation of Richard speaks of the 'friendship and constancy' (sinceri amoris dulcedinem et intimaedilectionisconstantiam) between Wen ces- laus and himself, which 'are known to thrive and to have thriven' (vigere ac etiam viguissenos- cuntur) "longis retroactis temporibus ac etiam ex nova pridem affinitate contracta." The proc- lamation goes on to speak of 'certain treaties, confederations or compacts we have entered into' (quasdam ligas, confcederationes, sive pacta duximus inienda),and adds that we shall be now and in future true, loyal, and perfect brothers and friends (quod exnunc et in antea, temporibus perpetuis affuturis, veri, legales, ac perfecti fratres erimus et amici). As this was far from an offensive and defensive alliance we may perhaps surmise it was merely intended to strengthen the hopes of that crusade against the schismatic pope, Clement VII, which Urban VI had proclaimed, and for which England sent to Flanders a disastrous expedition under the fighting Bishop of Norwich. Yet the failure of the alliance of England and Bohemia, at least so far as assisting England against her enemies, could not be foreseen in the glamor of its first publication. Besides, Chaucer would be only too likely to reflect the 80 Rtmer, vii, 382. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 247 optimism of the court circle, when he made allu- sion to it in his new poem. The ultimate failure of the league, therefore, is no bar to the interpretation of the passage under discus- sion. The question may naturally arise whether, if these allusions bear so closely upon the events of the time, there may not be other passages which relate to similar circumstances. On the other hand, the value of such allusions is in their wholly incidental character, their almost unconscious inclusion in the author's work. We should not expect many such, in any poem not distinctly allegorical. Yet an examination of other parts of The Knight's Tale with this in view has revealed one slight allusion that, in connection with the more significant passage above, may have relation to the year 1381. It will be remembered that Palamon and Arcite are said to be, "of the blood royal Of Thebes, and of sustren two y-born" (11. 1018-9). This royal relationship is again referred to in Arcite's speech, 11. 1545-51 : "Alias, y-broght is to confusioun The blood royal of Cadme and Amphioun; Of Cadmus, which that was the firste man That Thebes bulte, or first the toun began, And of the citee first was crouned king, Of his linage am I, and his of-spring By verray ligne, as of the stok royal." 248 OLIVER F. EMERSON Further than this the relation of the brothers to royalty is not explained by Chaucer, nor, so far as I find, in the Teseide. Yet when praising Palamon to Emily in 1. 3084 Theseus makes the very distinctive statement, "He is a kinges brother sone, pardee." This quite exact description of relationship is in a passage to which there is no counterpart in the Teseide, according to the comparison made by Mr. H. S. Ward. 81 As we have been already told by Chaucer that the two lovers are children of two sisters (1. 1019), we must now assume that they are, at the same time, sons of two brothers. This is no impossible condition, of course, but it seems strange that, if it were of importance enough to chronicle, it should not have been mentioned in the first, or an early reference to their relationship. Moreover, though the 'blood royal' has been mentioned, we are nowhere told that either is a king's son, except in the general sense of lines 1545-50. If this were a possibility in Chaucer's mind, why should he not have made the praise of Palamon greater by calling him a king's son at once? On the contrary, we are now virtually informed that Arcite's father was a king, and Palamon's was not. This is the more 81 See the side notes to the Six-text edition of The Canter- bury Tales, Chaucer Society Publ., Cambridge and Lans- downe MSS., and the reprints of the latter. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 249 surprising, also, since the passage is apparently one of praise for Palamon, though really detract- ing from the rank of the hero, as compared with that of his dead cousin. All things considered, therefore, the expression warrants some expla- nation, and a not unnatural one may be found in another indirect allusion to the young king. We have seen how Chaucer associated the marriage of Palamon and Emily with that of Richard and Anne, at least so far as to refer to circumstances of the latter's coming to England in lines 2967f. The situation perhaps had another parallel in his mind when he made Theseus address Emily as 'suster' in line 3075, and Chaucer refer to her as such in lines 1833 and 2818. Theseus thus stands in the same rela- tion to her as did the emperor Wenceslaus to the future wife of Richard. Even if this ele- ment in the parallelism of situation did not in- fluence the poet, he had still used it sufficiently \so that, in praising the bridegroom Palamon, he may easily have turned in thought to the royal Richard, and used language exactly applicable to him. Not a king 's son himself , Richard was the son of a brother of one who, for a decade, had been accepted by the English as the right- ful king of Spain. The young Richard II was actually, therefore, that which it would seem 250 OLIVER F. EMERSON Palamon could scarcely have been, a 'kinges brother sone.' 82 This relationship, so understood of Richard, is one which we might easily miss. We give little attention to the claim of John of Gaunt to the throne of Spain, because we know how completely he failed to make it good. 83 It is needless to say that the England of Richard's time thought differently. Not only was John of Gaunt the richest and most powerful noble, but he was by all odds the greatest figure in England during the last years of Edward the Third's reign and most of Richard's. His claim to the throne of Spain was fully allowed. He was regularly called King of Castile in the royal degrees and commissions of the time. 84 There was every reason, therefore, why an Eng- lish poet of the last quarter of the fourteenth century should have thought it an honor to 82 Although making no mention of this passage or possible allusion to Richard II in Chaucer's Knight's Tale, Hofler does call special attention to just this peculiarity of the situ- ation: "Es war eine schwerwiegende Thatsache : Richards Oheime waren Konigssohne, aber nicht er, der Konig." Anna von Luxemburg, p. 121. 83 That is, in his own case. But by the treaty of 1388 with Juan I of Castile, John of Gaunt' s daughter Kath- erine married the Infante Enrique, and as his wife be- came queen of Castile in 1390. The arrangement was a virtual acknowledgment of John of Gaunt's claim to the throne, at least in the person of his heir. "See the documents in Rymer's F aider a after 1371. In these he is regularly called John, King of Castile, or Castile and Leon, before he is named Duke of Lancaster. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 251 speak of him as king. Moreover, to recognize this relation was real praise to the young Rich- ard. He was but a boy of fourteen or fifteen. Except for his dramatic appearance before the revolting peasants in the summer of 1381, he had been no real influence in active affairs. He was still to remain in leading strings for five years more. Though a king in name, he was still best known to his people as son of the Black Prince, and nephew of his royal uncle of Lancaster. Besides, to refer to him as 'kinges brother sone' was not only true to the facts, but at the same time a delicate compliment to the powerful duke. Here, then, is another allusion which could scarcely refer to a time much later than Rich- ard's marriage in January, 1382, and would more likely be thought of by the poet when the mar- riage was in every one's mind. It would still further strengthen the suggestion that The Knight's Tale was written about the time of Anne's coming to England, or at least not long after the marriage. 85 86 One might almost question whether the tale, to which Chaucer gives the title ' Palamon and Emelye' in the next to the last line, may not have been one of his contributions to the court festivities at the marriage of Richard and Anne. At least the lines "Betwixen hem was maad anon the bond That highte matrimoigne or mariage, By al the conseil and the baronage," based only in a general way upon the Teseide, would also 252 OLIVER F. EMERSON To sum up the discussion in relation to the dating of The Knight's Tale. If the reference in the line, "To have with certein contrees alliaunce," can be applied to the alliance of England and Bohemia, or to that and the other alliances con- nected with it, as I think has been sufficiently shown to be in the highest degree probable, the date of the poem must have been after May 1, 1381, and more probably after September 1, when the alliance was ratified by the king of Bohemia. If, too, the allusion, "Thanne semed me ther was a parlement At Athenes, upon certein poynts and caas," refers to the parliament of which Richard asked a grant of money, on account of his approaching marriage with Anne of Bohemia, the date of this part of The Knight's Tale must be between November 13, 1381, and February 27, 1381-2. describe English conditions. Such a supposition as to the use of the Tale might give special point to the supplication, 1)1 need in the present tense as if more than a device for vivid- ness, "And God, that al this wyden world hath wroght, Sende him his love, that hath it dere aboght." M:tythere not have been, even here, some lurking suggestion of the long series of negotiations, and the long waiting, since the marriage with Anne had been first proposed? ( )f course this latter point should not be pressed, and would be of no value without the more important lines already noted. THE DATE OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE 253 The latter part of this time, or more especially that after December 18, would exactly suit the time of the allusion in the line, "And of the tempest at hir hoom cominge, if Professor Lowes is right in referring that line to the storm, or tidal disturbance at Anne's arrival in December. If, as he also thinks, the line immediately preceding, "And of the feste that was at hir weddynge," may refer to the feast at the marriage of Richard and Anne, the time need not be carried forward beyond the latter part of January, or the month of February. There is, also, perhaps, some confirmation of the date in the description of Palamon in language that would be certainly true of Richard, "He is a kinges brother sone, pardee." In other words, all these allusions would fall 'within the current year 1381, as the year was then reckoned. They would also help to con- firm the apparent reference in another part of the poem to May of that year, as shown to be possible by Professor Skeat many years ago. Perhaps, from the discussion, it will not seem wrong to go one step further. Even if the com- putation of Professor Skeat is not accepted, or there be hesitancy in agreeing with the con- clusions of Professor Lowes, the more signifi- 254 OLIVER F. EMERSON cant allusion to the great English-German alliance and the parliament in which it was surely discussed is sufficient to establish the last part of 1381, or the first months of 1382, as the certain date for the composition of Chaucer's Knight's Tale. OLD ENGLISH MODIFICATION OF TEUTONIC RACIAL CONCEPTIONS BY CHRISTABEL F. FISKE, PH.D. It is difficult for an Anglo-Saxon to deal for any length of time with our racial epic, Beowulf, without becoming greatly interested in the indications it contains of certain conceptions common to the whole ancient Teutonic race, conceptions which, transplanted through Low German invasion to the British Isles, under- went very definite development or modifica- tion. I shall, in this brief study, endeavor to trace as far as the year 1066 the evolution of some of these conceptions as they flourished on English soil. Three lines of tendency, marking respectively the development of the political, the scientific, the religious ideas, will claim our attention. The first of these tendencies manifests itself in distinct indications in Beowulf of the atti- tude toward two dependent classes, women and criminals. In regard to both, the evolution of sentiment between 449 and 1066 is extremely interesting. Women are mentioned in Beowulf about fif- 256 CHRISTABEL F. F1SKE teen times. Three references are merely general and casual. 1 Hildeburh 2 and the widow of Beowulf 3 stand strikingly before us, chief wail- ing figures in the sorrowful groups mourning at roaring funeral-pyres the fall of the mighty dead. We have, also, Hygd drawn as the grace- ful, lavish young mistress of Hygelac's castle. 4 Wealtheow, Hrothgar's queen, a gracious, noble figure, moves gold-adorned among the war- riors at the feast. 5 Her attitude is free and proud, and she openly advises her royal husband. As in the funeral ceremonies, so here her innate force has given woman a quasi-official position. Wealtheow it is who, advancing to the centre of the hall, formally recognizes Beowulf as cham- pion of her people, and receives his oath of fidelity. 6 She it is who rewards him for his service with the wonderful necklace, most princely of state treasures. 7 The innate force of the Teutonic woman rendered her conspicuous not only in social ceremonies and feasts. While her lord was at war she performed as important economic functions as did the medieval woman at the time of the Crusades. Upon her devolved the 1 Beo., 993, 941, 1282, 1283. 2 Ibid., 1114. 3 Ibid., 3150. *Ib;, al swuch he schal mowe, and everuyches monnes dom to his owere dure churrej> ('turns'). Of the uncertainty of life, "thus quoth Alfred," For nys no wrt ('herb') uexynde ('growing') a wude ne a velde, J>at ever mvwe ('may') J>as feye ('of the fated man') iurp ('the life') vpholde ('save'). Not ('knows not') no mon J>ene tyme hwanne he schal heonne ('hence') turne, ne no mon J»ene ende hwenne he schal heonne wende ('go'). Of endurance and suffering, "thus quoth Alfred," If pu hauest seorewe, ne seye pu hit nougt pan areowe ('caitiff') ; seye hit pine sadelbowe, and ryd pe singinde for}?. Of overmuch talking, "thus quoth Alfred," Forpi ('therefore') ich holde hine for dote ('a fool') pat say}) al his wille panne ('when') he scholde beon stille. For ofte tunge brekep bon, peyh heo'seolf nabbe non ('though itself have none'). Of the training of children, "thus quoth Alfred," For betere is child vnbore pane vnbuhsum ('disobedient'): pe mon pe spare yeorde ('rod') and yonge childe, ALFRED THE GREAT 361 and let hit arixlye ('rule') J?at he hit areche ('control') ne may, J>at him schal on ealde ('old age') sorereowe ('rue'). One will at once recognize that not all of these sayings were original with Alfred. The inter- esting fact is that they were attributed to him; thus they show the estimation as a wise man in which Alfred was held. These stories and proverbs, apocryphal though they are, show the popular medieval estimation, the traditional conception, of Al- fred. The general nature of this conception is plain. If there were tales celebrating Alfred's exploits in war, few traces of them are pre- served. In this respect, as we have seen, Alfred cannot compare with Hereward, the hero of the Saxon struggle against the Normans. His fame is of a different kind. As a boy, though celebrated for his skill in hunting, he is better remembered for his love of learning, earning the beautifully illuminated book of poems. And of the Alfred of later life, the qual- ities most celebrated are the humility in the herdsman's hut, the kindness to the beggar, the religious character shown in his dependence on divine assistance, the justice in establishing laws, and the wisdom in uttering proverbs. As Carlyle has urged, in all superstition, all quackery, if we go far enough back, there is a germ of truth. In the same way, in these me- 362 GEORGE K. McKNIGHT dieval traditions we have clues which, followed far enough back, will lead us to the fundamental facts in Alfred's character. In the traditional Alfred are reflected the features of the real Alfred. Let us then compare the real King, as re- vealed by history, with the King of popular tradition. To begin with, Alfred was a great warrior. Of his personal valor we have evidence in the account of the Battle of Ashdown, where, com- manding the van of the English forces, without waiting for his brother King Athelred, who re- fused to march until mass was over, Alfred time and again charged ''like a wild boar" up the hill covered with thick brushwood, and after a stubborn struggle won a victory. Of the general success of his campaigns it is sufficient to say that he, the last bulwark of England, proved strong enough finally to check the invaders, to save Wessex, and to give the impetus to the reactionary struggle which under his successors brought the rest of England from under Danish sway. Yet these martial virtues, though possibly most conspicuous, were hardly the most funda- mental of his character. His successes against the Danes were doubtless due as much to his administrative ability and his soundness of judgment as to his personal valor. His reor- ganization of the English army and his construe- ALFRED THE GREAT 363 tion of the long boats with which to oppose the Danes on their own element were, in the final issue, factors more important than his courage. This administrative ability Alfred also showed as a lawgiver. In compiling his code he was no innovator; he did not venture to make radical changes, because, as he says, " It was unknown to me how much of this would please those who are to come after us." He took accordingly the best from the old codes, striking out what no longer suited conditions. His regulations, moreover, in some respects seem to us absurd in their minuteness. The Mosaic doctrine of "an eye for an eye" is so extended that each part of the body has its fixed value. The loss of an eye in fight costs the aggressor sixty shillings, six and a third pence; of a thumb, thirty shillings; of a little finger, eight shillings. The loss of an ox's horn must be paid for by ten pence, of a cow's by two; of a cow's tail, on the other hand, by five pence, of an ox's by only four. One great value of Alfred's laws lay in their uniformity. As the basis of his work, he used the codes compiled by earlier kings, Athelbert for Kent, Ine for Wessex, and Offa for Mercia; from these Alfred formed one code for the three kingdoms combined under his rule. More im- portant, however, than this uniformity was the spirit which he recommended in applying his code: "By a single law one may judge every wrong. One needs no other books of laws. Let him impose upon no man a judgment which 364 GEORGE H. McKNIGHT he would be unwilling that the man should im- pose upon him." Yet notwithstanding all that he accomplished in defending his country and in reforming its administration, Alfred's chief title to fame must rest upon something else: it is as the pro- moter of learning that he stands preeminent among sovereigns. Among English kings Ed- ward I, Edward III, and Henry V were as re- nowned in war; Henry II was probably a greater lawgiver. But there is hardly to be found, cer- tainly not in the English royal line, a ruler so genuine and so sincere in his desire to further the cause of learning. The same zeal by which he won the illumi- nated manuscript in his boyhood Alfred showed later as king. He was fond of entertaining strangers and of getting from them a knowledge of foreign lands. He invited to reside at his court learned men from Mercia, from France, from Saxony, even from Wales. Thus sur- rounded by men of learning he did not content himself, as some other monarchs have done, with idle speculation and the selfish cultivation of his own mind . James I might have done that. But Alfred's aims were more generous, more noble. For the instruction of his people and the restoration of scholarship in England he set him- self and his associates the task of compilation and translation. The product of their labors was a number of important books in English on church government, general history, ecclesi- ALFRED THE GREAT 365 astical history, and philosophy. These works, measured by modern standards, do not "bulk large;" yet they form a body of vernacular writings unique for their time, the nucleus about which in the two centuries following grew a considerable vernacular literature. From this rapid summary it will be seen that there is striking agreement between the his- torical estimate of Alfred and the medieval traditional conception. Both history and tra- dition emphasize the same qualities. Alfred's heroic defense against the Danes, conspicuous as it may be, is not his greatest achievement, whether viewed by the light of history or that of tradition. His most distinguished services were those rendered the causes of justice and of education. There is a striking comment made by Florence of Worcester, a Latin chronicler of the eleventh century, who says that Alfred's son Edward "was inferior to his father in learn- ing, but surpassed him in dignity, might, and grandeur." With the judgment of Alfred's character suggested here, we have seen that historical estimate and popular tradition agree. Alfred the Great was preeminently Alfred the just, the wise, the good. Whoever would understand the nobility of his character, will find the keynote in Alfred's own words : ' ' This I can now truly say, that so long as I have lived I have striven to live worthily, and after my death to leave my memory to my descendants, in good works." THE CELTIC RITE IN BRITAIN BY MARY A. MOLLOY, PH.D. The object of this paper is to present, as con- cisely as possible, the main points in which the Celtic Rite in Britain, prior to, and contem- porary with, the time of Saint Augustine of Canterbury, differed from the Roman Rite, introduced and put into practice by Saint Augus- tine and his followers, at the time of his coming into England in 597. The term "Celtic Rite" is "rather indefinitely applied," says Jenner, ia to the various rites in use in Great Britain, Ireland, perhaps in Brit- tany, and sporadically in northern Spain, and in the monasteries which resulted from the Irish missions of Saint Columbanus in France, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy, at a time when rites other than the Roman were used wholly or partially in those places." Did the limits of the paper permit, it would be of interest to trace the history of the Celtic Rite as it was observed in France and Spain, and later on in Britain : to contrast the charac- 1 The Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. iii, p. 493. THE CELTIC RITE 367 teristics of the Celtic Rite with those of the other Rites, several of which are in use to-day, as the Coptic Rite, the Mozarabic Rite, the Greek Rite, and so forth. However, interesting as a complete discussion of the Celtic Rite might be, it is quite possible that it would fail in ap- positeness, for it is only the period of its history when the Celtic Rite existed in Ed gland side by side with the Roman Rite, that is of particular interest from the point of view of English ecclesiastical history, or English eccle- siastical literature. /. There were some differences in the liturgy of the Mass. In the twenty-seventh chapter of the first book of Bede's Ecclesiastical History we read the question of Saint Augustine to Pope Gregory as follows : Whereas the faith is one and the same, why are there different customs in different churches? And why is one custom of Masses observed in the holy Roman church, and another in the Gallican church? The term " Gallican," in the text, may refer only to the ritual brought over from France by the chaplain of Queen Bertha, and used by him in the church of Saint Martin at Canterbury. Whether the term is local in its application, or more general, as referring to the practice in 368 MARY A. MOLLOY the church in Britain in proximity to Celtic influence, is not satisfactorily settled. In either case, that the liturgical differences were not in essentials, we may judge from Pope Gregory's reply to Augustine: You know, my brother, the custom of the Roman church in which you remember you were bred up. But it pleases me that if you have found anything either in the Roman, or the Gallican, or any other church, which may be more acceptable to Almighty God, you carefully make choice of the same, and sedulously teach the church of the English, which as yet is new in the faith, whatsoever you can gather from the several churches. . . . Choose, there- fore, from every church those things that are pious, religious, and upright, and when you have, as it were, made them into one body, let the minds of the English be accustomed thereto. The chief manuscripts containing portions of the Celtic liturgical Rite are as follows: A. The Stowe Missal, 2 an Irish manuscript of the eighth or ninth century. It was discovered in the eighteenth century, and came into the possession of the library of the Duke of Bucking- ham at Stowe. It is now in the possession of the Royal Irish Academy. It contains a treatise on the Mass; the Ordinary and Canon of the Mass; three Masses; and instructions and 2 Royal Irish Academy Publications, 1885. Edited by B. MacCarthy. THE CELTIC RITE 369 orders for the administration of some of the Sacraments. B. The Bobbio Missal, 3 a manuscript of the seventh century. It was found at Bobbio in Italy, and is now in the Bibliotheque Natio- nale in Paris. C. (a) The Book of Dimma 4 and (b) The Book of Mulling, 4 both manuscripts probably of the eighth century, now in the library of Trinity College, Dublin; (c) The St. Gall Fragments, 4 (d) The Basle Fragment, 4 and (e) The Zurich Fragment. 4 II. There was a difference in the form of tonsure worn. At the beginning of the twenty-sixth chapter of the third book of the Ecclesiastical History we read : Colman, perceiving that his doctrine was rejected and his sect despised, took with him such as would not comply with the Catholic Easter and the tonsure (for there was much controversy about that also) and went back into Scotland. . . . In his translation of the Ecclesiastical His- tory, 6 Dr. J. A. Giles says: 3 In Ancient Liturgies of the Gallican Church. Published by Neale and Forbes. 4 In Liturgy and Ritual of the Celtic Church. Warren. 6 Fifth edition, London, 1884, p. 160. 370 MARY A. MOLLOY The tonsure, properly so called, does not appear to have been adopted for the first three centuries of the church; but originated with the earliest professors of the monastic institutions as a distinctive token of their renunciation of the pleasures of the world. Towards the close of the fifth century it began to be considered, both in the Greek and Latin churches, as a necessary rite for admission into the clerical offices; but who were the originators of the circular modes is not known. The Roman clergy shaved the crown of the head, which was surrounded by a circle of hair, supposed to represent the wreath of thorns forced by the cruelty of His persecutors on the temples of the Messiah, and which they pleaded had descended to them from Saint Peter. The Scottish 6 priests permitted the hair to grow on the back, and shaved the forepart of the head from ear to ear in the form of a crescent which their opponents called in derision, the tonsure of Simon Magus. The probable derivation of the derisive epi- thet is of interest. "There is no real evidence," says Jenner, 7 "that this crescent tonsure was the form favored by the Druids, yet it was desig- nated as the tonsura magorum. The term magus was accepted as equivalent to druid, and to this day the Mo^ot of Matthew ii (1 et seq.) are druidhean in the Scottish Gaelic Bible." Whether or not the crescent tonsure was actu- ally worn by Simon Magus, I have been unable • I.e., the Irish. 7 Cath. Ency., vol. iii, p. 494. THE CELTIC RITE 371 to determine: whether it was or not, it seems quite likely that the advocates of the coronal tonsure, or "tonsure of Saint Peter," in their defensive zeal would particularize the term magus, and identify it with Simon Magus ac- cursed of Saint Peter. 8 III. There was a difference in the method of reckoning the date of Easter. The Easter controversy, as it was called, dates as far back as 160 A. D. In its course, it passed through three distinct phases. The first phase turned primarily upon the question whether the feast of Easter was to be celebrated on a Sunday or on a week-day. The observance of the feast on a week-day arose from the Jewish tradition of observing the Pasch on the fourteenth day of the moon, irre- spective of the day on which the fourteenth of the moon fell. The diversity in observing the feast on a Sunday and on a week-day existed from the early decades of the Christian era. Saint John the Apostle followed the so-called Quarto- deciman observance — "Quartodecimani" being interpreted as " devotees of the fourteenth." The decision that Easter was to be observed on no day but Sunday brought the first phase of the controversy to a close in 190 A. D. 8 See Acts, viii, 20-21. 