NUMBER 15 
THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS BULLETIN 
No. 3526: July 8, 1935 

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THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS !'RESS 
~ 


STUDIES IN ENGLISH 
NUMBER 15 
THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS BULLETIN 
No. 3526: July 8, 1935 
PUBLISHED BY THE UNIVERSITY FOUR TIMES A MONTH AND ENTERED AS 
SECOND-CLASS MATTER AT THE POSTOFFICE AT AUSTIN, TIEXA8, 
UNDER THE ACT OF AUGUST 24, 1912 

The benefita of education and of aaeful lmowledae, aenerally diffuaed throuah a community, are eMential to the preaenation of a free aoyern­ment. 
Sam Houaton 
Cultiyated mind ia the auardian seniua of Democracy,and while auided and controlled by virtue, the nobleat attribute of man. Itiatheonly dictator that freemen acknowledge, and the only aecurity which freemen deaire. 
Mirabeau B. Lamar 
CONTENTS 
CORRECTIONS IN THE PARIS MANUSCRIPT OF CHAUCER'S "CANTERBURY TALES/' by Martin Michael Crow_____ 5 "ALMOST DAMN'D IN A FAIR WIFE," by Robert Adger Law ------------------------------------------------------------------------19 A NOTE ON "LYCIDAS," 91, by T. P. Harrison, Jr.____________ 22 EARLY EDITIONS OF LILLO'S "LoNDON MERCHANT," by 
R. H. Griffith --------------------------------------------------------------23 BELINDA'S GAME OF OMBRE, by Edward G. Fletcher____ 28 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL ELEMENTS IN HAWT HORNE'S "THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE," by Arlin Turner___ 39 POE'S DEBT TO VOLTAIRE, by Mrs. Mozelle Scaff Allen____ 63 
WHITMAN'S 	BACKGROUND IN THE INDUSTRIAL MOVE­MENTS OF HIS TIME, by Mrs. Alice Lovelace Cooke__ 76 

CORRECTIONS IN THE PARIS MANUSCRIPT OF CHAUCER'S CANTERBURY TALES: A STUDY IN SCRIBAL COLLABORATION 
BY MARTIN MICHAEL CROW 
The following questions arise concerning the numerous and interesting corrections in the Paris manuscript of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales :1 How many hands can be de­
1The Paris manuscript, fonds anglais 39 of the Bibliotheque Na­tionale (hereafter referred to as Ps), belonged to the brother of Charles d'Orleans, Jean, comte d'Angouleme, who was a royal prisoner in England from 1412 to 1445. That the manuscript belonged to the Count is proved absolutely by the description of it in the 1467 in­ventory of his manuscripts. (See G. Dupont-Ferrier, "Jean d'Orleans, comte d'Angouleme, d'apres sa bibliotheque," Bibliotheque de la Faculte des Lettres de Paris [Paris, 1897], III, 64). If further proof of his ownership were needed, it is furnished by the corrections and table of contents made in the Count's known handwriting and by his coat of arms drawn inside a large capital U preceding the first word of the Prologue-the arms of France, with a lambel of three pendents, of which the :first bears a crescent. 
Ps is a paper quarto volume, with three leaves of parchment pre­ceding the text. There are eighty-three folios. The leaves measure 293 millimeters in height and 202 in breadth and have been ruled both vertically and horizontally. There are two columns to a page, with forty-five or forty-six lines to a column. Collation: twelves, Ql12 ­212; 3u; 412 -512; 610 (x blank after incipit for Melibeus, xi and xii lost); 712 (xii blank). The handwriting, English pointed charter or "court hand," and certain facts in the life of the original owner, Angouleme, date the manuscript as probably before 1430. So far as ornament of any kind is considered, it is a modest manuscript, having no illuminations and only an occasional rubric or an initial in blue. It is bound in red morocco, with the royal coat of the arms of France on the outside, and is in an excellent state of preservation. It con­tains only the CT, of which, besides several links, it lacks most of the Squire's and Monk's Tales and most of the Rime of Sir Tkopas, over six hundred lines of the Canon's Yeoman's Tale, all of the Cook's Tale, and the prose. Because of its numerous and striking unique variants, its complicated textual relationships, its Northern dialectical peculiar­ities, and its corrections in two hands, Ps is a most valuable manu­script for a study of the habits of medieval scribes. 
W. Gesenius, in an article published in Herrig's Arckiv in 1849 {V, 1-15), was apparently the :first scholar to draw attention to Ps. 
tected? Ifthere are more correctors than one, how do their purposes and methods differ? Are the corrections original, are they based upon the Paris exemplar, or are they based upon another manuscript than the exemplar? 
Without much difficulty it can be shown that there are two hands in the corrections. It is possible, moreover, in the majority of cases to identify the hands. The manu­script is written throughout by one scribe, who signs him­self at the end "Duxwurth Scriptor."2 Having the whole manuscript in which to study his neat, pointed, rather cur­sive charter hand, here adapted to book purposes, one can easily identify the same hand in the corrections, even though for lack of space the writing is somewhat cramped. For a study of the writing of the owner of the manuscript, Jean d'Angouleme, we have in his hand several works, e.g., Meditations of Petrarch and DWlogue of St. Anselm.8 Also, the writing in the table of contents of Ps agrees with the owner's known hand; here we have almost a complete alpha­bet, certainly contemporary with the corrections. Although Angouieme's hand is a pointed, cursive minuscule, like Dux­worth's, and although in writing between lines his hand is cramped and there are some differences due to difference in materials used, still certain characteristic letters noted in the manuscripts he copied stand out in the corrections and serve in the majority of cases to distinguish his writing 
In 1893, the Chaucer Society printed a specimen of the manuscript (Pardoner's Prologue and Tale). In 1898, Johannes Halfmann pub­lished a Kiel doctoral dissertation on Ps, Das a,uf der BibliotJr.eq?U zu Pa,ris befi:ndli,cke Manuscript der Canterbu'T'1J Tales. Halfmann's work on classification is now obsolete, his study of the unique variants is limit.ed to the compilation of a list, and he makes no attempt to analyze the corrections. 
For permission to use the invaluable material collected by Pro­fessors Manly and Rickert in the Chaucer Laboratory at the Univer­sity of Chicago as well as for their generous advice and assistance in the preparation of this study, I wish here to express my gratitude. 
2In Bib. Nat. MS Lat. 3436, Duxworth, or Duxwurth, gives his first name as Johannes. 8MSS Bib. Nat. Lat. 3436 and 3638. See Dupont-Ferrier, op. cit., pp. 78, 86. 
from Duxworth's. Such letters are a, b, c, g, h, q, s, w, and 
x. Small a in Angouleme's hand is made in two strokes, the left curved, while in Duxworth's hand a is made in three strokes and has a decidedly rectangular appearance. An­gouleme' s b has usually the top loop open; Duxworth's has usually the top loop closed. Angouleme's c has a long, straight stroke at the top, Duxworth's a broken line. An­gouleme's g has a right-angled cross at the northeast corner, a feature not seen in Duxworth's. Angouleme's h has the seeond, curved stroke always slightly separated from the upright shaft, while in Duxworth's h the two strokes are joined almost invariably. Angouleme's q, like his a, is made in two strokes and is more rounded than Duxworth's lette:r of three strokes. The tall s's of both scribes look alike, but Angouleme's round s, unlike Duxworth's, has a very small upper curve and a long connecting stroke, making it look like an o. Angouleme's w has two slanting strokes with a loop at the bottom of the second only; Duxworth's w has two slanting strokes with a loop at the bottom of each­two perfect v's. Angouleme's x is flattened, while Dux­worth's is a tall letter, compressed laterally. 
Having divided, according to the handwriting, the 420 corrections into two groups, Duxworth's and Angouleme's,4 one can make some attempt to analyze the habits and pur­poses of each corrector. 
(1) Duxworth' s Corrections 
Duxworth's corrections, about 120 in number, are evenly distributed through the manuscript until the end of group C is reached; from there on they are fewer. Being made by a professional scribe who takes pride in the appearance of his page, they appear as inconspicuous as possible. Inserted words almost invariably are written above a small caret, so regularly in fact that one may classify as Duxworth's any 
4There are, of course, some corrections (about five per cent) which must remain uncertain as to authorship, e.g., those which consist merely of a word stricken out as well as those words which are in­serted without a caret and in which no characteristic letter appears. 
correction over a caret. Examples may be seen in lines A146, A259, A771, A1437, A2410, A2988, A3543, B4, B307, B604, B1109, E848, El207, D601, Dl274, Dl982, C381, C670, Fl035, G581, G1465,5 etc. If the correction is made over a word or phrase stricken out, two carets may be used, one before and one after the deleted portion, e.g., lines B475 and F1256. Words may be expunged by underdotting, e.g., A2689 and E867, by a line drawn through lightly, e.g., Bl277 and D377,6 or by a combination of the two, e.g., A3143 and E2258. The corrected reading, instead of being placed between lines, may be placed just after the word stricken oet, e.g., D377. As Ps is a paper manuscript, there are no erasures, except a partial one in Bl069, where allaf is changed to all, the correct reading.7 Who made this correc­tion it is impossible to say. Transposition of lines Dux­worth indicates by letters b and a, in the margin, e.g., A495-98, A1411-13, and G1442-43. He rarely has occasion to insert whole lines; when he does, he writes the line in very small letters between the other lines, e.g., C420 and B1504. In the second example he had already written a spurious line, which he had to strike out. 
Duxworth's purpose in making corrections is almost al­ways to make the text conform with that of the manuscript by which he corrected, and as over 85 per cent of his cor­rections give readings now established as the right ones, he must have corrected by a very good manuscript, one cer­tainly much better than his exemplar. A large part of the corrections,-the insertion of omitted structural words such as that, in, as, of, and for, of auxiliary verbs such as &hal, 
11The system of line numbering is that used by Skeat. The order of parts in Psis A, Bl, El, D, E2, F, C, B2, G, and H. 
SBecause corrections made in these ways mar the page but little, they are, I think, Duxworth's. In the combination method, however, the lines, which are often heavy and black, may have been drawn later by Angouleme. 
7When I speak of the correct reading, I refer to the reading selected as the base on the Canterbury Tales collation cards, made under the direction of Professors Manly and Rickert at the University of Chicago. 
had, is, and was, of articles and pronouns, a, the, my, ye, he, thi, I, hir, etc.-he probably made by comparing with his exemplar after finishing his daily stint.8 Even more im­portant errors may well have been corrected by the exem­plar, e.g., bring, correct reading, accidentally skipped and inserted, Al851; made, correct reading, inserted, A2988; clerk, correct reading, inserted over carpenter, which had been picked up from the preceding line, A3143; pe lettirs, correct reading, inserted, B736; nedith, correct reading, in­serted, C670; hors, correct reading, inserted, H48. But cer­tain other corrections show, I think, that Duxworth made a second set of corrections from another manuscript, e.g., the correction of Arvaragus to Aurelius, Fl256 (an error also in Harley 1239, Ps's sister manuscript, and so no doubt in the Ps exemplar) ; insertion of a line omitted, C420 (as this line is omitted in Rawlinson Poetry 149, here closely related to Ps textually, it probably was lacking in the Ps exemplar also) ; insertion of a nearly correct line for a spurious one, B1504 (To seynt Denyse is comyn dan John changed to This fayre wyfe accordis9 with dan John). Certainly he 
would not have written a spurious line by accident if the right reading had been before his eyes. 
One would like to know what manuscript or manuscripts Duxworth used for his second set of corrections. This prob­lem is difficult, as almost all-all through A, Bl, El, D, E2, 
8Duxworth made other more minute corrections, no doubt, as he wrote, e.g., striking out ad after wharn, A135; adding r tower, A656; changing onward, correct reading, to outward, by placing a t over first part of w, A970 (I am not sure this one is not by Angouleme, how­ever, as it seems to have been made independently and for an edi­torial purpose, to avoid repetition of on); inserting r in morwenyng, A1062; inserting q in sqwwr, A1076; changing doddesse to goddesse, A2480; changing he to she, B475, by insertion of s; inserting r over caret in furst, B1053; striking out a d written too soon in D476; changing dedid to dedis, D1115; changing what to whan, D1571; striking out a w written too soon in Dl768; correcting an s to a b, F1071 (Fl070 begins and spryngyng while Fl071 begins and but) ; striking out reb written as first syllable of remembrance, F714; strik­ing out a b, C301; making k out of b in dronklew, El533; striking out a k before lykkyn, E1786. 
9Correct reading has past tense. 
F, and C-of the corrections that can be shown to be Dux­worth's, either give the correct reading or are unique and hence show nothing for classification. In B2 and G, how­ever, there are five corrections erroneous at least in part and showing agreement in error with large groups of manuscripts, but no conclusion as to classification ·can be drawn from this small amount of evidence. From the be­ginning of B2 on, the corrections not only show agreement in error with other manuscripts, but also rapidly decrease in number. At this point I think Duxworth must have shifted the exemplars used in making corrections. 
Duxworth shows, then, in his corrections very few edi­torial tendencies-is in fact truly a good professional scribe who copies as exactly as he can what is set before him; and this fact one must consider seriously before ascribing to him many of the unique variants and unique spurious lines which show a strong editorial tendency. A few of his unique corrections do appear, however, to be intended as editorial improvements as to the sense or as to the meter. Examples are see inserted over leons stricken out, B475, in an attempt to make some meaning out of this hopelessly corrupt line: And was with leons ferid ske myght not astert (Was with the leoun f rete er he asterte) ; .i. (id est) Cus­taunce, inserted over line B476; trewe inserted in E2427: I kave a (trewe) wyfe though she pouer be, apparently an attempt of Duxworth's to improve the meter, and not a very brilliant emendation either, as trew is used already in the preceding line.10 Also the unique correction in A2987 : The furst rnaner of cause (of god) above he seems to have made for metrical reasons. 
(2) Angouleme's Corrections 
In Angouieme's corrections we have a contrast to Dux­worth's, a contrast in method of making and in purpose. 
10It is interesting to note here that in E2426 finale is dropped from trewe (OE. treowe), but in E2427 it is retained. I think both were pronounced as monosyllables. 
First of all, Angouleme is not interested in concealing his corrections. Some of the very noticeable black lines drawn through words already neatly underdotted are, I believe, his work.11 On the other hand, he may not strike out a word for which he makes a substitution, e.g., nose over voyce, Al23; gnouf over chuffe, A3188. Most of his corrections are written between lines in ink much blacker than Dux­worth's, so that they stand out on the page. He does not use the caret to indicate place of insertion of interlinear corrections, but does use check marks to show where words written after the line should be inserted, e.g.: 
Allas fel Mars allas ,,Juno .rcruel (A1559) 
Sum held with "the blake herd "him ]>t hadde (A2517) 
Getyn "thise knedyng tubbys thre ,,in ]>s hous (A3564) 
But shortly til yt was "nyght "Very (A4103) 
Never for no wel "no wo ll'ne for (E971) 

If the word or words stricken out are the last in the line, the correction follows directly with no mark of insertion, 
e.g.: 
And eke to bringe wyfes in such fame blame (A3148) And lyve in welthe I can sey no bet 3ow no more (B176) 
One cannot study his method of inserting omitted lines, for he does not insert any; once when a couplet is omitted (A4091-92), however, he writes in the margin defectus. 
Angouieme's corrections, nearly 300 in number, are mostly in the consecutive groups, A, Bl, and El. Here he makes about 230 corrections, but apparently becomes tired and makes others only now and then through the remainder of the manuscript. His purposes are to clarify the mean­ing, to improve the meter, and to give readings from a bet­ter manuscript. Itis clear that he makes two sets of correc­tions, one with the aid of a manuscript and another without, for often where he detects omissions he inserts unique read­ings instead of which the correct readings could have as easily been inserted and with a still greater gain in metrical smoothness and clearness. Examples of Angouleme's unique 
11Examples: A1070, A3143, E668, etc. 
readings, with the omitted words of the correct readings, are: sowht To ferre halwys in sundry londys ( A14; couthe om.) mony For to pouer ordre for to gyve ( A225; un-, a om.) fast Poynaunt and redy in al his gere (A352; sharp and om.) gentil His herd as any fox was red (A552; sowe or om.) to 
Like a rake there was no calf sene (A592; y-om. in y-lyk) 
gret 
And therwith he his shulders spradde ( A678; over om.) 
in hie 
In al his welthe and al his pryde (A895; moste om.) 
almost 
Where ther knelyd in the way (A897; that, kye om.) 
hie 
Nought grevyth us your honour (A917; your glorie and om.) 

long Of maledy which he hadde enduryd (A1404; the om. before wkich) Allas fel Mars allas vJuno "'cruel (A1559; tkou, final e of felle om.) 
hier I wold dye present in hir sight (A1738; that om.) not Hath dampnyd yow I wil yt recorde (A1745; and om.) ps place Ther for to make and to devyse (A1901; the tkeatre om.) two Above hir hed dowys flikeryng (Al962; kir om.) souffret That have for the so mechil wo (A2352; care and om.) wel Of which Arcyta was agast ( A2424; soni-what kim is correct read­ing in place of was.) somhuat Al though yt be agayn his kynde ( A2451 ; that it om.) fader I am thyne al redy at thi wille (A2477; ayel om. or represented by al) hawe On eyther syde or slayn his make (A2556); elles om.) rode Thise two Thebans on either side (A2570; up om.) dronken What shal I say but this myllere (A3167; more om. before say) 
hende The which was clepid Absolon (A3313; that, y-prefix of clepid om.) 
pe pipel And praid to ryde agayn the queen (B391; hir for om. before to) 
wicht 
Criste whiche that is to every triacle ( B4 79; harm om.) 

again 
So be thi champion this day (B635; stronge om.) 

tendre 
Hire old fadir fostred she (E222; povre om.) 

pacient 
For thilk pouer Grisildis (E948; sely om.) 

suerd 
My pitous must smyte of thyn hed ( C226; hand om.) 

