It is a somewhat singular fact that although students of our language and literature have been carefully gleaning their chosen fields and leaving scarcely any entirely new theme for investigation, there should remain practically untouched a subject of high interest and æsthetic importance,— I mean the use of color in poetry. To some extent the matter has attracted attention in the study of other literatures than ours. Critics often remark upon the brilliant color-sense of the Celtic poets and of the writers of the Old Norse sagas and poems. Gladstone devoted a long section of his Homeric Studies to the color-epithets in the Iliad and the Odyssey; and a German scholar, with characteristic thoroughness, has made an exhaustive study of the color-words in the entire body of the Latin and Greek classics. But an adequate investigation of the development of the color-sense in English poetry is yet to be written. I know of but one paper that treats the matter in any detail, and that paper is confessedly tentative and leaves the older periods untouched. As for color in Old English poetry, a few words by Professor March and a few more in a very rare paper by Dr. Sweet exhaust about all that has been said on the subject.

When we find an English word beginning with p, we quite properly suspect it of being an adopted word—if not evidently imitative or of nursery origin. For early English words beginning with p there are two chief sources: Latin (including indirectly Greek) and Celtic. If the word appears only in England, it may a priore have come from either of these languages. If it is found both in England and on the continent, it is almost sure to have come from the Latin. Pickle appears both in England and in North Germany, Holland, etc., and we are therefore justified in suspecting a Latin origin for it. It also belongs to the category of words that we know to have been largely drawn from Italy. In the earliest days the Italian traders introduced piper ‘pepper,’ vinum ‘wine,’ acetum ‘essig,’ etc. Later the Germanic peoples owed much of the development of the culinary art among them to the Christian priests and monks from Italy. They were fond of good living, of spices and of sauces. They brought with them from the South seeds and plants, and they raised vegetables and herbs for the table and for the cure of the sick. It is, therefore, but natural that we should suppose that so artificial a product as pickles should have had a similar source. These considerations and a knowledge of the South-German use of pfeffer in senses similar to those of pickle led me to associate pickle with pepper. One kind of pickling suggested that kipper was only another form of the same word.

The main object of this study has been to investigate thoroughly the relations of the Middle English versions of the Seven Sages of Rome.

In the Acta Sanctorum, volume II for February, being volume V of the whole work, under date of February 16th, the assigned date of her martyrdom, we find two lives of St. Juliana, both edited by Bolland himself. One of these lives is by an anonymous author, and is edited from eleven mss., collected by Bolland from various libraries duly specified; and the other is by a certain Peter, a sub-deacon, and is edited from mss. at Naples and at Capua. This Life is dedicated by Peter to an “Egregio Patri Domno Petro sanctae Parthenopensis Ecclesiae optimo Pastori,” at whose request it claims to have been written, and who is identified by Bolland with Peter, Archbishop of Naples, 1094-1111. If this identification is correct, the second Life is much later than the first; and it is written in a much more ornate and elaborate style, frequently interspersed with hexameter verses.

Since the publication, in 1879, of Bechtel's Über die Bezeichnungen der sinnliehen Wahrnehmungen little has been done in this field. In fact, the ground there broken seems to have become fallow again. Perhaps this is because the book is based on a now antiquated phonetic system. But, in the main, the principles there advocated are none the less true, even though many of the etymologies are no longer tenable. This paper is intended, therefore, to rehabilitate these principles and supply some deficiencies.

This passage from Addison, reproduced, in a slightly modified version of the American Dialect Society's alphabet, from a phonetic transcription by Benjamin Franklin himself, may be taken as a sample of Franklin's pronunciation. Angel was more commonly ændgel in the 18th century, and chamber, danger had the same vowel; êndƌel, tʃêmbǝr, dêudƌǝr, according to Noah Webster, were less elegant. The use of ði before consonants as well as vowels is noteworthy, and may be due to carelessness. For tû = to, Franklin also said tō. Bɐzǝm was perfectly good in his day.

