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If we suppose such a scheme extended to several hundred pages of the prose of Ruskin and De Quincey, we shall have a fair conception of what our author has attempted for Demosthenes and parts of Isocrates. He protests (p. iii) against the tendency of certain critics to treat the new scientific study of rhythmical prose flippantly, and I have no desire to take so serious a piece of industry as this book otherwise than seriously. But to meet the author on his own ground is evidently impossible in the compass of a brief review. It would be necessary to rewrite his schemes or to show sentence by sentence where they fit and where they violate the natural pauses and stresses of a good reading. But even if there were space for this, I should still wish to raise the previous question in several forms.

All prose consists of longs and shorts which a very little ingenuity suffices to reduce to something that may be called meter. A writer on the poetry of Lincoln in the North American Review for February, 1911, prints the chief speeches of Lincoln in plausible blank verse, and a writer in the Classical Review for June, 1911, p. 104, shows that it is unsafe to argue from verse tags in Livy to a poetical source, because the verse tags are all over the shop, even where Livy is following Polybius.

But to waive this point, much good Greek, Latin, French, and English prose is really rhythmical, and admits of approximate metrical schematization with only a moderate percentage of allowance for the taste, caprice, or personal equation of the reader. But what is the use of such a scheme? In poetry, the rhythm is definite, fixed, and regularly recurrent, and is consciously intended by the writer, though he may not be, and generally is not, conscious of the scheme which, however inadequate, roughly guides the reader in reproducing the intended movement of the verse. In prose, the rhythm does not govern every syllable, but only such portions of the stream of speech as the schematizer sometimes arbitrarily selects, and in prose, though here and there a cadence or clausula may be consciously intended, the rhythm as a whole is due to the writer's unconscious feeling for verbal harmony, and preoccupation with a formal scheme will probably lead to false emphasis and affected sing-song reading.

So much of rhythmical prose in general. But in the case of Greek there are a number of other difficult problems to be settled before we can safely advance a step in these inquiries. It is perfectly idle to go on talking about a purely quantitative, unstressed rhythm. There is no such thing in rerum natura. Stress is an essential constituent of appreciable rhythm. In Greek poetry the stress is determined by the metrical arrangement of the quantities, so that the same word may be differently stressed in two consecutive lines. The Greeks were enabled to accept this convention, perhaps, by the lightness of their word-stress and the association of verse with music. At any rate they did accept it for verse. Shall we extend the principle to rhythmical prose, and hold that the normal word-stress shifted with the rhythm there also? Rhythmical prose in Greek can have no meaning for us until this

question is answered, yet the majority of investigators do not even ask it. Professor Zander, if I understand him, boldly accepts the paradox. He adds rhythmical stress accents, contradicting the word accents, to his metrical scheme, and would scan Greek oratory like poetry. The only difference he finds is that rhythmical prose admits only the quantities and and does not recognize the trisemes and cyclic dactyls of some verse. If we are to scan the prose, this assumption seems arbitrary, but I do not care to debate the point. I merely wish to call attention to the fact that all quantitative metrical schemes for rhythmical prose, if they mean anything, really involve the acceptance of Professor Zander's postulate. Such prose is to be scanned, with a stress quite different from that which we have been accustomed to give to the words taken singly. The aesthetic paradox might be defended by the analogy of the coloring of Greek statues, so repugnant to our taste, but I will leave the question, merely adding that to my own ear the rhythm of many fine sentences in Greek prose depends upon the stress of the printed accents. That may be an illusion-must be, if the accents never represented stress. But I doubt if it is any more likely to be an illusion than the choriambs, the cretics, the bacchics, and the antispasts of Professor Zander's schemes.