Even more editorial is Angouleme when he strikes out the correct reading and inserts a unique one, e.g.: 
gon
Arcyte is cold ther Mars his soule guye (A2815) 
criing
For no crye hir mayde couth hym calle (A3417) 
miknes 
Humblenesse hath slayn in hir al tyranny (B165) 
hwer 
With which men seen aftyr thei be blynde ( B553) 
my for 
The frute of every tale is to say (B706) 
foulle 
Of so horrible and so fendlich a creature (B751) 
pe emperour 

That he wold pray hir fadir especially ( B1081) 
may 
Ne chaunge my curage to any othir place (E511) 

and pe 
The strok of fortune or of adventure (E812) 
gold 
Of brasse that yif the coyn be fayre at eye (El168) 
wer 
Though thou pray Argus with his hundreth eyen (D358) 
of 
And with al maner obeisaunce and diligence ( E230) 

There are also a few examples of unique readings inserted by Angouieme in place of other unique or erroneous read­ings stricken out, e.g., listes for cyte, A2580. Or if a line 
Studies in English 
seems too long, part of the correct reading may be stricken out, presumably by Angouleme, e.g., syke and, A1600; thei, B144; dam, Bl84; dame, B431; me, B462; about, B879; rancour, E432. These examples furnish still further proof that he made "inspired" corrections. Numerous as these are, they amount to only 35 per cent of the whole number of his changes; nearly 50 per cent give the right reading, and the few remaining ( 15 per cent) show agreement in error with other manuscripts. 
Angouleme's inserted correct readings may be for omis­sions, e.g., make, A184; was, A293; pu, A1137; wer, All79; it am, A1460; have, A1624; strencth, A1948; gret, A2129; prefix re-, A2622; how, A2919; suche, A3254; herself, A3543; is, A3950; any, A3970; nose, A3974; ful A4057; to, A4072; very, A4103; wyth colde, BlOO; owder, B144; time, B149; trow, B222; tell, B247; fatal, B261; hom, B765; her­tis, El12; chie, E440; wife, E888; furst, D2284, etc. Sev­eral of these, it will be observed, are minor corrections the need for which would hardly be noticed without a close comparison between Ps and another manuscript. 
His inserted correct readings may also be in place of er­roneous readings stricken out, or intended to be stricken out, e.g., he for yt, A74; nose for voyce, A123; see for sooth, A276; beste for man, A1319; hi for his body, Al319; this nicht for ynough, A1615; gnouf for chuffe, A3188; arte for parte, A3209; apart for for his arte, A3210; as owder folk for and abyde, A3232; as dos for the frute callid, A3871 ; pane for peny, A3944; on for uppon, A3952; the for this, A3977; of all for uppon, A3988; way for estres, A4020; 6et for pat, A4038; selle hem for bye, B140; Jore for yit, Bl74; JOW no more for no bet, Bl75; yonge lordis for childes, E77; as for alle, El25; pe for that, E279; 6Wr for to, E660; che for he, E690; stouping for tender, El738; etc. It is clear that such minute changes on the one hand and such striking changes to make the correct reading on the other hand could not have been made without the aid of another manuscript. 
Sometimes he inserts the correct reading, but in the wrong place, usually making the word order unique, e.g., 
the insertion of gaf, A302; al, 1411; alwey, A3888; was, A3946; yee, E863. 
Several correct readings are the result of striking out an added word ; some of these corrections may well have been made by Angouleme, especially those made with a heavy, black line, showing no attempt at concealment, e.g., the de­letion of good, Al12; hero/, A1094; that, 1913; about, B879; maner, El185, etc. 
It is evident that the manuscript Angouleme used in mak­ing his corrections must have been a very good one, and it would be most interesting to find out something about its identity. To this end I have made a study of all the er­roneous corrections (forty-two) that show agreement with other manuscripts. But because the corrections are unim­portant in character and might occur independently to dif­ferent scribes, and because they show agreement with widely scattering manuscripts, no conclusion can be made as to the identity of the exemplar used in making cor­rections. 
(3) Spelling in the Ps Corrections 
A few examples of Angouleme's rather unusual spellings in his corrections and in the table of contents, also written by him, I am giving here. It will be noticed at once that his spelling is quite different from Duxworth's,12 a fact which tends to prove that scribes spelled according to their own systems. It might be argued that the Gount's spelling is taken from the manuscript which he used in making his corrections; but inasmuch as his peculiar spellings appear both in his unique corrections and in his right corrections, it would seem that they are his own. There is not much evidence from the words used in the corrections, or from their spelling, on which to base a conclusion concerning the dialect of the Count's English. A definite Northern influ­ence, however, is seen in the preservation of the guttural, ch as in Scottish, and of frequent Northern occurrence, as the spelling ow for o or oo. Some of the spellings show also 
12Duxworth's spelling is illustrated in the lines quoted above. 
Studies in English 
traces of French influence and what appears to be phonetic spelling. Others are merely rare or obsolete Middle Eng­lish spellings. 
(a) Examples that indicate Northern influence: 
goude (good, goode, god) ,1a A294 
goudli (goodly, goodlich), A2386 
owder (oother, other, -ir), A3232, B144 
nicht (nyght, ny;;t, night, ni;;t), Al615 
wicht (wight, wi;;t, wyght), B479 
knicht (knyght, knight, kny;;t), Table 
nich (neigh, nygh, ny), A3637 
strencth (strengthe, strengpe, strenght), A1948 
(b) Examples of what appear to be phonetic spellings,. influenced by French : 
hi (he, bee), A1319, A2542 (hi corrected to he, A74; he, A3501) 
miknes (mekenesse, meekenes), B165 
pipel (peple, pepel, -ul, poeple), B391 
priste (preeste, prest), Table 
chie (she, shee, sche), B440 
chipman (shipman, schipman), Table 
scuier (squier, squyer), Table 
ffranglin (frankeleyn) , Table 
ffisicien (phisicien, phicicien), Table 
somneur (sompnour, somonour, somynour), Table 
maniere (manere, maneere), A2296 
chanoine (chanon, chanoun), Table 
(c) Examples of obsolescent Middle English spellings: 
bier (here, her, beer), A338 
somhuat (somwhat, sumwhat), A2451 
hwer (where, wher), B553 
Subitan, subitantly, and history (for story) also show French influence, but as they do not appear in the correc­tions they are not included in the above table. 
1sThe spellings in parentheses are from Miss Mabel Dean's forth­coming spelling dictionary and show for comparison some of the forms found commonly in the better CT manuscripts. 
( 4) Conclusions 
The Paris manuscript has undergone at least four correct tions. One was made by Duxworth as he wrote, another made by him later, in part with the aid of the Ps exemplar probably, in part (especially from B2 on to the end) with the aid of another exemplar. Angouleme made a large num­ber of empirical revisions in A, Bl, and El, and a few through the remainder of the manuscript. Duxworth's work shows him to have been a professional copyist whose motto was neatness and-so far as the corrections prove--a fair degree of accuracy. Angouleme, on the other hand, was anxious to secure a readable text regardless of the ipsissima verba, though he would introduce readings from a better manuscript when one was available. It is clear, I think, that he had access to another manuscript. 
The corrections are especially valuable for a study of the habits of scribes, for here we have work labeled by the handwriting as done by this man or by that, and changes that we are sure were made purposely, barring such acci­dental slips as the insertion of a word in the wrong place. I have illustrated above the scribal habits of the Ps cor­rectors. Now let us suppose that Ps is to be used as an ex­emplar and see what errors another scribe might make in an attempt to copy Ps as corrected. Ifhe has no other manu­script for comparison, he must reproduce the numerous unique readings introduced by Angouleme without author­ity. When the correction consists merely in striking out a word, it might be entirely overlooked, especially when the aim of a scribe like Duxworth was to make the correction as unnoticeable as possible. Or such a correction as what to whan, D1571, made by adding a stroke to the t, might easily be overlooked. If an inserted word is put in the wrong place in a line, the copyist might fail to make the proper adjustment in order. If an inserted word is placed over another which is not stricken out, the copyist might write both words into the text. Or perhaps the inserted word is illegible or nearly so, e.g., the questionable reading outhir, Al928, read by some as outrage. When words are illegible the scribe would have good reason to see what another manuscript has; hence conflate or contaminated texts. Ps is practically free from marginal glosses or comments (an example is defectus, A4091) ; if these are present they might be incorporated as a part of the text. A scribe copy­ing Ps would not have any trouble about misplacing inserted lines, for Ps corrector writes them in between the other lines right where they belong, not on the margin or at the top or bottom of the column. A copier of Ps might, how­ever, easily overlook the corrector's marginal guides for transposition of lines, e.g., the letters ad b c, A495-98. 
These are some reasons why we have numerous variant readings in most medieval texts. 
"ALMOST DAMN'D IN A FAIR WIFE" 
BY ROBERT ADGER LAW 
No line in Shakespeare's Othello has given more trouble to the critics than has Iago's assertion (I.i.21) that Cassio is "a fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife." Furness in the Variorum Othello (1886) devotes five finely printed pages to various opinions, only to reach the conclusion that the problem is insoluble. Nor do more recent editors than Fur­ness seem to have been more fortunate. Herford in the Arden Shakespeare (revised by Alden, 1924, pp. 129-30) and Parrott in the Tudor Shakespeare (1912, p. 153) use almost the same words to state that no interpretation sug­gested is quite satisfactory. Mason in the Yale Shakespeare 
(1918, p. 132) suggests that "it may be a mere trick, an effective line put in for the moment, regardless of the later inconsistency." Other critics attempt to explain at least one word. 0. J. Campbell (Parrott-Telfer Shakespeare, Vol. III, 1931, p. 524) suggests that "wife" may mean "woman," referring specifically to Bianca, and generally to Cassio's susceptibility to women. Hardin Craig (Shake­speare, 1932, p. 795) takes another tack in his comment: "Possibly in Shakespeare's first version of the play Cassio had a wife, as he did in the source." More convincing is Brooke's interpretation, hesitantly set forth (Shakespeare's Principal Plays, Third Edition, 1935, p. 617), that Cassio's "qualities would be almost condemnable in a fair lady." My own gloss for the the line, independently arrived at, would be much the same as that of Tucker Brooke. In the ex­istent uncertainty I may be forgiven for a more detailed explanation. 
Analysis of the line indicates two sources of trouble. One, of course, is the word "wife," troublous because Cassio has no wife in the play, and scarcely to be explained by the fact that his prototype in the source is married. But a second disconcerting word is the little preposition. Why should Cassio be damned in a wife, fair or foul? Why should Iago 
Studies in English, 
give to "in" a causative sense? True, as later develops in the tragedy, the Lieutenant has a certain attachment to Bianca, presumably an unmarried woman of some physical charm. Yet Iago, who is about to urge upon Roderigo per­sistent courtship of another man's wife, would not at this moment condemn Cassio to eternal punishment for his much lighter sin. Besides, as several commentators have noted, Iago is in this speech denouncing Cassio as unsoldierly and inexpert in war. What has this to do with Bianca? 
In discussing the first word thus mentioned, more than one editor has expressed belief that "wife" here may have the word's original sense of "woman," as with Chaucer's "Wife of Bath," German Weib. So in Julius Caesar, 111.i.97: "Men, wives, and children stare, cry out and run." But no one, so far as I know, has tried to explain "in." Light on this word may be shed by a later line of the same play (II. i.167), where Cassio says of Iago: "You may relish him more in the soldier than in the scholar." Here evidently "in" means "as." Now substituting these two glosses for the troublesome words, we have, "A fellow almost damned as a fair woman." That is, Iago grows impatient over Cas­sio's alleged effeminacy. Does this fit the context? 
Iago is attacking Cassio as unpracticed in war. He goes on to say (I.i.23-4) that Cassio knows the division of a bat­tle no "more than a spinster." Later (I.iii.98) he calls Cassio a "proper" or handsome man, adding: 
He hath a person and a smooth dispose 
To be suspected, fram'd to make women false. 

