from the sacred Clitumnus, which have led triumphs to the temples of the gods, Italy, where lambs are born twice a year, and trees bear apples twice, and fierce tigers and cruel lions are far away, where many noble cities and towns are built on steep cliffs, and rivers glide below the ancient walls. Who could forget the two seas of Italy and the lakes-Como and Garda, Lucrinus and Avernus with their Julian harbor? If one has walked along the northern shore of the Pay of Naples and from the Lucrine Lake inland to Lake Avernus, the allusion to the Julian harbor is particularly interesting; Agrippa cut a passage from one lake to the other and joined Lucrinus to the Bay, reenforcing the narrow beach with masonry. Says Vergil (161-164):

Need I speak of the Julian harbor and the sea-wall built on Lake Lucrinus, where the sea angrily dashes, but is thrust back with echoing roar, while a narrow tide is let in from the Tyrrhenian sea to Lake Avernus?

There are rivers of silver, and bronze and gold to be found, and a mighty race of heroes-the Marsi and the Sabines, the Tigurians and the Volscians, the Decii, the Marii and the famous Camilli, the Scipios and great Augustus:

Salve, magna parens frugum, Saturnia tellus,

magna virum

(2) The second question was: Is Vergil's poetry romantic? Does Nature change with his moods (the pathetic fallacy)? It would be easy to illustrate this from the Eclogues, or from the Aeneid. In Eclogue 1.38 we have Ipsae te, Tityre, pinus, ipsi te fontes, ipsa haec arbusta vocabant. In Aeneid 7.511 ff., when the Fury Allecto was rousing the enemies of Aeneas, at the sound of her trumpet the forest trembled, and afar Lake Nemi heard it, and the white Nera, and the springs of Velia. 'The forest of Angitia wept for you and the glassy waves of Fucinus, and the calm lakes' (759). In the Georgics there is neither the love-making of the Eclogues (or, as Professor Sellar calls it, the idealizing affection), nor the excitement of war and passionate love of the Aeneid (unless one excepts the description of Spring 'the bridal of the earth and the sky', 324 ff.); but the sympathy between man and nature and their interdependence are made very plain. The sympathy is shown in Vergil's use of personification: 'the laurel likes to grow under the shadow of its mother', which is Vergil's illustration of the way a tree grows from the root of another, 19; the farmers 'must soothe the wild fruits by cultivation', 36; 'but, if these wild trees are grafted, they will give up their woodland ideas (animum) and will follow eagerly to whatever accomplishments you invite them', 51; while, on the other hand, an ungrafted tree will bear apples that have forgotten their old flavor, 59. The husbandmen must teach the graft to grow, 77. The Rhaetian grape is told not to try to rival the Falernian, 96. The gravelly soil and the tufa boast that they give the best food and hiding-places to snakes, 214. Cuttings must be transplanted to the same kind of soil, so that they will feel acquainted with their mutatam matrem; their faces must be kept to the

sun, and their backs to the cold, as they were in their first home, 268. "The crops will lift up their hearts" (Sellar) with proper drainage, 350. The fir-tree will know trouble on the sea, casus abies visura marinos, 68. A grafted tree will be surprised at its strange leaves and at the apples not its own, 82.

The frequent use of laetus to describe plants and trees is interesting (50). The wild trees are happy and brave (48); the shores are most happy with their myrtle thickets, 112; the herds are happy, 144; the ground is happy because of the sweet moisture, 182; the soil is happier, 252; the happy vine-shoots push toward the sky, racing through the air with loosened rein, 363; in the happy grass the fat kids struggle with interlacing horns, 525.

What of the interdependence of Nature and man? Nature feeds, warms, and clothes him, and does it willingly: 'man plucks what fruits the branches give, and what the willing fields bear of their own accord',' 500 ff. "The year overwhelms him with fruit and herds and grain, and burdens his land with the harvest and breaks down his granaries', 516 ff. 'He is fortunate who knows the woodland gods, Pan and Silvanus and the Nymphs, far happier than one who finds his pleasures in political honors or in the excitement of city life, or in war or in luxury', 493. 'When the holidays come, the farmer can lie stretched in the grass, while his comrades wreathe the wine-bowl or try their skill at archery or wrestling', 527. Professor Sellar says:

The farmer has a reward within himself in the hardening of his fibre and the sharpening of his faculties. It was toil, unsparing toil, that won all the victories, and the pressure of want and grinding adversity. Look at the men whom this rough Italian farm-life has bredthose hard, and more than hard, frames they strip for the wrestling (corporaque agresti nudant praedura palaestrae). Is it surprising that a people bred in this hard school to be masters of themselves are masters of the world, a people of Marii and Scipios?

