At the beginning of the Vita Nuova Dante tells us that he proposes to copy into the little book words which he finds written in the book of his memory under the rubric Incipit Vita Nova; thus he brought together lyrics that he had already written, and connected them by a narrative and analysis in prose. The Vita Nuova belongs, then, to the class of writings made up of alternating prose and verse. As in the case of the Convivio, this method of composition was perfectly natural under the circumstances; Dante doubtless intended to do for his own early poems what had been done for certain Troubadours by the compilers of some of the Provençal anthologies, in which a prose biography is interspersed with specimens of the poet's verse. This has been pointed out by Pio Rajna, who further suggests that the analytical divisioni may have been modeled on certain works of St. Thomas. The prose explanations in the Provençal anthologies are called razos, and Dante uses the word ragione with the same meaning. In at least one respect, however, the Vita Nuova differs in form from the other works of this type; for the poems do not simply follow one another chronologically or according to the exigencies of the narrative, but are arranged on a symmetrical plan. The credit for having made this plain belongs to Professor C. E. Norton, who pointed it out in 1859.

“Oro ed argento fino, cocco e biacca, Indico legno lucido e sereno, Fresco smeraldo in l'ora che si fiacca“ are the substances Dante cites in Purgatorio, vii, 73–75, as being surpassed in color by the flowers and grass of the Valley of the Princes. The criticism on verse seventy-four divides into two schools according to the punctuation assigned to the passage by commentators. One section, and perhaps the greater, holds that Dante meant the whole line to refer to one substance, some word from India; the other, putting a comma after the first word, has it that the poet had two colors in mind when he wrote the words: the color of indigo and that of some “wood shining and clear,” which latter is however rather dull and obscure of interpretation. Among the substances guessed at by the commentators there is none that fits well the sense of the passage, neither ebony nor “quercia marcia” having colors appropriate to a description of bright flowers. Philalethes joined those who hold that “indico” should be interpreted as meaning indigo rather than Indian, feeling a need of blue among the flower colors. In the meadows of Saxony corn flower, speedwell, lungwort and borage are common on every hand and make generous gift of pure blue to the kaleidoscope of nature; but did Dante have any such association with the color? What place does blue hold in the Divina Commedia? It is surprising to find that there are only five references in the whole poem that surely can be interpreted “blue.” In the Inferno we have two of the purses worn by the usurers described with azure in the blazon (Inf., xvii, 59 and 64). In Purgatory the noonday light turns the heavenly blue to white (Purg., xxvi, 6) and in two passages the heavens have the color of saphire (Purg., i, 13, and Par., xxiii, 101). In one passage we cannot be quite sure that “smalto” may not mean blue—the doubt hinging on an ambiguity of reference to the earthly or the heavenly paradise; the frequent use Dante makes of the word to describe greensward is rather a strong argument for the former interpretation. This scarcity of blue in the coloring of the Divina Commedia is the more striking when we remember how rich in cobalt, ultramarine, and smalt were the illuminations and frescoes that made up the art of Dante's contemporaries, and how strong the visualistic power of the artist was in Dante.

These notes embody the result of a study of a Canadian French dialect spoken in Clayton, N. Y. There is in this village a colony of seven or eight hundred French Canadians, most of whom have come from the District of Montreal during the past fifty years. The older generation, as a rule, is illiterate; the younger generation reads and writes English, but not French. These colonists, therefore, have kept their French free from the leveling-down process of the schoolmaster.

Contemporary allusions to Drayton's contact with the Elizabethan drama are not very numerous. We know that he had some contact; and during the year 1598 he did a great deal of dramatic work. In his Elegy to Reynolds (1627), wherein he speaks of “poets and poesie,” there are reminiscent suggestions of Marlowe, Nashe, Shakspere, Jonson, Chapman, and Beaumont. But the strain of this very poem seems to hint that his memory was more tenacious of epic and lyric associations. In 1598, Meres iu his Palladis Tamia puts Drayton among the writers “best for tragedie,” along with Marlowe, Peele, Kyd, Shakspere, Chapman, Dekker, and Jonson. Drayton's dramatic period paralleled the dramatic incident called “The War of the Theatres.” Mr. Fleay finds Drayton in the current of this strife. Dr. Penniman, however, in his careful survey, does not associate Drayton with this dramatic contest.

The writing of “Characters” was at the same time one of the most prolific and the most significant phases of literary activity in the seventeenth century. Though many of these books of “Characters” have been forgotten, the titles of over one hundred and fifty are still remembered—enough certainly to show how popular the fashion of such writing was. Furthermore, its significance becomes apparent when we consider what prose fiction owes to it; for, through the periodical essay of the eighteenth century, the old formal “Character” passed into the novel and become a part of it.

To distinguish between the course of rhetorical ideas, and the growth of style on the one hand, and of systematic rhetoric on the other, is perhaps to endeavor after too nice a distinction. Yet when we read sixteenth-century English, we may see, between the general effort to use prose with effect and the rather arid sequence of treatises on formal rhetoric, certain definite ideas on prose expression, certain views as to the best vocabulary, certain views on sentence-structure or figures of speech. The frank, vigorous prose of Latimer has style of a sort, the slight treatise of Cox has system. Neither the one thing nor the other is the opinion pro and con as to inkhorn words, for example. The following paper notes in the direction of the vocabulary only, a conscious effort to determine some fundamental principles which should obtain in the use of English as a means of literary expression.

The desire was expressed some years ago that we might soon have in English a collection of translations of Old English poetry that might fill the place so well filled in German by Grein's Dichtungen der Angelsachsen. This desire is now in a fair way of accomplishment, and much has been done during the past ten years, the period embraced in this paper. As was naturally to be expected from the work previously done in criticism of both text and subject-matter, Beowulf has attracted more than ever the thoughts and efforts of translators, for we had in 1892 the rhythmical translation of Professor J. Lesslie Hall and the prose version of Professor Earle; in 1895 (reprinted in cheaper form in 1898) the poetical translation of William Morris and A. J. Wyatt, the editor of Beowulf; in 1901 the prose version of Dr. J. R. Clark Hall, author of A Concise Anglo-Saxon Dictionary; and only the other day, in 1902, the handy prose version of Professor C. B. Tinker.