372 MARY A. MOLLOY The second phase in the Easter controversy turned upon the reckoning of the Sunday on which the feast was to be kept. The Asiatic Christians observed their Easter on the Sunday after the Jews kept their Pasch, that is on the Sunday after the fourteenth of Nisan, the first spring month. The Western Christians of Rome and Alexandria, at variance with the Asiatic Christians, calculated Easter by a method dif- fering from the Jewish method. The Jews arbi- trarily intercalated months before Nisan, their first spring month, on the fourteenth of which their Pasch was celebrated. The resulting lack of regularity in date from year to year may be inferred from the letter of Constantine sent to the different churches sometime after the Council of Nice, 325 A. D. : . . . It seemed unworthy that we should cele- brate that most holy festival with a copy of the Jew- ish rites and customs, . . . there are those who celebrate a second Pasch in the same year. 9 And why should we imitate those who are certainly afflicted with the malady of error? Those who celebrate the Pasch on the fourteenth moon, caring nothing for the equinox, sometimes did so after the equinox, sometimes before it, because the fourteenth moon rose at that time. 10 8 Constantine means that two Paschs sometimes fell due between one equinox and the next. 10 Quoted from Theodoret by Parsons, Studies in Church History, vol. i, p. 113. THE CELTIC RITE 373 The Alexandrians decided that the Sunday to be observed as Easter must fall after the spring equinox, which was dated on the twenty-first of March of the Julian calendar. The second phase of the Easter controversy was finally settled by the Council of Nice, which decreed: 1. Easter was to be celebrated by all through out the world on the same Sunday. 2. This Sunday must follow the fourteenth day of the paschal moon. 3. The paschal moon must be the moon whose fourteenth day followed the spring equi- nox. But a new difficulty developed. Rome and Alexandria calculated the paschal moon by dif- ferent lunar cycles. Rome adopted the one-hun- dred -and-twelve-year cycle of Hippolytus, which was subsequently discarded in favor of an eighty- four-year cycle. Alexandria followed the nine- teen-year cycle of Meton. About the middle of the sixth century, Rome adopted a new cycle of ninety-five years, or an equivalent of five Egyptian cycles. On this difference in the stand- ard of reckoning rests the third phase" of the Easter question. The Easter Controversy in Britain. Christianity was introduced into Britain some time during the Roman occupation. It may have been in the second century, but we have 374 MARY A. MOLLOY positive evidence for the date 182 in the time of Pope Eleutherus. The conquest of Britain by the Saxons in the middle of the fifth century all but effaced the religion of the island. The adherents to the faith were driven westward to Wales. In 432 we find the conversion of the Irish begun by Saint Patrick, and in 563 we find Saint Columba establishing the monastery of Iona, whence missionaries were sent out to the north of England and to the Continent. When Saint Augustine began the christian- izing of the Saxons in Britain in 597, he found the British Christians reckoning Easter by the eighty-four year cycle, which Rome had aban- doned. The British and the Irish were unwill- ing to accept the method of reckoning followed by Augustine and his monks, but adhered tena- ciously to the ancient manner of calculation. As the Roman monks advanced from Kent northward into Northumbria they found the converts made by the Irish monks zealous in their religious observances according to the Celtic Rite. An illustration of the resulting state of affairs is presented in the twenty-fifth chapter of the Ecclesiastical History. We read : At this time (652) a great and frequent controversy happened about the observance of Easter, those that came from Kent or France affirming that the Scots 11 11 I.e., the Irish. THE CELTIC RITE 375 kept Easter contrary to the custom of the universal church. . . . Queen Eanfleda 12 and her follow- ers also observed the same as she had seen practised in Kent, having with her a Kentish priest. . . . Thus it is said to have happened in those times that Easter was twice kept in one year; and that when the king having ended the time of fasting, kept his Easter, the queen and her followers were still fast- ing, and celebrating Palm Sunday. As the dispute regarding the date of Easter began to occupy the thoughts of many, a synod was called in 664 at the monastery of Streon- eshalh 13 to settle the question. Colman, bishop of the Scots, came thither as the defender of the Celtic tradition; Wilfred, afterwards arch- bishop of York, upheld the custom of Rome. Colman defended the Celtic practice as having been followed by many holy men, among whom was Columba. Wilfred responded that if Columba had been informed of a better prac- tice he would have observed it as readily as he observed the commandments of God. Convinced at length by the reasoning of Wilfred, King Oswy, 14 heretofore a staunch adherent of the Celtic practice, declared him- self ready to conform to the teaching of Wilfred. The king's example was followed by many of his subjects. Although the British and Irish 12 Queen of Northumbria. 13 Afterwards called Whitby. u King of Northumbria. 376 MARY A. MOLLOY Christians did not all immediately conform to the Roman Rite, still the Synod of Whitby practically marks the end of the Easter contro- versy. Besides the main points noted above as char- acteristic of the Celtic Rite, there was a slight difference in the manner of administering some of the Sacraments, and a difference in the details of the ceremony for consecrating a church. From time to time, the divergent points were gradually relinquished, or brought into harmony with the Roman Rite. Finally at the Synod of Cashel, Malachy, the bishop of Armagh, effected the general adoption of the Anglo-Roman Rite in 1172. TEXTUAL NOTES ON LAYAMON. BY BENTON S. MONROE, PH.D. References are to the lines 1 in Sir Frederic Madden's edition of Layamon's Brut; A = the earlier text, about 1205 2 ; B = the later text, about 1250-1275. 3 Other abbreviations are: BS. = Bradley-Stratmann's Middle English Dic- tionary; Matz. =Matzner's Altenglisches Worter- buch (A - misbileven) . 6 B. void pan gode cnifite: cnipte (for cnihte) is probably dative plural, 'with the good ser- vants,' i.e., ' monks,' an interpretation supported by 13116, where cnihten means the inmates of a monastery. Thus the two texts are in sub- stantial agreement. 302 f. This passage reads like a reminiscence of the hunting of William Rufus and Sir Walter Tyrrel. 1 By an oversight on p. 15 of vol. i. Madden failed to count one line; hence the total number of lines in the poem is 32242. 2 As determined by Madden and generally accepted. Sweet alone of modern scholars dissents, asserting on grounds not stated that the older ms. was written before 1200 (History of English Sounds, §582). 3 The New English Dictionary gives the date sometimes as 1250 (s.v. alaski, befall), sometimes as 1275 (s.v. bow, catch). 378 BENTON S. MONROE 313. hea der: 'royal game.' In Chronicle E 1086 the phrase refers to the harts and hinds and boars of William the Conqueror's forests. 490 B. wro pere hele, also 29556. "Not origi- nally a compound word, but afterwards be- came so" (Madden, iii. 444); apparently felt as a compound as early as the second text of Lay., as also in Body and Soul 450 (Matzner, Altenglische Sprachproben, p. 103) and Piers Plowman, C. xvi. 301. Later occurrences are noted by Mead in The Squyr of Lowe Degre, p. 63. Cf. godere hcele 3597, and Dame Siriz2Ql. 570 f. par he mihte bihalden pe hi halues were. 'There he (indefinite = any one) who might be (were = subjunctive) near could behold,' a formula occurring also at 1007-8, 23881-2, 24423-4, 26315-6, the last three passages having me instead of he. 655. feie. Here and in 1715, 2478, 'fey' seems to mean 'dead,' the later text having dead in each case; cf. also pu scalt beonfeie 2291 = pou salt dea)e. 757. bache: a palatalized form of OE. -becc (in place-names), doublet of beck; cf. hatch, heck. The more common ME. spelling of such palatal- izations appears in bcecchen 21776. Cf. Mad- den's note, iii. 446; Bjorkman, Scandinavian Loan-Words in ME., p. 148. 1026. droflicen: the only occurrence of this word in ME. Madden renders 'grievous.' NOTES ON LAYAMON 379 1292. wunnan: OE. wynn, 'joy' in the ma- terial sense of 'possessions;' equivalent to 'things,' 'goods' (3421); so 22668, 26378. 1435. han for haven, habben; the earliest example I have noted. 1460. bleinte: 'blenched'; one of a small group of words in which before the consonantal combinations -nc, -ng, -nh, e- developed into a ME. diphthong, ei; cf. Hart, Standard English Speech, p. 43; Morsbach, Mittelenglische Gram- matik, §107, Anm. 3. In these words Lay. has a curious variety of forms: adrengte 2568, drengte 12111 (B adreinte, so 21629), adrenten 20974, adrente 25698 (B adreind); aseingde 25697 (aseint); bleinte 1460 (bleinte); leinten 30625 (leinte); gengden 12865 (geinde), geinde (geinde) 1594, 4568, 10767, gende 30421; mceinde 4318, 17739 (meingde), mceingde 14368 (meynde), mengde 15530, 25126 (meinde); swende 6424, 26053 ([sw]einde), sweinde 8183, 21423 (swey- ncde), 27627, 27780 (sweinde). \ Apparently, then, the diphthonging was a process of the early thirteenth century, com- pleted by the time of the second text. 1970 B. turne: "probably the contracted (or strong) form of the past tense" (Madden, iii, 454) . Madden notes several such forms, many of those in the earlier text being corrected by a second hand: )cereke to ^cerekede 6111, luue to luuede 11072, etc. Following is a full list, in- cluding those given by Madden, of such clipped preterits. 380 BENTON S. MONROE answare 7739, 10988, 14874, 15454, 25234 B, 31493B. biburien 2097. cleope 2673B, 10370B, 11620, 16525, 20128B, 21981, 22127, 22825 B; in 16375 cleopede has de interlined by the original hand. ende 26817. forhusce 3171 ; BS. and Matz. would read forhuste. gadere 3820, 3844, 5247, 5486, 9252, 10380 B, 12405 B, 17572, 25352 B, 29088, 29667, 30009, 30502. [help 9263]. loue US7B, 6055, 6983 B. make 3175, 6581 B, 14809, 28067; cf. footnote to 29432. somne 20491 B, 22327B, 28670 B. stike 7533; BS. prints stike{de). strene 11185 B, 15581 B. turne 1970 B, 3069 B, 17527 B. wedde 14391 (rime wedde: bedde). wone 7020 B, 14320 B. "Similar forms are found nearly two centuries later, in the Wycliffite Bible" (Madden); see the glossary to Skeat's edition (Oxford, 1879) s.v. clepe, etc. They appear frequently in the metrical Zi/e ofSt.Cuthbert* (about 1450), nearly always in rime, as wedde above; cf. Lessmann, Englische Studien, xxiv. 187-191. The phe- 4 Edited by J. T. Fowler for the Surtees Society, vol. lxxxvii, 1889. N NOTES ON LAYAMON 381 nomenon in Lay. is confined for the most part to verbs of the second weak conjugation (Lange, Das Zeitwort in den beiden Handschriften von La)amon's Brut, Strassburg, 1906, p. 129) ; yet note strene first weak. Lange adds, "Die dreisilbigen Formen dieser Konj. wurden von den Sprechern und den Schreibern gern ge- kiirzt." 1989, 1993. Icende: preterit of lenden, 'pro- vided with lands, enfiefed.' 2512. alch mon mihte far en $end hire lond paih he here reed gold. A proverbial expression; an earlier instance than those noted by Madden, iii. 314, may be found in Bede, ii. 16. 2545. uniselSe: OE. ungesseW with a stronger meaning; the word has developed from passive 'unhappiness' to active 'wickedness.' 2568. The use of poison is not infrequent in Lay.; cf. 11326, 14998, 17740, 19768, 28778. 2678. Maidene castel: several castles have been thus called. To Madden's note we may add Malory, Morte Darthur, book xiii. chap, xiiii., and Scott, Kenilworth, chap. xix. 2836. Bladud: on this king see Sayce, The Legend of King Bladud, in Y Cymmrodor, x. 207-221. 3257. finden. 'supply, furnish, provide with,' a common meaning (not given in BS.), surviv- ing dialectally in America. 3895. preo dozies hit rinde blod: cf . Chronicle 382 BENTON S. MONROE F 685: Her wearp on Brytene blodi ren. ond meolc ond butere wurdon gewend to blode. The whole passage rather recalls the plagues of Egypt, Exodus, vii-x. 4213 B, 23954. ileired: BS., questioning the form, cites the second passage under ^efce^rien, '?make fair.' The word seems, however, to belong under leiren. The sense in Lay. is 'overlaid;' cf. 4213 A ihelede, 'covered.' 4226 B. tolimikede: read tolimede. 4264. burje: the only occurrence of the letter j, except in proper names, in the printed text of Lay. 4566. sceht: 'went, fell out'; preterit of sse)en, OE. ssegan. 4738. graneden, 5199 greine, 23909 grceneden: in Matz., but not in BS.; cf. Bjorkman, Scand. Loan-words in ME., p. 55. 4751. sixti pusende: Wace says quinze mil- liers; cf. 28293 an hunddred pusende = Wace soisante mil. With reference to the enormous armies which the imagination of Layamon con- jured up on the field of battle, the following paragraph is worth quoting: ''I have lost no opportunity of testing these [extraordinary estimates of numbers by the Chroniclers], wherever possible, by comparison with more authentic personal or Record evi- dence, the last being the only authority really trustworthy. The result is that I find again that multiplication by ten might almost be N NOTES ON LAYAMON 383 called a normal rate of amplification. Whether dealing with the strength of an army, or the produce of a tax, the student prima facie will do well to take one-tenth of any number given if he would arrive at a proper estimate. In some cases that proportion would be found too large." — Sir James H. Ramsay, The Angevin Empire, p. vi. 4785. sckere: an adj., 'clear, free' = scere 12752 ; a quasi legal term occurring in the form scyr in Chron. E. 963, Plummer, p. 116. 5228. irumed: from OE. geryman. BS. and Matz. cite the participle only with unrounded i. 5641. to^ernde, 10042 to^erneS, 29010 toje- ornden: a compound not noted in BS. 6099. bezste. The glossary, p. 530, s.v. bet, has be)st, etc., whereas in the text these forms have z instead of ). 6302. sprong pat word wide: cf. 26242; a formula of frequent occurrence, earliest in Beowulf 18. 6312. pe la)e hehte Marciane: see further references on the Martian law in Plummer, Life and Times of Alfred the Great, p. 63. 6508. and to pan king weo&ede: Madden was right in taking weoSede as = wse&de, pret. of OE. wseoan, meaning specifically 'to hunt/ but here used in a more general sense : ' and to the king leaped/ 'upon the king sprang.' Not inBS. 6725. pringe: for dringe; so 12448, 14461, 384 BENTON S. MONROE 14966B; also in the compound here-pringen, 22080, 23800, etc. 7027 B. pf }eo were fair and fore = A )if heo wes a wiht hende: fair and fore sounds like a proverbial alliterative formula; if so, fore must have been common. Madden translates fore by 'good'; better perhaps would be 'active.' The word is to be connected with faran; it may- be a miswriting of fere 5 (cf. feore 17618 A), though o for e, however frequent in the earlier text, does not occur in the later. We find, how- ever, o for ea, lok = leac, in B 15311. Such a scribal error may have been helped by the rime fore: hore. For the spelling o cf. Sweet, History of English Sounds, § 682. 7223-4. wale pat eceuere ei sucche mon in to eazlde sculde gan. Ecelde is not an error for helle as Madden as- sumed, following the B text, but = elde, 'age'; cf. celdde 2989, celde 24118, ealde 25913 B. The meaning is ' Alas that ever any such man should grow old.' 7526. & Julius noht ne na brw&: breed is a palpable corruption, -ce<5 being on an erasure. I propose the reading bread for abread {abreocSan, 'fail'), 'Julius did not give up.' 7675. bli&ere, ' cowardlier' : comparative of Mead = bletSere 23620, which the first hand wrote bleiere, comparative of bleat. BS. has only bletere. 6 On this word see Bjorkman, Scandinavian Loan-Word? in Middle English, p. 237. NOTES ON LAYAMON 385 8039. to-]ere: ' to-year', like 'to-day' ; so 12477, 14657 B, and frequently. 8086. iboned, 'adorned.' The word belongs with ibon 12805, 14294, 25788, 32037. This is the earliest instance of the inorganic -d. Matz. in his note on 14294 says of iboned "frei- lich auffallend," and in his dictionary, ''irrthiim- lich gebildet." 8133. twuelbrede: not 'game board' as BS., but 'table-board,' the board on which the game of tables was played; cf. B pleoide mid tavel. For an account of this game and its relation to chess, together with comments on the treatment of the word in dictionaries, cf. Fiske, Chess in Iceland, pp. 69 ff., 157 ff. 8176 B. mid grampene strengpe: gram pene should be printed as two words; the meaning is 'with (the) furious strength'; cf. mid hure gram reses 5200 B, where A reads mid grimme oure rwsen. This order of words, the article or a possessive between the adjective and the noun, is a mannerism of Layamon's style, the two texts together from line 6 to line 32060 furnish- ing nearly three hundred examples. The phe- nomenon is not unknown in Old English; a noteworthy example is on wlancan pam wicge in the Battle of Maldon 1. 240. 8632 B. soch: for soh, sdh, preterit of sigan; similarly ch appears for h in dochter 3373, ocht 18355, 18426. 8785. auerst: apparently an error for auerft = 386 BENTON S. MONROE auereft, 'ever hereafter.' Matzner notes the phrase, but has no examples earlier than Robert of Gloucester. 9798. to-stope?i, to-stepen 17406; both pret. indie, pi. This compound is not in BS. 11791. a&neowe: adj. 'ready' (Madden); a 6 = e& = ed, OE. ed (ead) - neowe. Not in BS. or Matz. 11973 B. pirkede ( = A swurhen) . Bosworth- Toller, s.v. Sweorcan, suggest the reading dirkede, 'became dark.' The p is perhaps due to peost- ren. Not in BS. 12256 B. beor-time = bere-time (OE. here), 1 bear- ing-time, birth.' An unrecorded compound. 12517. cceppen (B cnihtes); cf. keppe 19949 (B kempe). Perhaps a miswriting for cseppen, keppe = ccemppe, kemppe. 12752. scere: cf. above on 4785. 12834 B. stilleworpe: apparently a corrupt form of stalwurpe. Madden's translation 'peaceful' (as if connected with still) does not square with the context. A has cehte. 14029. Madden's translation of hit wes heom at hele as 'it was safety to them' does not fit the context; cf. B hii hadde mochel care. Hence, if it be not too modern, read helle for hele: 'it was hell to them' (the Picts). 16952. to brosene: read tobrosened, participle of lobrosnian, 'decayed.' For a similar loss of d in the past participle cf. igadere 18659. NOTES ON LAYAMON 387 17501. )ewur&ede: The prefix ge-, normally becoming i- in Lay., is here preserved, the only instance in the poem. 18730. seollic: in form an adjective, yet here and often elsewhere, 19600, 23025, etc., used as a noun. The word develops like ferlic (ferli) from fcerlic. 18836. ceuere: occurs repeatedly as a quasi substantive in the phrase longe is (beo3) ceuere, 18836, 23159, 28122, etc., a reduction of the longer formula swa longe swa bid ceuere, 20823, 23179, etc. Cf . ' forever is a good while. ' 21744, uniuele, 22018 unfcele. A comparison of these passages shows that BS.'s 'insensible' (OE. ungefxle) is too strong; better would be 'harmful' (pinge, water). In 23868, guided by onseale in B (cf. unisele 26446), for unuele read unsele. Apparently unfcele is applied only to inanimate objects. 22153. sunded, also 24766, and seondeS 27319: variants of sunden, -e6 for -en, possibly on the analogy of the regular verb. A further anomaly is sunde 24278, for be (o), third sing, pres. subj. 22297. beouweden. The first scribe seems to have meant this for a weak preterit of bu)en, OE. bugan. The second, altering to beoveden, apparently meant 'shook,' using bivien, OE. bifian, transitively. The former makes better sense. Matzner records a weak pret. bouwed in La> 16572 B, the corresponding line in A 388 BENTON S. MONROE having the strong form bu)e)en for bu)en. Lay. has beoueden, 'quivered/ as an intransitive verb in 28357. 24539. gu&inge: connected with god; cf. god- liche 18857, gudliche 860, gu&liche 99, go&liche 10761, gutSfulle 2956, 11531; gouthliche Dame Siriz 5, in Matzner, Altenglische Sprachproben, p. 105. 25440. purh-costned: for Madden's 'com- pletely provided,' adopted in BS., read 'thor- oughly experienced.' 25509. for-leoseden: not, as Madden assumed, a weak preterit of forleosen, but = forloseden 26270, preterit of for-losien. 27030 B. afor.ged: read aforewed = aforewerd; r is similarly lost info&e for for &e 3226, 14819; fomest for formest 18440 B, etc. 27797. prcefliche: an adverb formed on prcef-, in prafian, prafung; 'in crowds, oppressively, furiously.' 29145. sum hit to Wales wende: an early in- stance of (h)it as the impersonal (cognate) ob- ject of the verb. Cf. also pus heo hit longe bitumen 7536, and Chron. E 1009; Sa after mid- danwintra hi namon pa cenne upgang ut purh Ciltern and swa to Oxneforda and pa burh for- bcerndon and namon hit pa on twa healfe Temese to scipan weard. 29400. bilaste: 'fulfilled, made good'; the short- ened form of the preterit of OE. *bilxstan. The compound with be-, bi- seems to have escaped the lexicographers. NOTES ON LAYAMON 389 29987. alo&ede: Madden's 'submitted' is evi- dently ad hoc; the form is from ala&ien: al hit him alo&ede; pat he on lokede = 'it all became loathsome to him that he looked on.' Yet this does not accord very closely with the context. 30787. here-cnihten: The dictionaries have heredring, herekempe, heregume, etc.; herecniht should be added. 31087. whit sunne: white in the sense of 'beau- tiful/ an early example. In this transfer lies the origin of white as a term of endearment in the Elizabethan period and during the seven- teenth century (e.g., Roister Doister, i. 1.49; Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, vii. 66; A Look- ing Glasse for London and England, 1282; cf. note by Collins in his edition of Greene, i. 299), and thence of white as a slang term of commen- dation. 31500. ar& = arj < OE. earh; so we find & for 3 in peond 1604, peden 3635, lipe 13703 B; and cf. Widre ceastre sa'reChron. E 1087. 31812. ioxned: 'oxened, provided with oxen, yoked,' a coinage by Lay. like OE. gehorsian. Not in the dictionaries. ADDISON AND GRAY AS TRAVELERS BY CLARK S. NORTHUP, PH.D. I. It may be worth while at the beginning of this paper to recall the fact that Addison and Gray were almost the only literary men of importance in their day who traveled in the south of Europe and left records of their impres- sions. 1 Neither Dryden nor Swift ever saw the Continent. In 1727 Swift had thoughts of trying the waters at Aix-la-Chapelle; but he took Bolingbroke's advice and staid at home. Locke, Addison's predecessor in the commission- ership of appeals, saw France and the Low Coun- tries, but was turned back from an intended trip to Rome in 1678 by the dangerous condi- tion of the Alpine passes. Collier apparently did not leave England. Steele saw service for a few years (from 1G94 on) in the second troop of Life Guards, but has left no record of having 1 The attitude of too many Englishmen toward travel in the eighteenth century was that which DeFoe (about 1728-9) admirably described in The Compleat English Gentleman (ed. Biilbring), pp. 38-39. ADDISON AND GRAY 391 crossed the Channel. The author of Robinson Crusoe and A New Voyage Round the World apparently never got farther away than Scot- land; his Tour Through Great Britain (1724-6) may or may not be partly based on personal experiences. Pope spent his whole life in Eng- land, about which he traveled somewhat. Of Gray's contemporaries Richardson passed his life in England, and Fielding lived there until the last year of his life; his Journal of a Voyage to Lisbon was posthumously published. Conyers Middleton visited Rome. Johnson was a con- siderable traveler, making journeys to the Heb- rides, Wales, and Paris. An intended journey to Italy was abandoned on account of the death of Thrale's son. 2 Goldsmith's travels are well known, of course, through chapter xx of The Vicar of Wakefield. Gibbon spent much time on the Continent, traveling in Italy between April, 1764, and May, 1765. Hume visited Austria and northern Italy. Shenstone never left England. Collins visited France, but left no record of his journey. Finally, the travels of Walpole are known to us chiefly through his celebrated Letters; he apparently disliked more formal composition. It is my aim to record the results of a com- parison of the observations of Addison and of 1 See "Johnson's Travels and Love of Travelling," Bos- well, Life, ed. Hill, iii, 449-59. 392 CLARK S. NORTHUP Gray 3 on what they saw in the course of their travels. What were the objects that impressed each of them most? To what extent can each be pronounced an observer typical of his own time? In what way do their travels appear to have affected their subsequent writings in general? II. In the summer of 1699 Addison crossed the Channel to Calais and went at once to Paris. 3 In this study the following writings have been examined: ADDISON. Remarks on Several Parts of Italy, &c, in the Years 1701, 1702, 1708. London, 1705. In Addison's Works, Bohn's Standard Library, London, 1890, i, 356-538. I have re- ferred to the latter edition as more generally accessible. Letters. In his Works, ed. Bohn, v, 322 — 340, written be- tween September, 1699, and May, 1703 (France, Italy, and Germany). Letter from Italy, to the Right Hon. Charles Lord Halifax, in the year 1701. In his Works, ed. Bohn, i, 29-37. See also Samuel Johnson, Life of Addison, in Prefaces Bibliographical and Critical to the Works of the English Poets, London, 1779-81 ; Nathaniel Ogle, Life of Addison, London, 1826; Miss Aikin's Life of Addison, London, 1843, i, 97-131, chapter iv; Macaulay, "The Life and Writings of Addison," The Edinburgh Review, July, 1843, lxxviii, especially pp. 204- 213, also in his Critical and Miscellaneous Essays, ed. Mon- tague, London, 1903, iii, 328-339; J. J. Ampere, La Grece, Rome & Dante, Paris, 1854, pp. 163-165; J. Murray Graham, An Historical View of Literature and Art in Great Britain, 2d ed., London, 1872, pp. 233f . ; W. J. Courthope, Addison, Lon- don, 1884, pp. 38-52, chapter in; Edmund Gosse, "Addison's Travels," in Literature, December 11, 1897, i, 241f., re- ADDISON AND GRAY 393 The record of his experiences in France is con- tained only in his letters. Writing to Con- greve from Blois in December, he enthusiasti- cally described Versailles and Fontainebleau. The situation among rocks and woods gave "a fine variety of savage prospects." "There is an artificial wilderness in the meadows, walks and canals, and the garden, instead of a wall, is fenced on the lower end by a natural mound of rock-work that strikes the eye very agreeably." Of Versailles he thought the pleasantest part printed in H. D. Traill, ed., Among My Books, New York, 1899, pp. 51-56; Camillo von Klenze, The Interpretation of Italy During the Last Two Centuries, Chicago, 1907, pp. 20-22. I have not seen Jean Le Clerc's Observations upon Mr. Addison's Travels through Italy, etc. . . . Done from the French by Mr. Theobald, London, 1715, which, von Klenze says, "amount to nothing but a short abstract of Addison's book." Nor have I seen N. Drake's Essays, Biographical, Critical, and Historical, Illustrative of the Taller, Spectator, and Guardian, London, 1805. GRAY. Gray's Notes of Travel. France, Italy, Scotland. In Dun- can C. Tovey, Gray and his Friends, Cambridge, 1890, pp. 201-265. Journal in France. In his Works, ed. Gosse, 2d edition, London, 1902, i, 235-246. Criticisms on Architecture and Painting During a Tour in Italy. In Gray's Works, ed. Mitford, Pickering, 1836, iv, 225-305. Not reprinted. Deals only with Rome. Journal in the Lakes, 1769. In Works, ed. Gosse, i, 247-281. Letters, ed. Tovey, i, ii, London, 1900-4. Nos. xiv-xlviii, written between April 1, 1739, and April 21, 1741 (France and Italy). Nos. cvi, July 24, 1753; cxi, Oct, 18, 1753 (the north of England). No. clxxiii, Sept. 6, 1758 (to Palgrave 394 CLARK S. NORTHUP was the gallery. Writing to Montagu he said the French were the happiest nation in the world. "There is nothing to be met with in the country but mirth and poverty." There was, he thought, more mirth in the French conversa- tion, and more wit in the English. Belles- lettres he found but short-lived, because of the shadow of ecclesiasticism. Returning from Blois to Paris, he had conversations on liter- ature with Malbranche 4 and Boileau, which he vividly described to Bishop Hough. On December 12, 1700, 5 Addison left Mar- in the north of England). No. ccxlv, Dec. 4, 1762 (Eng- land). Letters, in his Works, ed. Gosse, vol. iii. Nos. lxvii-lxix, Oct. 13— Nov. 19, 1764 (southern England). No. lxxiv, March, 1765 (France and Italy). Nos. Ixxxi, lxxxii, Aug., Sept., 1765, lxxxv, 1765 (northern England and Scotland). Nos. xc, xci, Aug. 26, 1766 (Kent). No. cxiii, Sept. 11, 1767 (the north of England). Nos. clxxiii, clxxiv, Aug. 24, 1770 (the west of England). See also Ampere, op. cit., pp. 165-6; Gosse, Gray, English Men of Letters Series, 1882; von Klenze, op. cit., pp. 18, n. 2, 25, n. 1 ; Myra Reynolds, The Treatment of Nature in English Poetry between Pope and Wordsworth, 2d ed., Chi- cago, 1909. Miss Reynolds for practical reasons confines her study to travels in England. The results of this paper will show, I think, that she has erred, at least slightly, in doing so. 4 Malbranche spoke of Hobbes to Addison as a pauvre esprit. Macaulay's translation of this, "a poor silly crea- ture," seems hardly just. 6 By an explainable blunder Addison (Remarks on Italy, Works, ed. Bohn, i. 358) has it 1699; he was thinking of the year he left England. His letters, however, show that he was in France from the summer of 1699 until December, 1700. ADDISON AND GRAY 395 seilles for Genoa in a tartane. At Cassis he saw from a distance the mountains where Mary Magdalene was said to have passed her last years in penance, and thought it was possibly the place where, according to Claudian, Ulysses summoned the ghosts. At San Remo he noted the fortunate mildness of the climate; "without this natural benefit of their climates, the ex- treme misery and poverty that are in most of the Italian governments would be insupport- able." In describing Genoa he first speaks of the cunning, industry, and hardihood of the people, traits which existed when the classic poets described the Ligurians. The city seemed to him the noblest show in the world. He dis- liked, however, the custom of painting the pil- lars of houses and palaces. Of the government the most remarkable feature was the Bank of St. George, organized to discharge loans made by private persons to the government. He thought the power wielded by this bank a check on the aristocracy. He comments on the ex- posed site of the city and on the smallness of the fleet (six galleys), which the French king obliged the Genoese not to exceed. At Pavia he was interested in the genuineness of the reputed tomb of St. Augustine, discovered Neither Tickell nor Hurd perceived the mistake. Macaulay gives the correct date. Geo. W. Greene's ed. (Putnam, 1853, ii, 139) has it 1670, though he obviously has another date in mind; cf. his note. 396 CLARK S. NORTHUP three years before; he was somewhat skeptical. Of the Cathedral at Milan (then unfinished) the interior greatly disappointed him. Externally he was concerned not so much with the archi- tecture^ — it was merely a "vast Gothic pile of building ... all of marble, except the roof" — as with the freshness of the marble washed with rains. The chapel in which San Carlo Borro- meo lies, and which presented to Dickens so striking and ghastly a contrast, 6 Addison men- tions (it made no special impression on him) only to dwell on the philanthropic life of the saint, and on the canonization of modern saints. He mentions very few pictures and criticizes none beyond noting that in the Celestine fresco on the marriage at Cana one figure has six fin- gers. He comments at some length on the con- trast between the airy, humorous French and the sedate, awkward Italians, a contrast due, he thinks, to the influence of free conversation with women. Thence he proceeded via Brescia and Ve- rona to Padua. At Verona he was reminded not of Romeo and Juliet or the Two Gentlemen, but of Claudian's description of a wild beast brought into the amphitheatre, and of the arch of Flaminius, with its "old Doric pillars with- out any pedestal or base, as Vitruvius has de- scribed them." Writing of Padua, Addison 6 Pictures from Italy, Oxford India Paper Edition, p. 97. ADDISON AND GRAY 397 made an exception to his rule of having little to do with the saints and their fables, and re- printed, with a translation, the story of St. Anthony preaching to the fishes, which is said to have happened at Rimini. At Venice he was chiefly interested in the site from the point of view of defences and the possible receding of the sea; in the commerce; in the furniture of the palaces ; in the future of the republic; and in the operas and comedies, all of which he thought were poor. No thought of Antonio the merchant or of Shylock seems to have entered his mind; but he was interested in a poor opera on Cato, which apparently moved him to rewrite his own tragedy on the subject. 