(3) We come now to the philosophical view of Nature. Has Vergil's poetry any of the Wordsworthian quality? Is it thoughtful and reflective? In speaking of the trees that grow spontaneously, not even from seed, he says, 49, Quippe solo natura subest, 'Surely there is a creative power that lurks beneath the soil'. 'The young plants must not be turned about in transplanting, for it is a great thing to form habits in the young' adeo in teneris consuescere multum est, 272. The vines must be arranged, regularly, not only that the view may feed the empty mind, non animum modo uti pascat prospectus inanem, 285. His belief in the youth of the world is emphatically expressed at the end of the beautiful description of spring which I mentioned before: 'And I do not believe that in the very beginning of the world the dawning days were different from these, no, nor the whole day long', 336. He begs the sweet Muses to teach him the mysteries of the sky and the stars, and the wanderings of the sun and the ways of the moon, but if his blood grows cold about his heart so that he cannot follow the study of nature, still he

will love the fields and the running streams in the valleys, the rivers and the woods. That is a happy man who is able to learn the causes of things, who can put all fears and pitiless fate beneath his feet, and the roar of greedy Acheron. This power the country and the country gods, Pan and Silvanus, teach him, 475. Sellar says:

In this passage Virgil recognizes the source of his strength: Flumina amem silvasque. It is the power of love which quickens his intuition and enables him to perceive the tenderness and beauty revealed in the living movement of Nature.

Vergil believed in man's dependence on a higher spiritual power. Says Sellar (Virgil, 209-210):

Nature he regards as no more independent in her sphere than man is in his. The ultimate fact which he endeavours to set forth and justify is the relation of man to Nature, under a divine dispensation.

There must be a constant struggle with the reluctant forces of Nature, but there is also the resource of prayer and of propitiating Heaven by rites and sacrifices, and by a life of piety and innocence. I quote Sellar once more (Virgil, 210-211):

The ethical precepts of the Georgics, as is said by a distinguished French writer, may be summed up in the mediaeval maxim, Laborare est orare.

I should like to quote from Wordsworth's Tintern Abbey a passage that seems to me very like those lines of Vergil, 175 ff., which expressed his longing to understand the mysteries of Nature and his love of the streams and the woods:

Miss Hamilton's book is, as it claims to be, a book of outlines. There are no glaring errors; but it is uninteresting, it has only six illustrations, poor ones at that, it is too syncopated for a history, and too diffuse for an outline.

Professor Morey's book is a revision of his Outlines of Ancient History. The work is well done. Especial reference must be made to the goodly number of maps2 double-page, 18 full-page, 25 half-page, and 22 small insert maps. Chapters II-VI, on The Oriental Peoples, contain 62 pages, VII-XVIII, on The Greek People, 216 pages, and XIX-XXXV, on The Roman People, 302 pages. The Appendix contains a Chronological Summary, a Classified List (12 pages) of Important Books upon Ancient History, and a good Index, with diacritical marks to show pronunciation. There are very few pages without an illustration of some sort, and most of them are good. But the author retains the 52 small woodcuts showing the heads of Greek and Roman men. The reviewer has heard students laugh at such illustrations, and one needs only to turn to page 246 and read that Alcibiades was "fascinating in person", and then glance at the woodcut of a very homely and uninteresting person labelled Alcibiades, or at the sick-looking Miltiades (so-called) on page 154, to realize that a succession of pictures of heavily whiskered men who look much alike is not the best illustrative matter.

The Hittites do not receive as much space as is warranted; the statement (97) that "Mycenaean" is "a term now restricted to the culture found in Greece proper" is not quite correct, for it is applied to the Sixth City of Troy, and to island sites that fit Mycenaean dates; the "Hill of Ares (Mars)" (127) is now a questionable designation; "Aryan" (145) is no longer to be considered as another term for Indo-European, for Aryan is the Indo-Persian branch of Indo-European; it has not yet been decided what Roma Quadrata (311) really was; the explanation of the comitia tributa (332) would have been better if Professor Botsford's book, Roman Assemblies, had been consulted; the line of Hannibal's march from Spain to Italy (Map, page 368) does not cross the Rhone at the right place; the title "The Captive Province" under the woodcut (389) of a seated woman in distress does not tell anything; in the explanation of the Battle of Actium (441) the author might better have followed Ferrero; the German policy of Augustus as given by the author (461) has been proved wrong by Professors Oldfather and Canter (see THE CLASSICAL WEEKLY 10.47-48); the pith of papyrus stems was split and pasted in sheets, and not peeled off in layers (507); the edict of Caracalla was promulgated in 212 A. D., not in 211 (517); the restoration of the Theater of Dionysus (204) is not a very good one, for it restores neither a Greek nor a Roman theater.