In a later scene Iago sneers at Cassio's polite bearing to­wards Desdemona in that he kisses "his three fingers so oft," smiles at her, takes her hand, and curtsies (Il.i.168ff.). To Roderigo in this same connection Iago accuses Cassio 
(Il.i.241ff.) as "a knave very voluble; no further conscion­able than in putting on the mere form of civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing of his ... loose affec­tion." That is, he assumes a civility to cover his unholy desires. 
Thus Iago, a man of low antecedents and obscene think­ing, wholly jealous of Cassio, is strongly stirred by the Lieutenant's inbred courtesy. He is especially jealous when Desdemona plainly wearies of Iago's ribaldry concerning women in general and turns to converse with the gentle Cassio. For the possession of social graces Iago can never forgive his rival. It is the old story of the hard-boiled sergeant versus the West Point graduate. Iago, then, seems to be saying that as a woman Cassio is almost too effeminate for his role. 
A NOTE ON LYCIDAS, 91 
BY T. P. HARRISON, JR. 
When the herald Triton comes to plead his sire Neptune's case (91-92) : 
He asked the waves, and asked tke felon winds, 
What hard mishap hath doomed this gentle swain? 
"Felon" (LL. felo = a traitor) is defined by Jerram1 as cruel, "with the additional sense of criminal, the winds be­ing introduced as culprits about to be tried." Milton's phrase, he notes, is approached in Lyndsay's Monarchie, "that felloun flood." The N. E. D. cites Milton's line below the word defined as savage, wild, or (of weapons) murder­ous,· compare also an earlier authority, Douglas (Aeneis 4.10.19) ," felloun stormis of ire." 
In a similar connection Milton's phrase occurs in a Renaissance pastoral by Baif, Eclogue 15 (Damet)2: 
Ces gros monstres, Neptune, amene avec la mer 
Faisant de vents felons les vagues ecumer. 
Here the adjective as applied to winds simply means cruel or terrible,3 as Baif freely translates his model, the pseudo­Virgilian Dirae.4 In brief, the striking phrase "vents felons," its association with Neptune and his waves, these suggest a French source for Milton's "felon winds." 
1Tke 'Lycidas' and 'Epi,tapkium Damwnis', edited by C. S. Jerram, London, 1874. In no edition of Lycidas consulted have I found sug­gestions concerning a source for the passage in question. 
20euvres de Jan Antoine de Bai/, edited by Ch. Marty-Laveaux, III,. 
p. 82. 8F. Godefroy (Lexique de l'Ancien Frmu;ais, Paris, 1901) gives also meckant, violent. 4Dirae, 58-59: haec agat infesto Neptunus caeca tridenti, atrum convertens aestum maris undique ventis. 
Here "ventis" is unqualified, but in "vents felons" Baif transfers. to the word the force of the Latin "infesto" (threatening). 
EARLY EDITIONS OF LILLO'S "LONDON MERCHANT" 
BY R. H. GRIFFITH 
I 
The story of the early editions and early changes in text of the London Merchant was partly gathered and set down by Dr. A. W. (later Sir Adolphus) Ward in an edition of this and another play by George Lillo for the Belles Lettres series, published in Boston in 1906. The M erchant1 was first acted 22 June 1731; and Lillo, the author, died 3 Sep­tember 1739. Dr. Ward2 printed the text of the first edi­tion, and asserted that the second edition (also 1731) varies from it only in having "Second Edition" on the titlepage and in changing one word near the end, unalterable to un­utterable. He knew of a fourth edition (1732) and a sev­enth (1740), and of no other early editions. Accounting for his own text, he states: "The text of Scene xi, Act v, has been taken from the 'Seventh' Edition, 17 40, the first ac­cessible edition containing it." 
This Scene xi had not been printed in the first edition; in his Introduction (p. xv) Dr. Ward explained: 
In the first and second editions, both of which appeared in the year of first production of the play on the stage, the last act consists of eleven scenes, of which the tenth ends with Barnwell's departure to execution, and the eleventh is the short scene, which concludes the play in all editions, between Blunt, Lucy, and Trueman. The inter­vening scene, which is laid at the place of execution, with the gallows at the further end of the stage, appears to have been performed on the stage for several years, but then to have been laid aside, till it was reintroduced on the revival of the play at Bath in 1817. Genest 
10ften referred to as George Barnwell, because of the secondary title: The London Merchant: Or, The Hi.story of George Barnwell. 1731. 
In the composition of this article the writer has received substantial aid from Mr. Lawson Goggans, of The University of Texas. 21n the gathering of bibliographical details he was assisted by Pro­fessor George Pierce Baker, general editor of the Belles Lettres series. 
Studies in English 
(Some Account of tke English Stage, III, pp. 395-6) adds that the fifth "genuine edition" of the play was announced for publication on February 8, 1735 ( N .S.) , 'with a new Frontispiece, from an additional scene, never before printed.'3 [In a footnote Dr. Ward adds:] This [fifth] edition is not in the British Museum; and the scene is printed in the present volume from the edition of 1740. The frontispiece may be the original of the sorry woodcut prefixed to the reprint of George Barnwell in vol. ix of Cumberland's British Theatre (1826). All en­deavors to discover this edition or an engraving of a scene in the play have proved unsuccessful. 
So stood available printed information for nearly twenty years: the first edition, 1731; a "Second" edition, 1731,­both in octavo; a "Fourth" edition, 1732 ; and a "Seventh" edition, 1740. In 1925, Mr. Allardyce Nicoll listed a "Third" edition, 1731, in octavo, in the Hand-List of his History of Early Eighteenth Century Drama, 1700-1750. 
In 1935 the Merchant was reprinted in an anthology, Eng­lish Plays, 1660-1820, edited by Principal A. E. Morgan, of University College, Hull, England, in whose notes we are told of another octavo edition, also dated 1731, but bearing no name of publisher and looking like a piracy.4 Mr. Mor­gan assures us further that Dr. Ward was in error in say­ing that the second edition is so nearly like the first, since Lillo made revisions for the second edition and others again for the third. 
Some further information can now be set down in addi­tion to all that is given above. After a brief account of publishing conditions in the decade 1731-17 40, three more editions are to be listed ; and through them and those pre­viously known, we learn that the editions proceeded in two lines or streams,-the authorized, legitimate ones and the surreptitious, or pirated ones. 
3Dr. Ward's use of quotation marks about "genuine edition" indi­cated some puzzlement in his mind. The puzzlement can be excused, though Genest was right in using "the 5th genuine edition" to dis­tinguish the book from a pirated fifth edition, as will be explained later in this article. But the eminent doctor is not to be excused for garbling Genest by altering "February 8, 1734-5" to "February 8, 1735 (N.S.)." He was wrong, too, in thinking the intervening scene was acted before 1735; see Lillo's preface, quoted infra. 
4Mr. Morgan, p. 638, says the Third edition, 1731, is a duodecimo. 
II 
The Queen Anne copyright law (effective from 1711) had never given full protection to owners of copyrights ; and in the decade 1731-17 40 there were many instances of piracy, several lawsuits, and some bitter complaints against inva­sions of copyright ownership. The law was principally for the protection of the bookseller (publisher), but it was by incidence a help to authors, too. It did not extend to other countries ; and editions printed in Ireland or Holland and imported for the London market were sources of annoyance and considerable loss, for which state of affairs a remedy was sought in an act of 14 June 1739. Editions surrepti­tiously printed in England were real piracies. Edmund Curll, infamous in his own generation, is posthumously the most famous of the pirate publishers, but not the only one. 
Three contemporary outcries against the helplessness of authors and publishers may be quoted5 as samples of the many. Under the date of 11 May 1736 James Thomson wrote a letter to Aaron Hill : 
... With regard to arts and learning, one may venture to say, that they might yet stand their ground, were they but merely protected. In lieu of all patrons that have been, are, or will be in England, I wish we had one good act of parliament for securing to authors the prop­erty of their own works; ... And can it be, that those who impress paper with what constitutes the best and everlasting riches of all civilized nations and of all ages, should have less property in the paper, so enriched, than those who deal in the rags which make the paper! 
Hill replied on May 20 : 
... Would to God, you were in the right, in that part of your letter which wishes, in lieu of state patronage in favor of learning, that we had only some good act of parliament for securing to authors the property of their own works! 
Lillo affixed the following "Advertisement" to the Fifth edition of the London Merchant: 
5Spelling, punctuation, etc., are modernized. 
Studies in English 
The scene added in this Fifth Edition is, with some variation, in the original copy; but by the advice of some friends it was left out. in the representation, and is now published by the advice of others: which are in the right I shall not pretend to determine. There are amongst both, gentlemen whose judgment I prefer to my own. As. this play succeeded on the stage without it, I should not, perhaps, have published it but to distinguish this edition from the incorrect, pirated ones [with] which the town swarms,-to the great prejudice of the proprietors of the copy [copyright], as well as to all the fair traders, who scorn to encourage such unjust practices. 
I could not but reproach myself with ingratitude should I neglect. this opportunity of confessing my obligations and returning my thanks to the public in general, and my friends in particular, for their favorable reception of this piece. I am very sensible how much I owe to their indulgence, and wish I may be able by any future perform­ance, if any should appear, to deserve the continuance of their favor. 
III 
The three early editions of the Merchant that we are add­ing to the published lists are as follows : 
1733. The London Merchant: . . . . .. The Fifth Edition Corrected. London: Printed for J. Green, at the King's­Head, Cornhill. M.DCC.XXXIII. [Price I s. 6 
The price statement, ending at the right margin, omits half the bracket. Octavo, in half-sheets; signatures, 1 leaf, [A] -G, four leaves each, H, two leaves; pages, 2 (frontispiece), [i]-[viii], [9]-58, [59-60, prologue and epilogue]. The frontispiece, M Vanderbaiik, Inv., is a forest scene, with one man lying on the ground and another standing and dropping a dagger; illustrating Act III, scene iv. It is a cheap paper piracy. "J. Green," nominally the publisher, is not mentioned in the ordinary lists of booksellers and printers, and is otherwise unknown to us; he may be, but probably is not, a myth, as the "D. Green" of the first edition of Dryden's Mac Flecknoe is sus­pected to be. The John Gray who published the first edition, was a reputable bookseller, and paid Lillo one hundred ·guineas for the copyright of the play. 
1735. The London Merchant: . . . . . . The Sixth Edi­tion. London: Printed for John Gray, at the Cross Keys in the Poultry, near Cheapside. MDCCXXXV.7 
61n The University of Texas Library, Aitken Collection Additions~ 11n the private library of R. H. G. 
Early Editions of Lilla's ''London Merchant" 
Duodecimo, in half-sheets; signatures A-F, six leaves each; pages [i]-70; [71-72, prologue and epilogue]. The frontispiece, L. P. Boi­tard Inv. et Sculp., is the first leaf of signature A, and depicts Barn­well and Millwood being led, amidst a crowd of spectators, to the gallows, which shows in the background; it illustrates the added scene, designated in this edition "Scene the Last." 
The Sixth Edition is not a real edition at all, but is merely unsold sheets of the Fifth Edition (the legitimate Fifth), with the old title­leaf canceled and a newly printed one substituted; the stub of the new one shows between leaves four and five, and in the new leaf the chain-lines run vertically, whereas chain-lines run horizontally in all other leaves, as they should do in a 12mo. Note also the first line of Lillo's "Advertisement," quoted above. 
The change of title-leaf may have been dictated by business com­mon sense as a device to overcome the competition of the piratical Fifth Edition. 
1737. The London Merchant: . . . . .. The Eighth Edi­tion. Much more correct than any of the former, with sev­eral Additions and Improvements by the Author. London: Printed for J. Cooper, at Shakespear's Head in Pall-Mall. M.DCC.XXXVII.s 
Duodecimo; signatures A-C, twelve leaves each; pages [1]-70; [71-72, epilogue]. The frontispiece, leaf one of signature A, carries no name on it; it is from a re-engraved plate, in reverse, of the frontispiece of the Fifth-Sixth edition, and is a smaller, poorer pic­ture. The text and divison into acts and scenes are as in the Sixth Edition. 
This Eighth Edition is pretty certainly a piracy, and tells an un­truth on the titlepage. The J. Cooper of this book is not to be con­fused with Thomas Cooper, of Pater-noster Row, a reputable and enterprising bookseller in 1737. 
With the addition of these three editions to previously pub­lished lists, scholarship is left with the task of locating copies of the legitimate Fifth Edition and of the putative piratical Second, Third, Fourth, and Seventh editions, and possibly a piratical Sixth Edition. 
81n the Library of Congress; kindly lent to The University of Texas Library to be collated. 
BELINDA'S GAME OF OMBRE 
BY EDWARD G. FLETCHER 
Some at least of Pope's contemporaries must have been aware that Belinda's game of ombre in The Rape of the Lock (Canto III, lines 25-98) is realistic, that the game de­scribed was a real game which anyone can play out for himself with a pack of ombre cards if he uses his ingenuity to supply the details Pope omitted. Richard Seymour, in­deed, may have realized this, for at the end of the section on ombre in The Court Ga-mester he remarks: "Thus have I given all the Laws relating to Ombre; yet, cannot conclude this Article, without transcribing from Mr. Pope's Rape of the Lock, the beautiful Description he has given, of the Manner of playing this Game (between Belinda and her Two Knights at Hampton-Court) in the following excellent Lines."1 He made no suggestions for playing out Belinda's game, however, and no one seems to have pointed out in print that this was possible until an anonymous writer2 published an article3 in Macmillan's Magazine for January, 187 4, on "Pope's Game of Ombre." He quoted Pope, gave the rules of ombre, and then explained in detail what hands the players in Belinda's game might have held and how they might have been played. 
Later in the same year Henry H. Gibbs published two hundred copies of his book, The Game of Ombre. Borrow­ing the idea from the Macmillan article, in a supplementary chapter he also showed how Belinda's game could be played out. He did not, however, merely repeat or enlarge on the description of the game in Macmillan's. In that article the anonymous third player is the dealer and does not exercise 
1P. 65. I quote from a 1732 London edition. There were at least four other editions by 1732, and under the title, The Compleat Game­ster, at least three more by 1750. 
2Gibbs identified him in the last edition of his book (p. viii) as "I believe ... a well-known writer on Whist (Dr. Pole)." 3Pp. 262-269. 
his right to discard. As Gibbs played out the game, the Baron is the dealer, and the third player uses his privilege of discarding. As a result the two games, except for the details Pope has fixed, are unlike. In 1878 there was a second edition, containing corrections and improvements, and printed for private circulation, of one hundred copies of Gibbs's book, in which the supplementary chapter was brought into the body of the book as chapter viii. Fred­erick Ryland's edition of the Rape (Glasgow, 1899), which I have not seen, contained an appendix on the game. In 1902 Gibbs (Baron Aldenham since 1896) published at Aldenham one hundred and fifty copies of a third edition of his work, privately circulated as a Roxburghe book, con­taining "some further amendments and . . . some new de­velopments of Belinda's Game."4 George Holden's edition of the poem (Oxford University Press, 1909 and 1924) con­tains an appendix on the game derived from Gibbs's ac­count. It may be that some of the school editions of the poem (not known to me) have also discussed the game in 
detail. 
What I am concerned with here is that neither of the re­constructed games as played out by the author of the article in Macmillan's and by Gibbs fulfills all of Pope's description. Neither one meets the requirements of lines 37-44, which plainly state that the hands of the three players at the moment they are ready to begin, that is, after their discard­ing, hold, together, all the Kings, Queens, and Jacks. In both reconstructions the Queen of Clubs is never dealt, and remains one of the cards at the bottom of the stock (or "talon," those cards that remain after the first deal of nine cards apiece). Furthermore, neither one meets the require­ment of line 79, which clearly calls for the playing of Dia­monds, Hearts, and Clubs in tricks six and seven. In both, only Diamonds and Hearts are played in those tricks. Lamb's Mrs. Battle, some time early in the nineteenth century, played over for her author "with the cards" 
4P. vii. 
Belinda's game, 5 and was certainly too good a card player to need any help from a book to do so. But ever since the middle century days of Peacock's Miss Ilex, who in spite of following Pope's description of the game carefully, never­theless misunderstood it,6 most persons in the attempt to understand it have had to follow the author of the Mac­millan article or rely on Gibbs. The discrepancies of these with the fixed details of Pope's description do not seem, however, to have been hitherto noted. 
Now it is not difficult to modify the details of these two reconstructions of Belinda's game so as to correct the two points in which they are in error. I propose to do this. Holden's edition of the Rape is out of print ;7 and neither the Macmillan article nor Gibbs's book is available to many. I shall not give the rules of the game except incidentally; I shall hardly refer to the somewhat complicated scoring 
(different shaped counters were used; one kind, fish, were long or fish-shaped); and I shall borrow extensively from the accounts in the magazine and in Gibbs's book. Within the limits of freedom allowed by Pope, I shall arbitrarily assign cards and plays to each player. My two reconstruc­tions differ somewhat from those I am in general following. On the whole, however, I follow my sources except for changes to remedy the two defects I have noted in them. 
Let us begin, then, following the play of the game as de­scribed in Macmillan's. The three players are seated around a three-sided, or perhaps a small, round ombre table, on 
sShe had played quadrille, a four-hand development of ombre, in her youth. The reader may remember that Lamb had never seen Sarah Battle "take out her snuff-box when it was her turn to play; or snuff a candle in the middle of a game; or ring for a servant, till it was fairly over. She never introduced, or connived at, miscellaneous conversation during its process." She ought, then, to have liked ombre, for Seymour states (London ed., 1732, p. 7) that even an ex­pert ombre player "will be apt to fall into Mistakes, if he thinks of any thing else, or is disturbed by the Conversation of those that look on. Attention and Quietness are absolutely necessary, in order to play well." 
6Gryll Grange, 1861, chapter xxiii (Halliford Edition, 1924, p. 238). 
71 have myself a new edition of the poem in preparation. 
top of which is apparently some sort of velvet covering, the Baron to the left and Belinda to the right of the Anonymous Knight. The forty cards of the ombre pack (an ordinary pack without the eights, nines, and tens) have been shuffled and cut, and the Anonymous Knight (the A. K. hereafter) first places five fish in the pool, and then deals nine to each, three at a time, beginning at his right with Belinda. He puts the rest of the pack (it is now the stock) face down on the table, and the players look at their hands.8 
Belinda has0 the Ace of Spades ( Spadille, a Matadore) , the five of Hearts, the two of Diamonds, the three of Dia­monds, the seven of Diamonds, the Ace of Clubs (Basto, a Matadore), the King of Clubs, the five of Clubs, the three of Clubs. The Baron has the Jack of Spades, the seven of Spades, the five of Spades, the four of Spades, the seven of Hearts, the King of Diamonds, the four of Diamonds, the four of Clubs, the two of Clubs. The A. K. has the six of Spades, the three of Spades, the Jack of Hearts, the three of Hearts, the four of Hearts, the six of Hearts, the Jack of Clubs (Pam), the seven of Clubs, the six of Clubs. 
STo account for the way I have listed the cards held by the players, and to explain why Aces do not always take tricks, it is necessary to point out that the order and the value of the cards in ombre is not the same in the red and in the black suits, and, furthermore, that the normal order and value of a suit is altered when the suit becomes trumps. In black suits not trumps the order of the cards from highest to lowest is Ace, King, Queen, Jack, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two. In red suits not trumps the order of the cards is King, Queen, Jack, Ace, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven. When a red suit is trumps, the order of the cards is Ace of Spades ( Spadille, always a trump and always first honor, a Matadore) , the Seven (Manille, sec­ond honor, lowest card in a red suit when the suit is not trumps, a Matadore), Ace of Clubs ( Basto, always a trump and always third honor, a Matadore), Ace, King, Queen, Jack, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six. When a black suit is trumps, the order of the cards is Ace of Spades, the Two (lowest card in a black suit when the suit is not trumps), Ace of Clubs, King, Queen, Jack, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three. Matadores have a peculiar privilege as trumps. A Matadore does not have to be played so as to follow suit when a trump is led unless the trump played is superior to the Matadore. 
9The cards to be discarded are italicized. 
Belinda, as the elder hand (on the right of the dealer),. has the first chance at being the Ombre. With two Mats and a King, rather adventurously, and counting too much on what she may draw from the stock, she asks leave, or says, "I play." Neither the Baron, who is the next player, nor the A. K. considers his hand strong enough to play Voltereta (Whim) 10 or Sans Prendre (Solo, an engagement of the Ombre to win the game without discard) .11 This makes Belinda the Ombre, with the privilege of deciding what suit shall be trumps, and of discarding any number of cards she pleases and replacing them with an equal number of cards -from the top of the stock. She must play against the other two, and to win the game must take more tricks than either of her opponents. Five tricks will win the game for her, or four, if her opponents win two each or three and one. 
Belinda says, "Let Spades be trumps" (it is a serious weakness of the Macmillan description that with the cards allotted her she ought to have chosen Clubs), and discards five of her cards (the ones italicized in her original hand). The Baron, who next has the right to discard, is easily her strongest opponent with four trumps and a King; he dis­cards his other four cards. The A. K. hasn't a very good hand. He realizes that the best he can do is to make a sin­gle trick and so by holding, if possible, a balance (four tricks each) between the other two, prevent Belinda from winning and emptying the pool, and, besides that, make her double the pool for the next game. He already has a re­nounce (no cards) in Diamonds and two small trumps; by discarding he runs the risk of spoiling his renounce. Con­sequently he does not discard at all. This leaves four un­used cards in the stock: the two of Hearts, the Ace, five, and six of Diamonds. 
10The Baron would have had an excellent hand if he had played Voltereta, drawing as the Ombre the two of Spades (Manille), the King of Spades, the Queen of Hearts, and the Queen of Clubs, with Spades, the top card of the stock, determining trumps. 
11Probably the only choice was to play Sans Prendre. Voltereta 
does not seem to have been much practiced in England. 
The hands as re-arranged after the discards are these.12 Belinda holds the Ace of Spades (Spadille, a Matadore), the two of Spades (Manille, a Matadore), the King of Spades, the King of Hearts, the Queen of Hearts, the five of Hearts, the Ace of Clubs (Basto, a Matadore), the King of Clubs, the Queen of Clubs. The Baron has the Queen of Spades, the Jack of Spades, the seven of Spades, the five of Spades, the four of Spades, the Ace of Hearts, the King of Diamonds, the Queen of Diamonds, the Jack of Diamonds. The A. K. has the six of Spades, the three of Spades, the Jack of Hearts, the three of Hearts, the four of Hearts, the six of Hearts, the Jack of Clubs (Pam), the seven of Clubs, the six of Clubs. 
Belinda has been fortunate in what she drew from the stock, and may fairly expect to win. The Baron also holds a good hand and may hope to win Codille, which will happen if he, instead of the Ombre, wins the game. It is Belinda's lead, as the Ombre. The play goes as follows : 
Trick I. Belinda leads Spadille (the Ace of Spades) ; the Baron plays the four of Spades; the A. K. plays the three of Spades. 
Trick II. Belinda leads Manille (the two of Spades) ; the Baron plays the five of Spades; the A. K. plays the six of Spades. 
Trick III. Belinda leads Basto (the Ace of Clubs) ; the Baron, following suit (for Basto is always the third best trump card), plays the seven of Spades; the A. K. plays the seven of Clubs. 
Trick IV. Belinda leads the King of Spades; the Baron plays the Jack of Spades; the A. K. plays the Jack of Clubs (Pam). Belinda must now be getting anxious, for she has made her four certain tricks, and one more will win her the game. 
Trick V. Belinda leads the King of Clubs; the Baron, 
having no Clubs, trumps it with his Queen of Spades ; the 
A. K. plays the three of Hearts. 
12The new cards drawn from the stock are italicized. 
Trick VI. The Baron now has a chance to bring in his fine suit of Diamonds, and leads the King. The A. K. plays the six of Clubs ; Belinda, the five of Hearts. 
Trick VII. The Baron leads the Queen of Diamonds ; the 
A. K. plays the four of hearts; Belinda plays the Queen of 
Clubs. Trick VIII. The Baron leads the Jack of Diamonds; the 
A. K. plays the six of Hearts; Belinda plays the Queen of Hearts. Belinda may now well turn livid pale. If the Baron's last card is anything but a Heart she is lost, and if she loses the game, as Ombre she will have to put into the pool an amount equal to what it already contains, five points more for each player, including herself, and pay four points to each of her adversaries, the amount for her honors (Spadille, Manille, Basto, and the King of Spades) which they will each have to pay her for her honors if she wins. 
Trick IX. The Baron leads the Ace of Hearts ; the A. K. plays the Jack of Hearts, with which he has perhaps been hoping to win the last trick and so make the game a draw; Belinda takes the trick with her King. Belinda wins the game with her five tricks, empties the pool, and is paid five points by each Knight for winning the game besides four points by each (possibly guineas in a royal palace) for her honors.13 
1SThe reader who wishes to play out the game for himself will find it a help to arrange the cards before dealing them (as the A. K.) in the following order (I begin with the card at the bottom of the pack, face down on the table) : the five of Diamonds, the two of Hearts, the six of Diamonds, the Ace of Diamonds, the Ace of Hearts, the Jack of Diamonds, the Queen of Diamonds, the Queen of Spades, the King of Hearts, the Queen of Hearts, the Queen of Clubs, the King of Spades, the two of Spades, the Jack of Hearts, the six of Hearts, the four of Hearts, the four of Diamonds, the two of Clubs, the four of Clubs, the seven of Diamonds, the three of Diamonds, the two of Diamonds, the six of Clubs, the three of Hearts, the Jack of Clubs, the seven of Hearts, the King of Diamonds, the Jack of Spades, the three of Clubs, the five of Clubs, the five of Hearts, the seven of Clubs, the six of Spades, the three of Spades, the seven of Spades, the 
Now let us play out the game another way, following Gibbs's account of it. This time the Baron is the dealer.14 He pays his five points into the pool and deals the following hands: Belinda gets the Ace of Spades (Spadille, a Mata­dore), the King of Spades, the two of Spades (Manille, if a black suit is trumps), the King of Hearts, the seven of Hearts, the two of Diamonds, the three of Diamonds, the four of Diamonds, the King of Clubs. The A. K. has the six of Spades, the four of Spades, the Jack of Hearts, the two of Hearts, the three of Hearts, the six of Hearts, the seven of Clubs, the six of Clubs, the five of Clubs. The Baron has the Queen of Spades, the Jack of Spades, the five of Spades, the three of Spades, the five of Hearts, the King of Dia­monds, the seven of Diamonds, the four of Clubs, the two of Clubs. 
Belinda finds she has a promising· hand in Spades, which with her two other Kings justifies her venture, "I play." The A. K. has too poor a hand to do anything but pass ; so he says, "Well." The Baron also, though he has a pretty good hand, discreetly yields the field, and says, "Well." Belinda then cries, "Let Spades be trumps," and discards the four cards.15 The A. K., aware of the poorness of his hand, not wishing to spoil his friend's choice (he is now leagued with him against the Ombre) , and wishing to reveal to the Baron that he makes no pretense to beating the Ombre himself, allows the Baron the next chance at the stock. The Baron discards four cards. This leaves five cards in the stock for the A. K. He might properly refused to discard, fearing lest he get some high cards which might force him 
five of Spades, the four of Spades, the King of Clubs, the Ace of 
Clubs, the Ace of Spades. 
Hin the third edition of his book Gibbs made the A. K. the dealer. 
The only difference from the following description this involves, since 
he gave each player the same cards as in the earlier editions, is that 
the A. K. does not have to yield the right of discarding to the Baron, 
who exercises it of right after Belinda, and that the order of play for 
the first five rounds is Belinda, the Baron, the A. K. 
15As before, the cards the players discard are italicized in the 
lists of the cards in their original hands. 
to take a couple of tricks and so perhaps insure the Ombre of victory. Already having a renounce in Diamonds, let us suppose he also tries for a renounce in Clubs, to give him­self a better chance of winning the one trick he wishes to make. He discards his three of Clubs. This leaves only two cards in the stock, the Ace and five of Diamonds. 
The hands now stand as follows :16 Belinda holds the Ace of Spades (Spadille, a Matadore), the two of Spades (Man­ille, a Matadore) , the King of Spades, the King of Hearts, t}ie Queen of Hearts, the Ace of Clubs (Basto, a Matadore), the King of Clubs, the Queen of Clubs, the three of Clubs. The A. K. has the six of Spades, the four of Spades, the Jack of Hearts, the two of Hearts, the three of Hearts, the four of Hearts, the six of Hearts, the six of Diamonds, the Jack of Clubs (Pam). The Baron has the Queen of Spades, the Jack of Spades, the seven of Spades, the five of Spades, the three of Spades, the Ace of Hearts, the King of Diamonds, the Queen of Diamonds, the Jack of Diamonds. 
Trick I. Belinda leads Spadille (the Ace of Spades); the 
A. K. plays the four of spades ; the Baron plays the three of Spades. 
Trick II. Belinda leads Manille (the two of Spades) ; the A. K. plays the six of Spades; the Baron plays the five of Spades. 
Trick III. Belinda leads Bas to (the Ace of Clubs) ; the 
A. K. plays the six of Diamonds; the Baron plays the seven of Spades. 
Trick IV. Belinda leads the King of Spades; the A. K. plays the Jack of Clubs (Pam); the Baron plays the Jack of Spades. 
Trick V. Belinda leads the King of Clubs; the A. K. 
plays the two of Hearts; the Baron trumps with the Queen 
of Spades. 
Trick VI. The Baron leads with the King of Diamonds; Belinda plays the three of Clubs; the A. K. plays the four of Hearts. 
16As before, the new cards each player draws are italicized. 
Trick VII. The Baron leads the Queen of Diamonds; Belinda plays the Queen of Clubs ; the A. K. plays the three of Hearts. 
Trick VIII. The Baron leads the Jack of Diamonds; Belinda plays the Queen of Hearts; the A. K. plays the six of Hearts. 
Trick IX. The Baron leads the Ace of Hearts ; Belinda plays the King of Hearts ; the A. K. plays the Jack of Hearts. Belinda wins the pool, five points from each player for the game, and four points from each for her honors.11 
I pretend to no expert theoretical know ledge of the rules of ombre nor to an experienced player's knowledge of them. It may be the hands I have given the players, or the plays I have ascribed to them (usually following, as I have said before, Pole and Gibbs) can be soundly criticized on tech­nical or practical grounds. With those hands and those plays, however, the two games fit Pope's description. A number of other hands and plays could be worked out which would also fit Pope's account, some of which would probably be better than those I have used. Ombre is one of the few card games for three, and, it is said, perhaps the only card game for three in which a fourth may also -play if desired with no injury to the game. Gibbs calls it "the 
11The reader who wishes to play out this game for himself will find it a help to arrange the cards before dealing them (as the Baron) in the following order (I begin with the card at the bottom of the pack, face down on the table) : the Ace of Diamonds, the five of Diamonds, the four of Hearts, the Jack of Clubs, the six of Diamonds, the Ace -0f Hearts, the Jack of Diamonds, the Queen of Diamonds, the Seven of Spades, the Queen of Hearts, the Queen of Clubs, the three of Clubs, the Ace of Clubs, the four of Clubs, the five of Hearts, the two -0f Clubs, the six of Clubs, the five of Clubs, the seven of Clubs, the two of Diamonds, the seven of Hearts, the three of Diamonds, the seven of Diamonds, the King of Diamonds, the Queen of Spades, the J'ack of Hearts, the six of Hearts, the three of Hearts, the four of Diamonds, the King of Hearts, the King of Clubs, the Jack of Spades, the five of Spades, the three of Spades, the two of Hearts, the six of Spades, the four of Spades, the King of Spades, the two of Spades, the Ace of Spades. 
Studies in English 
delight of our forefathers and foremothers, the most divert­ing and the most skilful of games." I suggest that any reader who has followed me to the last sentence might spend his time worse than by mastering it and by working out, as I do not pretend to have done, a classic technical description of Belinda's classic game. 
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL ELEMENTS IN HAWTHORNE'S 
THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE 
BY ARLIN TURNER 
Hawthorne more than once disavowed having introduced anything of autobiography into his writings. In the intro­duction to Mosses from an Old Manse (1846) he writes: "So far as I am a man of really individual attributes I veil my face; nor am I, nor have I ever been, one of those supremely hospitable people who serve up their own hearts, delicately fried, with brain sauce, as a titbit for their beloved public."1 But at other places he admits the presence of something of autobiography in his writings and apologizes for introduc­ing himself too often. In the dedication of The Snow­Image and Other Twice-Told Tales he writes: "I have taken facts which relate to myself, because they chance to be near­est at hand, and likewise are my own property."2 In reality we learn from Hawthorne's notebooks that as early as 1835, if not earlier, he began to observe definitely with the inten­tion of cultivating his observation and of storing up matter for his future writing. Occasionally he jotted down notes of characters and incidents which he expected to use; at other times he wrote out detailed descriptions of scenes or of persons, which he could transfer almost bodily to his sketches and tales.3 
It is reasonably certain, therefore, that The Blithedale 
Romance was largely autobiographical in its origin.4 From 
1Hawthorne's Works, IV, 44; see also III, xix-xx. The text of 
Hawthorne's works which I have used for this article is the "Old 
Manse" edition, edited by Rose Hawthorne Lathrop and Horace E. 
Scudder, and published in twenty-two volumes at Boston in 1900. This 
edition will hereafter be referred to by volume and page, without 
further designation. 
21II, xx; see also VI, 1-3. 
asee XVIII, 277. 
4Qthers who have commented on the possible sources of The Blitke­
dale Romance are Professor George E. Woodberry, who bolds (Na­
thaniel Hawtlwrne, Boston, 1902, p. 229) that it is improbable that 
his own experiences at Brook Farm, Hawthorne drew the chief characters, including Coverdale, Priscilla, and Zeno­bia, together with such elements of setting as Coverdale's hermitage, Eliot's Pulpit, and the house at Blithedale; and a number of incidents, among them Priscilla's riding the ox and her upsetting the load of hay, Coverdale's arrival and his sickness, his farewell to the pigs, and the picnics and masquerades. From other sources than Brook Farm Hawthorne drew the character of Old Moodie, the scenes in 
Hawthorne int.ended any one of the characters of his novel as "a portrait of any real person," but who concedes that a few minor suggestions may have come from Hawthorne's acquaintances; George Parsons Lathrop, who scouts the idea (A Study of Hawthorne, Bos­ton, 1876, pp. 196-198) that even Priscilla owed anything to an actual person; Emerson, who expressed the opinion in his Life and Letters in New England (Works, ed. Edward Waldo Emerson, Boston, 1883;X, 364) that no one could recognize Margaret Fuller in Zenobia; Rose Hawthorne (VIII, xx), Julian Hawthorne ("The Salem of Haw­thorne," The Century Magazine, XXVIII, 8 (May, 1884), and L. 
Dhaleine (N. Hawthorne, Sa Vie et Son OEwvre, Paris, 1905, p. 221), each of whom holds that none of the characters, with the possible ex­ception of Priscilla, owed anything to members of the Brook Farm community; and Stuart P. Sherman (Americans, New York, 1922, p. 131), Henry James (Hawthorne, New York, 1879, pp. 130-131), Frances Gribble ("Hawthorne from an English Point of View," The Critic, XLV, 65, (July, 1904)), and Granville Hicks ("A Conversation in Boston," The Sewanee Review, XXXIX, 138 (April-June, 1931)), all of whom concede that Zenobia may have been based partially on Margaret Fuller. See also St.ewart, Randall, The American Note­books by Nathaniel Hawthorne, New Haven, 1932, p. xix; Swift, Lindsay, Brook Farm, Its Members, Scholars, and Visitors, New York, 1908, p. 165; Montegut, :Emile, "Un Romancier Pessimiste en Amer­ique," Revue des Deux Mondes, XXVllI, 689 (August 1, 1860; and "Un Roman Socialiste en Amerique," Revue des Deux Mondes, XVI, 812, 818 (December 1, 1852). 
All these writers have stated in passing that Hawthorne used cer­tain materials from his experiences at Brook Farm in composing The Blithedale Romance; but no one hitherto, so far as I know, has com­pared the details of the romance with information from the author's notebooks and other sources regarding his life at Brook Farm in an effort to determine the nature and extent of the autobiographical elements. 
the saloon and at the city boarding houses, and the account of the drowning of Zenobia. 
1. Clearly The Blithedale Romance was first planned with the Brook Farm community as a basis; for Hawthorne wrote 