7 At Ferrara the cathedral made no impres- sion on him; and the chief feature of Ariosto's 7 The question of when Addison composed the first four acts of Cato, as bearing on how he spent his time while in Italy, has some interest here. The remarks of Tonson, Pope, and Young are to be found in Spence's Anecdotes (1820), p. 46. The various conflicting statements are quoted by Ogle (Life, pp. xix-xxi, lvi-lx) and by Greene (Addison, Works, New York, 1853, i, 367-371); cf. Miss Aikin, Life, ii, 76-80, Addison's Works, ed. Bohn, vi, 715. My interpre- tation of the evidence substantially agrees with Ogle's (though I differ on some points) : that Addison wrote a tragedy (probably in five acts) on Cato while at Oxford and submitted it to Dryden; that he subsequently, and presum- ably while on his travels (very likely prompted to it by see- ing the poor play in Venice), substantially rewrote the first four acts, but did nothing then with the fifth, and actually rewrote it several years later. There seems to be no good 398 CLARK S. NORTHUP monument was the epitaph, which he copied. The site of Ravenna, then four miles from the coast, is discussed. The Rubicon recalled Lucan's description. Rimini did not suggest Francesca; he noted only the bridge of Augus- tus and Tiberius, the Arco d'Augusto, and the Suggestum. To San Marino is awarded an elaborate description in which the history and government are considered. The "good-natured smile" that Macaulay detected in this account is not much in evidence. It is amusing to find Addison, who now looked forward to a diplo- matic career, noting that the pay of a San Marino ambassador was Is. a day. At Loreto the riches and defenceless position of the Holy House struck him, and he reflected that "if these riches were all turned into cur- rent coin, and employed in commerce, they reason for rejecting Dr. Young's very positive testimony, that while at Oxford, Addison sent a play in five acts to Dryden. That this play was on the subject of Cato seems clear from the testimony of Tickell. Tonson's testimony, which forms the basis of the report that the play was first written abroad, really proves nothing of the kind. As re- ported by Spence, what Tonson said was: "Addison wrote the four first acts of his Cato abroad; at least, they were written, when I met him, accidentally on his return, at Rotterdam." Addison doubtless told Tonson that he had worked on these four acts while in Italy, but evidently said nothing about what he had previously written on the same subject. Finally, I can find no evidence whatever for the latter part of Courthope's statement (Addison, p. Ill), repeated from Macaulay: "The design ... he had formed while ADDISON AND GRAY 399 would make Italy the most flourishing country in Europe." The Falls of Terni drew him out of his way and seemed more astonishing than the water-works of Versailles; surely this was the Gulf through which Virgil's Alecto shot herself into hell. In crossing the Apennines he cared less for "the rude prospect of rocks rising one above another" than for the warm valleys with violets and almond-trees in blossom. At Rome Addison remained only long enough to look at St. Peter's and the Pantheon and to reflect that the cross figure is better for churches than the rotunda, since it gives a greater variety of noble prospects. The de- serted appearance of the Campagna was im- pressive; the blighting genius of the Catholic faith, he thought, was responsible for the pau- city of numbers and the lack of cultivation of the soil. At Naples he noted the processions of Holy he was at Oxford, though he certainly borrowed many inci- dents in the play from a tragedy on the same subject which he saw performed at Venice." In the opera, among the books in Cato's library are Plutarch and Tasso (p. 392). Likewise Addison represents Cato before he commits suicide as reading the Phoedo. In this, however, he follows the historical account of Cato (Plutarch, Cato Minor). In the opera "Csesar and Scipio are rivals for Cato's daughter" (Macaulay says: "Cato, it seems, was in love with a daughter of Scipio. The lady had given her heart to Caesar."). In Addison's play Juba and Sempronius are rivals for Cato's daughter Marcia. I have discovered no further likeness. 400 CLARK S. NORTHUP Week ; the lack of defences ; the prospects from the convent houses ; the bay, with its sheltering circuit of woods and mountains; the conditions which helped Spain to keep the Neapolitans in subjection; the neighboring antiquities and natural curiosities (including Virgil's tomb, the Grotta Nuova di Posillipo, the catacombs, the Grotta del Cane, Vesuvius, and the manner of furnishing the city with ice) . Of Vesuvius he gives a remarkably clear description. " There is nothing about Naples," he says, "nor in- deed in any part of Italy, which deserves our admiration so much as this mountain." Capri, as having been the residence of Augus- tus and Tiberius, claimed a visit, and enter- tained him with some medals found there, and "with many rude prospects of rocks and preci- pices, that rise in several places half a mile high in perpendicular." The journey to Rome by sea in a felucca was full of literary associations; for here he was fol- lowing in the tracks of Virgil and Homer, and noted every headland and every scene described by them. He spent the early part of August, 1701, in Rome. In the Eternal City he had great self-control. "There are in Rome," he calmly remarks, "two sets of antiquities, the Christian and the heathen. The former, though of a fresher date, are so embroiled with fable and legend, that one receives but little satis- faction from searching into them. The other ADDISON AND GRAY 401 gives a great deal of pleasure to such as have met with them before in ancient authors; for a man who is in Rome can scarce see an object that does not call to mind a piece of a Latin poet or historian." Thus he justified his favorite diversion, of tracing the remains of antiquity and connecting them with his store of quotations from the poets. He begins with the statues, 8 on which "the workmanship is often the most exquisite of anything in its kind"; yet in his discussion he is almost wholly occupied with what the Roman poets have said about statuary; he thinks they copied the Greek statuaries. Then come re- marks on coins, which throw light on " several particulars in history and antiquities"; on the "amazing vanity of ancient pillars of so many kinds of marble" ; on the obelisks and triumphal arches; and in conclusion a comment on the beautiful and glorious scenes which so much use of marble has produced in the Roman churches. Addison then groups together some comments gleaned on visits to small towns near Rome and full of antiquities and classical associations. He was not blind, however, to the aspects of the landscape, and noted the contrast between 8 Writing probably to Wortley Montagu, August 7, 1701, he remarked: "I am forced, for want of better company, to converse mostly with pictures, statues, and medals. For you must know I deal very much in ancient coins, and can count out a sum in sesterces with as much ease as in pounds sterling." 402 CLARK S. NORTHUP the "green mountains and fruitful valleys" of the Pope's dominions and the "wild naked prospect of rocks and hills, worn on all sides with gutters and channels, and not a tree or shrub to be met with in a vast circuit of several miles" in the Great Duke's domain. In Siena there was nothing "so extraordinary as the cathedral, which a man may view with pleasure after he has seen St. Peter's, though it is quite of another make, and can only be looked upon as one of the masterpieces of Gothic architecture." 9 Yet he "forgot his prejudices" 10 only for a moment. When a man sees the prodigious pains and expense that our forefathers have been at in these barbarous buildings, one cannot but fancy to himself what miracles of architecture they would have left us, had they been only instructed in the right way; for when the devotion of those ages was much warmer than that of the present, and the riches of the people much more at the disposal of the priests, there was so much money consumed on these Gothic cathe- drals, as would have finished a greater variety of noble buildings than have been raised either before or since that time. 11 9 Horace Walpole disagreed: Letters, ed. Mrs. Toynbee, i, 53. 10 To use the words of Macaulay. 11 With this should be compared his remarks on the Cathe- dral of Berne: "The cathedral church stands on one side of these walks, and is, perhaps, the most magnificent of any Protestant church in Europe out of England. It is a very bold work, and a master-piece in Gothic architecture." P. 518. ADDISON AND GRAY 403 This is a typical utterance of the time, which had not yet awakened to a realization of the fact that these were " false beauties" only to a narrow and antiquated standard. In the next paragraph he says of "the many gross and absurd traditions of St. Catherine of Sienna": "I think there is as much pleasure in hearing a man tell his dreams, as in reading accounts of this nature." In speaking of the modern city of Leghorn, after pronouncing the two ports, the bagnio, and Donatelli's statue of the Great Duke to be "very noble sights," he gives some attention to the advantages of the free port to the Great Duke and to his effort to prevent the Pope from deriving a similar revenue from Civita Vecchia. In Pisa, the group of buildings which some have thought the finest group in the world are merely pronounced "very well worth seeing"; and he passes on at once to tell about a late quarrel between the people of Lucca and the Duke of Florence. In Florence he saw his eighth Italian opera. "The Duke's new palace is a very noble pile . . . extremely solid and majestic." In the gallery of the Palazzo Vecchio he found the sculptures 12 most interesting, especially the 12 Macaulay says Addison preferred the sculptures in the Museum "even to those of the Vatican." What Addison wrote was, "Florence, for modern sculptures, I think excels even Rome." 404 CLARK S. NORTHUP busts of the emperors. The Venus de' Medici, then in the Palazzo Vecchio (now in the Uffizi, room 25) was impressive. "The softness of the flesh, the delicacy of the shape, air, and posture, and the correctness of design in this statue, are inexpressible." Bologna was "esteemed the third in Italy for pictures as having been the school of the Lombard painters"; yet he mentions only one of these, as the second of three rarities that impress him: a medal of the younger Brutus, Raphael's St. Cecilia (painted for the Benti- voglio Chapel at S. Giovanni Monte, now in the Accademia delle Belle Arti, No. 152), 13 and a new staircase especially easy of ascent and inter- esting for the disposition of lights. At Parma the Teatro Farnese and the picture gallery deserved "to be seen as well as anything of that nature in Italy"; but he mentions no individual pictures. Modena and Parma illus- trated the advantages and hardships of small principalities. On the road from Turin to Geneva, amid the Alpine snows, he composed his Letter from Italy, in which, in smooth and pleasing verse, he epit- omizes his impressions of a year's stay in Italy. And what does he remember? That every mountain and stream were there in classic times; that the Tiber, 13 This also thrilled Goethe. See his Ital. Reise, Oct. 18, 1786. ADDISON AND GRAY % 405 sung so often in poetic lays, With scorn the Danube and the Nile surveys; that the proud triumphal arches of the old Romans upbraid "a base, degenerate progeny"; that his Muse would fain describe the beauties of Raphael; that the blessings of blooming moun- tains and sunny shores are naught compared with Liberty, whom Britannia adores; and that while others may build domes and paint di- vinely and teach the rocks to live in statues, 'Tie Britain's care to watch o'er Europe's fate, And hold in balance each contending state. Here speaks the young diplomatist and states- man. This point of view must be borne in mind throughout the reading of Addison's vol- ume; it explains and accounts for much that he says — and does not say. A young man of twen- ty-nine, trained in the Latin classics and taught that these were the only literature worth while, whose attention had been lately turned to the problems of statecraft and diplomacy by the career which Montagu, attracted by his Latin metres on the Treaty of Ryswick, had planned for him, visits tht land where his favorite au- thors lived and wrote. What more natural than that he should indulge his antiquarian and political interests? Naturally, his tour is to some extent the sentimental journey of an antiquarian with a bundle of classic quotations which he desires to verify and utilize in his 406 CLARK S. NORTHUP Travels. The number and extent of these quotations, however, has been exaggerated. 14 Into a work of 183 pages (Bohn ed.) he works 141 quotations, aggregating 651 lines, from the following authors: Silius Italicus, 27; Virgil, 24; Claudian, 14; Lucan, 14; Juvenal, 13; Martial, 12; Horace, 10; Ovid, 6; Statius, 4 ; Ausonius, 3 ; Sannazaro, 3 ; 15 Homer, Greek, 1, English 1; Propertius, 2; Greek epigrammatists, 2; Tibullus, 1; Phaedrus, 1; Manilius, 1; Seneca, 1; Unknown, 1. In length these quotations range from a part of a line to 35 lines; the average, if we count parts of lines as wholes, is 4.6 lines. The average number of quotations per page is considerably less than one, and they are so skilfully handled in general that we are only now and then con- scious that Addison is speaking of some scene or antiquity for the sake of leading up to a passage he has ready to quote. But that he traveled in the poets rather than in the country 14 Thus Walpole, writing to West from Florence in 1740 (Letters, ed. Mrs. Toynbee, i, 88), says: "Mr. Addison travel- led through the poets, and not through Italy." Fielding (Works, 1821, x, 188) speaks of Addison as "a commentator on the classics rather than as a writer of travels." Sterne (Tristram Shandy, 1765, vii, 11) says that Addison wrote "galloping, with his satchel of school books . . . galling his beast's crupper at every stroke." (Quoted in Johnson's Lives, ed. Hill, ii, 87, n. 1.) As Addison spent twelve months on Italian soil, he can scarcely be said to have galloped through it. 15 His epigram on Venice is also referred to (p. 396). ADDISON AND GRAY 407 itself, in any sense, is distinctly untrue. It is also to be borne in mind that it was still fashion- able to make plentiful use of classical quota- tions in all polite literature, and nowhere more so than in books of travel. Sandys' Travels (London, 1610, 7th ed. 1673) is full of them. Addison was writing what he expected would be read, and obviously sought to please the taste of his readers. Within certain limits the list of quotations gives some idea of the character and extent of Addison's reading. No prose writers are in- cluded, 16 and some of the greater poets (Lucre- tius, Catullus) and lesser writers like Petronius are likewise absent. Greek writers, not having written much on Italy, are almost entirely left out. But the severest criticism, well expressed by Macaulay, is that Addison almost entirely ignores the modern poets (the single exception among authors quoted being Sannazaro). Yet it can be shown that Addison is not more chargeable with this indifference than many others of his time, especially in academic circles. The modern authors were, if taken up at all, to be read, not studied; and if one did not care to become familiar with these writers, ignorance of them carried with it no stigma. Addison is an uncompromising Protestant. He sees nothing good in the Roman Church. 17 16 He refers, however, to Pliny and Caesar. 17 See pp. 368f., 419ff., 424, 524f. 408 CLARK S. NORTHUP Its miracles are open to suspicion; 18 its treatment of the people is responsible for much of the hard- ship and poverty that are too frequently found. The ignorance of the clergy is profound. 19 It will be seen that when the occasion demands Addison does not hesitate to speak frankly. It must be remembered, of course, that Addison went through no such crises as that which con- fronted Dryden in 1688; how he would have acted under similar circumstances we do not know. In general it may be said that his criti- cism is calm and dignified and gives the im- pression of expressing real convictions. 20 One cannot fail to notice how deeply Addison is interested in politics. He recurs to political situations and lessons again and again. 21 I can- not help thinking that the latter part of the book, dealing with Germany and Switzerland, is more interesting than the rest, perhaps for the reason that Addison, no longer obliged to be on the lookout for antiquities and scenes described by the poets, here gives more attention to politi- cal and social matters. He is always a Whig, devoted to the principles of the Revolution ; yet he is no narrow partisan, but is bent on extract- ing political wisdom from all possible sources. 18 See pp. 365, 379, 400, 409, 453. 10 See pp. 400, 525. ''" On the political aspect of his Protestantism, cf. The Freeholder, No. 54, June 25, 1716. 21 See pp. 390f., 428, 490, 504, 516, 525ft\, and the Letter from Italy. ADDISON AND GRAY 409 For example, in the present struggle with prob- lems of excessive private wealth it is interesting to notice Addison commenting on the Swiss cus- tom of dividing estates equally among all the children, 22 and the necessity of this custom in a small republic in order to prevent any citizen from becoming formidable to his fellows. He illustrates, too, a growing confidence in the wis- dom of the people: One may generally observe, that the body of a people has juster views for the public good, and pursues them with greater uprightness, than the no- bility and gentry, who have so many private expec- tations and particular interests, which hang like a false bias upon their judgments, and may possibly dispose them to sacrifice the good of their country to the advancement of their own fortunes; whereas, the gross of the people can have no other prospect in changes and revolutions, than of public blessings that are to diffuse themselves through the whole state in general. 23 He has comparatively little to say of the char- acter of the people. 24 The contrast between French and Italians (pp. 373-5) has already been noted; besides he makes several interest- ing comments on customs, dress, superstitions, etc. Otherwise what he says about the people themselves is not especially significant. It is probable that such observations as he may have been moved to make he found in previous 22 P. 529. 23 P. 375. 24 See pp. 361, 373ff., 391, 406, 455, 522f., 526ff. 410 CLARK S. NORTHUP "voyage-writers," especially Bishop Burnet, Lassals, Ray, and Misson, whom he mentions in his preface. Addison's descriptions of scenery deserve at- tention. We do not think of him as a lover of Nature; a "feeling" for natural scenery was certainly not characteristic of the age. Yet he is constantly attentive to agreeable land- scapes, 25 and he is frequently delighted with the vistas opened to him. "There is nothing in the natural face of Italy," he remarks, "that is more delightful to a traveler, than the several lakes which are dispersed up and down the many breaks and hollows of the Alps and Apennines." He never describes landscape, however, at any length. He felt, apparently, that his descrip- tive powers were limited ; probably, too, he was more deeply concerned with other matters. Following the sentence above quoted, for exam- ple, he goes on to explain the geological history of these lakes, and then remarks that "the ancient Romans took a great deal of pains to hew out a passage for these lakes to discharge themselves into some neighbouring river, for the bettering of the air, or the recovering of the soil that lay underneath them." 26 A similar interest is shown by the following sentence: "The greatest pleasure I took in my journey 26 See for example, pp. 378, 385ff., 413f., 427, 438, 444ff., 483ff., 488, 507, 509, 517, 537. " Pp. 507f. ADDISON AND GRAY 411 from Rome to Naples was in seeing the fields, towns, and rivers, that have been described by so many classic authors, and have been the scenes of so many great actions; for this whole road is extremely barren of curiosities." 27 The Alps do not move him to admiration; atRipaille, however, "y°u have a near prospect of the Alps, which are broken into so many steps and precipices, that they fill the mind with an agree- able kind of horror, and form one of the most irregular, misshapen scenes in the world." 28 He is thankful for an easy journey over Mont Cenis. "On the top of this high mountain," he observes, 29 "is a large plain, and in the midst of the plain a beautiful lake, which would be very extraordinary were there not several mountains in the neighborhood rising over it." The Rhone "has been guided by the particular hand of Providence"; 30 not, however, because of any striking views that its peculiar route affords, but because "had such a river as this been left to itself to have found its way out from among the Alps, whatever winding it had made it must have formed several little seas, and have laid many countries under water, before it had come to the end of its course." The journey across the Apennines was merely fatiguing; 31 27 P. 421. 28 Pp. 510f . 29 P. 507. 80 P. 515. 81 P. 414. 412 CLARK S. NORTHUP the "rude prospect of rocks rising one above an- other," etc., needed the relief of "warm valleys covered with violets and almond-trees in blos- som. ' ' From a distance, however, the mountains are good to look upon. One of the most interest- ing descriptions in the book is that in which he describes the hour's rowing from Kufstein to the borders of Bavaria: It was the pleasantest voyage in the world to follow the windings of this river Inn through such a variety of pleasing scenes as the course of it natur- ally led us. We had sometimes on each side us a vast extent of naked rocks and mountains, broken into a thousand irregular steeps and precipices; in other places we saw a long forest of fir-trees so thick set together, that it was impossible to discover any of the soil they grew upon, and rising up so regu- larly one above another, as to give us the view of a whole wood at once. The time of the year, that had given the leaves of the trees so many different colours, completed the beauty of the prospect. 32 In general, however, the Alps and the Apen- nines alike were regions to be endured and gone through as rapidly as possible ; nay, to be avoided when possible, as when Addison went via Mar- seilles to Genoa by sea. There was nothing sublime in the Alpine views of landscape or clouds ; all was awful, horrible, as it had seemed to Silius Italicus in the first century A.D. 33 Yet it has not, I think, been sufficiently empha- 12 P. 537. 83 P. 508. \ ADDISON AND GRAY 413 sized that even thus early in the eighteenth century men were beginning to fancy Nature that was less guided and pruned by the hand of man. 34 The Alps were beginning to have "an agreeable kind of horror." Of course Nature was capable of being improved by the hand of man; we still believe this though to a less extent. III. When Addison started on his travels he was twenty-seven years old. When Gray entered France with Walpole, on March 29, 1739, he was nearly five years younger. In Gray's letters we have a much fuller account of his impressions of France than Addison has left us of his. The route to Paris lay through Boulogne, Montreuil, Abbeville, Amiens (where, at the abbey of St. Denis, he admired a huge onyx vase, five inches by three and very thick, representing the mysteries of Bacchus), and Clermont. Paris delighted him. "The view down [the Seine] on either hand from the Pont Neuf is the charming'st sight imaginable." 35 Concerning Versailles he was less enthusiastic than was Addison. The front was "a huge 34 Cf. The Spectator, No. 414, June 25, 1712, quoted also by Miss Reynolds, pp. 252f . ; also No. 477, Sept. 6, 1712. Cf . also Blomfield and Thomas, The Formal Garden in England, p. 80, also quoted by Miss Reynolds. 35 Letters, ed. Tovey, i, 23. 414 CLARK S. NORTHUP heap of littleness"; 86 one " could not see a more disagreeable tout-ensemble." At Rheims, where they stayed three months, the chief thing was the cathedral, "a vast Gothic building of a surprising beauty and lightness, all covered over with a profusion of little statues, and other ornaments." 37 Gray liked Dijon better than Rheims. The environs of Lyons were "beautiful beyond expression." His description of the ascent to the Grande Chartreuse is so signifi- cant that, though it is not unknown, I must quote it again here: It is six miles to the top; the road runs winding up it, commonly not six feet broad; on one hand is the rock, with woods of pine-trees [rather, says Mitford, beeches and firs] hanging over head; on the other, a monstrous precipice, almost perpendicular, at the bottom of which rolls a torrent, that sometimes tumbling among the fragments of stone that have fallen from on high, and sometimes precipitating itself down vast descents with a noise like thunder, which is still made greater by the echo from the mountains on each side, concurs to form one of the most solemn, the most romantic, and the most as- tonishing scenes I ever beheld : Add to this the strange views made by the craggs and cliffs on the other hand; the cascades that in many places throw themselves from the very summit down into the vale, and the river below; and many other particulars impossible 36 Id., p. 26. 37 Id., p. 30. In his Journal (Works, ed. Gosse, i, 237) he speaks of its "beautiful Gothic front with two towers of surprising lightness." ADDISON AND GRAY 415 to describe; you will conclude we had no occasion to repent our pains. 38 Throughout his travels in France, as his notes show, Gray referred constantly to Csesar's Commentaries, and had in mind the history of the country. Early in November the party crossed the Alps over Mont Cenis. "The im- mensity of the precipices," he writes to his mother, "the roaring of the river and torrents that run into it, the huge craggs covered with ice and snow, and the clouds below you and about you, are objects it is impossible to con- ceive without seeing them." 39 On the journey he read Silius Italicus and reread Livy. At Turin he was bored; the pup- pet-show of the Damned Soul 40 did not offer much diversion. He writes West a noble description of the harbor of Genoa: Only figure to yourself a vast semicircular basin, full of fine blue sea, and vessels of all sorts and sizes, a8 Letters, ed. Tovey, i, 38f . ; see also pp. 44ff., and Gray's Works, ed. Gosse, i, 244; also H. Walpole, Letters, ed. Mrs. Toynbee, i, 38. 