But these notes are meant as suggestions rather than as criticisms, for Professor Morey's history is an excellent one, the revision is timely and is well done, and the book has been, and is, a credit to the profession.

Professor Breasted's book is the best book on ancient history for Schools that we have. But before specifying why that is so, let us make the few criticisms we can, and forget them. Professor Breasted devotes nearly one-third of his new book (which is an enlargement of part of Robinson and Breasted, Outlines of European History, Part I) to the history of the Orient, and certainly no one else so well as Professor Breasted can make a classical historian admit that this procedure is almost justifiable. That the author is our leading Egyptologist we know, and one expects to find the history of Egypt and the Orient done with a loving touch and a steady hand, and such is the case. To the history of Greece and Rome just as much devotion has been given, but in those sections there are a few small mistakes. Perhaps also those who are working in the Greek and the Roman fields may think that the latter pages of the history are rather too plentifully sprinkled with libations of Nile water.

The author says on page 286, "In Sparta the power of the king was checked by the appointment of a second king". Perhaps it would have been better to say 'the kingly power was checked', etc., which would have removed the implication that Sparta had one king until it was found better to check his power. On page 289 one finds the Greek colonists in South Italy looking "northward to the hills" on which Rome was to be, which seems to credit the Greeks with a too highly developed anticipatory vision. The reviewer's students are inclined to deny the possibility of three men sitting, each with an oar, on the same bench, as the Corinthian warship is manned by the author (299). The arrangement of the seats for the rowers is still an unsettled question (see Journal of Hellenic Studies, 19 [1899] and Fowler and Wheeler, Greek Archaeology, 440, with photograph of a Theban lebes). The splendid Doric temple below the Acropolis is properly called in the illustration (365) The So-called Temple of Theseus; yet the statement might have been added that archaeologists now call it the Temple of Hephaestus.

The author calls the renewal of the Peloponnesian War, after the peace of Nicias, the Third Peloponnesian War. That name will probably not hold. The Great Greek Suicide, or the Hellenic Civil War, might make a good title. Thucydides, of course, does not call it the Peloponnesian War, and, from the point of view of Sparta, the war would have been the Attic War, as Professor Bury has noted. The war in this country in 1861-1865 is The War of Secession, or The War of Rebellion, unless the writer or the speaker is trying to straddle Mason and Dixon's line. It will be remembered that Napoleon called his great battle in 1815 Mont St. Jean, but that the two names used for it are La Belle Alliance and Waterloo. Unless history can fasten the blame for a war pretty definitely on one party or the other, a neutral name that will be descriptive would seem to be desirable.

In the descriptive matter under the illustration on page 314 the author, in speaking of Greek vase-painting,

says that "it was at this time done in red color on a black background". This statement is an oversight, of course, because, as every one knows, the red color was not put on the vase; the red is the natural color of the terra-cotta, saved while the rest of the vase is painted black. Under Figure 218 the author speaks of certain Pergamenian and Rhodian sculptures, the sarcophagus reliefs of Alexander, and the mosaic picture of the battle of Issus "as the supreme creations of ancient art". Students of Greek art hold that the Parthenon sculptures have that place. In the map of Early Latium, on page 493, among Veii, Tibur, Tusculum, and Alba Longa the Villa of Hadrian is rather out of place. The reviewer is glad to note that the map on page 500 is a good one, because the one on page 250 in the corresponding chapter of the book by Professors Robinson and Breasted was out of place. The author is a bit hazy about the early officials of Rome. On page 505 he speaks of "four new officials called tribunes". Niese, in 1886, and E. Meyer, in 1895, did try to prove that the tribunes were not elected until 471 and were originally four in number, but that view has been successfully controverted. The best authority for early officials and the comitia is not Meyer, but Botsford, The Roman Assemblies. On the same page, the words "number of officials called censors" were, I feel sure, meant to con'vey a different impression from what they really say.

On page 536 Professor Breasted calls the Second Punic War the Hannibalic War. It is hard to launch new names: witness the difficulty in changing Arbela to Gaugamela, or Hastings to Senlac. Besides, "Hannibal" does not seem to lend itself well to an adjectival form. On the maps between pages 552 and 553 the adjective is changed to "Hannibalian". Hannibal's route shown on the map on page 538 does not cross the Rhone at the right place. The comparison on page 593 of Caesar's six cohorts at Pharsalus behind his cavalry to "an unobserved football player crouching on the right side lines to receive the ball", is well meant in deference to student's apperception, but the author has evidently never played football, for the two positions are not at all comparable. Professor Breasted holds to the old German statement that Augustus tried to extend the Roman limes to the Elbe. This statement had been accepted until Professors Oldfather and Canter proved it wrong (see THE CLASSICAL WEEKLY 10.47-48).