W. B. Pike just before beginning the book: "When I write another romance, . . . I shall give some of my experiences and observations at Brook Farm."5 But since the story was so obviously founded on the Brook Farm experiment, with which many Americans of the time were already acquainted, Hawthorne felt the need for explaining the nature of his use of his materials. He states in the preface that he em­ploys his recollections of the socialistic community just as he uses fictitious material, that "his whole treatment of the affair is altogether incidental to the main purpose of the romance," but that he hopes by using his own recollections to give "a more lifelike tint to the fancy sketch in the fol­lowing pages."6 The reason for setting the story at Brook Farm, he says, is that his stay at the Roxbury community was "certainly the most romantic episode of his life," and that the community affords in part the "suitable remote­ness" and the "atmosphere of strange enchantment," "be­tween fiction and reality," which older countries so abun­dantly possess, but which America lacks.7 Because the characters of The Blithedale Romance are on the whole not presented favorably, Hawthorne thought it essential to forestall any attempt to find prototypes for them among his associates at Roxbury; all the characters, he avers, "might have been looked for at Brook Farm, but, by some accident, never made their appearance there."8 
5VIII, x. For aid in obtaining supplementary material on the theoretical phases, he borrowed, as he tells us in the same connection, some of Fourier's work from his neighbor, a Mr. Tappan. 
avnI, xxix. 7For Hawthorne's belief that a romance must be laid in an at­mosphere of more romance and unreality than America affords, see also VII, xxi-xxii, IX, xxiii-xxiv, and Fields, James T ., Y esterda.ys witk Authors, Boston, 1889, pp. 55-56. sv111, xxxi. 
In view of this open declaration that the characters in The Blithedale Romance were creatures only of his imagina­tion, and of his son's statement that Hawthorne laughed at those who believed that Coverdale represents the author himself and that Zenobia had Margaret Fuller for an orig­inal,9 one must be cautious about identifying the characters in the book with the people of Brook Farm. Nevertheless, Coverdale is surely an autobiographical character, and all the other chief characters are no less surely based upon prototypes found at Brook Farm. 
The autobiographical method of presenting The Blithe­dale Romance makes Coverdale the spokesman of the author throughout, and hence he is the one responsible for the auctorial comment; but in addition, many of his experiences and attitudes correspond very closely to those of Haw­thorne. To begin with, Coverdale and Hawthorne obviously occupied similar positions in the world. Both were bache­lors somewhat advanced in age, and both had spent some time in a socialistic community, making occasional visits to the city. Both were men of letters. Likewise, Cover­dale's relation to the world-that of a spectator who studies the souls of his associates-is identical with what Haw­thorne recognized as his own, and frequently attributed to himself.1° Coverdale continually analyzes his friends, just as Hawthorne does repeatedly in his writings; moreover, both men are conscious of this trait and mention it often.11 It will be noticed that the same attitude is looked upon by Coverdale and his associates in the same unfavor­able light as Hawthorne looked upon his position as observer and intruder into human souls. Coverdale is a sort of recluse who, by virtue of his attitude, cannot be happy; his study of souls is often contrary to his own interests, and at times it is dangerous.12 
9flawthorne, Julian, "The Salem of Hawthorne," Tke Century 
Magazine, XXVIII, 8 (May, 1884). 
10See I, 260; IJ, 272; IV, 125-127; V, 112; VII, 259; XVII, 267. 
11see VIII, 118, 224, 228-229, 305. 
12v1n, 96, 243. 
On the whole, Coverdale's views on Blithedale and the project undertaken by its members coincide with Haw­thorne's conception of Brook Farm. Each joined the com­munity expecting to make his permanent home there.13 But Hawthorne attributes to Coverdale at the beginning the doubts and misgivings as to the success of the socialistic community which he himself did not admit until he had been at Brook Farm some weeks, and his enthusiasm had been dampened by just such experiences as Coverdale also had-the monotonous and depressing wood-cutting, labor­ing in the "gold-mine,"14 and working in the hay,15 together with his inability to do literary work.16 Coverdale never commits himself whole-heartedly to the Utopian schemes, just as Hawthorne had not done,-or rather, wished he had not,-and such expressions as "a task we had in hand for the reformation of the world,"11 and "our apostolic society, whose mission was to bless mankind,"18 evidence the reflec­tion of the author upon the whole matter as a fruitless and foolish attempt at reform. We should not be surprised to find the irony even more piquant. 
Another of Hawthorne's attitudes that recur in The Blithedale Romance is his disapproval of any extended ef­fort toward reform and philanthropy, an attitude which is plainly mirrored in Coverdale's lack of sympathy with Hol­lingsworth. Coverdale and Zenobia embody the author's views that philanthropists in general are "an obviously dis­agreeable set of mortals"; and both are strong in the belief that Hollingsworth is setting about a hopeless task in his plans for reforming criminals.19 In the long interview in which Coverdale refuses to join Hollingsworth in his philanthropic scheme, Hawthorne appears unmistakably, 
1avnI, 182. 
HSee XVIII, 286-290. 
1sJbid., 299-300; Hawthorne, Nathaniel, Love Letters, Chicago, 1907, II, 90; VIII; 94, 200, 277-278, 324, 351. 
16Cf. XVIII, 296-297, and VIII, 90-91. 
11VIII, 12. 
1sv11I, 51. 
1osee VIII, 75, 313. 
in the guise of Coverdale, in his arguing against any similar efforts at reform. Coverdale also represents Hawthorne when, later on, he comes to believe that Hollingsworth's obsession with the one idea of philanthropy has driven him well nigh to insanity.20 
Coverdale's work at Blithedale tallies very closely with what Hawthorne wrote Sophia about his own employment at Brook Farm: cutting wood and carrying it into the house, harvesting hay, milking cows, feeding the stock, and cultivating beans. Likewise Coverdale voices the attitude toward work which Hawthorne habitually took. Coverdale regrets that the members at Blithedale "had thrown off that sweet, bewitching, enervating indolence, which is better, after all, than most of the enjoyments within mortal grasp,"21 and Hawthorne frequently wrote to Sophia be­moaning the necessity for continual work on the farm.22 On the other hand, Coverdale echoes Hawthorne's delight in his work during his first days at Brook Farm,23 when he speaks of "the sweet weariness that follows accustomed toil."24 
So, too, Coverdale's views on women's rights are auto­biographical. Though he almost always speaks favorably of Zenobia, he naturally opposes-mildly, it is true, because she is a woman-her efforts at reform, and, in a manner characteristic of Hawthorne, he suggests that a woman is worse as a reformer than is a man. 25 And Coverdale speaks 
2ovIII, 77, 110-111. This idea of insanity as either the cause or the result of an exaggerated devotion to one idea occurs more than once with Hawthorne. In September of 1835 he had recorded in his journal (XVIII, 10-11) some notes for a sketch in which a reformer who is about to make many converts to his extreme opinions, is found to be an escaped inmate of a mad-house. 
21vIII, 22. 
22see Love Letters, II, 25. 
2ssee XVIII, 291. 
24VIII, 115. See also VIII, 183-184, 195-196. 
2svrn, 58-59, 171, 174-175. 
Autobiography in "The Blithedale Romance" 45 
for Hawthorne further when he objects to Zenobia's work as an orator and author.26 
Still another of Hawthorne's traits that reappear in Cov­erdale is his love of seclusion. The author is plainly echoed in Coverdale's statement: "Though fond of society, I was so constituted as to need these occasional retirements" ; and Coverdale goes on, Hawthorne-like, to explain that with­out some relief from the monotonous routine of work, his mind would cease to function.21 Coverdale also expresses more than once the author's distrust of contact with so­ciety.28 And what can be more typical of Hawthorne than Coverdale's statement, "'In the midst of cheerful society, I had often a feeling of loneliness" ?29 
Coverdale, moreover, at the very beginning of The Blithe­dale Romance, is surely speaking for the author when he ex­presses disapproval of spiritualists and mesmerists,30 at the same time exemplifying enough faith in them to ask the Veiled Lady to predict the outcome of the Blithedale experi­ment.31 Likewise, Coverdale's opinion that the phenomena exhibited in the lyceum hall are humbug is Hawthorne's. 
Numerous personal likes and habits, furthermore, help to identify Coverdale with the author. Both are lovers of the fireplace, and both make special mention of the fireplaces 
26For Hawthorne's views on women as authors see XVII, 1-12; Ticknor, Howard M., "Hawthorne as Seen by His Publisher," The Critic, XLV, 53 (July, 1904); and Love Letters, p. 247, where Haw­thorne wrote to his wife about a woman's discussing in a magazine article her own child; he thanked God his wife had not so "prostituted herself to the public." "It does seem to me," he went on to say, "to deprive woman of all delicacy. Women are too good for authorship, and that is the reason it spoils them so." 
21v111, 125. 
2ssee VIII, 143. 
29VIII, 97; see also VIII, 107. 
sov111, 1-2. 
s1v111, 3. Part of her prophecy proved true. Hawthorne believed 
in some measure in mesmerism, for he wrote to Sophia on October 18, 
1841 (Love Letters, II, 63), that she might allow herself to be mes­
merized enough to stop her headache. 
at the community houses. 32 Both smoke cigars and like to drink wine occasionally; both read Carlyle33 and Fourier ;34 both speak of having half-waking dreams. 35 Coverdale's considering the probability of offering himself as a "volun­teer on the Exploring Expedition"36 reminds us that efforts were made to secure Hawthorne a post in the proposed ex­pedition of Reynolds to the South Seas in 1838.37 Cover­dale's admiration for Zenobia's natural beauty corresponds to Hawthorne's impatience with women's artificial make­up ;38 and Coverdale's calling himself "chamberlain to the cows"39 recalls the same expression, occurring frequently in Hawthorne's letters to Sophia. 
Priscilla is another character in Hawthorne's novel who has an easily recognizable prototype. Her original is ob­viously the young seamstress who stayed at Brook Farm for a short time while Hawthorne was there.40 The two women have had the same background,-that is, Priscilla has the same background which Hawthorne learned or sur· mised the seamstress at Roxbury had had. Each has been a seamstress in the city,41 and shows clearly the effects of her 
32See Love Letters, II, 5-6; VIII, 7. 
33VIII, 71; XVIII, 294. 
34Hawthorne probably did not read Fourier's works until after his 
marriage; see VIII, 71; XVIII, 517. Sophia wrote (Hawthorne, 
Julian, Nathaniel Hawthorne and His Wife, Boston, 1884, I, 268-269) 
that on April 6, 1845, she had read the fourth volume of Fourier, and 
added, "My husband read the whole volume, and was thoroughly 
disgusted." 
35VIII, 50, 218; see also "The Haunted Mind." 
36VIII, 199. 
37See Woodberry, p. 76. 
38VIII, 59; IV, 87. 
39VIII, 298. 
40Lindsay Swift's statement (Brook Farm, Its Members, Scholars, 
and Visitors, p. 169) that there is a "faint hint" of Priscilla in the little seamstress is obviously an understatement. On October 9, 1841, Hawthorne had sent to Sophia a full descrip­tion of the seamstress; see XVIII, 327-329. 41XVIII, 327; VIII, 43-44. 
eonfining work.42 Both are exceedingly slight of stature and are on the "outer limit of girlhood."43 Despite a diminu­tive physique and fair skin, each little seamstress is ex­tremely vivacious; bounds and dances instead of walking, laughs continually, and runs races with the boys ;44 and cheers those about her by her gaiety and playful spirit.45 Both are liked by all their associates, even though neither can do her part of the work. 
Two incidents evolving from the playfulness and pranks of Priscilla-her riding the ox and her climbing upon a load of hay-are so close to similar incidents described in Haw­thorne's letters about the seamstress as to make it appear almost certain that the author wrote with the originals be­fore him. On October 9, 1841, he had written to Sophia of the seamstress: "She asks William Allen to place her 'on top of that horse,' whereupon he puts his large brown hands about her waist, and, swinging her to and fro, lifts her on horse-back."46 In The Blithedale Romance he writes: "I saw old Silas, with his brawny hands round Priscilla's waist, swinging her to and fro, and finally depositing her on one of the oxen, to take her first lessons in riding."47 The sentence in Hawthorne's letter, "William threatens to rivet two horseshoes round her neck, for having clambered, with the other girls and boys, upon a load of hay, whereby the said load lost its balance and slid off the cart,"48 appears also in The Blithedale Romance: "For example, I once heard 
42VIII, 34, 68, 265; XVIII, 327. It is noteworthy that each is com­
pared to a wild flower, and that each wears wild flowers in her bon­
net; see VIII, 80; XVIII, 328. 
4aSee XVIII, 327-329; VIII, 68. 
44The mere statement in Hawthorne's letter to Sophia that the 
seamstress played and ran races with the boys calls out a full para­
graph in The Blitkedale Romance (VIII, 103) on the races of Priscilla 
and on races as run between boys and girls. 
45VIII, 80; XVIII, 328. One sentence describing Priscilla (VIII, 
177) appears to have been paraphrased from a letter written from 
.Brook Farm to Sophia (XVIII, 328). 
46XVIII, 328. 
47VIII, 102-104. 
48XVIII, 328. 
Studies in English. 
Silas Foster, in a very gruff voice, threatening to rivet three horseshoes round Priscilla's neck and chain her to a post, because she, with some other young people, had clam­bered upon a load of hay, and caused it to slide off the cart."49 
Contemporaries of Hawthorne who read The Blithedale Romance and who were acquainted with Margaret Fuller, very naturally identified Zenobia with her, and they be­lieved the suicide described in the novel to be prophetic of Margaret Fuller's death.50 When this impression was com­municated to Hawthorne, he insisted that no character in the book had a definite prototype. In a statement to Chan­ning,51 as in the preface, he expressed surprise that anyone should relate Zenobia to Margaret Fuller. His mention of Coverdale's receiving a letter from Margaret Fuller while he was sick at Blithedale and his statement that Priscilla resembles Miss Fuller52 were probably inserted to divert the reader's attention from the similarities between Zenobia and Miss Fuller. 
Beyond a doubt Margaret Fuller was the woman among those most devoted to literature and to reform whom Haw­thorne knew best;53 and though she was never officially and 
49VIII, 103. 
50Members of the community at Roxbury attempted to find an original for Zenobia, but they seem not to have been agreed in their conclusions. In his book on Brook Farm ( p. 173) Lindsay Swift has this to say: "It matters little whether or not Zenobia is a blend of Miss Fuller and Mrs. Barlow; there certainiy is more than an intima­tion of both. Arthur Sumner says that nobody at Brook Farm dis­tantly resembles Zenobia. . . . Mrs. Kirby says that Zenobia was a friend of Miss Peabody, and died in Florence in the eighties." 
51VIII, xx. It is probable that his denial of any connection between the two arose from his wish not to antagonize Margaret Fuller and her admirers by such an unfavorable portrait as he gives in the book. 
112vn1, 70. 
53Through the Peabodys, at whose book store the first conversations were held, Hawthorne was certain to have learned of Miss Fuller, and he probably came to know her there. For notes on Hawthorne's contacts with Miss Fuller at Concord see XVIII, 284, 386-390, 423, 430; also Montegut, t:mile, "Un Roman Socialiste en Amerique," Rev'U6 des Deux Mondes, XVI, 812 (December 1, 1852). 
outwardly connected with the community at Roxbury, her name was, even in her own time, closely associated with Brook Farm.54 
A striking parallel between Zenobia and Miss Fuller lies in their backgrounds. Each was precocious as a child, and each suffered from being brought up by a man; both were driven by unsatisfactory early lives to devote themselves to futile attempts to improve the position of women. The two resemble each other, furthermore, in their natures. Miss Fuller was famous for her personality, as well as for her oratorical and conversational powers; and Hawthorne's ac­count of Zenobia gives her the same traits.55 The closest parallel, however, between Zenobia and her apparent proto­type lies in their purposes and work. Like Margaret Ful­ler,56 Zenobia had written stories and tracts "in defense of her sex"57 and had made lectures on the stage, and she was determined to continue advocating women's rights.58 
54In her famous conversations in Boston she had come into contact with many of those who later moved to Brook Farm. The Trans­cendental Club and her friendship with the Ripleys had interested her in the plans for the proposed community; and writings by various members of the community reveal that she had visited Brook Farm frequently, and at times for extended periods of time; see Swift, pp. 207-217; an anonymous article entitled "Home Life of the Brook Farm Association," in The Atlantic Monthly for October, 1878 (XLII, 464); and Hawthorne's Works, XVIII, 318. 
55See VIII, 58-59. 
56See, for example, Margaret Fuller's unsigned article on Woman's rights entitled "The Great Lawsuit," in The Dial, July, 1843 (IV, 1-47). 
57VIII, 42. 
5BSee VIII, 170, 201. 
The tragic failure of Miss Fuller's life, which culminated in her drowning, together with her family, just off the coast of New York in 1850, corresponds to the failure of Zenobia's schemes. 
There are, to be sure, some striking differences between the two women. Zenobia is beautiful, voluptuous, and in excellent health; whereas Miss Fuller was an invalid and rather masculine. Still, do we not expect such differences, assuming that the two are to be con­nected, and knowing that Hawthorne did not wish his readers to con­sider Miss Fuller the source for Zenobia? And, besides, the heroine of his book must be beautiful and healthy. 
Beyond any doubt Hawthorne disapproved of Margaret Fuller's attempts to gain greater freedom for women; and his rejoicing at being able to escape a dinner with her at Bancroft's in 184059 has been taken, plausibly, I think, to mean that he disliked her personally.60 It seems impossible, then, to escape the conclusion that Margaret Fuller sug­gested to Hawthorne a good many of the traits in Zenobia's character.61 
Hollingsworth62 appears to embody traits taken from various philanthropists of Hawthorne's acquaintance, but chiefly from three: William B. Pike, the author's close friend from his early days in Salem,63 Orestes Augustus Brownson,64 and George Ripley.65 And Minot Pratt is said, 
Lindsay Swift suggests (pp. 127-128) that the physical beauty and charm of Zenobia may have been derived from Mrs. Almira Barlow, formerly a Miss Penniman, "a famous beauty in Brookline," who lived at Brook Farm and was a friend to the Curtis brothers at Concord. 
ts9See XVIII, 284. sosee Howells, William Dean, Heroines of Fiction, New York, 1901, I, 178. 
s1This view has the support also of Lindsay Swift (pp. 165-166) and of Hattie Tyng Griswold (Home Life of Great Authors, Chicago, 1913, p. 214). 
s2Richard Holt Hutton (Literary Essays, London, 1903, p. 482) says that Hollingsworth, together with Phoebe in Tke House of tke Seven Gables, is more "evidently taken from observation, only than any of" Hawthorne's other characters. 
63The suggestion that Pike was one of the originals of Hollings­worth was first made by Julian Hawthorne (Nathaniel Hawthorne and H'is Wife, I, 444), who states that Pike had "something of the softer side of Hollingsworth in him." 
64The implication that Brownson afforded in a measure "the fierce, almost tiresome earnestness" of Hollingsworth was first made by Lindsay Swift (p. 173; see also Swift, pp. 241-251). 
65Swift also suggests (pp. 128-129) that the "pathetic zeal of Rip­ley" reappears in the character of Hollingsworth. 
It is interesting to note in passing that "The New Adam and Eve," 1843, contains (V, 12-13) the gist of Hollingsworth's philosophy in the author's suggestion that if an effort were made "to cure sin by love," there would be no need for prisons. 
"not without reason," according to Lindsay Swift,66 "to be the original of Silas Foster." But in scolding Priscilla for climbing upon the load of hay and in setting her upon the ox, Foster corresponds to William Allen ;67 in observing the masqueraders in the woods, he corresponds to William Orange ;68 and in helping recover the drowned body of Zeno­bia, he corresponds to an unidentified man who helped in the search for the body of Martha Hunt.69 
2. Certain features of the setting in The BlithedaJ,e Ro­mance must also have been drawn from Brook Farm and its vicinity, in which Hawthorne avowedly laid the scene of his romance.70 Readers acquainted with Hawthorne's note .. books and with the novel will recognize Coverdale's "her­mitage" as an elaboration of an account of a cluster of grapevines seen by the author in 1841 while walking near the house at Brook Farm.71 In each instance grapevines are twined about some trees and form a bower in the top of a white pine tree; and in each the trees are said to be "married" by the vines. Coverdale in one account and Haw­thorne in the other climb into the small rooms formed by the vines, in search of seclusion, and both eat grapes from the vines while remaining there. 72 A second element in the setting which was drawn from the vicinity of Brook Farm 
66See his Brook Farm., Its Members, Sckol,a,rs, and Visitors, p. 173. Fost.er is made a typical farmer so that he can guide the newcomers and also so that he will furnish a sort of contrast to them. 
67William Allen was for a time chief farmer at Brook Farm; see Emerson's Works, X, 359-360. 
6SQrange was a neighbor of the Brook Farmers. 
69See Stewart, p. xxx. 
roupon visiting the house and surroundings of the community in 1884, Julian Hawthorne found the premises very dismal, and con­cluded that Hawthorne bad flatteringly exaggerated the setting in the novel (see "Scenes of Hawthorne's Romances," The Century Maga­zine, XXVIII, 380 (July, 1884)). But is not that just what we should expect of him when he purposely chose it as the location for a romance? 
nxVIII, 311-312. 
72XVIII, 311-312; VIII, 138-140, 296-297. 
Studies in English 
is Eliot's Pulpit, 73 a huge boulder which received its name "from a tradition that the venerable Apostle Eliot had preached there, two centuries gone by, to an Indian audi­tory."14 Coverdale's proposal for a building site75 is a rem­iniscence of Hawthorne's attempts to find in the spring of 1842 a place to build a home for himself and Sophia.76 
A still more extensive and a more accurate borrowing was made from two passages in The American Notebooks which tell of Hawthorne's experiences on visits to Boston in 1838, three years before he went to Brook Farm, and again in 1850. An entry in the notebooks for October 24, 1838, which describes the view from a window in the Tre­mont Hotel in Boston,77 afforded various details for Cover­dale's account of some of the things that he saw from the window of his hotel in the city. In each account, on a rainy day, the observer is conscious of the moving scene on the street below, and notices through an opposite window some 
73For some conception of the liberties Hawthorne took in picturing the rock, compare the description in The Blithedale Romance (VIII, 168-169) with the description written by Julian Hawthorne when he visited Roxbury some forty years after his father's stay there 
("Scenes of Hawthorne's Romances," The Century Magazine, XXVIII, 395 (July, 1884)). 
74See The American Notebooks (XVIII, 342-343) for a note on the Pulpit Rock; also Love Letters, p. 13. See The Scarlet Letter (VI, 321) for another allusion to John Eliot. For a note on John Eliot see Dwight, Timothy, Travels in New England and New York, New Haven, 1821, III, 126. 
111vIII, 112-113. 76See Conway, Moncure D., Life of Hawthorne, London, 1895, p. 89. In regard to the provisions for housing the residents at Brook Farm see Article III, Section II, of the Constitution of the Brook Farm Association, quoted by Dhaleine, pp. 76-77. The ironical situation of having Zenobia buried on the spot where supposedly she and Hollingsworth had planned to build their home is thoroughly Hawthornesque. For another development of the same idea see "The Lily's Quest"; also XVIII, 32; XII, 5-15. 77Julian Hawthorne states ("Scenes of Hawthorne's Romances," The Century Magazine, XXVIII, 392 (July, 1884)) that the hotel at which Coverdale stays is fictitious, at least as to location, but that it may represent the Tremont Hotel. 
children, a man in a dressing-gown, and two women, one of whom is at work.78 
Other details of the scene which Coverdale witnesses from the hotel window are drawn with only a few changes, chiefly in arrangement, from the account in the notebooks of Haw­thorne's stay in a boarding house in Boston in 1850.79 In both the novel and the journal the observer, who claims for himself an interest in all the "nooks and crannies" in cities, studies a row of fashionable boarding houses about forty yards opposite, one of which in each description has a bal­cony, surrounded by a wrought-iron balustrade. In each account the space between the observer and the row of houses opposite is described in virtually the same terms ; and in each instance two women are noticed through a win­dow in one of the houses-one of them sewing, and the other passing back and forth.so The same passage in the journal furnished also the details of the church weather­cock, which points eastward; the noises of the show near­by ;81 the cat, which steals along the roofs of the low build­
1ssee XVIII, 245; VIII, 215-222. 
79XVIII, 479-494. 
soThe "loose morning sack" worn by one of the women in the jour­nal account becomes Priscilla's "airy drapery." 
s1A comparison of the following two sentences will indicate the closeness with which Hawthorne followed his notebook here. The first is from The Blithedale Romance (VIII, 210): 
"In some public hall, not a great way off, there seemed to be an ex­hibition of a mechanical diorama; for three times during the day occurred a repetition of obstreperous music, winding up with a rattle of imitative cannon and musketry, and a huge final explosion." 
The original of this is the following passage from the notebooks 
(XVIII, 492): 
"In a building not far off, there is a hall for exhibitions; and some­times, in the evenings, loud music is heard from it; or, if a diorama be shown (that of Bunker Hill, for instance, or the burning of Mos­
cow), an immense racket of imitative cannon and musketry." 
For another allusion to the diorama of "Moscow or Bunker Hill," see VIII, 279. In 1833 the burning of Moscow was shown in Salem in conjunction with Maelzl's Automaton. Other panoramas had been exhibited at Salem in 1817 and 1822; see Felt, Joseph B., Annals of Salem, Salem, 1845-1849, II, 87, 91. 
ings and descends a flight of stairs; and the dove, which flies from a roof near-by straight toward the observer. 
At no place in the novel is there a complete description of the house at Blithedale, perhaps because of the author's de­sire to make the setting seem as remote and romantic as possible; but the few hints given coincide with the actual building at Brook Farm, the Hive.82 The fireplaces in the kitchen and in the sitting room, which serves also both as a dining room and an assembly room, the large pine tables and the benches, the sleeping rooms upstairs, the barn close by, the brook near the house, the surrounding woods, and the forest paths-all are accurately reproduced from what Hawthorne knew at Brook Farm.83 
3. Besides Priscilla's upsetting the cart load of hay and riding the ox, numerous incidents of The Blithedale Ro­mance were drawn directly or indirectly from the author's own experiences at Brook Farm. In the first place, Cover­dale's arrival at Blithedale-in an April snowstorm-cor­responds precisely to the time and conditions of Haw­thorne's arrival at Roxbury. Both in the novel and in the notebook the new homes are ironically compared to Eden,84 and members of both communities are compared to the Puritans in their settlement of New England.85 Hawthorne's sickness as a result of his ride to Brook Farm takes the form, in the novel, of Coverdale's sickness. Moreover, each man uses his illness as an excuse for not working, even after he is almost well. 86 
82See Hawthorne, Julian, "Scenes of Hawthorne's Romances," The Century Magazine, XXVIII, 395(July,1884); Swift, pp. 26-29. Dwight (see Cooke, George Willis, John Sullivan DW'igkt: Brook-Farmer, Editor, and Critic of Music, a Biography, Boston, 1898, pp. 57-58) describes the evening spent by the members of the community in the dining room on the night of his arrival, in the fall of 1841, much as Hawthorne pictures the evenings in the house at Blithedale. 
83See Codman, John Thomas, Brook Farm, Historic and Personal 
Mem.oirs, Boston, 1894, pp. 47-50. 
84See VIII, 18-19; XVIII, 286; Love Letters, pp. 3 ff. 
s5See VIII, 12, 166; XVIII, 286. 
sssee VIII, 292. 
The passages in The Blithedale Romance dealing with hogs were reproduced pretty accurately from the journal.81 Hawthorne wrote Sophia late in September, 1841, of going to the weekly cattle-fair at Brighton, where "William Allen had come to buy four little pigs."88 This incident appears in the novel as Silas Foster's proposal that "some of us must go to the next Brighton fair, and buy half a dozen pigs."89 The lengthy paragraph in the notebooks describing Hawthorne's farewell to the hogs is repeated almost ver­batim in the novel.90 
87For evidences in the notebooks of Hawthorne's interest in hogs see XVIII, 2, 224, 240, 375-376. 
88XVIII, 316-317. 
89VIII, 24. 
9°The passage in the novel (VIII, 204-205) runs as follows: 
"There they lay, buried as deeply among the straw as they could bur­row, four huge black grunters, the very symbols of slothful ease and sensual comfort. They were asleep, drawing short and heavy breaths, which heaved their big sides up and down. Unclosing their eyes, however, at my approach, they looked dimly forth at the outer world, and simultaneously uttered a gentle grunt; not putting themselves to the trouble of an additional breath for that particular purpose, but grunting with the ordinary inhalation. They were involved, and al­most stifled and buried alive, in their own corporeal substance. The very unreadiness and oppression wherewith these greasy citizens gained breath enough to keep their life-machinery in sluggish move­ment appeared to make them only the more sensible of the ponderous and fat satisfaction of their existence. Peeping at me an instant out of their small, red, hardly perceptible eyes, they dropt asleep again; yet not so far asleep but that their unctuous bliss was still present to them, betwixt dream and reality." 
The passage in Hawthorne's notebooks (XVIII, 320-321) runs thus: "They lie among the clean rye straw in the sty, nestling close together. . . . So there lie these four black swine, as deep among the straw as they can burrow, the very symbols of slothful ease and sensuous com­£ort. They seem to be actually oppressed and over-burdened with comfort. They are quick to notice any one's approach, and utter a low grunt thereupon,-not drawing a breath for that particular pur­pose, but grunting with their ordinary breath, at the same time turn­ing an observant, though dull and sluggish eye upon the visitor. They seem to be involved and buried in their own corporeal substance, and to look dimly forth at the outer world. They breathe not easily, and yet not with difficulty nor discomfort; for the very unreadiness and 
Other details in The Blithedale Romance based on Haw­thorne's stay at Brook Farm were the picnics, readings from Shakespeare, tableaux, and masquerades.91 In particu­lar, the masquerade performed in the woods on the day of Coverdale's return to Blithedale is accurately reproduced from the notebooks for September 28, 1841. The closeness of the two versions will be evident from these passages, the first of which is from the journal: 
I strolled out, after dinner, with Mr. Bradford, and in a lonesome glade we met the apparition of an Indian chief, dressed in appropriate costume of blanket, feathers, and paint, and armed with a musket. Almost at the same time, a young gypsy fortune-teller came from among the trees, and proposed to tell my fortune. While she was doing this, the goddess Diana let fly an arrow, and hit me smartly in the hand. The fortune-teller and goddess were in fine contrast, Diana being a blonde, fair, quiet, with a moderate composure; and the gypsy 
(0. G.) a bright, vivacious, dark-haired, rich-complexioned damsel,­both of them very pretty, at least pretty enough to make fifteen years enchanting. Accompanied by these denizens of the wild wood, we went onward, and came to a company of fantastic figures, arranged in a ring for a dance or a game. There was a Swiss, girl, an Indian squaw, a negro of the Jim Crow order, one or two foresters, and sev­eral people in Christian attire, besides children of all ages. Then fol­lowed childish games, in which the grown people took part with mirth enough,-while I, whose nature it is to be a mere spectator both of sport and serious business, lay under the trees and looked on. . . . The ceremonies of the day concluded with a cold collation of cakes and fruit. ... It has left a fantastic impression on my memory, this intermingling of wild and fabulous characters with real and homely ones, in the secluded nook of the woods. I remember them, with the sunlight breaking through overshadowing branches, and they appear­ing confusedly,-perhaps starting out of the earth; as if the everyday laws of nature were suspended for this particular occasion.92 
oppression with which their breath comes appears to make them sen­sible of the deep sensual satisfaction which they feel. . . . Anon they fall asleep, drawing short and heavy breaths, which heave their huge sides up and down; but at the slightest noise they sluggishly unclose their eyes, and give another gentle grunt." 
Both accounts, moreover, make note of the fact that soon the hogs 
were "doomed to die." 
91See VIII, 149-150; Love Letters, II, 19, 51; Swift, p. 59. 
92XVIII, 317-319. 
The account in The Blithedale Romance reads as follows: 
The wood, in this portion of it, seemed as full of jollity as if Comus and his crew were holding revels in one of its usually lonesome glades. Stealing onward as far as I durst, without hazard of discovery, I saw a concourse of strange figures beneath the over-shadowing branches. They appeared, and vanished, and came again, confusedly with streaks of sunlight glimmering down upon them. 
Among them was an Indian chief, with blanket, feathers, and war­paint, and uplifted tomahawk; and near him, looking fit to be his woodland bride, the goddess Diana, with the crescent on her head, and attended by our big lazy dog, in lack of any fleeter hound. Drawing an arrow from her quiver, she let it fly at a venture, and hit the very tree behind which I happened to be lurking. Another group consisted of a Bavarian broom-girl, a negro of the Jim Crow order, one or two foresters of the Middle Ages, a Kentucky woodsman in his trimmed hunting-shirt and deer-skin leggings, and a Shaker elder, quaint, demure, broad-brimmed, and square-skirted. . . . A bright-complex­ioned, dark-haired, vivacious little gypsy, with a red shawl over her head, went from one group to another, telling fortunes by palm­istry•... 
A little farther off, some old-fashioned skinkers and drawers, all with portentously red noses, were spreading a banquet on the leaf­strewn earth.... So they joined hands in a circle, whirling round so swiftly, so madly, and so merrily, in time and tune with the Satanic music, that their separate incongruities were blended all together.93 
Hawthorne, as is obvious, did little more in the novel than paraphrase the account as given in the notebooks. He has added several characters, but his position as observer re­mains the same, and most of the details of the scene are brought over from the notebooks with little or no change. 94 
93VIII, 298-300. In a letter dated June 6, 1845, Marianne Dwight mentions (Letters from Brook Farm, 1844-1847, Poughkeepsie, New York, 1928, p. 102) a similar occasion at Brook Farm. Another mem­ber of the society writes anonymously ("Home Lile of the Brook Farm Association," The Atlantic Monthly, XLII, 462, 465 (October, 1878)) of the frequent square dances, in which most of the Brook Farmers took part, and describes one elaborate masquerade which included, among others, Hamlet, Little Nell, Indians, and Greeks. 
94The following sentence in The Blithedale Romance (VIII, 300), "But Silas Foster, who leaned against a tree near by, in his cus­tomary blue frock and smoking a short pipe, did more to disenchant the scene, with his look of shrewd, acrid, Yankee observation, than 
Studies in English 
Several other incidents in The Blithedale Romance evi­dently go back to Hawthorne's actual experiences at Brook Farm-among them the fun the neighbors had watching the Blithedale farmers milk, and in particular Coverdale's learning how to milk, his walking in the woods, making hay, gathering flowers, and bringing in wood, his attending a theater while visiting in the city, and his thinking of his previous life at Blithedale as a dream. The horn blown to rouse the members in the morning is also true to what Hawthorne had known at Brook Farm.95 
4. Still other matters in The Blithedale Romance, matters in no way related to the Brook Farm experiences, are drawn from The American Notebooks. A prototype for old Moodie is to be found in the entry for May 7, 1850, describing an "elderly ragamuffin" that Hawthorne often saw in Boston. The character described in the notebooks96 is greatly ex­panded in the novel, old Moodie's past being dwelt on at length. Physically the two men are very similar: each has a pale, thin face, a patch over one eye, and a slight body, stooped and poorly kept. Both are exceedingly shy and look no one in the face; both are compared to ghosts, in their slinking efforts to avoid notice. With each the fond­ness for drink is evidenced by a red nose, though neither is a confirmed drunkard. The "sort of shadow or delusion of respectability" about the old man at Parker's, "a sobriety 
twenty witches and necromancers could have done in the way of ren­dering it weird and fantastic," goes back to this original in the no~ books (XVIII, 319): "And apart, with a shrewd, Yankee observation of the scene, stands our friend Orange, a thick-set, sturdy figure, en­joying the fun well enough, yet rather laughing with a perception of its nonsensicalness than at all entering into the spirit of the thing." 
For a note on the friendship between Hawthorne and Tom Orange, see Swift, p. 168. 
The appearance in Boston during 1842 and 1843 of a performance known as "The Invisible Gipsy" (see Felt, Annals of Salem, II, 85) probably furnished the basic idea for Zenobia's story of "The Veiled Lady" (VIII, 151-165, 276-290). 
95See Codman, Brook Farm, p. 47. 
96XVIII, 478-479. 
too, and a kind of decency in his groggy and red-nosed desti­tution" are explained in The Blithedale Romance as being an adumbration of old Moodie's past, a respectable past, spent in the South. 
Hawthorne's visit to Parker's saloon, as described in the journal for May 7, 1850, reappears in the romances as Cov­erdale's visit to the saloon in search of old Moodie,97 certain details in the descriptions of the two saloons being almost identical. For instance, beside the door of Parker's grog­shop, as it appears in the journal, sundry kinds of meats, including canvas-back ducks with "mottled feathers," have been hung for display; in The Blithedale Romance, instead of actual meats, pictures on the wall represent virtually the same viands for sale. Pictures of topers painted on the wall, and one in particular, attract the observer in each saloon: "A drunken toper," described in the notebooks as "sleeping on a bench beside the grog-shop,-a ragged, half­hatless, bloated, red-nosed, jolly, miserable-looking devil, very well done, and strangely suitable to the room," re­appears in the novel as "a ragged, bloated New England toper, stretched out on a bench, in the heavy, apoplectic sleep of drunkenness." The skill of one bartender at Par­ker's in mixing gin-cocktails is carried over to the novel with only the addition of a few concrete details. The em­phasis on the orderliness of the saloon and on the decorous conduct of the drinkers appears both in the notebook ac­count and in the novel. As explained in each, moreover, the purpose of the men in drinking is only to gain the "titilla­tion of the coats of the stomach and a general sense of in­vigoration, without affecting the brain."98 
The drowning of Zenobia is another incident drawn from Hawthorne's experiences, the account of the recovery of her drowned body99 being reproduced with but slight changes from an entry quoted by Julian Hawthorne from 
91VJII, 248-253; XVIII, 476-478. 
9SXVIII, 477. 
99VIII, 329-339. 