In the very exhaustive and thorough account of the Middle English versions of the Seven Sages by Dr. Killis Campbell, which appeared in these Publications, XIV, pp. 37 f., I see that the Bodleian MS. has escaped notice. As I believe that no one has hitherto called attention to this version, it may be worth while to give a brief account of it here. I came across it some years ago whilst working through a number of the Rawlinson MSS. in the Bodleian Library. The MS. in question bears the press mark MS. Rawl. Poet. 175 (New Catalogue 14667) and is a parchment MS. of the middle of the 14th century, The Seven Sages occupying fol. 109-131b. This Rawlinson version is in the Northern dialect and agrees very closely indeed with MS. C (Cotton Galba E. IX); in fact in the portions which I have examined, these two MSS. agree almost word for word, as the following specimen and collations show. To give some idea of the MS. I here append (1) 11. 1-128 in full, (2) the readings from the Rawlinson MS. which differ from MS. C in the Avis story, and (3) the readings from the Rawl. MS. which differ from MS. C in the last portion of the whole (ll. 3913-4002). Contractions are denoted by italics.

The standard Weimar edition of Goethe's works is based upon the final edition of his collected works, Ausgabe letzter Hand, which was published 1827-30, and contained his latest revisions. Forty volumes appeared during his life. As regards the form and appearance of the edition, the editors state that their purpose is to adhere strictly to whatever is known to have had Goethe's personal authorization. “The Ausgabe letzter Hand is his legacy, and he himself regarded it as the conclusion of his life work. With great circumspection, and with a care such as had been employed in the case of no other edition of his writings, he exerted himself for the purity and perfection of this edition. The evidence of his active participation is shown in his correspondence with K. Göttling, to whom he entrusted the examination and correction of his manuscript, and with Reichel, the foreman of the Cotta press. We can follow his coöperation, first, in the single volumes of the Taschenausgabe (Ć), and, similarly, later in the octavo edition (C), which was based on a revision of the previous edition, and constitutes his final survey of the text.” “No departures were to be made from the readings of C except for imperative reasons. Changes based upon the manuscripts or earlier editions, or upon independent criticism must be shown to be necessary.” As regards changes, however, which Göttling admitted in various places, silently or without Goethe's express authority, fuller liberty was granted to the editors to amend, where a criticism of the text was based on the poet's use of words. In case of necessity a return to the former reading was allowed. The octavo edition was made authoritative for orthography and punctuation. A slavish adherence to this text was not contemplated so that the new edition should be a mere reprint of the old. Defects, inconsistent usages, and lack of uniformity in printing were to be banished, so far as was practicable, while everything that was necessary to illustrate the sound and the pronunciation, especially in foreign words, was to be retained. In cases of doubt regarding readings, the general usage of the poet was to be considered, and where no clear and unequivocal usage was evident, preference was to be given to modern forms. No other basis for a standard edition can be conceived than that it should rest primarily upon that form which presents the author's final revision. To make an earlier edition the foundation of the text would be to ignore the apparent wish of the writer, and not to follow his final judgment as regards literary form. At the same time, in the absence of the original autographs, or of the revised text which was submitted to the printer, it is impossible to determine accurately how far Goethe actually participated in the revision of any given work, how far changes received his approval, or occurred in the progress of a volume through the press. Goethe was not indifferent to the purity of his text, but, on the contrary, insisted on the greatest fidelity to the original. He wrote to Cotta, relative to the first edition of his works, saying that he desired that it should present an attractive appearance, “ but correctness is of far more importance to me, and for this I most urgently entreat. You see that the copy has been gone over and corrected with the greatest care, and I should be in despair if it should again appear disfigured. Have the kindness to entrust the proof-reading to a careful man, and I enjoin expressly that the volume which I send should be accurately followed, that nothing in the orthography, punctuation or aught else be changed, and that even if an error should remain, it be printed with the rest. In short, I desire and require nothing save the most accurate copy of the original which I transmit.” With a manifest desire for accuracy, Goethe entrusted the revision of his works largely to others, and he often failed to take the most obvious measures for securing the purity of his text. In publishing the Schriften, he took, as Professor Bernays has pointed out, the corrupt Himburg reprint as the basis for a portion of his text. From this reprint, numerous errors passed into the edition of his Schriften in eight volumes. Similarly, the edition of the Schriften in four volumes with its numerous errors became, in part, the foundation of the corresponding sections of the Werke (A). Certain works he subjected to careful, personal revision; others he entrusted mainly to his literary assistants, Riemer, Eckermann, Göttling and others, or to his amanuenses. Detailed work of this nature was irksome to him, and a long habit of dictation and working through others caused him to place an unjustifiable reliance upon men whose training and literary judgment were unequal to the task. He himself had no fondness for strife about verbal questions, and could detect “no grammatical vein in himself.” In many cases it must remain unsettled what amendments were actually authorized by the poet. Where an autograph revision is not preserved, the various editions often show changes due to accident or to the caprice of compositors. Goethe did not always have his own printed works at hand. He was often also without copies of his separate works, and on several occasions sought to buy or borrow a copy of Hermann und Dorothea. In a letter to Sömmering of August 21, 1797, he stated that he had not had a complete copy of his writings in his house for years, and desired him to purchase at auction in Frankfurt the ten volumes of his Schriften, even prescribing the price which should be paid. His own writings were like emancipated children which would not abide with him.