These slight criticisms apart, Professor Breasted has given us a book in which "the bulk of the space has been devoted to the life of man in all its manifestations-society, industry, commerce, religion, art, literature". The book has better illustrations and better maps than any other book we have, and the descriptive matter under the illustrations is full, and interesting, and has set a pattern which must be followed. There are about 500 pages in the book and about 215 pages of illustrative matter. There are a number of illustrations in color, very excellently done, scores of plates in sepia printed on special light cream paper, many new maps, and

The Wasps of Aristophanes. The Greek Text Revised, with a Translation into Corresponding Metres, Introduction, and Commentary. By Benjamin Bickley Rogers. London: G. Bell and Sons (1915). Pp. lii + 312. $3.25.

Though there is nothing on the title-page to indicate the fact, this book is in reality a second edition. At the end of the Introduction to the First Edition, reprinted (pages v-xliii), we have the date "September, 1875". Next comes (xliv-xlvii) a Supplementary Note to the Present Edition. This deals with the light which the Polity of Athens, discovered about 1890, has thrown "upon the details of the dicastic system as it existed in the days of Aristotle"; the dicastic system plays a part in the Wasps. On page xlviii we read, "In the Wasps, as in the Peace, the additions now made in the Commentary are so insignificant in comparison with the original matter, that it has been thought best to signify them by brackets".

The additions are in fact few and brief. It seems a pity that the Commentary was not completely revised. To be sure, one is hardly justified in demanding such revision at the hands of a man as provectus aetate as Mr. Rogers is; but, on the other hand, there was no call for any revision-save a thorough-going one-by him of his book.

There is nothing to indicate whether the translation has been revised. There is not a statement, either, of the extent to which the Appendix of Various Readings (245-312) has been revised. There has, in fact, been revision, as the very first sentence indicates, implicitly, if not explicitly: "There are ten extant MSS., Professor Williams White tells us, containing the Comedy of the Wasps". It is clear also that here Mr. Rogers has taken account of the readings in some, at least, of the editions published since his own first edition: Blaydes (1893); Van Leeuwen (1893 and 1909); Merry (1893); Graves (1894); Starkie (1897); Hall and Geldart, the text in the Oxford Classical Text Series (1900). This part of the book gives to the revision such value as the revision has.

ΑΝ ΕTYMOLOGY

С. К.

In Homer the ocean was still a river (compare Iliad 16.151,18.607). Much water has gone into the sea since-with a halting morphology, to be sure-I connected ὠκεανός with ὠκύς (in The American Journal of Philology 17.7). The derivation is now clear to me, however, in all its details. Our word is a compound. Its posterius is ἐανός, 'going', 'flowing', and is derived from the root ei, after the pattern of ἐδανός, edendus; στεγανός, tegens; Lith. tekinas, currens. The verb ett is used in the Rig Veda (3.33.7) to describe the rapid streaming forth of the waters after their release by Indra; and in the same stanza áyanā-m (possibly

CARMEN PASTORALE

-(To be sung to the air of Integer Vitae) Pastor ut cladem pecori veretur, cautus hinc1 ne qua rapiatur agna, sic mihi curat deus ut redundent omnia laeta.

Semper et praesens velut in reductis vallibus ducit placidos ad amnes; firmat is curis animum solutis

firmat alitque.

Sive sub noctem mihi mox eundumst,
per vias maestas, ubi Terror ingens
ingruit templis pavidis et Orci
aedibus altis,

seu feras Hydras reliquasque diras
beluas visam, nihilum timebo;
intuens nutum ducis atque vultum,
mente quiescam.

From ill as shepherd wards his flock,
Alert lest thence a lamb be torn,
So cares the Lord that evermore
Secure delights my lot adorn.

His presence as through leafy vales
To quiet streams doth lead me on;
My soul from every care relieved
He beareth up and maketh strong.

Be it my lot to walk beneath

The shadows of the fearsome road
Where Terror shrouds the dread domain
And lofty aisles of Hell's abode,

Of if my path the Hydra's rage
With other portents dire assails;
I'll nothing fear; but calm and still
I'll wait the sign that never fails.

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA.

