Members of the Association are requested to see that copies of monographs, studies or dissertations in the field of the Modern Languages which may appear in University series during the current year be sent to the editor of the appropriate section of the American Bibliography.

In a study of the Latin, French, and English versions of the allegory of The Four Daughters of God, published some years ago, I found it necessary to include also a description of two Dutch versions in order to account for certain modifications of the allegory in fourteenth and fifteenth century French forms. These arose through the introduction of what Heinzel2 calls the Processus Belial, a suit between the devil and the Virgin which is only settled when the four Virtues enter the debate.

The text printed herewith forms one in a series of nine Miracles of the Virgin which is preserved in MS 375 of the Bibliothèque nationale, folios 344r-346v, a manuscript of the late thirteenth century. It was my original intention to publish the collection as a whole, and Professor J. D. M. Ford kindly offered to print it in the Harvard Romance Series. The MS was submitted in August 1922, but it was afterwards discovered that eight of these miracles had already been printed by H. Kjellman in the Appendix to his Deuxième Collection Anglo-Normande des Miracles de la Sainte Vierge, Paris, 1922, pp. 306 ff.

For the benefit of scholars who may conceive the idea of examining the Vatican collections in the hope of discovering hitherto unsignalled English manuscripts, it may be well to report upon the slender harvest reaped by those who have preceded them. Unfortunately, although the older Vatican catalogues, often incomplete and unreliable as they are, promise rich gleanings to the bold—and patient—the fruits thus far collected in the field of English literature seem hardly worth the labour expended in gathering them.

Current assumptions of scholars in the field indicate little argument against the view of Georg Bondi that the philosophy of the poems of Albrecht von Haller is taken from the philosophy of Shaftesbury. My own examination of the evidence convinces me that this opinion is fallacious. In an effort to indicate the sources of Haller's philosophical poems I shall make a fresh survey of the situation.

In her note appended to Shelley's Mask of Anarchy, Mrs Shelley remarks on the attitude of her husband to the current political theories of the time:

Though Shelley's first eager desire to excite his countrymen to resist openly the oppressions existent during the “good old times” had faded with early youth, still his warmest sympathies were for the people. He was a republican and loved a democracy. He looked on all human beings as inheriting an equal right to possess the dearest privileges of our nature; the necessaries of life when fairly earned by labor, and intellectual instruction. His hatred of any despotism that looked upon the people as not to be consulted, or protected from want and ignorance, was intense … the news of the Manchester Massacre … roused in him violent emotions of indignation and compassion.

Late in 1817, while residing at Great Marlow, Shelley wrote out the fragment known as Prince Athanase, presenting the characteristically Shelleyan hero, imbibing “philosophic wisdom, clear and mild” from an old hermit named Zonoras.

The respectable number of books and articles about Shelley within recent years have concerned themselves mainly with the review of a puzzling personality and an inspiring, if not altogether acceptable “message.” At one of those times, the aftermath of a centennial, when authors may be assayed anew, we have contented ourselves with reaffirming, somewhat indifferently, the opinions of the last seventy-five years. This fact seems to argue that the poet's reputation has become stabilized. Although scholars and critics will no doubt continue to add minutiae, it is probably true that our main body of information and opinions concerning Shelley is definitely fixed, for some time to come. And yet in the case of Shelley's principal poem, Prometheus Unbound, there are considerations which indicate that the generally accepted view needs to be revised. These considerations hardly affect the value or the essential meaning of the poem, but they do fundamentally affect the method by which it is commonly approached.

Of Leigh Hunt's service to Shelley no adequate study has been made. We naturally look for it in Dowden's Life of Shelley (1886) or in Dr. Miller's Leigh Hunt's Relations with Byron, Shelley and Keats (N. Y., 1910). Unfortunately, both of these works contain serious misstatements regarding the Examiner, and Dowden's Life, also, is apparently responsible for the mistaken notion that John Wilson deserves the chief place among Shelley's contemporaries for publicly recognizing his genius. Yet a review of the criticism which appeared during Shelley's lifetime shows that Wilson's appreciation (and that of most other critics, for that matter) was confined to vague and unimportant assertions of Shelley's “genius,” offset by disapprobation of his views on almost every subject he wrote about. Early extravagant views expressed by the poet, although modified later, were not forgotten by adherents of the Establishment and the Crown. His published opinions and the rumors regarding his conduct interfered with general approval of his work as a poet. Leigh Hunt soon saw that the attacks on Shelley were induced chiefly by his misunderstood philosophy and the scandalous stories circulated about his conduct, and accordingly set about explaining his theories and defending his life. But in this effort to defend and interpret Shelley, Hunt in his generation stood practically alone, at least as far as the organs of criticism were concerned.1

It has been the accepted opinion that Keats's first volume received very little attention at the time of its publication in 1817. This is no doubt due to the fact that until recently the only review known was that by Leigh Hunt published in three parts in the Examiner for June 1, July 6, and July 13, 1817. In 1917, Sir Sidney Colvin1 brought to light two others, namely that in the September issue of the Eclectic Review and that in Constable's Scots and Edinburgh Magazine for October, 1817. It has been my good fortune to discover two additional reviews which seem to have been overlooked by students of Keats, although they are apparently the earliest published.

Theodor Fontane's interest in English literature dates back to his boyhood years in Swinemünde. Here he first became familiar with the name of the arch-magician Walter Scott, a favorite with his father and at that time the most brilliant luminary in the literary firmament. Keen admiration for the great Briton the poet retained throughout his life. Clear reflections of this enthusiasm may be discerned in his first novel, the broad historical canvas Vor dem Sturm (1878), and also to a lesser extent in several of his later works.1