39 Letters, ed. Tovey, i, 42f. Walpole, it is interesting to note, got a very different impression of the journey. "Such uncouth rocks and such uncomely inhabitants, my dear West, I hope I shall never see them again." Quoted by Tovey, p. 55. 40 Described at length by Joseph Spence in a letter to his mother dated Dec. 2, 1739, exactly a fortnight after Gray's party had left Turin. See Spence's Anecdotes, Observations and Characters, of Books and Men, London, 1820, pp. 397-400. 416 CLARK S. NORTHUP some sailing out, some coming in, and others at anchor; and all around it palaces, and churches peeping over one another's heads, gardens, and mar- ble terraces full of orange and cypress trees, fountains, and trellis-works covered with vines, which altogether compose the grandest of theatres. 41 He fell in love with the Mediterranean. By way of Parma and Modena (where he viewed the Duke's paintings), he proceeded in December to Bologna, where he spent twelve days. He was more deeply struck than Addison by the beauty of the Lombard landscape. In crossing the Apennines Gray again shows how differently he and Addison viewed the mountains. "This vast chain of hills [the Apennines], " he says, "has its beauties"; the mountains "are not so horrid as the Alps, though pretty near as high." 42 In Florence, Gray's party spent about three months. Of his notes, only those relating to the Pitti Palace have been printed. He describes the architecture of the palace. Hercules Lifting Antceus, which Addison mentions, 43 seemed to Gray "of indifferent workmanship." The pictures he liked best were Salvator Rosa's marines 44 ("admirable"); Parmigiano's Ma- 41 Letters, ed. Tovey, i, 46. 42 Letters, ed. Tovey, i, 49. 43 P. 495. 44 Sala di Venere, Nos. 4 and 15. One is reproduced in The New Internal. Encyclopaedia, xv, opp. 1G4. ADDISON AND GRAY 417 donna del Collo Lungo 45 (" the Virgin is not hand- some, but a most majestick Air, the head & dressing of the hair in exquisite Taste"); Ra- phael's Madonna del Peseta 46 and Leo X 47 ("as fine as a Portrait can possibly be, & excellently preserved!"); Fra Bartolommeo's St. Mark 4 * ("a most noble Style, Drapery in marvellous folds, vastly great!"); Carlo Maratti's St. Andrea Corsini Praying (" finely colour'd with great Warmth and Harmony"); Van Dyck's Cardinal Bentivoglio 49 ("easy and natural, yet perfectly great; the Colouring fine beyond all expression"); Titian's Cardinal Ippolito de Medici, 50 which Kugler pronounces "amongst the finest of his portraits" ("very genteel"); Titian's Concert 51 ("the head of the principal [figure] has a most exquisite life & spirit in the eyes, & is admirably painted"). Andrea del 45 Sala delP Iliade, over the door. 46 This must have been a copy, as the original is in the Prado, at Madrid, having been sent there in 1638. 47 Sala di Apollo, No. 40. Reproduced in H. Strachey, Raphael, London, 1900, p. 20; Julia Cartwright, Raphael in Rome, London, 1895, p. 71. Cf. G. Allen, Florence, ii, 131f. " Sala di Giove, No. 125. Cf. G. Allen, Florence, ii,122f. 49 Sala di Marte, No. 82. Reproduced in L. Cust, Anthony Van DycJc, London, 1900, p. 36. 60 Sala dell' Iliade, No. 201. Reproduced in Claude Phillips, The Later Work of Titian, London, 1898, p. 19. 61 Sala dell' Iliade, No. 185; formerly attributed to Gior- gione. Reproduced in Claude Phillips, The Earlier Work of Titian, London, 1897, p. 63. Cf . G. Allen, Florence, ii, 115. 418 CLARK S. NORTHUP Sarto's La Disputa 52 he greatly disliked (" finely painted undoubtedly, & perhaps the principal work of this Master. From whence he got his great Reputation I know not, Grace & Beauty 'tis certain he was an utter Stranger to; Har- mony in the Tout-Ensemble he was ignorant of; his Subjects are always ill-chosen, & if he colour'd a particular figure well, this is by no means sufficient to put him on a rank with the greatest Masters. Tho' even in this he often fails, & there is a smeariness in his shades that makes all his figures appear dirty. ") . The same painter's Assumption of the Virgin™ he thought had "no harmony." In this depreciation of Del Sarto, Gray is of course radically at variance with modern critics. On the journey to Rome Gray and Walpole spent a day at Siena, the cathedral of which he described to his mother as "a huge pile of mar- ble, black and white laid alternately, and laboured with a Gothic niceness and delicacy in the old-fashioned way." At Viterbo he noted that the houses had glass windows, "which is not very usual here.' 62 Sala di Saturno, No. 172. Reproduced in H. Wolfflin, The Art of the Italian Renaissance, tr. Armstrong, London, 1903, p. 172, and in Miss H. Guinness, Andrea del Sarto, London, 1899, p. 23. Miss Guinness speaks of it as "a noble composition, full of power and boldness, and of harmonious vaporous atmosphere." Cf. G. Allen, Florence, ii, 117. " Sala dell' Iliade, No. 225. Cf. G. Allen, Florence, ii, 111. ADDISON AND GRAY 419 The first entrance of Rome [he continues 54 ] is prodigiously striking. It is by a noble gate, 55 de- signed by Michael Angelo, and adorned with statues; this brings you into a large square, in the midst of which is a vast obelisk of granite, and in front you have at one view two churches of a handsome archi- tecture, and so much alike that they are called the twins; with three streets, the middlemost of which is one of the longest in Rome. As high as my expec- tation was raised, I confess, the magnificence of this city infinitely surpasses it. You cannot pass along a street but you have views of some palace, or church, or square, or fountain, the most picturesque and noble one can imagine. Gray spent two months and a half in Rome and made full notes on the sculptures and paintings he saw. I shall quote a few of his more significant criticisms. Barocci. The Presentation of the Virgin: "Some incorrectness in the drawing, but a harmony and sweetness in the tout-ensemble that makes ample amends. The finest I have seen of him." 56 \ Annibale Carracci. The Temptation of St. Anthony has an " exquisite" landscape; "the whole admirably painted, and finished to the height." 57 The figure of St. Gregory is "exqui- sitely fine' ' ; ' ' every minute circumstance finished 64 Letters, ed. Tovey, i, 60. " The Porto del Popolo. 66 Works, ed. Mitford, iv, 271. Then in the Chiesa Nuova. 87 Id., p. 233. The painting, then in the Palazzo Bor- ghese, is now in the National Gallery, London. 420 CLARK S. NORTHUP as high as possible." 68 The Pietd that he sees is "finely painted, but not very pleasing"; "the Magdalen is a fine figure, but without expression," and the other figures lack dignity. 59 The Noli Me Tangere is "exceeding fine." 60 In Peter Going from Rome Christ's eyes and head convey "as moving an idea as it is possible for painting to express." 61 In The Assumption "the Draperies and colouring good; both the expres- sion and the drawing in the main indifferent enough; but the scene which is properly the subject of the picture is nature finely chosen, and an example of taste in this k^nd." 62 Pietro da Cortona (Berrettini). The Battle of Arbela: "Many noble combinations and acci- dents of men and horses. . . The tout ensemble harmonious enough. A most capital picture. 63 St. Paul Restored to Sight: ' ' The whole very fine, well and strongly coloured." 64 II Triomfo delta Gloria: " An immense composition in the allegorical way, strongly and harmoniously coloured. Admirable groups, fine airs and heads, and well chosen ornaments . . . But I confess myself of the French author's opinion, 68 Id., p. 256. Then in the Church of S. Gregorio Magno. 5a Id., p. 260. Then in the Church of S. Sebastiano. 60 Id., p. 278. Then in the Palazzo Barberini. 61 Id., p. 297. Then in the Palazzo Doria Pamphili. ^ Id., p. 292. In the Palazzo Doria Pamphili, No. 78. 63 Id., p. 240. An early painting, then at the Palazzo Sacchetti. 64 Id., p. 242. In the Church of the Cappuccini. ADDISON AND GRAY 421 who says, ' Je ne pense pas que les personnages allegoriques doivre [sic] etre eux-memes des acteurs principaux des personnages, que nous connoissons pour des phantomes [sic] imagines a plaisir, a qui nous ne scaurions preter des passions pareilles aux notres, ne peuvent pas nous interesser beaucoup a ce qui leur arrive.' " 65 Domenichino (Zampieri). Diana with Her Nymphs he does not like: "the attitudes for the most part without grace, and the whole not agreeable." 66 Of The Assumption in the Church of Santa Maria in Trastevere, he says: " Noth- ing can be more lovely, or graceful ; strongly and well-coloured, and as well-preserved." 67 The Matthew and John in the Church of St. Andrea della Valle are "as fine and sublime as possible, of a vast size, though seen at a vast height ; the colouring bright but harmonious . . . and the drapery great and natural." 68 In The Scourging of St. Andrew he comments on the comic ele- ment: One of the ruffians, in straining the cord that ties his leg, has cracked it, and is fallen backwards; others are laughing at him : the expression, though low, has somewhat in it that heightens the horror of the thing. These are a sort of circumstances that Shakespeare has often made use of; one sees his murderers have 66 Id., p. 273; the French author quoted is Dubos, Re- flexions critiques sur la poesie et la peinture, i, 176. The picture is in the Palazzo Barberini. 66 Id., p. 232. In the Villa Borghese, No. 53. 87 Id., p. 262. 88 Id., p. 266. 422 CLARK S. NORTHUP their jokes in the midst of the most tragic events; and when rightly taken, such strokes are surely ex- pressive of the character, and of the want of reflex- ion, that is the cause of insensibility to others' woes: yet I do not say, these things should be used at ran- dom, nor made (as here) the principal objects in a picture. 69 Guercino (Barbieri). Dido on the Funeral Pile: Dido's "head is truly fine, full of expres- sion, and very beautiful. . . . The figure of Anna is ungraceful, and means nothing but a sort of surprise. Those behind are variously affected by the sight, but both their persons and manners of showing it, are low and not proper for such a scene." 70 Joseph Revealing Dreams has a "dark, disagreeable manner." 71 In Cleo- patra Prostrate before Augustus "she is but a tame figure, with very little expression: but the emperor a very noble one ... as grace- ful as possible." 72 The Burial of St. Petronilla: "The Christ's action is neither graceful, nor natural; the colouring in the extravagance of his manner, the shades mere soot." 73 Of St. John Drinking at a Fountain, he says: "One cannot see a more charming figure of him; it is alive, and admirably painted." 74 69 Id., p. 267. Also in the Church of S. Andrea della Valle. 70 Id., p. 229. Then in the Spada Gallery. 71 Id., p. 232. Then in the Palazzo Borghese. 72 Id., p. 239. Then in the Palazzo Sacchetti. n Id., p. 252. His masterpiece; now in the Gallery of the Capitol. 74 Id., p. 295. In the Palazzo Doria Pamphili, Gallery I, No. 70. ADDISON AND GRAY 423 Lanfranco. The Judgment of Solomon: ' * Not one good figure, or attitude in the whole, besides the impropriety of making Solomon an old man.' 75 Of The Angel and St. Peter in Prison he remarks : I never saw anything of this master in oil that pleased me; his colouring is disagreeable, and the shades very black: indeed in general, his figures want grace and expression; but in his great fresco composi- tions, there is a certain greatness, a copious fancy, great harmony throughout and his draperies are the noblest one can see anywhere. Such excellences (which are the first one considers in cupolas, and such vast works) are sufficient to compensate the afore- mentioned defects, here that is not the case ; and these faults are the first things that strike one. 78 Nicolas Poussin. The Plague at Ashdod: "Many fine expressions but an ill-chosen sub- ject." 77 The same is true of The Martyrdom of St. Erasmus. 78 Of the wife in Extreme Unction he says: "Nothing can be more noble than the sweet and graceful attitude of this figure"; 78 Id., p. 232. Then in the Palazzo Borghese. 76 Id., p. 293. The picture was in the Palazzo DoriaPam- phili. The great frescoes referred to are probably those in S. Andrea della Valle. 77 Id., p. 245. Then in the Palazzo Colonna. This picture can now be seen in the Louvre and in the National Gallery, London (No. 165). Which is the original I cannot determine. 78 Id., p. 251. Then in the Quirinal; now in the Vatican, Room iv. Reproduced in Elizabeth H. Denis, Nicolas Poussin, London, 1899, opp. p. 51. 424 CLARK S. NORTHUP the whole is " well-coloured, solemn, and har- monious." 79 Cymon and Iphigenia: "not good." 80 Raphael. Raphael's Mistress "is no very elegant beauty, yet by no means so disagreeable as Richardson would make her . . . much finished and finely coloured." 81 The Ritratto of Paul III (then attributed to Raphael) was extremely fine. 82 The Entombment, which was purchased by Paul V, he does not mention. Of Guido Reni's pictures he mentions a con- siderable number, generally with enthusiasm. Fortune, Flying is "a very fine genteel figure." 83 St. Michael: "Indignation, it is true, does not appear in his countenance, for he is triumphing over a vanquished and confounded enemy, but rather a noble scorn, and somewhat as Milton says, — Severe in youthful beauty; but so angelical a beauty, such a head, as this master 79 Id., pp. 291f. Then in the Palazzo Doria Pamphili. The original picture is now in the possession of the Duke of Rutland, at Belvoir Castle. It is reproduced in Eliza- beth H. Denis, op. cit., opp. p. 97; cf. pp. 104f. 80 Id., p. 245. In the Palazzo Colonna, Gallery n, No. 31. 81 Id., p. 278. This picture of the Fornarina, still in the Barberini Palace, Room in, No. 85, is now known to be not by Raphael, but by Giulio Romano. Gray makes no men- tion of La Donna Velata in the Pitti Palace in Florence. Cf. Julia Cartwright in Bryan's Diet, of Painters, new ed., iv, 195. 82 Id., p. 283. Then in the Palazzo Corsini. 83 Id., p. 239. Then in the Palazzo Sacchetti; now, ap- parently, in the S. Luca Gallery, Saloon in, No. 133. ADDISON AND GRAY 425 only could imagine. The Sveltezza, and light- ness of the whole figure, added to the marvellous sweep its attitude gives it, make a most divine picture, and the colouring is all gay and har- monious." 84 Herodias Receiving the Baptist's Head: "The colouring even more languid than ordinary, but pleasing and very fresh; beauty and grace in perfection." 85 The Annunciation: "Such heavenly beauty in both figures as no words can express; the drawing of the virgin under her blue drapery incorrect." 86 St. Andrea Corsini: "The profile mos'; exquisite; the colouring all light, and harmony very capi- tal." 87 The Magdalen: "Such eyes and such a face, such beauty and sorrow sure as never were seen in any mortal creature; the hands and feet equal to the head. . . Drapery in vast magnificent folds, ... a colouring solemnly sweet, though all is light and exquisitely har- monious; most divine!" 88 Salvatore Rosa. The Death of Regulus: "An ill-chosen subject, as the principal figure was not in a condition of appearing to advantage; . . . the various attitudes and expressions admirably imagined, and full of fire, with which 84 Id., p. 242. In the Church of the Cappuccini. 85 Id., p. 245. Then in the Palazzo Colonna; now, appar- ently, at Burghley House in England. 86 Id., p. 252. Still in the Quirinal. 87 Id., p. 278. In the Barberini Palace, Room n, No. 65. s * Id., p. 280. Then in the Palazzo Barberini. 426 CLARK S. NORTHUP he abounded; the drawing most masterly and bold; a very capital picture." 89 Rubens. He makes no mention of the Madonna and Saints with which Rubens decor- ated the Chiesa Nuova in 1608. The Draught of Fishes (Palazzo del Card. Giudice): "Many fine attitudes, great spirit." 90 Titian. Madonna Dolorosa: "The expression touching, but without grace." 91 The School- master: "Truly good, and perfect nature." 92 Bartolus and Baldus: "Perfect nature and life, exquisitely painted." 93 A Bacchanal "is in high esteem, though there are many faults and disproportions." 94 He makes no mention of Earthly and Heavenly Love, which had been in the Borghese collection at least since 1648. 95 Van Dyck. A Lady in Black: "No grace or beauty for a portrait. A painter must take nature as he finds it, and must imitate also the Gothic dress of the times, but the face, 89 Id., p. 247. Then in the Palazzo Colonna. 90 Id., p. 288. 91 Id., p. 233. Then in the Palazzo Borghese; now, appar- ently in the Prado Gallery in Madrid. 92 Id., p. 234. Then in the Palazzo Borghese. 93 Id., p. 294. Then in the Palazzo Doria Pamphili. 94 Id., p. 296. Then in the Palazzo Doria Pamphili; now, apparently, in the Prado Gallery in Madrid. None of the above four, apparently, is allowed as genuine by Crowe and Cavalcaselle. 95 Crowe and Cavalcaselle, Life and Times of Titian, i, 62. ADDISON AND GRAY 427 the hands are painted to a miracle, the skin perfectly transparent, true flesh and blood." 96 Though he seems to have spent most of his time on paintings, Gray was also very observant of sculpture, both ancient and modern, and de- scribes a considerable number of statues. The Alexander the Great in the Palazzo Barberini is impressive, "vastly striking, and undoubtedly the work of some great master." 97 The Bacchus, or Sleeping Fawn, is in the ' ' noblest style possible and perfectly fine in every respect." 98 Of the statues of Alexander Severus and Julia Mam- msea in the Capitol, the attitudes are " stiff, and drapery in little unnatural plaits." 99 The Dying Gladiator is "for expression (after the Laocoon), to be sure the noblest statue in the world." 100 Of modern sculpture he has some- what less to say. Of Bernini's St. Ludovica Alber- toni he says: "She is in the habit of a nun, and consequently wrapped up in a vast deal of dra- pery, which is not very light or natural; however, there is abundance of labour in it and the head is good." 101 Stephano Maderna's St. Cecilia, 96 Works, ed. Mitford, iv, 295f . Then in the Palazzo Doria Pamphili. It cannot be identified with certainty, but may- be the picture now owned by the Earl of Denbigh at New- ham Paddox. See Cust, opp. p. 14. "Id., p. 275. 98 Id., p. 281. Also in the Barberini Palace. 99 Id., p. 299. In the Capitoline Museum, Room v. 100 Id., p. 305. In the same, Room i. 101 Id., p. 261. In the Church of S. Francesco a Ripa Grande. 428 CLARK S. NORTHUP in the Church of St. Cecilia in Trastevere, is "extremely natural, and the drapery easy and simple." 102 Michael Angelo's Christ Trium- phant he greatly admires: "the head somewhat inclining to one side, the looks full of mildness and extensive humanity, and an attitude per- fectly easy and natural; the marble truly soft- ened into flesh; nothing can be more exquisite han the turn of the limbs; sculpture can go no farther." 103 It is strange to find that this work, which was only blocked out by Michael Angelo, is the only one by him of which Gray speaks. Why he did not visit San Pietro in Vincoli or the Vatican, we do not know; there are no notes on these places, nor do Walpole's letters record any visit to them. Early in June, 1740, the travelers again took the road and proceeded to Naples, "through the most beautiful part of the finest country in the world; and every spot of it on some account or other, famous for these three thousand years past." 104 In his notes of this journey we find a plentiful sprinkling of quotations from classi- cal writers; the narrative is full of Addison's spirit. His descriptions of scenery and land- 102 Id., p. 262. 103 Id., p. 270. In the Church of S. Maria sopra Minerva. Cf. Lord Gower, Michael Angelo Buonarroti, London, 1903, pp. 54-55, where various views of this work are expressed. 104 Letters, ed. Tovey, i, 71. ADDISON AND GRAY 429 scape are much fuller than Addison's. On the road to Fondi " the hedges abound with the broad-leaved myrtle, bay, Spanish-broom, lau- rustine and many flowering shrubs I never saw before." 105 Like Addison, he comments on the change noticeable when one leaves the Pope's dominions. "What must such a country be," he asks, "in the times of liberty, when even under the execrable government it has now long been subject to, it can nourish in this manner?" 106 He describes in detail the impressive view from the Monastery of S. Martino. Caravaggio's Denial of Christ in the sacristy "is true nature indeed, and excellent in a low way, but it is a perfectly Dutch scene." 107 Of Ribera's Descent from the Cross he says: "The dead Christ . . . is a most admirable figure both for drawing and colouring; nothing can be more easy, and it perfectly comes forward from the canvass." 108 Of Lanfranco's decoration of the vault he re- marks: "If you come to particular parts, there is no great grace, or expression, neither is the drawing always correct; but in the whole a greatness in the execution, a perfect mastery in io6 Tovey, Gray and His Friends, p. 229. 106 Id., p. 231; Cf. Letters, ed. Tovey, i, 71. 107 Id., p. 234. 108 Id., p. 234. Reproduced by Mrs. Bell in her Lives and Legends of the Evangelists, Apostles, and other Early Saints, London, 1901, p. 170, and by C. von Liitzow, Die Kunst- schatze Italiens, Gera, 1884, p. 484. 430 CLARK S. NORTHUP the management of his colours, and a great harmony, that strikes the eye all at once, a certain furia in his airs, and the draperies always noble and simple." 109 He passed through the Grotta Nuova di Posillipo, and visited the Grotta del Cane and the Stufe di S. Germane He recorded his impressions of Monte Barbaro (the Gaurus) in a Latin poem sent to West. 110 Vesuvius was then extremely quiet ; "some days one could not perceive it smoke at all." His description of Herculaneum, which had been unearthed about a year before, is interesting, but need not detain us. After a fortnight in Rome the party returned on July 14th, to Florence. On August 19th came the news of the election of Benedict XIV; but the heat, much to Gray's regret, prevented them from traveling to Rome to see the corona- tion. Though he passed eleven months in Florence, Gray wrote West that he knew neither people nor language. That the city, however, powerfully appealed to him is evidenced by the lines, "Oh Fsesulse amoena Frigoribus juga," etc., which he enclosed in a letter to West, April 21, 1741. At Reggio occurred the quarrel with Walpole, after which Gray returned home through Venice, Padua, Verona, Milan, Turin, i«2tf. f p. 235. 110 Works, ed. Gosse, i, 179-81. ADDISON AND GRAY 431 and Lyons, which he reached on August 25th. There are no published records of his returning journey. Gray's love of scenery became more intense as he grew older. Though he never again left Great Britain, he made several journeys to the north of England and one to Scotland. The most important record of this experience is found in his Journal in the Lakes, composed directly for Dr. Wharton's benefit. The narra- tive begins at Brough, September 30, 1769. The next day, equipped with a Claude Lorraine glass, he viewed Ulswater — " directly at my feet majestic in its calmness, clear and smooth as a blue mirror, with winding shores and low points of land covered with green inclosures, white farm houses looking out among the trees, and cattle feeding. The water is almost every where bordered with cultivated lands gently sloping upwards till they reach the feet of the mountains, which rise very rude and awful with their broken tops on either hand." 111 Next day, on the road to Keswick, he passed Saddle- back, "whose furrowed sides were gilt by noon- day sun, while its brow appeared of a sad purple from the shadow of the clouds, as they sailed slowly by it." 112 His description of the cele- brated panorama northwest from Castlerigg, 111 Works, ed. Gosse, i, 251. 112 Id., p. 253. 432 CLARK S. NORTHUP a view which has been alleged to have no equal in Great Britain, must be quoted in full: .... Drew near the foot of Walla-crag, whose bare and rocky brow, cut perpendicularly down above four hundred feet, as I guess, awfully over- looks the way; our path here tends to the left, and the ground gently rising, and covered with a glade of scattering trees and bushes on the very margin of the water, opens both ways the most delicious view that my eyes ever beheld. Behind you are the magnificient heights of Walla-crag; opposite lie the thick hanging woods of Lord Egremont, and Newland Valley, with green and smiling fields em- bosomed in the dark cliffs; to the left the jaws of Borrowdale, with that turbulent chaos of mountain behind mountain, rolled in confusion; beneath you, and stretching far away to the right, the shining purity of the Lake, just ruffled by the breeze, enough to shew it is alive, reflecting rocks, woods, fields, and inverted tops of mountains, with the white buildings of Keswick, Crossthwaite Church, and Skiddaw for a background at a distance. 113 As he entered Borrowdale, the crags of Lodor- banks impended terribly over his way; Gowder 111 Works, ed. Gosse, i, 254; cf. p. 264. It will be recalled that Southey wrote of this view: "The vale of Keswick, with Skiddaw for its huge boundary and bulwark, to the North, and where Bassenthwaite stretches into the open country, a distance of water, hills, and remote horizon, in which Claude would have found all he desired, and more than even he could have represented, had he beheld it in the glory of a midsummer sunset." Sir Thomas More, or Colloquies, i, 122. Cf . his comparison of Alpine scenery, Life and Correspondence, iv, 277f. See also Dr. Dalton's Descriptive Poem, quoted in part by Miss Reynolds, op. cit., pp. 226f. \ ADDISON AND GRAY 433 Crag was even more formidable, and reminded him of passes in the Alps where the guides ordered one to move rapidly on in silence. Pas-ing Helm Crag on the Ambleside road, he was also delighted with the broad basin in which lies Grasmere Lake. 114 On the road along Win- dermere toward Kendal he was rewarded with "delicious views" across the lake to the south and west. Continuing through Burton, Lan- caster, and Settle, he came, on October 14th, to Gordale Scar, which powerfully impressed him. The precipice under which he stood to see the fall formed "the principal horror of the place"; the impression he felt sure would last for life. Thence he passed through Skipton to Ottley. Wharf dale was" a beautiful vale" ; "well wooded, well cultivated, well inhabited, but with high crags at distance, that border the green country on either hand, through the midst of it, deep, clear, full to the brink and of no inconsiderable breadth runs in long windings the river." 115 With his arrival at Leeds the journal ceases. IV. It is time to bring together our scattered im- pressions of our two travelers. With reference to politics we have found Addison more inter- 114 Id., p. 265. us Works, ed. Gosse, i, 279. 434 CLARK S. NORTHUP ested than Gray. The latter only rarely alludes to governments, and at the time of his Conti- nental journey had not yet given the subject much thought. Addison, on the other hand, as we have seen, had a keen interest in political affairs. It will be remembered that the verses which brought him his Magdalen demyship in 1689 were on the subject Inauguratio Regis Gulielmi; in 1695 he produced a flattering Address to King William; and his verses on "The Peace of Ryswick" in 1697 impressed Edmund Smith as "the best Latin poem since the Mneid." If Addison designed in these years to take or- ders, it was not because religion absorbed his attention, but rather because the clerical career was in those days regarded by many as a means of avoiding financial embarrassment, and success therein was frequently assured through discreet political activity. 116 The mere retaining of his Magdalen fellowship can hardly have been a dominating motive for taking orders ; for even without this he held the fellowship till 1711. In the expression of religious and theological opinions Addison is far more outspoken than Gray. The latter has less to say on these sub- jects; one gathers from what he does say, how- ever, that he was an eager though not always sympathetic observer of the rites of the Roman Church. On the whole he makes very few criti- cisms of religious beliefs or practices. 