The next question is the relation of the metrical cola to the sense cola, the clauses of punctuation and the pauses of a good reader. If we are to scan, I see no more necessity for absolute coincidence between sense and rhythm in prose than in verse. But whatever their compromises with the principle in practice, it is the tendency of students of this subject to assume such coincidence in theory. The correct analysis of the sense cola is supposed to yield the true divisions and correspondences of the rhythm. In Professor Zander's application of the principle, however, there is a dangerous approximation to a circle in the reasoning. If our metrical schemes coincide, he says, with a necessary or a possible pause in the recital, they are presumably thereby verified (see p. 183). This leaves a wide field for the play of subjectivity. On p. 121 he establishes the rhythm


ὃ γὰρ βούλεται·

[τοῦθ ̓ ἕκα] στος καὶ οἴεται

Are we to pause slightly in the middle of the word ἕκαστος ? If not, στος καὶ oleraι will hardly be sufficiently detached to be felt as a metrical unit of correspondence. Again on p. 174, in Demosth. Ol. 1. 4: ov μǹv åλλ' ÉTIEL | κῶς ὦ ἄνδρες ̓Αθη¦ ναῖοι τοῦθ ̓ ὁ δυσ (μαχώτατόν ἐστι τῶν Φιλίππου πραγμάτ Twv) he finds this articulation:

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Is this a mere exercise of schematic ingenuity, or does he suppose that Demosthenes pronounced it so, with a break in the middle of three words? There are hundreds of such cases, in which the rhythmic divisions or correspondences divide words, separate articles, adjectives, and prepositions from their nouns, and interrupt the natural and normal flow of the stream of speech. Of course, if it is frank scansion or singing, that might be conceivable, but how is it to be reconciled with the principle of the correspondence of the divisions of the rhythm to the thought?

In further apology for my skeptical attitude to this entire method of inquiry, it may be noted that different investigators propound with equal confidence contradictory schemes. To take the first instance that presents itself, Zander (p. 305) schematizes the first sentence of the Panegyricus thus: (πολλάκις ἐθαύμασα τῶν τὰς πανηγύρεις συναγαγόντων, (καὶ τοὺς) γυμνικοὺς ἀγῶνας καταστησάντων

but Blass, in his Die Rhythmen der asianischen und römischen Kunstprosa (p. 3), is equally certain that the intended rhythm is:

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But if words not needed for the scheme may be bracketed and ignored in the one case, and an augment separated from its verb in the other, what is to hinder our fitting any scheme to any words?

Finally, let me say again that it was quite impossible to review adequately, or do justice to Zander's laborious and suggestive book. But however superficial this notice must seem to him, I think the questions that I have raised will have to be answered before the majority of scholars can either understand or feel much confidence in the new science of rhythmical prose.



Die Anschauungen vom Wesen des Griechentums. BILLETER. Leipzig and Berlin: B. G. Teubner, 1911. This work is rather the plan and materials of a book than a book in the proper sense. An Allgemeiner Theil of 87 pages sets forth in highly generalized and abstract language the questions that may be asked, the problems that may be debated, the judgments that may be passed, about the origin, character, and historical development of the Greeks, and the quality of their civilization. The Besonderer Theil, pp. 88-463, illustrates each topic of the general part by copious bibliographical references to, and brief, often commonplace, quotations from an immense but somewhat indiscriminatingly selected literature, both philological and general. There are in the index no

references to Shelley, Mill, Coleridge, Jowett, Macaulay, De Quincey, Landor, De Maistre, Brunetière; 25 to R. Eucken, 24 to Limburg Brouwer, 19 to J. A. St. John, 48 to O. F. Schlegel, 67 to Wilamowitz, 65 to Nietsche, 53 to Herder, 40 to R. Pöhlmann, 49 to Eduard Meyer, 33 to E. Rohde, 29 to Grote, 26 to Butcher, 26 to Goethe, 16 to Jebb, 10 to Schopenhauer, 7 to Renan, 13 to Walter Pater, 6 to Ruskin, 4 to Oliver Goldsmith, but none to Gibbon, Johnson, Burke, Gray, Fitzgerald, Tennyson, Browning; 50 to J. Burckhardt, but none to John Addington Symonds; 2 each to Matthew Arnold, D'Annunzio, and Walter Bagehot; 1 each to Rabelais, Montaigne, Emerson, and Maeterlinck. I give these figures not by way of censure, but as an indication of the character of the material here gathered, and in confirmation of what ought to be the truism that from the point of view of our own national culture the perspective of books prepared for the German scientific public must be hopelessly out of focus.