his father's journal for July 9, 1843,100 which tells of the novelist's helping Ellery Channing, General Buttrick, and others to drag from the Concord River the body of Martha Hunt, a young woman of Roxbury.101 Coverdale arouses Hollingsworth and Silas Foster at night, just as Ellery Channing aroused Hawthorne to obtain his help. Zenobia's handkerchief and one shoe are found on the bank among her tracks; whereas at Concord the woman's bonnet and both of her shoes were found. Long poles with hooks on the ends and long-handled hay rakes are used in both for dragging the bottom of the stream, which is described in each account as having a hollow deep enough to prevent the body from drifting downstream.102 Coverdale steers the boat, just as Hawthorne did, and allows it to drift slowly along, broadside with the current. 
In each account the men in the boat lift water-weeds from the water, believing them to be the dead body; and when the body is struck by the pole they have brought along, the one steering the boat-the narrator of the incident-realizes at once that the search is ended. The notebook reads as follows: "There was an appearance of light garments on the surface of the water. He made a strong effort, and brought so much of the body above the surface that there could be no doubt about it. He drew her towards the boat, grasped her arm or hand, and I steered the boat to the bank, all the while looking at the dead girl, whose limbs were swaying in the water, close at the boat's side." In the novel we are told: "Hollingsworth heaved amain, and up came a white swash to the surface of the river. It was the flow of a woman's garments. A little higher, and we saw her dark hair streaming down the current.... I steered 
100Nathaniel Hawtkorne and Hi,s Wife, I, 296-303. 
101see Stewart, pp. 112-115. 
102The river at Concord is ''black as midnight, smooth, impenetrable, 
and keeping its secrets from the eye as perfectly as mid-ocean would; 
at Blithedale "it lapsed imperceptibly away, as a broad, black, in­
scrutable depth, keeping its own secrets from the eye of man, as 
impenetrably as mid-ocean could." 
Autobiography in "The Blithedale Romance" 61 
towards the bank, gazing all the while at Zenobia, whose limbs were swaying in the current close at the boat's side." The exclamation, "Ah, poor child!" of some old man when the body of Martha Hunt was lifted from the water, is in the novel put into the mouth of Foster, who exclaims, "Poor child! ... I'm sorry for her!" 
In each account the body is laid on the bank under a tree, and the horribleness of the spectacle is emphasized. In the notebook the account runs thus: 
The rigidity, above spoken of, was dreadful to behold. Her arms had stiffened in the act of struggling, and were bent before her, with the hands clenched. She was the very image of a death-agony.•.• The lower part of the body had stiffened into a more quiet attitude; the legs were slightly bent, and the feet close together. But that rigidity!-it is impossible to express the effect of it; it seemed as if she would keep the same position in the grave, and that her skeleton would keep it too, and that when she arose at the Day of Judgment, it would be in the same attitude. 
The account in The Blithedale Romance is substantially the same: 
She was the marble image of a death-agony. Her arms had grown rigid in the act of struggling, and were bent before her with clenched hands, her knees, too, were bent, and-thank God for it! in the atti­tude of prayer. Ah, that rigidity! It is impossible to bear the terror of it. It seemed,-1 must needs impart so much of my own miserable idea,-it seemed as if her body must keep the same position in the coffin, and that her skeleton would keep it in the grave; and that when Zenobia rose at the day of judgment, it would be in just the same attitude as now! 
The passage in the notebook, "If she could have foreseen, while she stood, at five o'clock that morning, on the bank of the river, how her maiden corpse would have looked, eighteen hours afterwards, and how coarse men would strive with hand and foot to reduce it to a decent aspect, and all in vain,-it would surely have saved her from the deed," takes this form in the romance: "Being the woman that she was, could Zenobia have foreseen all these ugly cir­cumstances of death,-how ill it would become her, the alto­gether unseemly aspect which she must put on, and espe­cially old Silas Foster's efforts to improve the matter,-she would no more have committed the dreadful act than have exhibited herself to a public assembly in a badly fitting garment! ... She had seen pictures, I suppose, of drowned persons in lithe and graceful attitudes." The last of these ideas had its original in the following from the notebooks: "There was nothing flexible about it; she did not droop over the arms of those supporting her, with her hair hang­ing down, as a painter would have represented her, but was as stiff as marble." An injury to one of Martha Hunt's eyes, caused by the pole by means of which she was brought to the surface, becomes in the novel a wound over the heart; for thus Foster can say to Hollingsworth, "You have wounded the poor thing's breast, . . . close by her heart, too!" And the author adds, "And so he had, indeed, both before and after death."103 
1osHawthorne's good tast.e is shown by his omitting from the novel the gruesome detail of the blood flowing from the nose of the drowned woman. In each narrative the body is with some difficulty transport.ed to the house on a bier made of boards taken from the bottom of the boat and laid across two rails; and at the house old women are left to lay out the body. 
A further borrowing from the notebooks appears in the change of the sentence (XVIII, 519), "Happiness in this world, when it comes, comes incidentally," into the assertion of Hollingsworth (VIII, 190) that "happiness (which never comes but incidentally) will come t.o us unawares." 
For yet another passage copied almost verbatim from the note­books, see XVIII, 498-499, and VIII, 802. 
POE'S DEBT TO VOLTAIRE 
BY MRS. MOZELLE SCAFF ALLEN 
Poe's debt to Voltaire was not great; yet between the writings of the two men there frequently occur teasing similarities. Much of this likeness results, I suspect, from a keenness of mind and critical attitude characteristic of both men. Voltaire, like Poe, was little inclined to accept a book or an institution without submitting it to careful analysis, and each was skilled at analysis and at ridicule. They were both interested in contemporary happenings and contemporary thought, especially in literary, scientific, and philosophical fields; and each looked to his own age and to the future rather than to the past. Voltaire was a realist; Poe was both a realist and an idealist, who did not thor­oughly approve of Voltaire but who nevertheless was in accord with many of his opinions. In this paper I shall first list sundry quotations and paraphrases that show Poe's familiarity with Voltaire; and I shall then list Poe's borrowings from Voltaire of a more substantial character. Finally, I shall mention a number of general similarities, both in matter and in method, between the two men. 
Quotations from Voltaire which Poe makes, without, how­ever, mentioning Voltaire's name, are as follows: 
1. 
"Le mieux est l'ennemi du bien," from "La Begueule,"1 where Voltaire attributes the epigram to a "sage ltalien," quoted in "The Thousand-and-Second Tale of Scheherazade."2 