H. C. NUTTING.

LATIN PLAY IN A HIGH SCHOOL

On March 1-2, the Latin students of the Hollywood High School, Los Angeles, California, presented Professor Miller's play, Dido, The Phoenician Queen, in a Latin version which they had themselves prepared. The performance was an extraordinary success. All parts, even the parts in the chorus, were carried by Latin students. Miss Bertha Green, Head of the Latin Department, had general charge of the performance, and to her, assisted by many willing workers among the teachers and a most enthusiastic body of students, the success of the play is due. More than forty Schools were represented in the audience; some of the spectators came 250 miles.

WALTER A. EDWARDS.

THE TAURIC IPHIGENIA AT THE UNIVERSITY OF MIGHICAN

Editorial

"To have seen a Grecian play is a great remembrance", wrote DeQuincey in 1845, after the performance at Edinburgh of the Antigone in English with Mendelssohn's new music, and, though in recent times, since the Oedipus Tyrannus was so superbly presented at Harvard in 1881, productions of Greek plays in English have become common and even popular, it is still a rare and memorable experience to hear the master pieces of the Athenian drama creditably rendered in the original Greek. "It was cheap at the price of a journey to Siberia", DeQuincey added; and one who had traveled to Harvard in 1906 to see the masterpiece of Aeschylus performed, and to Dartmouth in 1910 to witness that of Sophocles was well repaid for a trip to Ann Arbor to see the favorite play of Euripides presented on March 29, 1917, by The Classical Club of the University of Michigan. It was a high service to the cause of the Classics that these young people rendered by giving this performance when the Michigan Schoolmaster's Club was holding its fifty-second meeting-an object-lesson as to the enduring beauty, inspiration, and human appeal of Greek literature, of more value than all the discussions, papers addressses, and apologetics generally in which such meetings abound. A unique feature of the occasion was the presence of a large number of native Greeks from Detroit, Ypsilanti, and elsewhere, who were addressed in their own tongue by Professor C. L. Meader and gave a most enthusiastic

response.

The play was cut down by somewhat over one-third, the chief cuts being made in the long Second Episode, with its great recognition scene, which in action entirely justified the admiration of Aristotle. The scenery was beautiful, an impressive Doric temple in a charming woodland setting; one would have welcomed a glimpse of the sea in the background, so large is the part it plays by suggestion in this romantic drama. The acting was done with great spirit and naturalness and feeling, and much credit is due to the young actors, who enjoyed the advantage of having women take the feminine rôles (as they did in the Stanford University production of the Antigone in 1902) —an advantage denied to the University of Pennsylvania in its performance of this play in 1903. The chief aim of the actors was to make the

No. 26

drama interesting even to those the great majority of their audience—who knew no Greek, and there can be no doubt as to the correctness and the success of their aim, even if it involved the sacrifice of some important things. A clearer and slower declamation of the lines might have bored most of the hearers (as was the case with the Dartmouth Oedipus); the Hellenist could follow the words at least as well as he could in an opera (and, after all, Greek tragedy was very much of an opera), while the barbarian had all the enjoyment of a beautiful moving picture, full of life and color, with the potent added charm of the strangely beautiful music.

The music indeed was the crowning distinction of this performance, for which it was especially composed. Professor Stanley had already shown his genius for adapting the Greek modes to modern ears in his exquisite settings of the lyrics in Percy Mackaye's Sappho and Phaon and in Euripides's Alcestis, which was played in English some years ago at the University of Michigan. In the Iphigenia in Tauris the Greek rhythms were closely followed (the Kommos with its difficult dochmiacs was wisely omitted), as they were in Mendelssohn's music, but here for the first time the Dorian, Phrygian, and Aeolian modes were freely employed by a master hand and modern harmonies were avoided. The music was rendered by a small choir of skilled singers behind the scenes, to the accompaniment of two flutes, two clarinets, a harp, and a small piano, sufficiently suggestive of ancient instruments, and, as it interpreted the varied feelings of chorus and spectators alike, its charming rhythmical surprises, its curious felicity and simple dignity, and above all its prevailing religious tone, now reminiscent of the Delphic Hymn to Apollo, now suggestive of a Church chorale, provided a new and vivid emotional experience. It proved, what many have always believed, that Greek music, like the other Greek arts, muct have always been a thing of beauty, even judged by modern standards, and that the choral parts must always have been the chief feature of Greek tragedy. The chorus of Greek women, here increased to seventeen and relieved from the duty of singing, was certainly the chief actor, as always the chief element in the stage picture: the groupings and the movements and the softly-colored draperies were a constant pleasure to the eye, and the simple but stately dances wrought into visible harmony the words and the rhythms and the musical setting, a living exposition of the Greek genius for uniting all the arts in one supreme