118 Courthope, Addison, p. 43. ADDISON AND GRAY 435 In the appreciation and criticism of art we must pronounce Gray far superior. It is true that one of Addison's motives for saying so little about the paintings in Rome was possibly that he thought others had treated the subject better than he could, and another was that he was writing for a public little interested in the criticism of painting. Still, several readings of his travels convince me that he cared little for the art of painting; sculpture, especially ancient sculpture, appealed to him far more. Had Greek and Roman painting more largely survived, Addison might have been less in- different to this form of art. Gray was far more attentive to painting than to sculpture. In his notes on Rome, for example, he cat- alogues more than two hundred and fifty paintings with some comment on almost every one; of pieces of sculpture he mentions specifi- cally not more than forty. In judging a picture he was likely to note the propriety of the sub- ject and treatment, the correctness of the draw- ing, characteristics of the painter, and the state of preservation. His taste led him, in general, to the best pictures accessible, and he made few mistakes of judgment. Perhaps he is most at variance with modern views in his dislike of Andrea del Sarto. There were, of course, many art treasures which for some reason he did not see at all, or on which, at least, he has left no comments. Many pictures, too, he doubtless 436 CLARK S. NORTHUP saw in a poor light, and hence could not do them justice. The Borghese paintings, for example, were at that time in a wretched condi- tion, 117 and could not be seen to advantage. On the subject of architecture we find little in the writings of either traveler that is of much importance. Neither writer at this period of his life had fully awakened to the significance of architectural design or its influence upon the senses. Addison, it is true, compares St. Peter's to a Gothic cathedral to the disadvantage of the latter, 118 and decides that the cross form is better for large buildings than the rotund. Gray is severe on the tawdry effects of Versailles ; he describes the Pitti Palace with care and accur- acy; he pronounces the Roman Capitol "in a very noble taste." Yet neither writer on the whole gives as much attention to describing buildings or even to architectural details as a present day writer would be likely to do. Of the impression left by the Duomo or S. Croce in Florence, S. Marco or the Doges' Palace in Venice, or the Castello del Ovo in Naples, upon either writer, we have no record. They were then more interested in other things. We have already inspected Addison's quota- tions and noted his indifference to modern 117 Gray, Works, ed. Mitford, iv, 230f. 118 Works, ed. Bohn, i, 417. ADDISON AND GRAY 437 writers and to prose both ancient and modern. It is singular that Gray, who was well read in Italian, 119 and not at all blind to the merits of the modern writers, does not, in describing his travels, quote from any modern writer; and the quotations he does make, for example in the pages describing Naples and its environs, are all from the Latin poets. If he sought for the haunts of Dante in Florence, of Petrarch at Parma or Milan or Padua, or of Tasso or Ariosto at Ferrara, he makes no mention of it in either his letters or his notes. From a lit- erary point of view Italy was for him primarily, as it was for Addison, the land of Virgil, Silius Italicus, Statius, Martial, Livy, and Tully. It is in respect to Nature that the most con- siderable contrast is seen between the two. We have already noted Addison's attitude, and observed how he generally prefers the milder aspects of Nature. Gray, even in his youth— and we may well believe the passion did not lessen, but rather increased with years — loved Nature in all her aspects. For him the per- sonal discomfort incident to the hardships of Alpine travel in those days was as nothing to the delight with which he viewed the varied and majestic scenery. 120 He sounded a new note in literature, a note which has not ceased 119 Cf . Letters, ed. Tovey, i, 15, note 1. 120 Contrast Walpole's attitude, e.g., Letters, ed. Mrs. Toynbee, i, 93. 438 CLARK S. NORTHUP to be associated with rich harmonies, when he wrote in the album of the Grande Chartreuse: Prsesentiorem et conspicimus Deum Per invias rupes, fera per juga, Clivosque prseruptos, sonantes Inter aquas, nemorumque noctem; Quam si repostus sub trabe citrea Fulgeret auro, et Phidiaca manu. The question how far each writer is typical of his generation is too large to answer here; my space having already been exhausted. I can only record my impression that Addison is somewhat more typical than Gray, who seems in some respects to be in advance of his times. This is especially true, I think, of his treatment of Nature. Finally, how great was the influence of his travels on each writer? Much less, I think, on Addison than on Gray. The Dialogues on Medals reveal few specific traces of influence of the scene amid which they were written. 121 In some issues of The Tatler, The Spectator, and The Guardian, 122 Addison draws on his Continental experiences. With Addison's Letter from Italy may be compared Gray's Farewell to Florence, Fragment on the Gaurus, Elegiacs from Trebia, 121 In Works, ed. Bohn, i, 259, he notes the familiarity of Carraccio, Raphael, LeBrun, and Rubens with medals, and in ii, 215, he refers to Correggio's Cupid and Mercury. 122 E.g., The Tatler, No. 93; The Spectator, Nos. 15, 25, 42, 83, 393; The Guardian, Nos. 101, 104; The Freeholder, No. 30 ADDISON AND GRAY 439 Carmen ad Favonium, Alcaic Ode, and some fragments. With the numberless ways in which their experiences as travelers doubtless entered into their lives and, though without being detected, into their writings, we cannot further deal here. That the lives of both, how- ever, were richer and more useful as a result of these experiences, the careful reader can have little doubt. THE PLAYS OF EDWARD SHARPHAM BY MARTIN VV . SAMPSON, M.A. Very little is known of Edward Sharpham, save that he was the son of Richard Sharpham of Devonshire, that he became a member of the Middle Temple in 1594, and that he was the author of a comedy, The Fleire (S. R. 13 May and 21 Nov. 1606), and the probable author of another comedy, Cupid's Whirligig (S. R. 29 June 1607). Each of these plays was printed at least four times between 1607 and 1631, and neither play has since, I think, been re- printed. Reprinting would doubtless be an undeserved distinction, but a note on the plays will hardly be out of place. Hitherto they have received but scant com- ment: — the index to Ward's Dramatic Litera- ture makes no mention of Sharpham or or the plays; Collier (Dram. Poetry, ii, 502) inciden- tally refers to a quotation from Marlowe in The Fleire; Genest (x, 94) sketches the plot of The Fleire and calls it a " tolerable comedy," — Cupid's Whirligig (not assigned to an author) being promptly dismissed without outline, as "a poor play with nothing to commend it THE PLAYS OF SHARPHAM 441 except some low humour in the dialogue" (x, 93) ; the several editions of Langbaine and his suc- cessors in the Biographia Dramatica mention Sharpham and the plays but briefly, as does Schelling (Eliz. Dr. i, 518) ; and Fleay's comment (Biog. Chron. ii, 232), besides being brief, con- tains two errors: 6 Maj r for 13 May, the date of entry (Halliwell 1 and Hazlitt 2 rnake the same mistake), and 1621 for 1631, the date of the fourth edition, respectively, of The Fleire. "A Comedie called The fleare" was entered to John Trundell and John Busbye 13 May 1606, " Provided that they are not to printe yt tell they bringe good aucthoritie and licence for the Doinge thereof" (Arber, hi, 321). On 21 Nov. of the same year another entry (Arber, hi, 333) notes the assignment of the book from John Trundell to John Busbie and Arthure Johnson, with the authority of Sir George Bucke (at that time deputy to the master of the revels). The four extant impressions are of 1607, 1610, 1615, and 1631, the last three of which were printed for Nathaniel Butter. The four editions exhibit only unimportant variations: each later edition is printed, practi- cally page for page, from the edition immediately preceding, and the differences in spelling, etc., are only those that would naturally occur in a rapid setting up where there was no intention to 1 Diet. Old Eng. Plays. 2 Handbook. 442 MARTIN W. SAMPSON reprint literatim. There are no additions or changes in the substance of the text; and as the apology of the publisher to the effect that he has lost the author's preface, 3 and cannot learn the author's whereabouts, appears in all the editions, it is safe to say that from first to last the test underwent no critical revision before reprinting. The first edition — the only one, therefore, that need be considered — is a quarto, the text running from sig. B 1 , to H 4 , 56 pages. The title page reads : The | Fleire.] As it hath beene often played in the |Blacke-Fryers by the Children of | the Reuells. | Written by Edward Sharpham of the Middle Temple, Gentle- | man. | At London, | Printed and are to be solde by F. B. 4 in Paules-Church- | yard, at the signe of the Flower de Luce and the | Crowne. 1607. The play is in prose and verse, a good deal of the latter being printed as prose, from which, to be frank, it is not always readily distinguisable. The acts are marked, but the scenes are not indi- cated. There is no list of the characters, who (excluding servants) number sixteen, five of them being women. The publisher's preface declares that the play is the author's " first 3 The loss of this preface is the more to be regretted, as it might perhaps have thrown a side light on current theatrical matters. 1 Francis Burton. THE PLAYS OF SHARPHAM 443 Minerua," and promises more if this is accept- able. The date of performance may be said with reasonable certainty to be not earlier than 1605, first because of the omission of the words "Her Majesty's" from the Children's title, and second because of the obvious resemblance of the chief character in the play to the chief character in Marston's Parasitaster, or The Fawne (S. R. 12 March 1606), a play which was given, as the first edition (1606) states, in the Blackfriars by the children of Her Majesty's Revels, and " since at Poules," as the second edition (also of 1606) notes. This would indicate that The Fawne was taken over by the Paul's children after the Eastward Ho trouble at Blackfriars in 1605, and that a new play with the same kind ot leading figure was substituted for it in the Revels chil- dren's repertory. On the other hand, the jests about Englishmen turned Britons would imply the earliest date compatible with the foregoing facts. The date of The Fleire would then seem to fall in 1605-6. The title of the play, Fleire, is a word made up, after the manner of Marston's word, Fawne, by using as a noun the verb-form, instead of the more logical but less forcible ' fleerer,' or ' fawner.' 'Fleer,' which has preserved a place in our lan- guage, means to laugh mockingly, to sneer or gibe, a meaning which sufficiently suggests the title personage of the comedy. 444 MARTIN W. SAMPSON With the similarity of Duke Antifront, dis- guised as the Fleire, to Duke Hercules, dis- guised as the Fawne,the important resemblance between the plays really ends: the plots are not the same. Of The Fleire, much of the plot and most of the personages are fundamentally un- pleasant. The story centers in the deposed Duke of Florence, who, in disguise, has left Italy to search for his daughters; he finds them courtesans in London, enters their service as usher, and finally brings about their marriages to their lovers. Jealous intrigues, supposed murders, and much buffoonery figure in the play, whose main ob j ect , however, is to give Fleire a chance to comment bitingly on the vices and follies of the day. The play, then, is a satirical comedy of manners and customs, and not a romance, or, strictly speaking, a comedy of intrigue, either of which its mere story migh + permit it to be. The play has an over-symmetrical supply of characters to meet the demands of the plot. Two men of title are in love with the two court- esans; two sisters are in love with two gentle- men, and disguise themselves as pages in the hope of entering the gentlemen's service. This proving impossible, they enter the service ot the men of title. The courtesans woo the gentle- men, and being refused by them, decide on poi- soning them with the help of the men of title. Fleire, who has been on the stage almost inces- THE PLAYS OF SHARPHAM 445 santly, a confidant of every one, now disguises himself as an apothecary and sells the would-be murderers a harmless sleeping potion; and then, disguised as a judge, presides at their murder trial. The play ends with marriages arranged between the courtesans and their lovers, and the gentlemen and the sister pages; and the un- expected restoration of Antifront, the Fleire, to his dukedom. Two or three other charac- ters drift through the play, but they are "hu- mours," not essentially connected with the plot. The movement of the play is in the main slow, but the dialogue is rapid when the action lags. Many of Fleire's jests are keen, and in his tilts with the other characters he always scores. The playing at cross-purposes which forms the entanglement denotes a fondness for paradox which Sharpham exhibits freely in his dialogue as well as in his plot. The char- acters, as originally conceived, are sufficiently varied to carry on the plot effectively, but their speech is so much in one key that the sense of variety is lost. The entire first act is taken up with the pre- sentation of the characters, Fleire's entrance into service, and Nan and Susan's determination to disguise themselves as pages. The scene in which a gull, Petoune, "a great Tobaconist," is chaffed by the four gallants, Sir John, Piso, Spark, and Ruftell, is fairly typical of the style of the dialogue in general: 446 MARTIN W. SAMPSON Spa. Sure Ladies I must needes say th' instinct of this herb hath wrought in this Gentleman such a diuine influence of good words, excellet discourse, admirable inuention, incoparable wit : why I tel yee, when he talkes, wisdom stands a mile off and dares not come neere him, for feare a should shame her: but before a did vse this Tobacco, a was the arrantst Woodcock that euer I saw. Pet. Indeed I was a very silly fellow. Ruff. Nay you were an arrant asse. Pet. Sure I was a foole. Kni. Nay, you were a most monstrous puppie. Pet. Indeed I was an idiot, a verie Idiot. Piso. By this light thou wert a most egregious coxcombe. Pet. Indeed I was, indeed I was. A good contrast to this follows in the gallant's tilt with Fleire, in which the tables are turned. The second act advances the story only to the point where, gently refused by Spark and Ruff ell, Florida and Felecia crave revenge. Most of the act is taken up by Fleire, who is on the stage the entire time, conversing confidentially with all the leading characters in turn, and proffer- ing help in their several designs. In the third act, wooed by letters from Piso and Sir John, Florida and Felecia determine to use their lovers to further their own revenge. Fleire encourages the further wooing of his daughters and incidentally helps to persuade Petoune to woo the bawd Fromaga. THE PLAYS OF SHARPHAM 447 It is not until the fourth act that the scheme of revenge matures. After Petoune's ludicrous wooing of Fromaga, Florida and Felecia (over- heard by Fleire, Nan, and Susan) induce their accepted lovers to poison the two gallants. Fleire and the girl-pages determine to prevent the murder. The scene shifts; " Enter Sig- nior Amnio the Apothecarie in his shop with his wares about him." Fleire appears in disguise, "in happie time," for Alunio wishes to go to Italy and needs some one to look after the shop in his absence. Fleire declares himself to be a Florentine, and forthwith he is appointed to the vacant position. Alunio goes out, Sir John and Piso come in, and Fleire sells them the sleeping potion instead of the poison. The fifth act comes at once to the news of the gallants' death and the announcement of the trial. Fleire, by the simple stratagem of send- ing the ring of an absent judge, imposes him- self on the court, Portia-like; tries the case, and reveals the whole plan and his own device for preventing mischief; and all ends happily, — young Piso, whose father, the Duke of Florence has just died, resigning his claims in favor of Fleire. This rough abstract is not unjust to the play so far as its plot is concerned, but it lays no stress on the brisk (and not usually quotable) dialogue in which consists the life of the play. Quite outside of the plot, for instance, is the 448 MARTIN W. SAMPSON satirical description by Spark and Ruffell of the people they saw in hell during the time that the sleeping potion was effective. The dis- tribution of speeches throughout the play, it should be said, is notably good. The failure to emphasize the motive for the courtesans' proffer of their love to Spark and Ruffell instead of to Piso and Sir John, is the main flaw in the logic of the plot. In the British Museum copy of the first edi- tion of the play, there are ms alterations in a seventeenth century hand. Some one, it would appear, had set about improving the play, partly by cuts in the dialogue but chiefly by omitting the two characters, Piso and Susan. This change, which shows the right dramatic im- patience of duplicated characters, would, if carried out, necessitate some rewriting as well as excision ; but the unknown reviser attempts only curtailment, and does not fully carry out even this intention. Besides the essential likeness of Fleire to Fawne, there are some minor allusions and lit- tle borrowings in the play. The jokes about Petoune's red nose were better done when the nose was Bardolph's; Nan and Susan's talk about their suitors remotely recalls Portia and Nerissa's scene; Fromaga resembles Juliet's nurse; there are references to "Thisbe in the play," and to Marlowe's "pampered lades of Asia;" and now and then belated euphuism THE PLAYS OF SHARPHAM 449 colors the speech. The similarity of Fleire's application for employment to Kent's applica- tion to Lear, and its bearing on the date of King Lear I have commented on elsewhere. 5 If the similarity be admitted, and if Sharpham be regarded as the borrower from Snakespeare and not Shakespeare from Sharpham (a hardly tenable hypothesis), then the date hitherto re- garded as the latest possible for the writing of Lear must be moved forward several months, from some time before 26 December 1606 (the first recorded performance of Lear) to some time before 13 May, 1606, the date of entry of The Fleire. Cupid's Whirligig appeared in 1607, 1611, 1616, and 1630, dates that preserve a fairly close parallel with the dates of The Fleiri, but that warrant no definite conclusion concerning author- ship. The first three editions were printed for Arthur Johnson, and the fourth for R. Meighen. The relation of the four editions to one an- other is the same as that existing among the four editions of the other play; there are no changes of moment. The title page of the first edition reads: Cupids | Whirligig. | As it hath bene sundry times Acted | by the Children of the Kings Majesties | Reuels. | London, j Imprinted by E. Allde, and are to bee solde by Arthur | Iohnson, at the signe of the 6 Mod. Lang. Quarterly, July, 1902, p. 71. 450 MARTIN W. SAMPSON white Horse, nere | the great North doore of Saint Paules Church. | 1607. The play is in prose and verse, most of the latter printed as prose; acts are indicated, scenes not; a list of characters precedes, and a pro- logue follows, the author's dedication, which is signed "E: S." Besides these initials there is nothing to establish the authorship of the com- edy. Phillips in his Theatrum Poetarum, 1675, ascribed the play to Thomas Goffe (b. 1591 !), as did Winstanley in his Lives, 1687 ; 6 Langbaine, 1691, puts it among the plays by unknown authors. The 1 782 Biographia Dramatica quotes the statement of Coxeter that an old bookseller had told him that the play had been falsely entered as Shakespeare's to make it sell. (There is no other evidence of this rumored ascription to Shakespeare, and the actual entry in the Stationers' Register — Arber, iii, 354 — mentions no author's name.) Oldys, Haslewood, and others, in their ms annotations of Langbaine (Br. M. copies of the book), make no additional mention of the play. As far as I know, it was Stephen Jones, in his 1812 edition of the Biog. Dram., who first said that the play was prob- ably Sharpham's. Halliwell (Diet. Old Plays, 6 Langbaine, in the preface to his Momus Triumphans, explains that this ascription is due to the carelessness of Phillips in copying Kirkman's 1671 list, and in attributing all anonymous plays to whatever author had been mentioned immediately before. THE PLAYS OF SHARPHAM 451 1860) also names Sharpham as the probable author. The Br. M. Catalogue queries the as- cription to Sharpham; but the 1836 Catalogue of Malone's books in the Bodleian enters the play (qualified by "Anon.") under Sharpham's name. Halkett and Laing assign definitely to Sharpham; as does Fleay, who offers no proof. Greg (List of English Plays, 1900) and Schelling (Eliz. Drama, 1908) also make the definite as- signment. That the play is by Sharpham is highly likely, — a number of things point pretty clearly that way; but the evidence is not conclusive beyond all doubt. The dedication "To his much honoured, be- loued, respected, and iudiciall friend, Maister Robert Hayman," written in antithetic vein, affords some. reason for thinking E. S. to be Edward Sharpham. The Robert Hayman re- ferred to can hardly be other than the sometime governor of the Harbor-Grace plantation in Newfoundland, and the author of "Quodlibets, lately come over from New Britaniola, Old Newfound-land. Epigrams and other small parcels.". . . . (published 1628), and of "Cer- taine Epigrams out of the first foure Bookes of the excellent Epigrammatist Master, John Owen," 1628 (in the volume translated from Joannes Owen are also two "rayling epistles" of "Rablais"). In neither volume do I find reference to Sharpham. But, like Sharpham, 452 MARTIN W. SAMPSON Hay man was a Devonian and an Inns of-Court man, having been at Lincoln's Inn when Sharp- ham was at the Middle Temple. An exami- nation of the play will show other indications of Sharpham's probable authorship. The plot of Cupid's Whirligig, although less repulsive than that of The Fleire, is in detail coarser: a brief outline will therefore suffice. Sir Timothy Troublesome is violently, but causelessly, jealous of his wife, and confusedly divides his time between laying plans to prove her infidelity and begging forgiveness for his baseless suspicions. The Lady herself is much annoyed by the persistent attentions of the young Lord Nonsuch, who, repulsed in his own person, vainly seeks, through one disguise after another, to gain her favor, regardless of his father's wish that he should marry Nan, the Alderman's daughter. A Welshman, Nuecome, seems to be in love with Nan, who holds him in scorn, but her friend Peg views him with a fav- orable eye. Maister Correction, a pedant, has as wife an amiable bawd, with whom Wages, Sir Timothy's serving man, is in love. Through intrigues and schemes, slow of movement, but set forth in animated dialogue, the action finally centres in the brisk scene which gives the play its title : — Lady Troublesome begs her husband to overcome his jealousy and believe in her faithful love, but in a rage Sir Timothy leaves her; the young Lord Nonsuch enters and prof- THE PLAYS OF SHARPHAM 453 fers once more his pity and his love, but the Lady scornfully goes out; Nan comes in and frankly declares her love; but Nonsuch runs away from her; Nuecome appears and endeavors to woo her, but Nan flies from his affectionate metaphors; Peg enters, but her soft entreaties arouse no tender feeling in Nuecome, who leaves the stage; and then Sir Timothy reenters and avows his love to Peg, who bids him seek else- where. Cupid who from some coign of van- tage has observed the entire scene, correctly declares that his whirligig has swung completely round, and that now the right couples shall be united. Through a quadruple masked wedding this is brought about, and the play ends with the proper arrangement of lovers and spouses, only Wages being left without a partner. The play has two points of resemblance to The Fawne, — the presence of Cupid, and the similarity of Sir Timothy to Marston's Don Zuccone. One incident in the fourth act is taken from the Decameron, vii, 6. 7 Sir Timo- thy calls his hungry servant a " pampered lade" for complaining (Launcelot Gobbo fashion) of his scanty food, and the same knight's apostro- phe to women recalls Hamlet's "What a piece of work is a man!" Nuecome's notion that he has "a reasonable good legge" was antici- 7 This very slight indebtedness to Boccaccio does not war- rant Fleay's remark that the play is "founded on" the Decameron. Schelling also overestimates the debt. 454 MARTIN W. SAMPSON pated by Master Stephen in Every Man in His Humour. An allusion to The Valiant Welshman is noted by Fleay : this play was published in 1615 and its date of performance is uncertain. The allusion (Biog. Chron. gives no reference) seems to be only a remark addressed to Nue- come, a Welshman : "They say to, moste of your Countriemen are verie valiant" (Act ii). The following image — "The world it selfe is but a skillfull game at chesses, which beeing ended, Kinges and Queenes, Bishops and Knightes into one bags (sic) are throwne at last" — appeared in Jacke Drums Entertainment (1601) thus: "And after death like Chesmen hauing stood In play for Bishops, some for Knights, and Pawnes, We all together shall be tumbled vp, into one bagge — " An interesting anticipation of Burns occurs in the second act: — "Man was made when nature was but an apprentice, but woman when she was a skilfull Mistresse of her Arte." The points that Cupid's Whirligig has in com- mon with The Fleire make reasonable the hypo- thesis of one author for the two plays. A cer- tain whimsical complication in the slow-mov- ing plot, the mocking tone of the dialogue, the jests (i.e., those upon puritans, tobacco, and " inns-a-court men"), the coarseness of language, the use of disguises, the sufficiently obvious reminiscences of Shakespeare (cf. Prof. Dowden's edition of Romeo and Juliet), the unpoetical verse, the mock-heroic rant, the limited range THE PLAYS OF SHARPHAM 455 of the dramatis personae, — indicate one hand rather than two. These marks, however, are frequent enough in the comedy of the time to prevent the evidence from being conclusive; but, all things considered, there is much more to say in behalf of Sharpham's authorship of Cupid's Whirligig than against it. The brief article in the Diet. Nat. Biog. rightly casts doubt on the ascriptions to Sharpham of the verses signed "E. S." in Henry Peacham's Minerva Brittanna: the verses have nothing of Sharpham's manner, so far as it is revealed in the plays. Among the laudatory verses pre- fixed to John Davies' Humours Heau'n on Earth (1605) is a sonnet signed "Ed: Sharphell." This, as the D. N. B. says, may be by Sharpham : it is certainly not unlike his style. "V A NOTE ON THE VERSE STRUCTURE OF CAREW BY CHARLES J. SEMBOWER, PH.D. Carew is perhaps best remembered as the first master in English of courtly, amorous verse. The aim of his art is compliment, but compli- ment so skillfully turned that it may invite the unembarrassed scrutiny of its object, and please insensibly. It seems, in fact, to urge a thing so reasonable that to reject it as compli- ment is to reject the truth. The tone of it, meanwhile, is of that indefinable vivacity, that gayety of spirit which can be neither affected nor easily acquired, coming, as it does, from a sincere desire to please. Considered merely as an art, none is more difficult. Upon an instrument of narrowly limited range, the poet must achieve, seemingly without effort, a great variety of effects. He must at once be freely spontaneous and care- fully restrained; he must affect familiar ease of manner and yet conform with delicate tact to the established canons of good taste ; he must possess wit without pedantry; and, though he is compelled by the premises of his art to be THE VERSE OF CAREW 457 faithfully realistic, his appeal to self-love must be refined of all its grossness. In a word, the coterie poet must be a master in the hyperbole of compliment. All this, and more, has been effected by Carew, without resorting to the usual means of attain- ing it. Poets who have succeeded in this art of fanciful gallantry have generally shown great ingenuity in the invention of novel metri- cal forms. Originality in this respect has served to safeguard them against the inherent monotony of their appeal. But upon such devices Carew depended scarcely at all. Even of metrical lightness and coquetry, such as is found, for instance, in the best verses of Suck- ling, there is very little. Indeed, the octosylla- bics and pentameters of Carew, admirable as they are for their exquisite fineness and whole- ness of texture, seem at times, for the purpose of vers de societe, almost too sedate. .Carew's stanzaic structure is simple. The most common form, perhaps, is the six- line stanza, riming ab, ab, cc, of which " Mediocrity in Love Rejected" is a good example. This poem has but two stanzas : the first rimes ab, ab, giving a completed phase of the appeal, plus the couplet cc, which has the effect of epigram- matic enforcement; the second is rimed ab, ab, cc, dd, in which the cc is not this time an epi- grammatic enforcement of the ab, ab, but fused with it by means of an overflow of the ab, ab 458 CHARLES J. SEMBOWER lines into the couplet. The recurrence of the epigrammatic theme is thus delayed for a mo- ment to reappear in the concluding dd couplet. A very common form, too, is a five-line stanza, ab, abb; it gives a neat and compact effect, but otherwise is not found to be of interest. The quatrain form, aa, bb, frequently occurs. This form is at first a little hard to understand. Why should the couplets be printed in pairs? Upon second glance, however, the reason for this stanzaic spacing becomes plain. Each set of four lines is held together by a unity both grammatical and rhetorical, and by unity of structure and function constitutes a distinct whole. The poem moves forward by fours, and is frequently terminated by