2. 
"0 le hon temps que ce siecle de fer!"3 from "Le Mondain," quoted in "William Wilson."4 


1Voltaire, Contes, satires, epitres, poesies diverses, odes, stances, poesies mel.ees, traductions et imitations, Librairie de Paris [no date], 
p. 43. Hereafter referred to as "Contes, satires, epitres." 
2Th,e Complete W ork8 of Edgar Allan Poe, ed. James A. Harrison, 17 vols. (New York, 1902), VI, 81. Hereafter referred to as "Poe's 
Works." 
sc<mtes, satires, 6pitres, p. 74. 
4Poe's Works, III, 304. 

3. The phrases "Aussi tendre que Zaire" and "la tendre Zaire,"5 both quoted in "How to Write a Blackwood Article,"6 and the first, corrupted, introduced into "A Predicament."7 
Besides these quotations, Poe uses others which he spe­cifically attributes to Voltaire, and occasionally he para­phrases some passage from Voltaire. These are : 
1. "Je connois bien !'admiration qu'inspirent ces ruines-mais un palais erige au pied d'une chaine des rochers sterils-peut-il etre un chef d'oeuvre des arts!" from one of Voltaire's histories;8 quoted in a footnote on "Al Aaraaf."9 
2. "So violent was the state of parties in England, that I was as­sured by several that the Duke of Marlborough was a coward and Pope a fool," from Lettres philosophiques;10 quoted in "Marginalia."11 
51 cannot find these expressions in "Zaire," though in Voltaire's "Epitre dedicatoire a M. Falkener," "Seconde Lettre au meme M. Falkener," and "Lettre a M. de la Roque, sur la Tragedie de Zaire," there is much talk of tenderness, and in the play there is much ex­hibition of tenderness, besides frequent use of the word tendre. (See Oeuvres completes de Voltaire, nouvelle edition, a Paris, M.DCCC.­XVII, II, 417 ff. Hereafter referred to as "Oeuvres completes.") This discrepancy may be a part of Poe's satire, or it may be that the phrases in question were commonly employed in remarks about "Zaire." 
6Poe's Works, II, 278. 
1Ibid., 289. 
soeuvres completes, X, 259. The wording of the original is slightly 

different: "Je sais quelle admiration inspirent ces masures echappees aux flambeaux dont Alexandre et la courtisane Thais mirent Per­sepolis en cendre. Mais etait-ce un chef-d'oeuvre de l'art qu'un palais bati au pied d'une chaine de rochers arides?" Poe's quotation was evidently made from memory, as was the case with many of his quo­tations made from the Bible and from Shakespeare. See two articles by Professor Killis Campbell: "Poe's Knowledge of the Bible," Studies in Philology, XXVII, 546-551 (July, 1930); and "Poe's Reading: Ad­denda and Corrigenda," University of Texas Studies in English, No. 7, pp. 175-180 (1927). 
9Poe's Works, VII, 30. 
1ovoltaire, Lettres philosopkiques, ed. Lanson, 2 vols. (Paris, 1909), 
II, 138, 263. (Hereafter referred to as "Lettres philosopkiques.") 
The two French readings, in the order indicated, are as follows: "J'ai 
trouve des gens qui m'ont assure que Milord Malbourg [sic] etoit 
un poltron, & que Mr Pope etoit un sot"; "J'ai entendu dire ici, mot 
pour mot, que Milord Marlborough etait le plus grand poltron du 
monde, & que M. Pope etait un sot." (The second version, from 
3. 
"Voltaire, in his preface to 'Brutus,' actually boasts of having introduced the Roman senate on the stage in red mantles," a passage paraphrased from "Discours sur la Tragedie,"12 which is prefixed to "Brutus." This passage is introduced into "Marginalia,t'1a and also, with virtually the same wording, into "Pinakidia."14 

4. 
"The Greeks . . . font paraitre leurs acteurs (tragic) sur des especes d'echasses, le visage couvert d'un masque qui exprime la douleur d'un cote et la joye de l'autre!" from "Dissertation sur la Tragedie ancienne et moderne."15 This is quoted in "Pinakidia,"16 immediately following the paraphrase cited in the foregoing para.. graph. 