In 1894, while preparing my doctor's thesis at Yale University, on the subject, “The Elizabethan Drama, especially in its Relations to the Italians of the Renaissance,” I began to study the Italian sources of the English dramatic poetry of the age of Elizabeth. Many of the plays are dramatized versions of novelle, which, in translation, were so popular at that time. But I soon found that romantic fiction by no means exhausted the treasure-trove of Renaissance literature upon which the great dramatists drew so largely, both for their matter and their inspiration. Italian discovery, history, science, manners, music, all that Italy had so abundantly contributed to the general stock of intellectual wealth, was becoming more and more familiar to the eager, open, impressionable minds of Elizabethan Englishmen, and almost everything of importance that appeared in France and Spain was sooner or later pressed into the service of English genius. So I purposely set aside the main subject of my inquiry, the Italian sources of Elizabethan plays, until I had made a collection, as complete as possible, of all the translations from the Italian during the Elizabethan period, understanding by that, the entire cycle of the great drama, approximately from the accession of Edward VI. to the Restoration, from 1549 to 1660. With this paper, Part IV, I now complete the bibliography. Part I, comprising 70 numbers, on “Romances in Prose,” will be found in the Publications of the Modern Language Association, Vol. x, No. 2, June, 1895; Part II, 82 numbers on “Poetry, Plays, and Metrical Romances,” Ibid., Vol. xi, No. 4, December, 1896; and Part III, 111 titles on ‘Miscellaneous Translations,‘ Ibid., Vol. xiii, No. 1, January, 1898. The present paper, an account of 139 translations, is the second half of Part III, and as that dealt with religion and theology, science and the arts, grammars and dictionaries, and proverbs, so this instalment of Miscellanea treats of voyages and discovery, history and politics, manners and morals, and Italian and Latin publications in England. The whole bibliography, corrected to date, consists of 411 translations, representing a total of 219 English translators, and 223 Italian authors.

In one of his most characteristic essays Matthew Arnold has discussed the literary influence of academies. He reminds us that “In the bulk of the intellectual work of a nation which has no centre, no intellectual metropolis like an academy .... there is observable a note of provinciality.” This note of provinciality, he further says, is due to one or both of two causes: (1) To remoteness from a “centre of correct information;” and (2) to remoteness from a “ centre of correct taste.” Remoteness from a centre of correct information gives rise to provinciality of ideas; while remoteness from a centre of correct taste gives rise to provinciality of style. Arnold declares, for example, that Addison, though free from provinciality of style, is yet provincial in his ideas. He is not a moralist of the first rank, says Arnold, because “he has not the best ideas attainable in or about his time, and which were, so to speak, in the air then, to be seized by the finest spirits. . . . He is provincial by his matter, though not by his manner.”

It is true that the poets often allow proper names to disturb the rhythmic character of verse; but there are limits beyond which few versifiers will be found to push any special license that they may be disposed to exercise in the use of names. The famous Shakespearean crux in the line,

“Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius Vllorxa,”

[Timon, III, iv, 112.]

Das speculum humanae salvationis gehört zu der grossen anzahl theologisch moralisirender gedichte des mittelalters, denen zwar vom aesthetisch literarischen Standpunkt aus nur geringer wert beigelegt werden kann, die aber kulturgeschichtlich eine nicht zu unterschätzende bedeutung gehabt haben. Wie sehr diese dichtung dazu beigetragen hat has geistige interesse des volks rege zu erhalten, erhellt, ganz abgesehen von dem künstlerischen beiwerk der illustrationen, schon aus dem umstande, dass sie mehrfach gegenstand der übersetzung und überarbeitung gewesen ist, nicht nur in Deutschland, wo das werk höchstwahrscheinlich entstanden ist, sondern auch in den nachbarländern.