an epigram- matic couplet. Another form is a ten-line stanza, as in "A Deposition from Love," rim- ing ab ab / cd cd / ee, in which the quatrains express distinct stages of the thought, linked by the illative phrase 'yet I believe'; the con- cluding couplet gives the usual epigrammatic reflection. There is also a " sonnet form" with the following rime scheme, ab ba/ ab ba / ab ba / bb, which is, of course, only a sonnet in the sense of having fourteen lines. This brief ac- count of some of the commoner stanzaic forms of Carew is intended merely to suggest what is meant by saying that with him the stanza is not an important element of structure. It may be incidentally remarked that the longer stanzas THE VERSE OF CAREW 459 are in effect about midway between purely stanzaic effects and those of the couplet and blank verse. Likewise, it may be said that Carew was far from being an originator in respect to his em- ployment of the couplet. His couplets have a stately onward movement. The cesura shifts gracefully, and the rimes chime variously and melodiously, as for instance in 'Secrecy Pro- tested/ where 'reveal and steal' are followed by 'sun and done/ 'we and he/ 'dart and heart/ 'tell and dwell/ 'out and doubt/ 'view and true/ 'fear and there.' In brief, Carew's couplets are smooth and flexible, and in respect to correct- ness are a distinct advance beyond most of the verse of his time; but even so, they furnish only the whole cloth, so to speak, out of which his poems are made. The important aspects of Carew's structure are (1) variety in length of line, (2) rhetorical grouping of lines into "verse-paragraphs," and (3) an illative method of development in the construction of the poem as a whole. These three aspects of structure will be briefly consid- ered, by this paper, in turn. Carew's audience expected of him ease, grace, and novelty; but at the same time it expected him to expend in attaining these qualities no more effort than was in keeping with his char- acter of gentleman and courtier. In attempting to adapt himself to these conditions of his art, 460 CHARLES J. SEMBOWER he did not resort as we have seen to variety of metrical effects or to intricate stanzaic struc- ture. He did, however, for the sake of variety, resort to the simple device of varying the length of line. Thus, he gave himself more scope both for variety of movement and for a more fre- quently recurrent echo of rime. At times, it must be admitted, the effect seems hardly organic; it is rather that of variety merely for the sake of variety, as in the following stanza, which is scarcely more than a group of octosyl- labic couplets varied by shortening the third and seventh lines, and by lengthening the fourth and eighth: "O think not, Phoebe, 'cause a cloud Doth now thy silver brightness shroud, My wand'ring eye Can stoop to common beauties of the sky. Rather be kind, and this eclipse Shall neither hinder eye nor lips; For we shall meet Within our hearts, and kiss, and none shall see't." Here, in a sense, is variety of movement ; but a variety which as such is not organically ex- pressive. As one turns page after page, variety even of this kind is pleasant enough with its appearance of newness and promise of relief; but nevertheless this refreshment does not in the end justify itself. The reader's eye and ear are relieved for the moment, but he soon finds that a monotonous adjustment of attention is required of him in spite of the apparent dif- THE VERSE OF CAREW 461 ference of appeal. When, however, the variety is really organic and the attention — by the help of the form — makes a new adjustment, and finds the new music the harmony of a new meaning, the artisti£3ense is at once refreshed and satisfied. This is what, at his best, Carew does. To illustrate this point, let us take "Love's Courtship." It will be found in this instance, I think, that the variation of length of line justifies itself immediately, because its function is organic: Kiss, lovely Celia, and be kind; Let my desires freedom find, Sit thee down, And we will make the gods confess Mortals enjoy some happiness. Mars would disdain his mistress' charms If he beheld thee in my arms, And descend, Thee his mortal queen to make: Or live as mortal for thy sake. \ Venus must lose her title now, And leave to brag of Cupid's bow; Silly Queen! She hath but one, but I can spy Ten thousand Cupids in thy eye. Nor may the sun behold our bliss, For sure thy eyes do dazzle his; If thou fear That he'll betray thee with his light, Let me eclipse thee from his sight! 462 CHARLES J. SEMBOWER And while I shade thee from his eye Oh! let me hear thee gently cry, Celia yields! etc. In this case each of the short lines suggests •southing pertinent to the general effect, from the brevity of "Sit thee down" and the arch- ness of "Silly Queen!" to the sudden delight of "Celia yields!" We may now turn to the second important element in Carew's structure, the "verse-para- graphs," for illustration taking one of his best known poems, "Persuasions to Love." Here the structure seems at first glance to be merely that of successive octosyllabic couplets. But upon closer reading the couplets are found to group themselves into skillfully built up para- graphs. The first, beginning, Think not, 'cause men flattering say You're fresh as April, sweet as May, Bright as is the morning star, That you are so; argues through logical stages dealing with the inadvisability of pride, and of niggardliness with the beauty that is given the lady to be enjoyed, to the conclusion that 'twere a madness not to grant That which affords (if you consent) To you, the giver, more content Than me, the beggar. THE VERSE OF CAREW 463 And the next stave, beginning, Oh, then be Kind to yourself, if not to me. presses home this phase of the argument in twelve lines of amplification which is easy, graceful, and logically developed. It is not difficult in some of these " verse-paragraphs" to get the gist of the meaning, as in certain of the best prose-paragraphs — say Burke's — by reading the first and last fines of the group. Indeed, in the verse of Carew — and this brings us to the third element of his verse- structure — the reader constantly feels the at- traction and interest of progress, step by step, ^oward a goal. As the eye runs along the page, .v is arrested at the beginning of the staves, or " verse-paragraphs," by such conjunctions, and conjunctive phrases as the following: "Then had you reason," " Thereby make me to pine," "For that same lovely face will fail," "O love me, then, and now begin it," "Then wisely choose one for your friend," "For when the storms of time have moved," "0 then, be wise, and whilst your season," "Yet, I confess, I cannot spare," "Though these be powerful arguments to prove I love in vain, yet I must ever love," "Now hear, just Judge, an act of savageness," "Thus hath this cruel lady used a true servant." These instances might be extended almost indefinitely. The effect of 464 CHARLES J. SEMBOWER reasonable argument suggested by them is at once obvious and significant. It helps to abate the purely personal element in compliment, while at the same time, it heightens the flavour of self-love, and prolongs pleasant self-contem- plation. This inferential method of develop- ing the whole poem was new to English verse, at least in the degree in which Carew employed it, when he began to write. The Elizabethans had been "sweet, ' ' — consciously and deliberate- ly poetical ; and in this respect they and Carew are not unlike. But, though there are traces of the illative method in the Elizabethans, and more than merely traces in some of Carew's contemporaries, yet on the whole these poets give rather the impression of being impulsive and spontaneous in the ordinary sense of those words. They jet forth, so to speak, feathery sprays of sentiment that alternately burst out and subside. The element of variety in their lyrics (I speak in very general terms) is that given — to continue the figure — by the shifting of the breeze, or by a chance play of light and shadow. Such a fountain may be watched for a moment with real interest — its elusive grace attracts again and again, — but if one sits before it for an hour's entertainment, its beauty becomes monotonous. This is not so in the case of Carew. His method is not the best, perhaps, for the expression of a "lyrical cry," nor, indeed for the expression of lyrical feeling from any THE VERSE OF CAREW 465 very deep source. Such lyrical feeling wells up spontaneously from the innermost depths of personality. Its source is the source of life itself; and it most tellingly embodies itself in forms correspondingly unmethodical and free. But the intellect, too, has its desire for play, and sometimes wishes the fancy to give way to it for a moment, as too often — take poetry all in all — the intellect has had, in the name of spontaneity, to give place to what may claim to be lyrical only because it is the very caprice of willfulness. Carew's moments of the deepest inspiration are rare. But he is a true 'poet none the less, and he shows it most in recognizing his limita- tions and in developing his art within them. In this regard he is, I think, not unlike two of his French contemporaries, Malherbe and Voi- ture. Anyone fresh from reading these lyrists across the Channel will hardly question this assertion. Like Carew, they are adepts in the art of poetical compliment, and it may be that they helped him in more ways than one . — in the choice of right material, \j)erhaps, and in striking the true^note in the treatment of it. And both, but Malherbe in particular, in affect- ing to compel assent to their flattery, assume that air of reasonableness which has been spoken of in connection with Carew. As an example of this manner in Malherbe, we may take his "Epigramme, Writ in Calista's Prayer Book." 466 CHARLES J. SEMBOWER Tant que vous serez sans amour, Calista, priez nuit et jour, Vous n'aurez point misericorde; Ce n'est pas que Dieu ne soit doux: Mais pensez-vous qu'il vous accorde Ce qu'on ne peut de vous? If Carew's range is narrow, he achieves in spite of it what is a very difficult artistic success, the avoidance of satiety while keeping within a small circle of interests, and that, too with no evidence of effort beyond what is pleasurably inherent in the limitations of his art. And he succeeds in it mainly, I think, by means of this pseudo-logical appeal. To be sure, the silken smoothness of his versification, the winning grace of his cesural and line variations, the chim- ing of his melodious rime, are to be taken into account in trying to define the full strength of his appeal. But his choicest effect, perhaps, and the one most peculiarly his own, is that arch pretense of logic which, step by step, shows the amorous acceptance to be a matter of necessity. It is the intellect decking itself in the garb of fancy; the illative sense at play with sentiment. THE IMPORTANCE OF THE GHOST IN HAMLET BY WILLIAM STRUNK, JR., PH.D. Hamlet holds a unique position among Shake speare's plays by reason of the challenge which it has offered to interpretation. As a whole and in its details the play has been the subject of more discussion than any other of its author's works. The judgments passed upon Hamlet's conduct have been of the most diverse kind, and correspondingly diverse theories have been formulated to account for his delay in carrying out his task, or to disprove that such delay exists. Not a few students of the tragedy, among whom may be mentioned J. Halliwell- Phillipps {Memoranda on Hamlet, 1879, pp. 6-7), have after long study expressed their conviction that the mystery of the play is insoluble. Since modern research has tended to lend support to the hypothesis that Hamlet, in its received form, represents Shakespeare's revi- sion and expansion of a first draft (represented imperfectly by the First Quarto, 1603), itself a rewriting of a lost play by Thomas Kyd, 468 WILLIAM STRUNK, JR. other students, of whom one of the latest is Professor C. M. Lewis (The Genesis of Hamlet, 1907), have frankly admitted the inconsis- tencies of the text, accounting for them as resulting from the presence in the play of inharmonious material retained from the ori- ginal source and from Shakespeare's first ver- sion. No attempt to formulate a comprehen- sive explanation of Hamlet's conduct, from that of Goethe in 1795 to the latest with which I am acquainted, that of Dr. Ernest Jones (The American Journal of Psychology, Jan., 1910), has been generally accepted as satis- factorily accounting for everything in the play. Consciously or unconsciously, all the critics disregard some of the data. Professor Lewis, for example, deems it justifiable to disregard, in estimating Hamlet's character, such details as the sending of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to their death, as Hamlet's remark about "per- fect conscience," as his soliloquy on meeting the troops of Fortinbras. "The composite Hamlet is not an entity at all, and therefore not a subject for psychological analysis" (p. 133). Whether or not the reader is prepared to go quite so far as this, he will, I think, be ready to concede that the main desideratum in interpreting Hamlet is not to provide an answer for every difficult question that may be asked in connec- tion with the play, but to discover, if that be possible, how Shakespeare intended his hero's THE GHOST IN HAMLET 469 course of action to be regarded. And if the reader will concede that the data afforded by the text are partly irreconcilable, 1 he will agree that the question at once arises, which of these data are to be considered as bevond question significant. In the opinion of the present writer, critics have hitherto, as a rule, overlooked the peculiar importance, in this connection, to be attributed to the utterances of the ghost. Nowhere have I seen it affirmed that the first step in the inter- pretation of Hamlet is to scrutinize the actions and utterances of the ghost, to note what it does and what it leaves undone, what it says and what it refrains from saying, and to regard the results of such scrutiny as the fundamental data of the play. True, in the course of the con- stant study to which the play has been subjected, the words of the ghost have not escaped notice, and his attitude towards Hamlet and his lan- guage have been cited in evidence of particular views. Thus Mr. Bradley says, with perfect justice {Shakespearean Tragedy, p. 100), " Surely it is clear that, whatever we in the twentieth century may think about Hamlet's duty, we 1 "Again it may be held without any improbability that, from carelessness or because he was engaged on this play for several years, Shakespeare left inconsistencies in his exhibition of the character which must prevent us from being certain of his ultimate meaning." A. C. Bradley, Shake- spearean Tragedy, p. 93. 470 WILLIAM STRTJNK, JR. are meant in the play to assume that he ought to have obeyed the Ghost;" and again (p. 139), "We construe the Ghost's interpretation of Hamlet's delay ('almost blunted purpose') as the truth, the dramatist's own interpretation." Dr. Francis Maurice Egan's essay (The Ghost in Hamlet, 1906) stands by itself as a discrimi- nating study in which the ghost is constantly kept in the foreground. The distinction, how- ever, which Dr. Egan draws between the exalted mission of the ghost, seeking only the salvation of Denmark and the preservation of his royal line, and Hamlet's sinful eagerness to exact vengeance by returning evil for evil, is one which I have difficulty in reading into the play. Still less can I see in this the chief concern of the play, and the cause of Hamlet's failure. The play of Hamlet is characterized not merely by the presence of a supernatural being among its persons, but by the actual participation of this supernatural being in the action. 2 Unlike the ghost of Andrea in The Spanish Tragedie, a mere spectator of the mortal struggle in which his enemies perish, the ghost of Hamlet's father concerns himself practically in the scheme 2 I am taking it for granted, in this paper, that the ghost is intended by Shakespeare as a genuine apparition, and not as a hallucination. This is so apparent that Professor Stoll (The Objectivity of the Ghosts in Shakespeare, Publications of the Modern Language Association of America, N.S. xv. 203) regards it as a point not calling for demonstration. The opposite opinion has been maintained with great ingenuity THE GHOST IN HAMLET 471 of revenge. He communicates to Hamlet infor- mation which could have reached the Prince by no other channel, he demands revenge, pre- scribes in part the conditions of this revenge, and reappears to reprove the instrument of his revenge for lack of zeal. His supernatural quality places his words and actions in a cate- gory by themselves, by reason of which, above and beyond all else to be found in the play, they enable us to determine the dramatist's underlying conceptions of situation and charac- ter. I purpose justifying this view, and then pointing out some of the obvious consequences, if we apply it as a working principle. Whether or not infallibility can be attributed to the ghost, it cannot be attributed to the mortal characters of the play. Students of the play cannot agree whether certain speeches (as, "He weeps for what is done," iv. i. 27) are to be taken as truth or falsehood; whether certain of Hamlet's doubts and hesitations (as his doubt of the genuineness of the ghost, n. ii. 628; his fear of sending his uncle to heaven, in. iii. 74) are real or feigned or the result of self-deception. In the utterances of the char- by N. R. D'Alfonso (Lo Spettro dell' Amleto, Rivista Ita- liana di Filosofia, anno viii, i. 358), but his analysis simply confirms in detail what Lessing had long since pointed out in a general way (Hamburgische Dramaturgie xi), namely, that the circumstances of the ghost's appearance are in per- fect conformity with the accepted notions of the behavior of ghosts. 472 WILLIAM STRUNK, JR. acters other than the ghost, we meet frequently with conscious deceit (lying and hypocrisy, dissembling and the feigning of madness), self-deception (particularly in the case of Ham- let), and constantly with the limitations arising from fallible judgment, lack of information, or similar causes. Of the human characters, Hora- tio, indeed, displays honesty, sincerity, and common sense, but admirable as he is, there seems to be a general agreement that his more prosaic nature fails to understand that of Ham- let. Further, Horatio is comparatively taci- turn; he largely keeps his opinions to himself. Barring his seeming disapproval of Hamlet's way with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, his tardy remonstrance in the scene at Ophelia's grave, and his attempt to dissuade Hamlet from the fencing-match, Horatio seems to be ready to acquiesce in any opinion or action of Hamlet, once the story of the ghost has been repeated to him. It would be difficult to main- tain that he is intended to be Shakespeare's mouthpiece. None of the human characters in the play sees the action steadily and sees it whole. But do these limitations apply to the ghost, a supernatural being? Is he liable to error, to prejudice? Can he deceive others, or be him- self deceived? The answer is best found by examining Shakespeare's practice with regard to similar beings in other plays. We find that THE GHOST IN HAMLET 473 in Richard III, in Julius Ccesar, in Macbeth, in Cymbeline, in The Winter's Tale (the oracle), the supernatural beings, however diverse their nature, are alike in certain respects. They have sources of information denied to mortals. They are free from the encumbrances of mortal frailty, and so far as they take upon themselves the responsibility of speech and action, they possess virtual infallibility. The fairies of A Midsum- mer-Night's Dream make ludicrous blunders, it is true, and show a plentiful lack of wisdom, but this is a comic phantasy. In The Tempest again, the spirits are not free agents; it is Pro- spero in whom the supernatural power is really centered. But in serious actions Shakespeare regularly represents the utterances of super- natural beings, when they appear on their own initiative, as possessing two characteristics: perfect truth (though the form of the state- ment may be such as to mislead erring mortals), and, so far as the purpose of the speaker is concerned, sufficiency for the end proposed. The ghost, therefore, may be regarded, with- in reasonable limitations, as sharing this infalli- bility. He has passed beyond the possibility of mortal errors of judgment; he has sources of knowledge in which mortals have no part. He returns to earth from purgatory, not from heaven, for that would be incongruous with his demand for revenge; not from hell, for that would be incompatible with Hamlet's duty to 474 WILLIAM STRUNK, JR. obey him. It may be pointed out that he knows the circumstances of his murder, though he was asleep when it was committed. Though there would have been no propriety in making him omniscient and omnipotent, he is, so far as concerns his own aims ; all-sufficient both in knowledge and in judgment. He may have no minute prophetic knowledge of the future, but he knows when intervention is necessary and when he may safely trust Hamlet to attain re- venge without further admonition. So far as his words throw light upon the nature of Ham- let's task, upon Hamlet's character, upon the efficiency with which Hamlet performs his task, they have an authority, and must have been intended by Shakespeare to have an authority, which gives them precedence over all the other data afforded by the play. Like Hamlet, we may say, "It is an honest ghost," and "take the ghost's word for a thousand pound." The words and actions of the ghost in many cases furnish the test by which we may determine the truth or falsity of the indications afforded by the other characters in the play. One qualification must be made. In the at- tempt to attach significance to all that the ghost does and says, we must not overlook the requirements of dramatic structure. I would not argue for a hidden meaning in the circum- stance that instead of appearing in Hamlet's bedchamber shortly after the murder, it waits THE GHOST IN HAMLET 475 nearly two months and then appears first to the guards without the palace. The exposition here is similar to that in Macbeth, the first, second, and fourth scenes of Hamlet fulfilling the same functions as the first three of Macbeth. That the scene in which Hamlet and the ghost meet may make the proper impression, Shakespeare pre- pares for it by scenes in which these two char- acters are separately presented to us. Simi- larly, the ghost's beckoning Hamlet away (i. iv) leads to a demonstration of his courage, part of the preliminary exposition of his charac- ter, and provides a means of temporarily re- moving Horatio and Marcellus, in order that the interest may be concentrated upon the ghost's revelation and upon the manner in which Ham- let receives it. Nor would I lay stress upon the ghost's insistence that Horatio and Marcellus swear upon Hamlet's sword. Mysterious and impressive as the ghostly voice from below sounds in actual performance, its effectiveness is rather theatrical than dramatic. Even Coleridge admitted that "these subterraneous speeches of the ghost are hardly defensible." Coleridge, however, undertook to demonstrate the pro- priety of Hamlet's own share in the scene, and Mr. Bradley (pp. 412-413) gives his reasons for accepting the part taken by the ghost as Shakespearean in spirit, and not merely con- descension to the groundlings. I still believe that in the conduct of this part of the scene, 476 WILLIAM STRUNK, JR. Shakespeare did not feel himself free to depart widely from his original. The four speeches of the ghost beneath the stage, resulting in Ham- let's removal from one side of the stage to the other, have their counterpart in Fratricide Punished (Furness ii. 125-126), and hence, in the opinion of some, were a feature of the pre- Shakespearean version. The issue of secrecy is never again raised. Marcellus is no more heard of, and Horatio is the most loyal of con- fidants. The first oath, "In faith, my lord, not I," was really sufficient. We can, however, see a reason why the ghost should approve of Ham- let's swearing his friends to secrecy: this indi- cates Hamlet's purpose of undertaking the revenge himself and of carrying it out with his own hand. But with these minor exceptions, occasioned by the dramatic form and by the established tradition among playgoers, we may look to the words and actions of the ghost as our sole in- fallible guide in interpreting the play. What indications do these afford? The ghost's command to Hamlet is threefold (Ransome, Shakespeare's Plots, p. 12) : If thou didst ever thy dear father love — Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. But howsoever thou pursuest this act, Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught. THE GHOST IN HAMLET 477 In the first place, he demands revenge. Is it too much to say that the mere fact of his de- manding it is significant? Suppose the ghost had merely told Hamlet of the murder, what would have happened? Again, the ghost does not demand immediate revenge, nor does he specify the form. The act may be pursued as Hamlet thinks best. And to Shakespeare's audiences there could be no possible doubt as to the meaning of " revenge." Violent death, at Hamlet's hands, no more and no less, is what the ghost demands. The ingenious theory of Werder, according to which Hamlet's duty was to defer vengeance until he was in a posi- tion to convince all Denmark that it was right- eously taken, finds no support in the ghost's words. As one of Werder's earliest critics, Baumgart (Furness ii. 392-393), pointed out, the ghost says nothing of unmasking the king, of bringing him to the bar of justice: "It is revenge alone that the ghost calls for, and swift revenge that Hamlet promises." The greater part of the fine-spun argument of Wer- der is refuted by this simple consideration. And the chief test to be applied to Hamlet's conduct throughout the play is simply, with what degree of efficiency and fidelity does he devote himself to this sacred duty. The next point in the ghost's command is, "Taint not thy mind." This has, I think, been commonly taken to mean that in pursuing his 478 WILLIAM STRUNK, JR. revenge, Hamlet is not to behave unworthily, to blemish his character, or perhaps, that he is not to destroy his good name. As Mr. Ransome puts it (p. 12), "the punishment of the murderer was to be effected in such a way that the pro- priety of Hamlet's conduct in the matter should be evident." According to this interpretation, Hamlet's words (v. ii. 355-356), good Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me, may be taken as uttered in distinct remem- brance of the ghost's injunction. But this interpretation, which seems to lend support to the mistaken view that Hamlet must pub- licly demonstrate his uncle's guilt before taking vengeance upon him, I believe to be in- correct. The words, " Taint not thy mind," are immediately connected with those which follow, "Nor let thy soul contrive against thy mother aught." The reference is to the melan- choly, occasioned by the disgrace of his mother's incestuous marriage, which has already brought Hamlet to the point of meditating suicide (i. ii. 131-132). This melancholy Hamlet is bidden to overcome. "Do not brood over thy griefs; do not yield to melancholy," is the true meaning of the ghost's words. 3 The conjunc- ' This is taking the word "mind" in its most natural and usual sense. The expression, "a tainted mind," would be closely similar to Spenser's expression (Faerie Queene iv. THE GHOST IN HAMLET 479 tion "nor" emphasizes the close connection between this part of the command and that which follows, for it is precisely this brooding upon his mother's conduct that might lead him to seek some means of involving her in her husband's punishment. The view which these words really support is not that of Werder, but that of Mr. Bradley. They also afford another test by which to appraise Hamlet's subsequent conduct. The prohibition of any attempt to punish his mother affords another test of Hamlet's later action, one so easy to apply that nothing further need be said here. The ghost's de- scription of himself as Cut off even in the blossoms of [his] sin, Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd, No reckoning made, but sent to [his] account With all [his] imperfections on [his] head, indicates clearly that Hamlet's belief (in. iii. 73 ff .) in the significance of the last occupation of a man suddenly killed is not meant by Shake- speare to pass as pure folly. More will be said of this later on. I agree also with Mr. Bradley (p. 126) that "the Ghost, in fact, had more i. vii. 4), "her wounded mind," used with reference to Brito- mart, who is in love with Artegall. The mind may be "tainted" by melancholy, just as it may be "wounded" by love. It also seems more likely that the ghost should be concerning himself with a matter of present importance, than with a future contingency. 