5. 
"Courons au Capitole!" from "La Mort de Cesar,"17 Act II, scene 


iv. This is quoted in "Pinakidia"1s and again in "Marginalia,"19 and in each instance is accompanied by a comment on the discrepancy re­sulting from a too meticulous care about unity of place. 
6. "Voltaire betrays, on many occasions, an almost incredible ig­norance of antiquity and its affairs. One of his saddest blunders is that of assigning the Canary Island [sic] to the Roman empire," paraphrased, it seems, form a passage in '"Essai sur les moeurs et l'esprit des nations,"20 and introduced into "Literary Small Talk."21 
"Projet d'une Lettre sur les Anglais," is preceded by a reference to 
factions.) nPoe's Works, XVI, 95. 12oeuvres completes, II, 281. Voltaire's remark appears to be an 
apology rather than a boast: "Pour moi, j'avoue que ce n'a pas ete sans quelque crainte que j'ai introduit sur la scene fran~aise le senat de Rome, en robes rouges, allant aux opinions." 
13Poe's Works, XVI, 74. 14/bid., XIV, 62. In this instance Poe cites the alleged boast as proof of Voltaire's ignorance of antiquity. 
15Qeuvres completes, IV, 4. Voltaire, answering an author who represents tragedy as an abandoned wanderer since the glorious days of Athens, agrees that "S'il entend ... qu'aucune nation ne fait paraitre ses acteurs sur des especes d'echasses, le visage couvert d'un masque qui exprime la douleur d'un cote et la joie de l'autre," he is doubtless right. Poe adapts the passage to his own sentence. 
16Poe's Works, XIV, 62. 
110euvres completes, III, 1-60. The scene, as Poe notes, is in the 
Capitol throughout. 1spoe's Works, XIV, 63. 19Ibid., XVI, 68. 200euvres completes, XII, 30. This is the French reading: "On 
avait deja retrouve les iles Canaries sans le secours de la boussole, vers le commencement du quatorzieme siecle: ces iles qui, du temps 
7. "Soyez justes, mortels, et ne craignez qu'un Dieu," said to be Voltaire's version, deliberately twisted, of the words of Phlegyas in Hell, "Dicite justitiam, moniti, et non temnere Di'Vos."22 These words are quoted in "Marginalia."2s 
Further evidence of Poe's acquaintance with Voltaire is furnished by several references and comments which do not involve quotations or paraphrases. The king in "Hop-Frog" is characterized as a practical joker who "would have pre­ferred Rabelais's 'Gargantua,' to the 'Zadig' of Voltaire."H In "Pinakidia" Poe submits that many erroneous opinions about Greek comedy, Voltaire's particularly, may be traced to Plutarch's comparison between Aristophanes and Menan­der.25 More than once he expresses or implies critical judg­ments about the worth of Voltaire. In "Marginalia" he writes: "Were I to consign these volumes [in a footnote here cited he explains that the volumes are Voltaire's], al­together, to the hands of any very young friend of mine, I could not, in conscience, describe them otherwise than as 'tam multi, tam grandes, tam pretwsi codwes'; and it would 
de Ptolomee et de Pline, etaient nommees les iles Fortunees, furent frequentees des Romains, maitres de I'Afrique Tingitane, dont elles ne sont pas eloignees; mais la decadence de l'empire romain ayant rompu toute communication entre les nations d'occident . . . , ces iles furent perdues pour nous." According to an article (unsigned) in the Encyclopaedia Britannica (14th ed., IV, 729) the Romans learned of the existence of the Canaries through Juba, King of Mauretania. Nothing is said of the Romans' having frequented the islands. 
21Poe's Works, XIV, 94. 221 have not come across this line in Voltaire. Miss Emma Kath­erine Norman, in an article on "Poe's Knowledge of Latin" (Am.erican Literature, VI, 72-77 (March, 1934), identifies the Latin as a line from the Aeneid, VI, 620. In a footnote she makes this comment: 
"Poe differs from the original here in the use of dicite instead of discite. Though Poe was well acquainted with Virgil, it is apparent that he took this line from Voltaire." (See Miss Norman's article, 
p. 	74.) 2aPoe's Works, XVI, 6. 24/bid., VI, 216. 25/bid., XIV, 62. 
grieve me much to add the 'incendite omnes illas mem­branas.' "26 Again in "Marginalia," Poe, having placed Ger­many in the first or impulsive epoch of literary civilization and England and France in the second or critical epoch, declares that he prefers "even Voltaire to Goethe."27 An indirect tribute to Voltaire occurs in "A Chapter of Sug­gestions," where Poe comments scornfully on such detrac­tors of genius as Freron and Desfontaines.28 "Bon-Bon" occasions a frivolous and less complimentary allusion. The Devil, who lives on souls and who has an aversion to "pickled spirits," explains, by reference to Voltaire's bar­gain with him, how he buys spirits "vivente corpore."29 
Some of these quotations Poe doubtless got second-hand; it is possible, even, that the comments are not altogether original, for in "Marginalia" Poe makes no pretense at originality. But the number of references and the tone of the comments seem to indicate firsthand knowledge, espe­cially of Voltaire's tragedies, tales, and the like. 
In a few instances Poe was, I think, indebted to Voltaire for materials that went into the making of his tales. The name "Zaire" in "Silence-A Fable"30 is clearly drawn from the play "Zaire." The twisting of names in "The Spee­tacles"-Froissart, Croissart, Voissart, and Moissart81-re­sembles Voltaire's in "Zadig"-Nabussan, Nussanab, Na­bassun, and Sanbusna.32 Poe's Dupin, master of ratiocina­
2&Jbid., XVI, 45. 
27Jbid., XVI, 117. 
2sJbid., XIV, 189. In a dozen or more of his satires and epistles and in yet other pieces Voltaire directs contemptuous ridicule against Freron and Desf ontaines. 
29Jbid., II, 144. Perhaps there is an indirect reference to Voltaire in "The Premature Burial," when Poe speaks of the universal delight in certain themes "too entirely horrible for the purposes of legitimate fiction" (Poe's Works, V, 255) and includes the earthquake at Lisbon among other examples. Voltaire's "Poeme sur le desastre de Lis­bonne" and his account of the same disaster in "Candide" were un­doubtedly known to Poe. 
soIbid., II, 220-224. 
SlJbid., V, 178. 
820euvres compl,etes, XXVII, 51. See also Poe's Works, XII, 135 f. 
tion, is no keener than Voltaire's Zadig, who describes the queen's dog and the king's horse to the royal servants and then declares that he has not seen these escaped animals but has merely reasoned from the evidence at hand.33 A brief passage in "Histoire des Voyages de Scarmentado" is at least suggestive of certain circumstances in "The Narra­tive of Arthur Gordon Pym." In Voltaire's story a man sails on a ship that is captured by African pirates. When the white captain complains about violation of the law of nations, the negro captain replies: "Vous avez le nez long, et nous l'avons plat; vos cheveux sont tout droits, et notre laine est frisee; vous avez la peau de couleur de cendre, et nous de couleur d' ebene; par consequent nous devons, par les lois sacrees de la nature, etre toujours ennemis."34 In Poe's tale, black islanders in remote southern regions evince instinctive and superstitious hatred of all white objects and hence prove treacherous and implacable enemies to white sailors.35 Two white survivors, having escaped with a black captive, observe that the black, like his fellow-tribes­men, is stricken with terror and murmurs "Tekeli-li ! Tekeli-li !"36 at sight of white animals or white cloth. Ques­tioned as to the motives of his countrymen in destroying the other white sailors, the captive finally pushes his thick lips apart to reveal his teeth. "These were black. We had never before seen the teeth of an inhabitant of Tsalal."37 As the boat is drawn farther south by a powerful current, great white birds screaming Tekeli-li fly from behind a mysterious white veil hanging, curtain-like, before the voyagers. Poe's note appended to the unfinished narrative explains that the strange configuration of an underground passage discovered in Tsalal forms the root of an Ethiopian 
33Qeuvres c<>mpletes, XXVII, 11-13. This similarity, easily descern­ible, was pointed out by E. D. Forgues in "Etudes sur le Roman an­glais et americain,'' Revues des deux mondes, XVI, 343-344 ( Oc­tober, 1846). 
34/bUl., XXVII, 128. 
35Poe's Works, III, 180-218. 
36/bUl., 240. 
31/bid., 241. 
Poe's Debt to Voltaire 
verb "to be shady." Certain indentures on the wall, of which the first is the crude figure of a man with arm out­stretched toward the south, are deciphered as the Arabic verb "to be white" and the Egyptian word "the region of the south." In conclusion Poe reviews a number of cir­cumstances in keeping with such an interpretation: "Tekeli-li ! was the cry of the affrighted natives of Tsalal upon discovering the carcass of the white animal picked up at sea. This also was the shuddering exclamation of the captive Tsalalian upon encountering the white materials in possession of Mr. Pym. This also was the shriek of the swift-flying, white, and gigantic birds which issued from the vapoury white curtain of the South. Nothing white was to be found at Tsalal, and nothing otherwise in the subse­quent voyage to the region beyond."38 In both stories enmity of the black man toward the white is conceived of, by the black himself, as a natural and inevitable result of physiological differences. Is it possible that the occurrences in Poe's tale represent an expansion and elaboration of 
Voltaire's idea?39 
A more patent similarity exists between incidents in "Candide" and "Loss of Breath." In "Candide" the indom­itable optimist Pangloss, who is supposed to have been hanged, reappears and explains why he is still alive. 
"Mais vous, mon cher Pangloss, dit Candide, comment se peut-il que je vous revoie? 11 est vrai, dit Pangloss, que vous m'avez vu pendre; je devais naturellement etre brUle; mais vous souvenez-vous qu'il plut a verse lorsqu'on allait me cuire: l'orage fut si violent qu'on desespera d'allumer le feu; je fus pendu, parce qu'on ne put mieux faire: un chirurgien acheta mon corps, m'emporta chez lui et me dissequa. II me fit d'abord une incision cruciale depuis le nombril jusqu'a la clavicule. On ne pouvait pas avoir ete plus mal pendu que je ne l'avais ete. L'executeur des hautes oeuvres de la sainte inquisition, lequel etait sous-diacre, brUlait ala verite les gens amerveille, mais il n'etait pas 
sspoe's Works, III, 245. 39Perhaps it is of little or no significance that Voltaire uses the word cendre in describing the white man's skin and that Poe intro­duces as one of the last phenomena "a fine wliite powder, resembling ashes-but certainly not such" (Poe's Works, III, 240) which falls -over the canoe and frightens the black man exceedingly. 
Studies in EngUsk 
accoutume a pend.re: la corde etait mouillee et glissa mal, elle fut nouee; enfin je respirais encore: !'incision cruciale me fit jeter un si grand cri, que mon chirurgien tomba a la renverse; et croyant qu'il dissequait le diable, il s'enfuit en mourant de peur, et tomba encore sur l'escalier en fuyant. Sa femme accourut au bruit, d'un cabinet voisin: elle me vit sur la table etendu avec mon incision cruciale; elle eut encore plus de peur que son marl, s'enfuit et tomba sur lui. Quand ils furent un peu revenus a eux, j'entendis la. chirurgienne qui disa.it au chirurgien: Mon hon, de quoi vous avisez-vous aussi de dissequer un heretique? ne savez-vous pas que le diable est toujours dans le corps de ces gens-la? je vais vite chercher un pretre pour l'exorciser. Je fremis ace propos, et je ramassai le peu de forces qui me restaient pour crier: Ayez pitie de moi! Enfin le barbier portugais s'enhardit: il recousit ma peau; sa. femme meme eut soin de moi; je fus sur pied au bout de quinze jours."4o 
In "Loss of Breath," Poe's hero, alive but out of breath, is likewise purchased by a surgeon who means to dissect him and who actually does make an incision, and he likewise is hanged but not killed. This is the account of his experience: 
"The purchaser took me to his apartments and commenced opera­tions immediately. Having cut off my ears, however, he discovered signs of animation. He now rang the bell, and sent for a neighboring apothecary with whom to consult in the emergency. In case of his suspicions with regard to my existence proving ultimately correct, he, in the meantime, made an incision in my stomach, and removed several of my viscera for private dissection. 
400ewvres completes, XXVII, 257-258. It has been called to my attention, by Professor Killis Campbell, that a likeness exists between the incidents here recorded and certain passages in "Some Words with a Mummy" (Poe's Works, VI, 116--138). In this story a group of scientists intend to dissect an Egyptian mummy, who, of course, is supposed to be dead, but who, upon the application of a galvanic battery to an incision in the great toe of the right foot, revives and kicks the chief doctor out through a window. All the other scientists are stricken with consternation, as are the surgeon and his wife in "Candide," over the revivification of Pangloss. On their way down­stairs to find the man who has been catapulted through the window, they meet him corning up. They then make an incision in the mummy's nose, apply the battery again, and bring the subject to life. Just as Candide expresses surprise that Pangloss is not dead, so they express surprise that the Egyptian is not dead; but, like the surgeon in "Can­dide," they sew up the subject's wounds and care for him, once they 
recover f rorn their astonishment. 
Poe's Debt to Voltaire 
"The apothecary had an idea that I was actually dead. This idea I endeavored to confute, kicking and plunging with all my might, and making the most furious contortions-£or the operations of the sur­geon had, in a measure, restored me to the possession of my facul­ties. All, however, was attributed to the effects of a new galvanic battery, wherewith the apothecary ... performed several curious experiments. . . . 
"Not being able to arrive at a conclusion, the practitioners remanded me for farther examination. I was taken up into a garret; and the surgeon's lady having accommodated me with drawers and stockings, the surgeon himself fastened my hands, and tied up my jaws with a pocket handkerchief-then bolted the door on the outside as he hur­ried to his dinner, leaving me alone to silence and to meditation."41 
When two cats begin to bite off the hero's nose, he arouses himself, breaks his fastenings, and escapes through a win­dow. He has the misfortune, though, to jump into a wagon which is conveying a robber to the scaffold, and being mis­taken for the criminal, is hanged. 
"The hangman .•. adjusted the noose about my neck. The drop fell. 
"I forbear to depict my sensations upon the gallows; although here, undoubtedly, I could speak to the point, and it is a topic upon which nothing has been well said. • • . 
"I may just mention, however, that die I did not. My body was, but I had no breath to be suspended; and but for the knot under my left ear (which had the feel of a military stock) I dare say that I should have experienced very little inconvenience."•2 
Of course there are several points of difference as well as of likeness between these two incidents. In Poe's story the hero is not hanged until after his experience with the sur­geon (his apparent lifelessness at that time being caused by his lack of breath), and he does not convince the surgeon that he is alive but makes his escape independently. Never­theless, it seems to me that Poe probably drew the incident from Voltaire. The very extravagance of the satire, too, would suggest Voltaire. 
Apparently Poe also used the writings of Voltaire as a source for certain observations in "Marginalia" and in 
•1Poe's Works, II, 157-158. 
421bid., 160. 

"Pinakidia." Voltaire, in Lettres philosophiques, notes the similarity between "Hudibras" and the "Satire Menippee": 
"II y a surtout un Poeme anglais difficile a vous faire connaitre; il s'appelle Hudibras. C'est un ouvrage tout comique, & cependant le sujet est la guerre civile du t.ems de Cromwel. Ce qui a fait verser tant de sang, & tant de larmes, a produit un Poeme qui force le lecteur le plus serieux a rire. On trouve un exemple de ce contraste dans notre Satire M enippee . ... 
"Le poeme d'Hudibras, dont je vous parle, semble etre un compose de la Satire M enippee & de Don Quick-Otte; il a sur eux l'avantage des vers; il a celui de !'esprit: la Satire Menippee n'en approche pas; elle n'est qu'un ouvrage tres-mediocre."43 
It seems likely that this comparison served as the basis of Poe's note in "Pinakidia," "The 'Satyre Menippee' of the French is, in prose, the exact counterpart of Hudibras in rhyme,"44 and of a query in "Marginalia," "Has any one ob· served the excessively close resemblance in subject, thought, general manner and particular point, which this clever com· position [a footnote indicates "The Satyre Menippee"] bears to the 'Hudibras' of Butler?"45 
Two more items of information placed significantly near each other were apparently drawn by Poe from Voltaire. The first, "Corneille's celebrated Moi of Medea is borrowed from Seneca. Racine, in Phaedra, has stolen nearly the whole scene of the declaration of love from the same puerile writer,"46 combines material from "Remarques sur Medee" and "Lettres sur OEdipe." In a detailed examination of Corneille's "Medee" Voltaire quotes the lines, 
"Dans un si grand revers que vous rest.e-t-il ?-Moi. 
... Moi, dis-je, et c'est assez," 

and then he comments, "Ce moi est celebre. C'est le Medea superest de Seneque. Ce qui suit est encore une traduction de Seneque."47 In "Lettres sur OEdipe" an estimate of 
43£ettres philosophiques, II, 147-148. 
44Poe's Works, XIV, 60. 
45lbid., XVI, 38. 
46lbid., XIV, 41. 
470euvres completes, XXX, 55. 
Poe's Debt to Voltaire 
Sophocles' play occasions the remark that people have never approved the "Hippolytus" of Seneca, "quoique Racine ait pris dans cet auteur toute la declaration de Phedre."48 The second item concerns an imaginary book. "A religious hubbub, such as the world has seldom seen, was excited dur­ing the reign of Frederic II. by the imagined virulence of a book entitled 'The Three Impostors.' It was attributed to Pierre des Vignes, chancellor of the king, who was accused by the Pope of having treated the religions of Moses, Jesus, and Mahomet as political fables. The work in question, however, which was squabbled about, abused, defended, and familiarly quoted by all parties, is well proved never to have existed."49 One of his epitres (a precis against atheism) Voltaire addresses "A l'auteur du livre des Trois Impos­teurs." But in "Faceties et Melanges Litteraires" he refers to the non-existence of "The Three Impostors" : "Cette fable 
[Swift's "Tale of a Tub"] conduit acette indifference qu'on reprocha ... a l'empereur Frederic II, et a son chancelier Vineis, qu'on accuse d'avoir compose le livre de tribus Im­postoribus, qui, comme vous savez, n'a jamais existe."50 And again, speaking of Bonaventure Desperriers, he records that Catherinot, councillor of Bourges, said: "'Nous avons deux livres impies que je n'ai jamais vus, l'un, de Tribus impostoribus; l'autre, le Cymbalum mundi.'" Voltaire adds, "Eh ! mon ami, si tu ne les a pas vus, pourquoi en parles-tu ?"51 
Two sentences of pessimistic philosophizing in "Margin­alia" echo the title and the substance of "Le Monde comme il va." In this tale Babouc, who is sent by Ituriel to decide whether wicked Persepolis (Paris) shall be destroyed or merely punished, finds that soldiers and magistrates buy their positions, that merchants fleece customers,-in short, 
4 B/bid., II, 28. 
49Poe's Works, XIV, 42. 
5°0euvres completes, XXVIII, 685-686. 
51/bid., 693. The a should of course be as, and appears as such in 

Oeuvres completes de Voltaire, ed. Moland, 52 vols. (Paris, 1877­1885) , XXVI, 496. 
that corruption is the path to high office or to wealth. Is it not probable, then, that Poe, having just read "Le M:onde comme il va,"5 2 picked up his pen and jotted down this re­flection: "In looking at the world as it is, we shall find it folly to deny that, to worldly success, a surer path is Vil­lainy than Virtue. What the Scriptures mean by the 'leaven of unrighteousness' is that leaven by which men rise" ?53 The pun is evidence that Poe, like Voltaire, could be cynical without bitterness and even without bad humor. 
There are also numerous less tangible similarities between the writings of Voltaire and Poe. These I shall not attempt to discuss at length, reserving them for fuller treatment elsewhere; but I wish to mention several points of kinship between the two in method and in thought. The critical methods and critical theories of Voltaire and Poe were re­markably alike. Voltaire, like Poe, analyzed literary pro­ductions with a minuteness that must have been exasperat­ing to mediocre authors; and both were notably fastidious about style-actual grammar, appropriateness of language, and versification. They were at one in their belief in the dignity of the stage; about the utter despicableness of bad writers, especially plagiarists, boasters, or revilers of the great; and about the essential nobility of genius. Their opinions on Paradise Lost and on the relative merits of an­cients and moderns were alike iconoclastic. Neither could accept one phase of Utilitarianism, and each voiced his dis­sent by means of exaggerated satire. Moreover, the ideas of Voltaire and Poe about God and the universe were in more than one respect similar. Both believed in a Creator essentially good but necessarily incomprehensible to man; both maintained that natural laws, once established, are incontrovertible, and they accordingly denied the possibility of divine intervention ; and both more than once advanced arguments in support of immortality.11' 
52/bid., XXVII, 91-108. 
53Poe's Works, XVI, 162. 
54See Poe's Works, V, 250; X, 159-160; XIV, 40-41; XV, 194; XVI, 

311-315. 
Poe's Debt to Voltaire 
As to the significance of these findings I confess I do not feel sure. Certainly it is clear that Poe had read a con­siderable part of Voltaire; and it is, I think, also clear that he drew upon his reading in Voltaire for some of his ma­terials. Numerous a.greements in thought--agreements which could be multiplied-lead me to believe that Poe, a liberal thinker of the nineteenth century, was influenced in more than one important respect by the great French liberal of the eighteenth century. 
WHITMAN'S BACKGROUND IN THE INDUSTRIAL MOVEMENTS OF HIS TIME 
BY MRS. ALICE LoVELACE COOKE 
One of the most important historical developments of Whitman's period was the emergence of the proletariat from the position of a subject class, unconscious of its rights, to that of a dominant class insistent upon its rights. But the perception of this development was not common in the fif­ties, for a combination of circumstances served for years to confuse the problems of labor and to make the history of American labor a unique one.1 Among those especially to be noted in connection with Whitman's backgrounds are the recognition of slavery from the beginning of national life; the presence of an undeveloped back country, where land was cheap and where the more ambitious among the poor could hope for economic and social amelioration; the con­stant flow of immigration to the East, which, though help­ing to stabilize industry, introduced race prejudice, and alien habits and traditions; and, finally, the rapid improve­ment of machinery, which brought about such a concentra­tion of industry that the laborer was forced to come to a realization of his rights or to perish. For Whitman it is particularly significant that even in his formative period the press entered actively into discussions of labor prob­lems. As an editor in the forties Whitman began to take part in these discussions, and he continued to the end of his life to be concerned with the interests and destiny of the laboring class in America. Apparently, however, he did not consider the problems of labor essentially different from other humanitarian problems; nor did he make any serious study of economic doctrines or theories, but relied for guidance largely on his social instincts and his faith in 
1Lewis, Austin, The Rise of The American Proletarian, Chicago, 1922, pp. 72 ff.; Beard, Mary, A Short History of the American Labor Movement, New York, 1920, pp. 2 ff. 
democracy.2 Like many anti-slavery men of the day, he felt that the labor problem would be practically settled with the abolition of slavery.3 
But it was inevitable that Whitman should be drawn into a discussion of trade-unionism and socialism, the two move­ments closely connected with the rise of the proletariat, and that the two should hover constantly in his backgrounds, even though their part in Leaves of Grass is not a conspicu­ous one. In this paper I shall endeavor to present some of the evidence of Whitman's contact with trade-unionism and socialism. 
Trade-unionism was, of course, a movement designed to solve by practical methods some of the problems of indus­trial life. Living as he did in New York, Whitman was in the center of the labor agitation that led finally to a na­tional organization of labor. Even in the thirties unions of tradesmen were organized in New York, and in 1834, when Whitman was beginning to learn the printer's trade, a convention was called for the purpose of effecting a na­tional organization. This was followed in the next few years by other conventions. All of these failed to bring about the desired national organization of the unions, but they bore some fruit in arousing the public on certain topics, which were also of special interest to Whitman, such as the need of free schools and libraries, the evils of long working hours and low wages, the unrestricted use of child labor, and the degradation of labor through the employment of slave laborers for a privileged class.4 Both the printers and carpenters-with whom Whitman was at times closely identified-had fairly strong organizations by 1850. Be­tween 1853 and 1854-the years immediately preceding the 
2He admitted to Traube!, for instance, that he knew John Stuart Mill only by name. See Traube!, H. L., Witk Walt Whitman in Cam­den, New York, 1902, I, 182. 
a/bi,d., III, 63. 
4Holloway, Emory, Tke Uncollected Poetry and Prose of Walt Whitman, Garden City, New York, 1920, I, 102, 137, 144, 148, 173, 220, 264. 
publication of Leaves of Grass-following a period of eco­nomic distress, the unions made strikes and collective bar­gaining the order of the day, over four hundred strikes oc­curring in the United States at one time, and twenty-five or thirty in New York City alone.5 At the opening of the Civil War, some of the labor leaders opposed the war on the ground that "the negro slave was better off than the starving wage earners."6 From the end of the war, through an increased concentration of capital and industry, to the final establishment of the Federation of Labor in 1885, labor agitation, strikes, unemployment demonstrations were con­stant, the trade unions coming more and more to control the development of labor. Whitman was too much of a news­paper man, on the one hand, and too much of an interpreter of events, on the other, not to be cognizant of all the im­portant labor developments of the day, even though during the seventies and eighties he was forced by ill health to withdraw from a close connection with labor activities. 
His early writings echo, as we have said, his interest in many of the topics discussed by the unions, but sometimes his tone indicated a reproof to those who made labor a shibboleth by which the selfish aims of a single trade or party could be achieved. Thus on July 9, 1846, in comment­ing upon an editorial in the New York Tribune urging the leveling of Fort Greene "in the interests of trade and com­merce," Whitman declared that he saw in trade and com­merce "noble agents for elevating man, . . . [for] tightening the bonds of brotherhood," but he scorned "the prostitution of their name, to achieve the pettiest ends."7 In another instance, he objected, as did the trade unionist, to the ineffi­cacy of political methods in dealing with labor problems, advocating in politics the encouragement of "superior de.. meanour" and "less shuffling and blowing."8 
5Beard, p. 64. 
6lbid., p. 66. 
7Rodgers, Cleveland, and Black, John, The Gathering of tke Forces, 