I should be sorry to seem to underrate this laborious, and for those who can use it rightly, helpful compilation. A work of this sort can in the nature of things never be complete. We must judge it by what it gives, rather than by what it omits. Taken in this way, the present volume will be an extremely useful tool in the scholar's working library.



Posen, 1908.

Diogenes von Apollonia. In the second part of his treatise on Diogenes of Apollonia Dr. Krause manifests the same conservatism and good sense as in the first part, reviewed in this Journal (IV, No. 3). The main subjects treated are the formation of the world, the generation, growth, and structure of living beings.

Dr. Krause in the main follows the traditional accounts. Only in occasional minor points does he make suggestions that are new, and these are usually sound. We may note, however, that he attributes the generation of plants to the fermenting of water, while in Theophrastus' account this process seems incidental to the creative, vitalizing power of air. (Theophrastus Hist. Plant. iii. 1. 4.) Again Dr. Krause seems to have misconceived the sense in which the mists arising from the sea are said to support the heavens (Arist. Meteor. B 2, 355 a 21), since he concludes from it, on p. 8, that probably the end of the world will come when the sea is dried up and the heavens fall in consequence.

The most significant part of the treatise is the discussion of the circulation of the blood, which is taken up in great detail. The circulatory system of Diogenes does not recognize the central position of the heart, but consists chiefly of two great blood vessels going from the head to the feet and sending out branches to the other parts of the body, including the heart. The distinction between the veins and arteries is not observed, probably because the arteries are empty in the dead body and would easily escape notice.

Dr. Krause makes the interesting suggestion, which explains many features of Diogenes' circulatory system, that his ideas were obtained, not from dissection of the human body, which certainly was not customary in his day, but from animals. The vital organs of animals were very familiar to the Greeks, because the examination of them was one of the commonest methods of divination. An excellent diagram accompanies this portion of Dr. Krause's work.


Lo Stato e l'Istruzione Pubblica nell' Impero Romano. Da CORRADO BARBAGALLO. Catania: Francesco Battiato, 1911. Pp. 430. L. 6.

"Public instruction in Europe is wholly of Italic origin." These are the first words of the Introduction to Barbagallo's book on The State and Public Instruction in the Roman Empire, and certainly in the truth of this statement is justification enough for the most detailed study of the educational institutions of the ancient Romans. For purposes of comparison with modern institutions, however, a study of the schools of the Republican period is not enough; we need also to understand those of the Empire, for it was in the Empire that the schools received their fullest development. Barbagallo has undertaken in the present work to explain the connection of the central government with public instruction in the period from Augustus to Justinian; the work is therefore an exposition of the development of the educational side of the imperial polity during the first five centuries of the Roman Empire. The most notable feature of this polity was the increasing interference of the emperor in matters of oversight and control relating to the schools-interference that led in the end to a form of public instruction not unlike that which is the most common form of public instruction in Europe at the present day.

Barbagallo has performed his task well, and the result is a book of great value and interest. It was not a part of Barbagallo's plan to give an account of the inner workings of the schools or a complete picture of the schools as they were at any one period of their existence, and these things we do not find in the book. But we have a discussion, at once clear and acutely reasoned, of the various acts of the emperors in succession from Augustus to Justinian relative to the subject of education. Only in a subordinate way is the relation of the various municipalities to the teachers and schools touched upon. Though the method of treatment is annalistic, the book is organically constructed; the outlines of the structure as a whole and the bearing of the different parts on each other are not lost sight of in the discussion of details.

Some of the more important conclusions of Barbagallo's study may be summarized thus: Two different theories of public instruction existed

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