480 WILLIAM STRUNK, JR. reason than we suppose at first for leaving with Hamlet as his parting injunction the command, 'Remember me/ and for greeting him, on re- appearing, with the command, ' Do not forget.' " Hamlet's conduct from the beginning of the second act is to be examined in the light of the ghost's commands, literally interpreted. His feigning of madness, I should say, may be held to be sanctioned by the ghost's expres- sion, " howsoever thou pursuest this act." But the whole scheme of catching the conscience of the king by means of the play must be pronounced an inexcusable deviation from the path marked out for him. His recognition of the ghost as his father's spirit has been complete. The play is merely a pretext, which enables Hamlet to feel that he is doing something relat- ing to his revenge, and thus to excuse himself for putting off his main task. And the result is not simple postponement, for the play catches the king's conscience in a way that Hamlet had not anticipated, and thereby creates a new obstacle to the attainment of revenge. The king is led to feel remorse and to pray. Hamlet, searching for the king in order that he may kill him, finds him at prayer, and spares his life, in order to avoid the possi- bility of thwarting his vengeance by sending the king to heaven. Hamlet's reasoning, however it may shock modern sensibilities, is not with- out a certain plausibility, and according to the THE GHOST IN HAMLET 481 moral scheme of an Elizabethan revenge-play, would be perfectly justifiable, provided always that Hamlet were acting on his own responsi- bility. But Hamlet is not a free agent, and it should not be his to " reason why." To the objection that the ghost's words, "Cut off even in the blossom of my sin," imply an obligation upon Hamlet to kill his uncle in a moment of sin and thereby ensure his eternal damnation, it may be answered that the ghost had also said, "Howsoever thou pursuest this act," and that in the very next scene the ghost reproves Ham- let for his "blunted purpose," a reproof which it is natural to connect directly with Hamlet's failure to seize this particular opportunity. Further, Shakespeare makes it clear that even by his own principle, Hamlet was wrong in not accepting his chance, for this moment of apparent repentance is precisely the moment in which the king has definitely formulated his situation, and has resolved not to act as becomes a repentant man. The ghost's reappearance should be sufficient evidence that Hamlet's conduct has not been blameless. The repetition of a supernatural command, in Hamlet's case as in that of the prophet Jonah, is proof positive that the person commanded has been remiss. The ghost's words, "I come to whet thy almost blunted purpose," are incompatible with any belief that Hamlet is a "man of action," deferring 482 WILLIAM STRUNK, JR. his revenge only for reasons of necessity. It is to be noted that although the ghost bids Hamlet calm his mother, "O, step between her and her fighting soul," it does not specifi- cally reprove Hamlet for having upbraided her, nor does it repeat the warning, "Taint not thy mind." If the ghost has nothing further to say upon these points, the reason must be that Ham- let is in need of no further exhortation. It is to be noted likewise that the ghost does not for- bid Hamlet's going to England. Now it has been alleged again and again that Hamlet's departure from Denmark seems to imply an abandonment of his purpose; that he should have remained in Elsinore, because only there could his revenge be accomplished. Indeed, it is even urged that this absence from Den- mark, at the critical moment of the return of Laertes, is what alone makes possible the sub- sequent catastrophes: the death of Laertes, of the queen, and of Hamlet himself. But the real causes of these events lie further back, in the sparing of the king at prayer and in the de- lays and hesitations which preceded this. The departure for England is, as it were, linked with dreadful consequences, but it is not their cause. Hamlet's fault is not that he sets out for Eng- land, but that he should have placed himself in a position which made this course necessary. The silence of the ghost should be conclusive. And the necessity of Hamlet's setting out for THE GHOST IN HAMLET 483 England is otherwise apparent. After the killing of Polonius he is placed under guard (iv. iii. 14). His only practical course is that which he actually takes: to leave Denmark quietly with his guards, and to elude them at the first opportunity, once the shores of Den- mark have been left behind. After the third act the ghost does not reappear. The plain inference is that intervention is no longer necessary, that Hamlet's course, reckless as it may seem, particularly to those who wish, like Goethe, to conceive of him as a tender, fragile, or flower-like creature, unfitted to take risks or confront dangers, leads directly to the fulfillment of his task. He feels himself to have the caution, the strength, the resourcefulness, the courage, and the determination to accom- plish his purpose. The time of irresolution and delay is past. His words to Horatio, " The in- terim is mine" (v. ii. 73) are those of a man con- fident of his mastery of the situation. If he holds a blunted foil in one hand, he holds an unbated dagger in the other. He twice refuses the poisoned cup. He is no longer the hesitat- ing and meditative Hamlet of the second and third acts, but a Hamlet who in a school of bitter experience has learned how to overcome his own weaknesses, and has thus fitted himself for the task of overcoming his enemy. The supernatural judgment of the ghost was not at fault. 484 WILLIAM STRUNK, JR. The conclusions resulting from this principle of the virtual infallibility of the ghost are in large part not new. Indeed, any comprehensive dis- cussion of Hamlet's conduct which is wholly new can hardly escape being fantastic. My aim has been to emphasize the importance of the words and actions of the ghost as the necessary point of departure for all interpretation of the play, and within due limits, as the final authority in such interpretation. An examination of these words and actions enables us in large measure to discriminate between the conclusions derived from other data. We are enabled to conclude with certainty that Hamlet essentially is not in madness, but mad in craft; that he is not temperamentally unfit for the task assigned him, but a fit instrument of revenge ; that his task does not include self -justification or the bringing of the king to public ignominy, but is limited to the attainment of vengeance, a task possible to him only when he shall first have succeeded in overcoming his inclination to melancholy and in banishing from his mind his indignation at his mother's frailty. In the sec- ond and third acts we see him fail to carry out the ghost's command, because he has not yet overcome these obstacles. But his efforts at self-mastery have so far availed that the re- appearance of the ghost, aided by his own self- reproaches, makes it possible for him to advance thenceforward steadily and surely toward the THE GHOST IN HAMLET 485 goal of his revenge. The lives that seem to be needlessly sacrificed, in the last two acts are the price of Hamlet's previous hesitation and delay. For all this, so far as I can interpret the text, we have the authority of the ghost, which, from the nature of the case, is as much as to say, we have Shakespeare's own authority. CONTEMPORARY AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY* BY FRANK THILLY, PH.D., LL.D. Until quite recently philosophy in America has been closely allied with theology. During the colonial days the colleges were practically training schools for the clergy; the presidents and professors were theologians, and the stu- dents entered college in order to prepare them- selves for the ministry. 2 Philosophy was in a great measure the handmaiden of theology, as was the case in the Middle Ages. Indeed, even to this day the great majority of the small- er colleges are denominational, and in such schools philosophy is still subservient to theol- ogy. It is only in the institutions freed from clerical control and particularly in the larger universities that philosophy is taught without a theological bias. It was quite natural that in a colony of Great Britain the influence of British systems of thought should have been the preponderant 1 This article is a revision of a paper which was published in the Revue de Metaphysique el de Morale, September, 1908. 3 Birdsete, Individual Training in American Colleges, 1906. AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 487 one. We find, among the earlier American teachers and writers of philosophy, followers of Locke and Berkeley, as well as, later on, advo- cates of the Scottish systems of Reid and his school. All these movements were spiritualis- tic and antagonistic to scepticism and material- ism. 3 The thinkers, however, who were more or less influenced by Locke and Berkeley, — the greatest among them being Jonathan Ed- wards (|1758), — leaned towards idealism, while those who embraced the Scottish philosophy were common-sense realists. President John Witherspoon, of Princeton College, who came from Scotland in 1768, introduced the Scottish philosophy into the United States, and Prince- ton has remained the center of this school almost down to the present. Dr. James McCosh, President of Princeton University from 1868 to 1888, was doubtless the ablest exponent of the 'common-sense philosophy' in the land of his adoption. Professor A. T. Ormond, of Princeton, shows the influence of his Scotch predecessor in his writings, but endeavors to reconcile the teachings of his master with the theories of Kant and Lotze. 4 A reaction against these prevailing currents of thought appeared in so-called Boston Tran- 4 A materialistic movement, however, sprang up among a large class of scientists outside of the colleges. Cf . Riley, American Philosophy. The Early Schools, 1907. 4 Basal Concepts in Philosophy, 1894; Foundations of Knowl- edge, 1900; Concepts of Philosophy, 1906. 488 FRANK THILLY scendentalism, the leaders of which were W. E. Channing (1780-1843) and Ralph Waldo Emer- son (1803-1882). 5 The movement was idealistic in character; for it mind was the only reality and everything else manifestation of spirit. In the individualistic idealism of Emerson this notion received its most eloquent ethical application and exercised a most salutary influ- ence upon the spiritual life of the new country. This popular form of idealism received its nour- ishment from the critical philosophy of Kant; not directly however, but partly through the writings of the English poet Coleridge, partly through the works of the French philosopher Cousin, many of which had been translated into English during the second and third decades of the nineteenth century. The interest in German speculative philosophy became especi- ally strong, and led in time to a direct study of the works of Kant, Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. Dr. W. T. Harris (11909), of St. Louis, in 1867 founded The Journal of Speculative Philosophy, in which were published many translations from the writings of Fichte, Schel- ling, and Hegel, and which continued to appear until the beginning of the nineties. A further impetus was given to the study of speculative philosophy by the founding of the Concord 6 Frotuingham, History of Transcendentalism in New England, 1876; Goddard, Studies in New England Tran- scendentalism, 1908. AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 489 School of Philosophy, in 1879, by A. Bronson Alcott 6 (fl888). During the summer, meetings extending over a period of several weeks were held at Concord, Massachusetts, and lectures on philosophy, literature, and art delivered by leading thinkers, among them being Dr. Harris, President Noah Porter, Professors George S. Morris, John Watson, and G. H. Howison. Another manifestation of the trend towards idealism was the publication of the German Philosophical Classics under the editorship of Professor Morris, a series which began to appear in 1881 and embraced the following books: Kant's Critique of Pure Reason, by G. S. Morris; Schelling's Transcendental Idealism, by John Watson; Fichte's Science of Knowledge, by C. C. Everett; HegeVs Aesthetics, by J. S. Kedney; Kant's Ethics, by Noah Porter; HegeVs Philos- ophy of State and Philosophy of History, by G. S. Morris; Leibniz's New Essays concerning the Human Understanding, by John Dewey; and Hegel's Logic, by W. T. Harris. 7 Although American Transcendentalism has had very little direct influence upon the present generation of philosophical students in the United States, it did encourage and help to keep 6 Sanborn and Harris, Life and Philosophy of A. Bronson Alcott, 1893. 7 A bibliography of the history of American philosophy is given in the tenth edition of Ueberweg-Heinze's Grund- riss dei- Geschichte der Philosophic, Vierter Teil, §63. 490 FRANK THILLY alive an interest in speculation and especially in idealism, in a country whose tendencies are so largely practical. The greatest influence exercised upon teachers and writers of philos- ophy from the idealistic side has come from the English Neo-Hegelians, Thomas Hill Green, the two Cairds, Bosanquet, and Bradley, as well as from the renewed study of the German post-Kantians in the light of their English interpreters. Among the representatives of this modern type of objective idealism, we may mention Professors John Watson, 8 of Queen's College, Canada; Josiah Royce, of Harvard University; J. E. Creighton, 9 W. A. Hammond, 10 and Ernest Albee, 11 of Cornell University; John 8 Recent works of Watson are : Hedonistic Theories from Aristippus to Spencer, 1895; Christianity and Idealism, 1897; An Outline of Philosophy, 1898; The Philosophy of Kant Ex- plained, 1908; The Philosophical Basis of Religion, 1909. 3 Introductory Logic, 2d ed., 1909. See Creighton's articles in The Philosophical Review, of which he is the editor : "The Nature of Intellectual Synthesis," vol. vi; "The Standpoint of Experience," vol. xii; "Purpose as Logical Category," vol. xiii; "Thought and Experience," vol. xv; "The Nature and Criterion of Truth," vol. xvii. 10 Translator of Aristotle's Psychology and the Char- acters of Theophrastus, and author of articles and reviews on Greek and medieval philosophy. See his article on "Logic" in Congress of Arts and Sciences, vol. i, 1905. 11 A History of English Utilitarianism,, 1902. See his articles in Phil. Review: "The Significance of Methodo- logical Principles," vol. xv, no. 3; "Descriptive and Nor- mative Sciences," vol. xvi, no. 2; and "The Present Meaning of Idealism," vol. xviii, no. 3. AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 491 Grier Hibben, 12 of Princeton University; A. K. Rogers, 13 of Missouri University; J. A. Leighton, 14 of Ohio State University; Mary W. Calkins, 15 of Wellesley College; and Ellen B. Talbot, 16 of Mt. Holyoke College. Dr. W. T. Harris, 17 formerly United States Commissioner of Education, who for more than fifty years advocated the cause of Hegelianism in America, shows a greater dependence upon the German masters than any of his younger contemporaries. Professor Hugo Miinsterberg, 18 of Harvard 12 Inductive Logic, 1896; The Problems of Philosophy, 1898; Hegel's Logic, 1902; Logic, Deductive and Inductive, 1905; The Philosophy of the Enlightenment, 1910. See the articles "The Test of Pragmatism," Phil. Review, vol. xvii, no. 4; and "The Philosophical Aspects of Evolution," Phil. Rev., vol. xix, no. 2. 15 Introduction to Modern Philosophy, 1899; A Student's History of Philosophy, 1901 ; The Religious Conception of the World, 1907. See articles in Phil. Review, especially: "Pro- fessor James's Theory of Knowledge," vol. xv, no. 6; "Ra- tionality and Belief," vol. xiii, no. 1; "Scepticism," vol. xiii, no. 6. 14 Typical Modern Conceptions of God, 1901. See the ar- ticles in Phil. Review: "The Psychological Self and the Ac- tual Personality," vol. xiv, no. 6; "The Objects of Knowl- edge," vol. xvi, no. 6; "The Final Ground of Knowledge," vol. xvii, no. 4; "Perception and Physical Reality," vol. xix, no. 1. 15 Persistent Problems of Philosophy, 1907; An Introduc- tion to Psychology, 1901. 16 The Fundamental Principle of Fichte's Philosophy, 1906. 17 Hegel's Logic, 1890; Introduction to Philosophy, 1890; Psychologic Foundations of Education, 1898. Dr. Harris was also the editor of The International Education Series. 18 Grundziige der Psychologic, vol. i, 1900; Psychology and 492 FRANK THILLY University, belongs to the neo-Fichtean school of thinkers represented in Germany, his native land, by Eucken, Windelband, and Rickert. Professor G. H. Howison, 19 of the University of California, adopts the Hegelian method, but teaches a system of personal idealism. His success in arousing an interest in specula- tion on the Pacific coast, and in attracting able young men to the study of philosophy, has been great. Among well-known pupils, who have also studied with James and Royce, we may mention Professors C. M. Blakewell, 20 of Yale University, and A. O. Lovejoy, 21 of the Johns Hopkins University. Professor G. T. Ladd, 22 of Yale University, Life, 1899; Science and Idealism, 1906; Philosophic der Werte, 1908; The Eternal Values, 1909; Psychology and the Teacher, 1909. 19 The Limits of Evolution and Other Essays, 1901. See also the article in Congress of Arts and Sciences, vol. i, 1905: "Philosophy: Its Fundamental Conceptions and its Meth- ods." 20 Source Book in Ancient Philosophy, 1907. See the art- icles in Phil. Review : "The Ugly Infinite and the Good-for- Nothing Absolute," vol. xvi, no. 2; "On the Meaning of Truth," vol. xvii, no. 6; "Idealism and Realism," vol. xviii, no. 5. 21 "The Thirteen Pragmatisms," Journal of Philosophy, Psychology, and Scientific Methods, vol. v, nos. 1 and 2; "Pragmatism and Realism," ibid., vi, no. 21; "The Obso- lescence of the Eternal," Phil. Rev., vol. xviii, no. 5. 22 Elements of Physiological Psychology, 1887; Introduction to Philosophy, 1890; Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, 1894; The Philosophy of Mind, 1895; The Philosophy of Knowl- edge, 1897; A Theory of Reality, 1899; The Philosophy of Con- AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 493 who has produced many works of scholarly character in the different branches of philos- ophy, betrays the influence of Lotze and may be reckoned among the representatives of a later German idealism. There are, according to him, two beings, mind and body. But dual- ism is not the ultimate solution of the prob- lem; nature and body and mind cannot be left by rational mind itself in this condition of sepa- rateness; this dualism must be dissolved in some ultimate monistic solution. The Being of the World, of which all particular beings are but parts, must then be so conceived of as that in it can be found the One Ground of all interrelated existences and activities. This one principle is an Other and an Absolute Mind. Professor B. P. Bowne 23 CJ1910), of Boston University, is also a pupil of Lotze. Professor C. A. Strong, 24 of Columbia University, presents a system of idealistic monism like Fechner's which does not differ from that set forth in Friedrich Paulsen's Einleitung in die Philosophie. Professor W. T. Marvin, 25 of Princeton University, who defines duct, 1902; The Philosophy of Religion, 1906; Knowledge, Life, and Reality, 1909. The summary of Ladd's theory, given above, is taken from his Philosophy of Mind. 23 The Philosophy of Herbert Spencer, 1874; Metaphysics, 1882; Introduction to Psychological Theory, 1886; Philosophy of Theism, 1887; Principles of Ethics, 1892; Theory of Thought and Knowledge, 1897; Theism, 1902. 24 Why the Mind has a Body, 1903. 25 Introduction to Systematic Philosophy, 1903. 494 FRANK THILLY his standpoint as rationalistic idealism, has been influenced by recent German thought as represented by Benno Erdmann. President J. G. Schurman, 26 of Cornell University, who founded The Philosophical Review and estab- lished the Sage School of Philosophy, one of the centers of philosophical study in the United States, has made valuable contributions to the study of Kantian philosophy. The leading figure in the idealistic school, and perhaps the most thorough student of the history of philosophy in the country, is Josiah Royce. He has written many books which give evidence not only of broad scholarship and spec- ulative capacity, but also of fine literary ability and taste. 27 Our world of common sense, says Royce, has no fact in it which we cannot interpret in terms of ideas, so that this world is throughout such stuff as ideas are made of. All the reality that we can attribute to our world, in so far as we know and can tell what we mean thereby, becomes an ideal. There is, in fact, a certain 28 Kantian Ethics and the Ethics of Evolution, 1881; The Ethical Import of Darwinism, 1888 ; Belief in God, 1890; Ag- nosticism and Religion, 1896. 27 Among them may be mentioned : The Religious Aspects of Philosophy, 1885; The Spirit of Modern Philosophy, 1892; The Conception of God, 1897; Studies of Good and Evil, 1898; The World and the Individual, 2 vols., 1900, 1901; Outlines of Psychology, 1902; Herbert Spencer, 1904; and The Philosophy of Loyalty. 1908. AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 495 system of ideas forced upon us by experience, which we have to use as the guide for our con- duct. We call it the world of matter. But is there not something yonder that corresponds in fact to this series of experiences in us? Yes, but it is itself a system of ideas outside of our minds but not outside of every mind. If my world yonder is anything knowable at all, it must be in and for itself essentially a mental world. It exists in and for a standard, an uni- versal mind, whose system of ideas simply constitutes the world. Minds I can understand because I am myself a mind. An existence that has no mental attribute is to me wholly opaque. Either a mind yonder or else the unknowable, that is your choice. But nothing absolutely unknowable can exist ; the notion of it is non- sense. Everything knowable is an idea, the content of some mind. If capable of being known by a mind, this essence is then already essentially ideal and mental. The real world must be a mind or a group of minds. But how do I ever reach those ideas of the minds beyond me? In one sense you never do or can get beyond your own ideas, nor ought you to wish to do so, because all those other minds that constitute your outer and real world are in essence one with your own self. The whole world is essentially one world, and so it is essentially the world of one self and That art Thou. The self that means the object is iden- 496 FRANK THILLY tical with the larger self that possesses the ob- ject, just as when you seek a lost idea. This deeper self is the self that knows in unity all truth. There is then but one self, organically, reflectively, consciously inclusive of all selves, and so of all truth. It is the Logos, problem- solver, all-knower. Absolutely the only thing sure from the first about this world is that it is intelligent, rational, orderly, essentially com- prehensible, so that all its problems are some- how solved, all its darkest mysteries are known to the Supreme Self. This Self infinitely and reflectively transcends our consciousness, and, therefore, since it includes us, it is at the very least a person, and more definitely conscious than we are; for what it possesses is self-reflect- ing knowledge, and what is knowledge aware of itself, but consciousness? The natural and spiritual orders, the physical and the moral orders, the divine and the human, the fatal and the free, may, according to Royce, be recon- ciled on Kant's doctrine of the transcendental or extra-temporal freedom and the temporal necessity of all our actions. This account of Royce's philosophy is taken from his Spirit of Modern Philosophy. In his large systematic work, The World and the In- dividual, the theory is worked out with great detail and applied to the interpretation of the facts of nature and of man. Partly owing to the nature of the problems with which he is AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 497 dealing, and partly, perhaps, in order to ward off the criticism of exaggerating the intellectu- alistic element, Royce places greater emphasis upon the volitional and purposive side of ex- perience in these later volumes than in the ear- lier presentations of his views. "To be means simply to express, to embody the complete in- ternal meaning of a certain absolute system of ideas, — a system, moreover, which is genuinely implied in the true internal meaning or purpose of every finite form of the idea, however fragmen- tary." The final form of the idea, the "final ob- ject sought when we seek Being, is (1) a complete expression of the internal meaning of the finite idea with which, in any case, we start our quest ; (2) a complete fulfilment of the will or purpose partially embodied in this idea; (3) an individ- ual life for which no other can be substituted." In other words, Royce seeks to escape the charge of intellectualism by emphasizing the active aspect of ideas, and the charge of mysti- cism, by emphasizing the place of the individ- ual self in the absolute self. 28 In his Philosophy of Loyalty, an eloquent pre- sentation of his ethical theory, Royce deduces the idealistic world-view from the basal moral principle, loyalty to loyalty, that is, loyalty to a cause that makes possible the greatest amount of loyalty or devotion to a cause. My causes 28 See also Royce's article, "The Reality of the Temporal," International Journal of Ethics, April, 1910. 498 FRANK THILLY must form a system, they must constitute a single cause, a life of loyalty; they must make universal loyalty possible. Loyalty therefore implies faith in a universal cause, in a highest good, in a highest spiritual value. If this prin- ciple is to have any meaning, if it is no mere illusion, there must be a spiritual unity, a unity in which all values are preserved. The prin- ciple of loyalty is not only a guide of life, it shows us or reveals to us an eternal all-embrac- ing unity of spiritual life, a being that preserves and upholds truth and goodness. We have here a moral argument for the existence of God, similar to that presented in Kant's Critique of Practical Reason. The system we have described is idealistic in the sense that all our knowledge is of ideas; it is monistic in the sense that there is but one principle of reality; it is spiritualistic in the sense that this principle is mind or idea; it is pantheistic in the sense that all ideas and minds are included in one great mind or system of ideas ; it is theistic in the sense that this system is a conscious unity; it is rationalistic in the sense that it assumes categories of thought common to all reason; it is absolutistic in the sense that it sets up an absolute standard of truth. A strong reaction has set in against this school, and philosophy in America to-day is characterized largely by the attacks which are AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 499 being made by different writers upon every one of the positions described above. We get in consequence the movements of realism, imme- diate or radical empiricism, pragmatism, dual- ism, and pluralism, according to the different phases of the idealistic world-view singled out for criticism. One group of thinkers, turning their attention mainly to the question of the nature of knowl- edge, oppose the idealistic teachings with a neo- realistic philosophy. Some of these, like Pro- fessors F. J. E. Woodbridge 29 and W. P. Mon- tague, 30 of Columbia University, and Professor E. B. McGilvary, 31 of the University of Wiscon- sin, have been much influenced by the teachings 29 "The Field of Logic," published in Congress of Arts and Sciences, vol. i, 1905; also in Science, vol. xx, p. 587; "The Problem of Consciousness," in Studies in Philosophy and Psychology (the Garman volume), 190G; "Consciousness, the Sense Organs, and the Nervous System," Journal of Phil- osophy, Psychology, and Scientific Methods (of which W. is the editor), vol. vi, p. 449; "Perception and Epistemology," in Essays Philosophical and Psychological (the James vol- ume), 1908. 30 "Contemporary Realism and the Problems of Percep- tion;" "Current Misconceptions of Realism," Journal of Philosophy, vol. iv, 374, 100; "Consciousness a Form of Energy," in the James volume, 1908; "May a Realist be a Pragmatist?" J. of Phil., vol. vi, pp. 460, 485, 543, 561. 31 "Pure Experience and Reality," Phil. Review, vol. xvi, no. 3; "The Stream of Consciousness;" "Prolegomena to a Tentative Realism;" "The Physiological Argument against Realism;" "Realism and the Physical World;" all in vol. iv of J. of Phil, pp. 225, 449, 589, 683; "Experience and its Inner Duplicity," J. of Phil., vol. vi, p. 225. 500 FRANK THILLY of natural science and the doctrine of evolu- tion. They direct their attacks mainly against the phenomenalistic and spiritualistic phases of idealism, and emphasize the reality and pri- macy of the surrounding world. According to Woodbridge natural science has steadily tended to decrease the importance of man and his philosophizing about the world. In evolution there is no mind as an end-term whose relations eventuate in consciousness. There are rather processes of various sorts undergoing continual reorganization until, at last, they become con- scious and understand the conditions out of which they grew, learn their own history and genesis, and thus awake to the conviction that consciousness is not something original, but derived. How does the question, "How does the mind know the world?" have significance when you are asking the question, "How does the world evolve to consciousness of itself?" The more clearly the concepts of evolution are understood, the more impossible the traditional idealistic approach to philosophy appears to be. Consciousness is not an end-term in a rela- tion, but a relation itself. A conscious inquiry into what we may be conscious of exhibits a great variety of things grouped in various ways and having various relations to one another. Some general types of relation stand out more prom- inently than others, e.g., spatial and temporal relations. These relations hold things together. AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 501 But a thing may suggest another thing, it may mean the other thing without encompassing the distance, so that the relation of meaning is just as much a relation between things as is space and time. The relations of meaning are capable of remarkable systematization, synthesis, con- densation, and unification, and this takes place apparently without any corresponding change in the other relations which subsist. Here we find the motive, so prominent in philosophy, for making meanings immaterial; some of the relations make possible a material synthesis of things, while one of the relations makes possible an immaterial synthesis. Consciousness then is a relation of meaning. The character of "awareness" which is ascribed to consciousness is nothing but the manifold and irresistible meaning-connections which the things in the conscious situation have. Reality as known is to be set over against reality un- known or independent of knowledge, not as image to original, idea to thing, phenomena to noumena; but reality as known is a new stage in the development of reality itself. It is not an external mind which knows reality by means of its own ideas, but reality itself becomes known through its own expanding and readjust- ing processes. The addition of knowledge to a reality hitherto without it, is simply an addition to it and not a transformation of it. The things are not ideas representing other things outside 502 FRANK THILLY of consciousness, but real things, which, by being in consciousness, have the capacity of representing each other, of standing for or imply- ing each other. This view bases itself upon an evolutionistic metaphysics. We may define it as a dogmatic realism. It assumes a real world and it assumes that we can know that real world. But knowl- edge is not, as for the old realism, a copy or representation of the real world; the object of vision, for example, is not a modification of consciousness, but the real thing; in conscious- ness reality becomes directly known. The world out there is the true reality, consciousness is a phase in its development which adds no quality to it by arising. "Add consciousness to the world of science, and then meaning is added, but nothing else." But what is this conscious- ness? Woodbridge's answer is, as yet, vague, indefinite, and obscure. Unwilling to regard it as a thing, unwilling also to conceive it as a relating activity, and yet unable to ignore it, he calls it a relation between things. Just what this phrase means it is hard to discover; it re- minds one ol the Pythagorean doctrine of num- ber. What Woodbridge ought to say and what his descriptions really suggest is that conscious- ness relates things, means things, that things mean other things to consciousness. Another difficulty that confronts him and of which he is aware, but which he does not succeed in remov- AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 503 ing, follows from his attempt to restrict all qualities to his real world. In adding conscious- ness do we not also add feelings and secondary qualities, not to speak of volitions and images and concepts? Meaning is something more than a mere relation between things, and conscious- ness is more than a relation of meaning. Other realists, like Professors A. E. Taylor, 32 formerly of McGill University, Montreal, now of St. Andrews, Scotland, and Norman Smith, 33 of Princeton University, while rejecting sub- jective idealism and holding that we become directly aware of reality as it is, in knowledge, are unwilling to reduce thinking to an " effect, a product, possibly a structure, like digesting and blossoming," as Woodbridge feels inclined to do. In them the reaction against idealism does not reach the point of degrading conscious- ness to an intermittent phase in the process of evolution. According to Taylor the real Coper- nican revolution in philosophy has been made by Avenarius rather than by Kant. The start- ing-point for a theory of knowledge, he says, is not the existence of stimuli, but the existence 12 The Problem of Conduct, 1901 ; Elements of Metaphysics, 1903; Plato, 1908. 33 Studies in Cartesian Philosophy, 1902. See his article in Phil. Review, vol. xvii, no. 2: "Subjectivism and Realism in Modern Philosophy." — Professor G. S. Fullerton, of Col- umbia University, is an empirical realist of the pre-Kantian type. See his System of Metaphysics, 1904, and Introduc- tion to Philosophy. 504 FRANK THILLY of a multitude of apprehended objects, colors, tones, bodies, concepts, feelings, emotions, vo- litions, etc. On inspection this aggregate is found to fall into two minor mutually exclusive aggregates, that of 'mental' states or processes, and that of extra-mental things. The peculiar characteristic of the members of the mental aggregate is that any proposition asserting their existence can be replaced, without change of meaning, by one which asserts a predicate of the knowing subject itself. This is not true of the aggregate of the extra-mental. When I experience blue, it is not I who am blue, but some presented object other than the expe- riencing T. Now the extra-mental, as thus defined, includes not only bodies and their per- ceived qualities, but all so-called ' mental images/ 'ideas,' 'concepts.' None of these are what they have too often been called, 'states of mind;' their predicates are fundamentally different from those of the processes in which they are apprehended. They are, in fact, objects ex- perienced, not processes of experiencing. What, then, are the mental processes involved in cog- nition? The sole ultimate cognitive process of which we know is belief, or judgment, and it is of processes of judging, not of 'ideas,' that knowledge is built up. Perception is, e.g., prop- erly, simply the assertion of an existential prop- osition which includes in its meaning a refer- ence to present time and to a determinate region AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 505 of space. The cognitive process thus takes its place by the side of the other forms of the Yes- No attitude of mind towards its objects, which it is the function of psychology to study. There is no reason to believe in the existence of any simpler or more ultimate mental processes cor- responding directly to the action of stimuli on the organs. To know is not to put extra-mental things into certain relations, but to affirm that they are so related. Two general corollaries may be ap- pended. (1) A sound philosophy has to start with concessions both to dualism and to plural- ism. Both the contrast between the I-element and the extra-mental elements in the world of the experienced, and the plurality of I-ele- ments, or knowers, appear among its data, and cannot be simply suppressed in its result. The real difficulty is not to see how there can be a reality 'behind' 'phenomena/ but how any ele- ment in the real presented world can be mere 'appearance.' (2) Of existing doctrines that which approximates most closely to the truth is probably the monadism of Leibniz, though it is clear that some of the logical postulates of monadism must be false, since they lead 1 o the view that the physical world is made up of dis- tinct and independent causal series, and there is good reason to regard this conclusion as untrue. 34 34 This account of Taylor's theory is his own summary of a paper read at the Cornell meeting of the American Philo- 506 FRANK THILLY These neo-realistic writers are mainly opposed to the phenomenalistic teachings of idealism. Another group of thinkers direct their attacks against the idealistic criterion of knowledge, and set up a practical standard of truth. The chief representatives of this school, which has a large following and goes by the name of pragmatism, are Professor William James, 35 of Harvard Uni- versity, and Professor John Dewey, of Columbia University. Professor James is a thinker of ori- ginal insight, particularly in the field of psychol- ogy, a brilliant writer, and a teacher of great personal charm. Although his philosophical theories have met with lively opposition, he has succeeded in arousing an enthusiastic inter- est in the study of philosophy among a wide circle of educated Americans. He occupies a central position in modern American thought, and nearly all our philosophical writers find it necessary to try conclusions with him. 36 I sophical Association in 1907. See "Report of Proceed- ings," Phil. Review, vol. xvii, no. 2. 35 The Principles of Psychology, 2 vols., 1890 ;The Will to Believe and Other Essays, 1897; Human Immortality, 1898; Talks to Teachers on Psychology, 1899; The Varieties of Re- ligious Experience, 1902; Pragmatism: A New Name for Some Old Ways of Thinking, 1907; A Pluralistic Universe, 1909; The Meaning of Truth: A Sequel to Pragmatism, 1909. 36 The philosophical periodicals of this country and Eu- rope have been full of articles and reviews supporting and attacking the 'new philosophy,' and a number of books have been written on the subject, among them two by American professors: Pratt, What is Pragmatism? and Schinz, Anti- Pragmatism. See my articles on "Philosophy" in the New International Year Book of 1908 and 1909. AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 507 shall present his views as expressed in his book on Pragmatism. Truth in science, he declares, is what gives us the maximum possible sum of satisfactions, taste included, but consistency both with pre- vious truth and novel fact is always the most imperious claimant. The 'true' is only the expedient in the way of our thinking just as the right is only the expedient in the way of our behaving. Expedient in almost any fashion; and expedient in the long run and on the whole of course; for what meets expediently all the ex- perience in sight won't necessarily meet all farther experience equally satisfactorily. The first part of reality is the flux of our sensations. Sensations are forced upon us coming we know not whence. Over their nature, order, and quantity we have as good as no control. They are neither true nor false; they simply are. The second part of reality is the relations that obtain between our sensations or between their copies in our minds. There are relations that are mutable and accidental, as those of date and place; and those that are fixed and essential be- cause they are grounded on the inner nature of their terms. Both sets of relations are mat- ters of immediate perception. Both are 'facts.' But the inner relations are 'eternal,' are per- ceived whenever their sensible terms are com- pared; and of them our thought must eternally take account. The third part of reality is the 508 FRANK THILLY previous truths of which every new inquiry takes account. We have a certain freedom in our dealing with these realities. That they are is beyond our control; but which we attend to, note, and make emphatic in our conclusions depends on our interests. Both the sensational and relational parts of reality are dumb; they say absolutely nothing about themselves. We it is who have to speak for them. When we speak of reality 'independent' of human think- ing, it seems a thing very hard to find. It re- duces to the notion of what is just entering into experience and yet to be named, or else to some imagined aboriginal presence in experience, be- fore any belief about the presence had arisen, before any human conception had been applied. It is what is absolutely dumb and evanescent, the merely ideal limit of our minds. The stub- born fact remains that there is a sensible flux, but what is true of it seems from first to last largely a matter of our own creation. On the pragmatist side we have only one edition of the universe, unfinished, growing in all sorts of places, especially in the places where thinking beings are at work. On the rationalistic side we have a universe in many editions, one real one, the infinite folio, or edition de luxe, eternally complete; and then the various finite editions, full of false readings, distorted and mutilated, each in its own way. Behind the bare phenom- enal facts there is nothing. When a rationalist AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 509 insists that behind the facts there is the ground of the facts, the possibility of the facts, he takes the mere name and nature of a fact and claps it behind the fact as a duplicate entity to make it possible. Can we treat the absolute edition of the world as a legitimate hypothesis? If the notion of a world ante rem, whether taken abstractly like the word winter, or concretely as the hypothe- sis of an Absolute, can be shown to have any consequences whatever for our life, it has a meaning. If the meaning works, it will have some truth that ought to be held to through all possible reformulations, for pragmatism. The absolutistic hypothesis, that perfection is eternal, aboriginal, and most real, has a per- fectly definite meaning, and it works religiously. But the pluralistic way agrees with the prag- matic temper best. The world is pluralistically constituted, it really exists distributively and is made up of a lot of eaches ; it can only be saved piece-meal and de facto as the result of their behavior. Countless human imaginations live in this moralistic and epic kind of universe, and find its disseminated and strung-along successes sufficient for their rational needs. On prag- matic principles, if the hypothesis of God works satisfactorily in the widest sense of the word, it is true. Experience shows that it certainly does work. The problem is to build it out and determine it so that it will combine satisfac- 510 FRANK THILLY torily with all the other working truths. James firmly disbelieves that our human experience is the highest form of experience extant in the universe. We may well believe, he declares, on the proofs that religious experience affords, that higher powers exist and are at work to save the world on ideal lines similar to our own. Pragmatism can be called religious, if you allow that religion can be pluralistic or merely melior- istic in type. But pragmatism has to post- pone dogmatic answer, for we do not yet know certainly which type of religion is going to work best in the long run. There is much in this philosophy of James that reminds one of idealism. The starting point of our knowledge is the flux of our sensa- tions, a sensible flux, the stuff that is furnished us in the instant field of the present, the abso- lutely dumb and evanescent, the merely ideal limit of our minds. This is called pure expe- rience; over its nature, order, and quantity we have no control; whence it comes we know not, but we are told that behind the bare phenomenal facts there is nothing. All this sounds like an overture to subjective idealism. This is not all, however. There are also relations between these sensations, both accidental and eternal relations between these aboriginal elements of our experience; that is, the sensible flux is an ordered and related flux, and not a chaotic expe- rience. Then again there are also relations be- AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 511 tween the copies of these sensations in our minds. But both the sensational and relational parts of reality are dumb ; they say absolutely nothing about themselves. At the same time the re- lations are matters of immediate perception, they are facts, and the inner or eternal rela- tions are perceived whenever their sensible terms are compared. In other words, we seem to know the relations and know them as they are. There is a given reality which we can know as it is, in its eternal relations. That certainly smacks of objective idealism. But we are not done yet. Relations among purely mental ideas, James goes on to tell us, form another sphere where true and false beliefs obtain, and here the be- liefs are absolute or unconditional. Truth here has an eternal character. Our ready-made ideal frame work for all sorts of possible ob- jects follows from the very structure of our thinking. We can no more play fast and loose with these abstract relations than we can do so with our sense experience. They coerce us, we must treat them consistently, whether or not we like the results. Our ideas must agree with realities, be such realities concrete or abstract. Here we come pretty close to the a priori categories of the rationalists, and our suspicions are increased when we read in James's articles that these principles are "now a part of the very structure of our mind" and that they have been "long ago wrought into the struc- ture of our consciousness." 512 FRANK THILLY In the face of all these statements the prag- matic element in James's philosophy sounds innocent enough, though it may not always be consistent with them. Though "the stubborn fact remains that there is a sensible flux, but what is true of it seems from first to last to be largely a matter of our own creation," and though "the world stands really malleable, waiting to receive its final touches at our hands," we can- not play fast and loose with it; there seems to be something absolute about it, and there seems to be something absolute about oar own con- tribution to it. It is true, James also sets up expediency as the test of truth, but the doctrine loses its force when taken in connection with all that has gone before. Besides, to be true a truth must not only work, it must be consistent both with previous truth and novel fact. Truth must hang together, it must form a system. "It works because it is true and it is true because it works." Here too James appears to abandon the strictly pragmatic position, or at least to supplement it. In his book on The Meaning of Truth, which is for the most part a collection of articles published before, James explains the charge of 'subjectism' as a misunderstanding ot his critics, and declares himself to be an episte- mological realist. "My account of truth is realistic," he says, "and follows the episte- mological dualism of common sense." "This AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 513 notion of a reality independent of either of us [you or me], taken from ordinary social expe- rience, lies at the base of the pragmatist defini- tion of truth." "If the reality assumed were cancelled from the pragmatist 's universe of discourse, he would straightway give the name of falsehoods to the beliefs remaining, in spite of all their satis factoriness. For him, as for his critic, there can be no truth if there is noth- ing to be true about. Ideas are so much flat psychological surface unless some mirrored matter gives them cognitive lustre. This is why as a pragmatist I have carefully posited 'reality ' ab initio and why, throughout my whole discussion, I remain an epistemological real- ist. " It is not always made perfectly clear, however, in James's account, just what is meant by 'reality;' in the sense that there can be no knowledge without an object about which that knowledge is, every idealist is a realist. Con- fusion has been caused in the minds of our philosopher's critics by their exaggeration of his pragmatic notion of truth and their failure to note that it does not tell the whole story. Our 'satisfactions' can yield objective truth because ' 'the ideas which they accompany 'correspond' to the assumed reality, 'agree' with it, and 'fit' it in perfectly definite and assignable ways', through the sequent trams of thought and action which form their verifica- tion." For this confusion James himself is not 514 FRANK THILLY wholly free from blame; indeed, the very name of 'pragmatism, and the undue emphasis laid upon the 'cash- value' of truth are responsible for many misunderstandings. In Pragmatism, James's main problem is the criterion of knowledge; in The Meaning of Truth, it is the nature or meaning of knowledge ; in A Pluralistic Universe, it is the methods and results of knowledge. In each work he attacks what he conceives to be the teaching of idealism and offers his own solution of the basal prob- lems : he is a pragmatist, a realist, a radical em- piricist, and a pluralist. The last-named book repudiates the aprioristic or rationalistic meth- ods and monistic conclusions of the idealists, and espouses the cause ol "pluralistic empiri- cism," which had already been advocated in Pragmatism. "The line of least resistance, then, as it seems to me, both in theology and philosophy, is to accept, along with the super- human consciousness, the notion that it is not all-embracing, the notion, in other words, that there is a God, but that he is finite, either in power or in knowledge, or in both at once." "Reality may exist in distributive form, in the shape not of an all but of a set of eaches, just as it seems to." This world may be "a uni- verse only strung along, not rounded in and closed." The monistic or absolutistic pantheist holds to the timeless universe eternally com- plete, the pluralistic or empirical pantheist to the unfinished pluralistic universe. AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 515 There is no great difference between James's pragmatism and Dewey's functionalism. Both make practical consequences, usefulness, or satisfaction, or efficiency, the criterion of truth, and both speak in somewhat vague and general terms of this criterion. Dewey, however, em- phasizes the practical origin of thinking and of consciousness in general; thought is useful and owes its existence to its utility, to the fact that it satisfies human needs. But he too be- trays the influence of the idealistic school to which he formerly belonged, by including in this satisfaction an intellectual satisfaction in the harmony or unity of experience. Dewey 37 has been more successful than any other American thinker in gaining a united following for his teachings and forming a philo- sophical 'school.' As professor of philosophy and education in the University of Chicago, from which position he was called to Columbia University in 1904, he exercised a most stimula- ting influence upon his colleagues and students, prominent among whom were : Professors A. W. Moore, 38 G. M. Mead, J. A. Angell (who applies 37 Psychology, 1886; Ethics, 1891; Leibniz's New Essays Concerning Human Understanding, 1886; Studies in Logical Theory, 1903; (with J. H. Tufts) Ethics, 1908; How we Think, 1910; The Influence of Darwin on Philosophy, and Other Essays, 1910. 38 Articles in J. of Phil: "The Function of Thought," vol. iii, p. 519; "Truth Value," vol. v, p. 429; in Phil. Rev.: "Pragmatism and its Critics," vol. xiv, p. 322; "Absolutism and Teleology," vol. xviii, p. 389. 516 FRANK THILLY the functionalistic theory in psychology 39 ), and I. King 40 (who applies it in education and religion). Professor J. H. Tufts, 41 of Chicago, although he has been influenced by the teach- ings of this school, has never definitely committed himself to them, and seems still inclined to idealism. In the Studies in Logical Theory, which appeared in 1903, Dewey and his adher- ents (Miss Thompson, MacLennan, Moore, Ashley, Gore, Stuart) have presented a serious and detailed account of the logical doctrines of the new school. This work is, as Professor Pringle-Pattison has said, a striking evidence of the moulding influence of Professor Dewey upon his pupils and coadjutors in the Chicago School of Philosophy. For Dewey immediate experience is the start- ing point; it is the matrix out of which reflective or logical thinking develops and into which it resolves itself again. Immediate empiricism postulates that things, — anything, everything in the ordinary or non-technical use of the term 'thing/ — are what they are experienced as. Thought is not something pure, absolute, or by itself, — whose occupation is to mirror or 19 Psychology, 1904. *° The Psychology of Child Development, 1903; The Develop- ment of Religion, 1910. a Translator of Windelband's History of Philosophy; author of The Sources and Development of Kant's Teleology, 1892; and (with John Dewey) of Ethics, 1908. AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 517 represent an independently complete and self- existent world of reality, — it is a function among others arising in the course of experience, and has for its sole purpose the transformation, re- construction, or re-organization of experience. Thinking owes its origin to its need, it arises because and when it is needed. Since knowledge appears as a function within experience, and yet passes judgment upon both the processes and contents of other functions, its work and aim must be distinctively reconstructive or trans- formatory. Since reality must be defined in terms of experience, judgment appears accord- ingly as the medium, through which the con- sciously effected evolution of reality goes on. There is no reasonable standard of truth (or of success of the knowing function) in general, ex- cept upon the postulate that reality is dynamic or self-evolving, and, in particular, through ref- erence to the specific offices which knowing is called upon to perform in readjusting and ex- panding the means and ends of life. There is always antecedent to thought an experience of some subject-matter of the physical or social world, or organized intellectual world, whose parts are actively at war with each other, — so much so that they threaten to disrupt the entire experience, which accordingly for its own main- tenance requires deliberate re-definition and re- relation of its tensional parts. The test of 518 FRANK THILLY thought is the harmony or unity of experience actually effected. 42 I stated at the beginning of this account of the different movements in American philo- sophical thought of to-day, that it was largely a reaction against the dominant school of ideal- ism. But it is plain that idealism is still a potent influence with us, that the opponents of the 'old truths' find it hard to drive the re- jected teachings entirely out of their blood. Some of the objections urged against the school are based upon a false conception of latter-day idealism. 43 Nearly all the dissenters interpret it in the sense of subjective idealism: esse is percipi; everything that is perceived is a modi- fication of consciousness. The new realists reject this notion : for them the object perceived is not a modification of consciousness, but the real thing; there is an extra-mental reality, which either becomes directly aware of itself in the course of the process of evolution or of which knowing consciousnesses become aware. With much of this the modern idealist can agree : he too repudiates subjective idealism; for him too there is an extra-mental reality; but this extra-mental, super-individual reality he con- 42 This account of Dewey's theory is drawn from the Studies in Logical Theory. — The Ethics of Dewey and Tufts is a happy synthesis of evolutionism, utilitarianism, and the teachings of Thomas Hill Green. 43 See the article by Professor E. H. Hollands in the Phil. Rev., vol. xvii, no. 5, on "Neo-Realism and Idealism." AMERICAN PHILOSOPHY 519 ceives either, with Hegel and Green, as univer- sal reason, or less definitely, with the younger thinkers, as a system of relations. And he will have no fault to find with the epistemological realism of the pragmatist except in so far as it seems to him to degenerate into sensationalism and subjectivism. He insists against pragmatist and realist alike that ' reality's true shape' is an organized spiritual system; whether he accepts the label or not, he is a metaphysical spiritualis- tic realist. He will not admit the proposition of the pragmatist that "reality if not irrational is at least non-rational in its constitution;" for him it is rational through and through. It is true, the modern idealist is a moniso; but he does not conceive his monism as excluding pluralism, — as witness Green and Royce; — whether it is logically possible or not, he will attempt to have them both. As regards the problems of the origin and method of knowledge, we discover aprioristic and rationalistic elements in both pragmatist s 44 and realists; 45 indeed, we are constantly remind- ed of Kantian philosophy in reading the writings of these men. James, to be sure, tells us 46 that we must go behind the conceptual function 44 See this article, pp. 511 f. 46 See Taylor's paper on "The Relations between Meta- physics and the Other Sciences," in Congress of Arts and Sciences, vol. i, pp. 227-245, and Woodbridge's articles al- ready cited. 46 In A Pluralistic Universe. 520 FRANK THILLY altogether and look to the more primitive flux of + he sensational life for reality's true shape, and that philosophy is more a matter of pas- sionate vision than of logic; but we are told 47 also that truth has an eternal character, that ou v ready-made ideal frame work for all sorts of possible objects follows from the very struc- ture of our thinking; and these are statements taken out of the idealist's own month. As for the pragmatic criterion of knowledge, it has, as I have already pointed out, taken into itself so much of the idealistic conception as to be, indeed, in many respects, only "a new name for some old ways of thinking." 47 In Pragmatism. N \ University of Southern Library