New York, 1920, II, 50. 8 The Uncollected Poetry and Prose, I, 262. 
In the question of wages, the pivotal question of the unions, Whitman was especially interested. In the Brook­lyn Eagle of November 9, 1846, after deploring the low wage level for women that ranged from fifty cents to two dollars a week, he concluded with the statement: 
What remedy for this miserable system, we are not prepared to suggest; but the first thing is to make the public aware that it is an evil.9 
Here it is to be noted that Whitman proposed no remedy beyond arousing public opinion, whereas the unions were more pragmatically inclined, and usually took steps to draw up a wage scale or to encourage women to organize.10 He emphasized again and again, however, the social importance of wages. He quoted as a principle of political economy that "poor pay is one of the profuse sources of crime," and he especially stressed the truth of the principle as applied to women.11 But in his discussions he had the interest of all workers at heart-not that of any particular trade or sex. He lamented, for example, that clerks-a class not generally active in trade unions-were compelled to be less independent than mechanics.12 When the Whigs were ar­guing in the late forties that a high tariff would lead to better wages, Whitman endeavored to show the working man the sophistry of the Whig argument, asking the laborer if he imagined in "his most abstracted dreams-that all this hubbub made by the pale-fingered richly-housed Whig manu­facturers, and their organs, [was] for him, the laborer."13 In this instance, he adopted the tone of the trade unionist, who tried to arouse the working man to a class-conscious­ness. In an early poem, "To Think of Time" (1855), he also made a direct reference to the wage agitation, though here his tone is calmer and more matter of fact: 
9lbid., I, 137. 
10Beard, p. 49. 
llThe Gathering of the Forces, I, 150, 157. 
12/bid., pp. 153, 156 ff. 
18lbid., I, 69. 
The markets, the government, the working-man's wages, to think what account they are through our nights and days.14 
Here as a poet he linked three ideas-trade, the government, and the laborer-with the implication that the success of the Republic depended upon their being closely associated. 
These early utterances indicate that Whitman responded sympathetically to the laborer's problems as set forth by the trade unions; but they offer little, if any, evidence that he was spokesman for any particular organization. 
In the last two decades of Whitman's life trade-unionism developed more and more into a movement in which the rights of labor were identified with the rights of man. A characteristic illustration of the temper of the time, is the advertisement in 1867, of a forthcoming publication, The Labor Organ and, Social Science Review, in which ap­pears the statement that "there are no rights but the rights to labor."15 The labor unions, moreover, began to stress the need of a reorganization of society in order to remedy "the unfair distribution of the products of labor between non­producing capital and labor."16 Such propaganda, together with an economic upheaval in these two decades, led, as we have already noted, to strikes and other demonstrations of the unemployed. In so far as Whitman saw a tendency in the later developments to separate labor problems from other social problems, he was, it appears, wholly unsympa­thetic with unions. 
The poet makes it plain in sundry jottings that he pon­dered deeply over the general distress following the panic of 1873. He had, as a matter of fact, been disturbed by a similar economic depression in 1857. At that time in an editorial in the Brooklyn Times he had called attention to the seriousness of the situation among laboring men and 
14Leaves of Grass, Inclusive edition, Holloway, Emory, Garden City, New York, 1925, p. 365. t5New York Tribune, April 24, 1867. 16Sylvis, James C., The Life, Speeches, Labors and Essays of Wil~ liam H. Sylvis, Philadelphia, 1872, p. 285. 
Whitman and the Industrial Movements of His Time 81 
had implored "all who [had] hearts to feel for others' woes to consider what [was] to be done."11 The leaders of organ­ized labor were busy then, as in 1873, urging the establish­ment of labor unions as the thing to be done; thus, by im­plication at least, Whitman in his plea for a sympathetic consideration of affairs rejected the union as a solution. In 1873, when the distress became acute, and when tramps from the unemployed infested the whole country and numer­ous strikes testified to the dissatisfaction of the industrial class, Whitman thought of delivering a lecture on "The Tramp and Strike Question." For some reason, probably ill health, the lecture was not delivered, but the message was published. Here without being an official mouth-piece of the trade unions he found the roots of the trouble to be in the existence of "miserably-waged populations," and he de­clared that "two grim and spectral dangers" [tramps and strikes, I take it, he means] long associated with the old World, threatened the peace, health, and social security of the New World; and that if the United States continued "to grow vast crops of poor, desperate, dissatisfied, nomadic, miserably-waged populations," then its "republican experi­ment, notwithstanding all its surface-successes;'' was "at heart an unhealthy failure."18 Later in February, 1879, he wrote again in his notes of the unhappy experience of see­ing "three quite good-looking American men, of respectable personal presence," engaged in getting their living as tramps, "their eyes cast down, spying for scraps, rags, bones, etc. "19 
In neither of these extracts does Whitman offer any sug­gestion that organized labor was to furnish the remedy for conditions; still he makes it clear that happiness would re­turn to America only after the elimination of such economic 
17Holloway, Emory, and Schwarz, Vernolian, I Sit and Look Out, New York, 1932, p. 74. 
18Whitman's Works, edited by Bucke, R. M., Harned, T. B., and Traubel, H. L., New York, 1902, V, 284, 286. 
i9Jbi.d., V, 286. 
distress. In the eighties, following some of the labor dis­turbances in Chicago, he remarked to Traubel : "We go from bad to worse until one day we land in a revolution."20 Here again the implication is that the methods of organized labor were leading the country to destruction.21 In a note, undated, but evidently the outgrowth of serious reflections on the unhappy condition of labor in the last two decades of his life, following the sharp alignment of capital against labor, Whitman wrote: 
The relations between the mass of employed persons on one side and employers ... on the other side is one of the vast, complicated, unsettled problems of America today-<me of the problems to which ... I confess I do not yet see any solution.... There are to be sure plenty of reforms and panaceas offered.22 
Evidently he did not here consider trade-unionism as the desired panacea. He insisted at another time that a su­~erior race of common men would solve the industrial prob­lem: it was a "question of manhood" and, he added em­phatically, "working men's strikes would develop little of that."23 He even went further, referring directly to the unions: 
They would set on their fell ow-working men who did not belong to their "union" like tigers or other beasts of prey. It was their "union" against the world.... When the labor agitation is other than a kicking of somebody else out to let myself in, I shall warm up to it, maybe.24 
Organized labor was, it seems then, too narrow in its in­terests to offer Whitman a cause. The theories of social­ism, prompted by the rise of the proletariat, had to do with 
20Traubel, II, 478. 21Many labor leaders also opposed the extreme methods used in Chicago and elsewhere, but theoretically these methods were among the developments from the principles of strikes and collective 
bargaining. 22whitman's Works, IX, 188 ff. 2s1n Re Walt Whitman, edited by Traube!, H. L., Bucke, R. M., and 
Harned, H. B., Philadelphia, 1893, p. 379. 
24/bid., p. 379. 

Whitman and the Industrial Movements of His Time 83 
the organization of the whole of society, and they provided, therefore, the poet with a broader program. In considering the developments of socialism in their relation to Whitman's literary backgrounds, one must, of course, keep in mind that the word "socialism" admits of various interpretations, for the socialists of Whitman's day were "notorious and subtle dialecticians" and set up many varieties of socialism.211 But it is almost certain that Whitman, who was not a subtle dialectician, did not bother himself with fine distinctions, 26 and if he were affected by socialism at all, he came under its influence only in so far as he could learn something of its most significant doctrines popularly disseminated. I shall therefore consider his reflection of socialistic doctrines as it comes out (1) in his statements on the ownership of property or the elimination of poverty; (2) in his division of society into laborers and non-laborers; (3) in his views on the relation between machinery and progress; (4) in his espousal of internationalism when nationalism was the dom­inating sentiment except among socialists. But before tak­ing up these four pivotal socialistic topics, I shall review briefly some of the early beginnings of socialistic propa­ganda in the United States. 
Whitman had abundant opportunity to know something of socialistic theories, since by the middle of his century the doctrines of socialism had already become topics of cur­rent discussion. The principles of Fourier, Marx, and Rob­ert Owen were generally dismissed, it is true, by Americans as smacking of anarchism and infidelity; but these prin­ciples were too closely related to democratic theories to be ignored completely. A practical example of their influence on American thinking is to be found in the establishment of a number of cooperative associations modeled on Fourier's 
25Ware, Norman J., Tke Labor Movement in the United States, New York, l.929, p. 109. 
26Whitman's discussions with Traube! in the lat.e eighties make clear that he had little technical knowledge of socialism. Those I refer to below (p. 91). 
theories ;M but the practical experiments as regards Whit... man and the general public were undoubtedly of less impor ... tance than the socialistic propaganda disseminated through newspapers, pamphlets, and speeches. Whitman could not have overlooked, for instance, Horace Greeley's sympathetic interpretations of socialistic theories which appeared from time to time in the New York Tribune, as, :for example, a statement that socialism aimed at removing "distinctions between master and menial, the rich and the poor, the learned and the unlearned."28 Or he could hardly have failed to come into touch with some of Robert Dale Owen's speeches, given in various cities to large and enthusiastic audiences and reported by newspapers far and wide, or printed in pamphlets. 29 He could scarcely have turned a deaf ear to such a doctrine as that propounded by Owen80 that "men, in the mass, cannot be miserable and virtuous."81 
One of the earliest hints of Whitman's interest in revolu... tionary doctrines is to be found in an editorial in the Brook... lyn Eagle entitled "The Power of the Pen." Here Whitman writes: 
At this hour in some part of the earth, it may be, that the delicate scraping of a pen over paper ... is at work which shall show its results sooner or later in the convulsion of the social or political world. Amid penury and destitution, unknown and unnoticed, a man may be toiling on to the completion of a book destined to gain ac­clamations, reiterated again and again, from admiring America and astonished Europe!s2 
27The earliest of these dated back to 1824, with Robert Owen's es­tablishment of a community in Indiana. In literary circles Brook Farm is, of course, the best known; but it was not so thoroughgoing an experiment as some of the others, as, for instance, a phalanx in New Jersey, which lasted fourteen years. 
2ssee the New York Tribune, October 31, 1866. 
29Fowler and Wells, Whitman's first publishers, published one of 
Owen's speeches in 1851. 
80Whitma:n described on one occasion Owen's face. See Tke Gather­
ing of the Forces, II, 115. 
810wen, Robert Dale, Labor: Its Hi-story and Prospects, New York, 
1851, p. 12. 
S2The Gathering of the Forces, II, 246 ff. 
Whitman and tke Industrial Movements of His Time 85 
This passage could easily be taken, thinks Cleveland Rod­gers, as a prediction of Karl Marx33 and Das Kapital; but whatever writer or work it referred to, it is evident that Whitman had in mind some of the revolutionary doctrines which were beginning to make their way into public discus­sions. A more definite illustration of his contact in his for­mative period with current socialistic thought is to be found in a facetious reference which he made to Fourierism in the New Orleans Crescent for May 20, 1848 : 
We don't know much about Fourierism-that we confess; but to us it seems a great objection that nobody, as far as we can learn from the system, is to do anything but be 1w1ppy. Now who would peel the potatoes and scrub the floors? The N. Y. Sunday D-ispatck advocates Fourierism.34 
These early journalistic references to socialism are of interest primarily because they are supported by various other expressions from Whitman that suggest socialistic principles. The question of the private ownership of prop­erty as argued by the socialists must have contributed some­thing to the following entry in one of his notebooks in 1848 : 
The ignorant man is demented with the madness of owning things. . . . But the wisest soul knows that no object can really be owned by one man or woman any more than another. The orthodox proprietor says This is mine, I earned or received or paid for it.... Yet ... that dismal and measureless fool ... that ... would grab blessings to him­self, as by right, and deny others their equal chance--and will not share with them everything that he has.35 
That opposition to private ownership of property had some part in his social creed is further suggested by two other passages in his notes : 
The only way in which anything can really be owned is by the in­fusion or inspiration of it in the soul,36 
and, 
38lbi.d., I, xiv. 
34Tke Uncollected Poetry and Prose, I, 229. 
35Jbi.d., II, 67; I, 38, 111. 
sawhitm.an's Works, IX, 153. 
I tell you greedy smoucher ! I will have nothing which any man or any woman, anywhere on the face of the Earth, or of any color or country can not also have.37 
But even more convincing is the fact that the same attitude is expressed many times in Leaves of Grass. Two passages will serve to illustrate : 
... I will accept nothing which all can not have their counterpart on the same terms.38 Many sweating, ploughing, thrashing, and then the chaff for payment receiving, A few idly owning, and they the wheat continually claiming.89 
In practical life, however, Whitman's actions were some­what inconsistent with this socialistic doctrine, if an edi­torial in the Brooklyn Times on May 5, 1857, may be re­garded as standing for his own conviction; for here he op­posed the municipal ownership of the gas works.40 
In the first decades after the Civil War, when the concen­tration of capital and industry led to considerable discus­sion among traditional socialists on the "science of wealth," Whitman made some remarks on the "poverty question" which definitely show his concern over this discussion. 
Beneath the whole political world [he wrote], what most presses and perplexes today ... is not the abstract question of democracy, but of social and economic organization, the treatment of working­people by employers, and all that goes along with it . . . not only the wages ... but a certain spirit and principle, to vivify anew these relations; all the questions of progress ... really evolving themselves ... out of the Poverty Question ("The Science of Wealth," and a dozen other names are given it, but I prefer the severe one just used) . . . . The wealth of the civilized world, as contrasted with its poverty­what does it derivatively stand for, and represent? ... As in Europe the wealth of today mainly results from, and represents, the rapine, murder, outrages, treachery, hoggishness, of hundreds of years ago and onward, later, so in America...• 41 
87Wkitman's Works, I, 203. 
88£eaves of Grass, p. 44. 
89/bid., p. 65. 
40/ Sit and, Look Out, p. 127. 
41Wkitman's Works, V, 284. 
Whitman and the Industrial Movements of His Time 87 
Here he definitely fixed the blame for poverty on the greed of a few and on the failure of traditional theories of govern­ment to remedy the situation. In Democratic Vistas the question of poverty is again discussed : 
The true gravitation-hold of liberalism in the United States will be a more universal ownership of property, general homesteads, general comfort---a vast, intertwining reticulation of wealth ... democracy looks with suspicious, ill-satisfied eye upon the very poor, the ignorant, and on those out of business. She asks for men and women with oc­cupations, well-off, owners of houses and acres, and with cash in the bank.42 
Here Whitman clearly followed the socialist in his insistence upon the doing away with poverty; but his method is, ap­parently, as suggested especially by the phrase "cash in the bank," by means of a capitalistic democratic state rather than by a socialistic state. But whatever his conclusions, the two statements taken together testify to the influence of socialistic ideas on his thinking. 
Whitman also reveals in his writings a sympathy with current socialistic thought in his division of society into two classes, "the laboring many" and "the laboring not."43 Like the socialists, he saw no place in an ideal society for the strictly leisure class. He wrote contemptuously more than once of that idle class popularly known as "society."44 He found an important place, however, for the thinkers of the world-scientists, teachers, philosophers, and poets, though, like the socialist, he did not put one worker above another. One of his cardinal tenets is contained in this statement in the "Song of the Exposition" : 
For every man to see to it that he really do something, for every woman too.45 
But he did not seek to eliminate from the world the two classes, capitalists and laborers. He rather leaned, on the 
42lbid., v, 82 ff. 
4SLeaves of Grass, p. 170. 
44Whitman's Works, V, 62, 218, 280; The Unc..ollected Poetry and 
Prose, II, 210. 
45£eaves of Grass, p. 171. 
Studies in English, 
contrary, towards keeping the two in the United States. He wrote in Democratic Vistas that he looked hopefully to the future to develop a "practical, stirring, worldly, money­making" materialistic state, that "the almost maniacal ap­petite for wealth" in the United States was a part of "ameli­oration," and that his theory included "riches, and the get­tings of riches."46 He went even further and declared: 
I think that notwithstanding all set-offs the great capitalists and masters of private enterprise, have, in America at least, been useful. I have myself had all along a tender feeling for Cooperation, but for that doubt whether a committee or an elected person could or would do the work,47 
By "Cooperation" he means undoubtedly the socialistic scheme of abolishing the distinction between the producer and non-producer; but his "tender feeling" did not lead to an unqualified rejection of the capitalist.48 Still, however, we have evidence that his division of society into "the labor.. ing many" and "the laboring not" owed something to so­cialistic doctrine. 
In his attitude towards machinery, Whitman differed from some of the traditional socialists, who for many years were hostile towards machinery, in that they considered its introduction the cause of the development of Capitalism.49 This particular theory had become widely disseminated be­cause it offered the unemployed worker a concrete explana .. tion of his unhappy condition. But Whitman-as if to off­set such a theory-brought into his poetry practically all the significant inventions of his day by way of indicating something of the importance he attached to them. Nor was he, it should be observed, merely the reporter with his eye 
46Wkitrnan's Works, V, 83. 47Carpenter, Edward, Days with Walt Whitman, London, 1906, pp. 38 ff. 4Blnasmuch as it was the Knights of Labor who were the most per­sistent advocates of "Cooperation," Whitman may here give evidence of some influence from that noted order. 49Carlton, F. T., The History and Problems of Organized Labor, Boston, 1911, p. 114. 
Whitman and the Industrial Movements of His Time 89 
on every new-fangled machine; he was the poet, who pointed out the meaning of these inventions in the progress of the world.50 Nor did he change his attitude later in life, when some of the leading writers of the day joined with the so­cialists in decrying a machiiie age. In reference to a news­paper story on Tennyson's protests against the introduction of a railroad near him in the Isle of Wight, Whitman re­marked to Traube! that he "did not sympathize with such sensitiveness"-that he did "not fear the age of steam."51 Then he added: 
There is Ruskin: Ruskin seems to think himself constituted to pro­test against all modern improvements.52 
In fact, neither the opposition of the literati nor that of the practical socialist could shake his faith in the machine age, though their opposition may have led him to an expres­sion of his faith. 
Another cause which Whitman espoused in common with the socialist was that of internationalism. Although there were internationalists in Whitman's time who were not so­cialists, historically one of the strongest movements of his day was that of nationalism, and to the socialist belongs the er-edit of presenting to the world at this critical time the counter-claims of internationalism. Whitman, for all his patriotism and over-topping pride in the peculiar stamp of America's nationality, showed at least a leaning toward in­ternationalism from the beginning. 53 One of his favorite phrases was "the solidarity of the race," by which he meant friendliness and peace, a community of interests among the races of the world. Even in his editorials of the forties he more than once contrasted the blessings under American conditions and institutions with the sufferings in war-torn 
50Leaves of Grass, p. 299. 
51Traubel, III, 365. 
52Jbid., III, 365. 
5SFurness, C. J., in Walt Whitman's Workskop, Cambridge, 1928, pp. 160, 162, indicates that Whitman's "international consciousness" was somewhat late in dawning. 
Europe, where the masses were struggling through ignor­ance and servility for a vague taste of the liberty enjoyed by Americans, but always with the point of view of one who was a "lover of his race ... whose good-will [was] not bounded by a shore or a division line."54 In "Song of My­self" he declared in 1855 that, 
... all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers.55 
Under the title of "Years of the Moderns" he wrote in 1865: 
I see not America only, not only Liberty's nation but other nations preparing, I see tremendous entrances and exits, new combinations, the soli­darity of races.5s 
In the latter part of his life, when the questions of an in­creased tariff and the restriction of immigration were much debated, he expressed himself even more strongly in behalf of internationalism. Thus is 1888, in defending his belief in free trade, he declared to Traubel: 
Why am I a free-trader? a free-trader in the large sense? It is for solidarity: free-trade makes for solidarity: the familiar, full, sig­nificant word: and I hope, oh I hope, there has been no failure to man­ifest the fact in my books. I know in my own heart that every line I ever wrote--every line--not an exception-was animated by that feeling.57 
So, too, he spoke out vehemently against restriction of im­migration, declaring that America must welcome "all, with­out exceptions."58 He stood, indeed, with the Socialist in opposing any national barrier. Whitman, as a poet, em­phasized internationalism as an ideal for developing friend­liness and peace; whereas the Socialist saw it rather as a practical means of uniting the workmen of the world 
54The Gathering of the Forces, I, 12, 37, 10; II, 176. 
55Leaves of Grass, p. 27. 
56/bid., p. 405. 
57Traubel, III, 366 ff. 
58/bid., II, 34. 
against capitalism, although he did not, of course, thereby necessarily exclude Whitman's ideal. 
This putting some of Whitman's ideas in juxtaposition with some of the traditional doctrines disseminated by the socialists of his day offers little positive evidence that the poet was an outspoken adherent of socialism; but it does show that he had an emotional and intellectual congeniality with some of the ideals of socialism as propagated in Amer­ica during his most prolific years. His writings that ap­pear to be tinged with socialistic doctrines may, moreover, have back of them other influences. His utterances on wealth and internationalism, for instance, may possibly go back to the Bible, which was a strong influence in his youth. Clearly, however, with the development of industrialism, the labor problem became a serious one, and the natural result for a man of Whitman's social conscience was that he should consider carefully all programs concerned with social amelioration,59 even though he relied more on his own in­stincts and intuitions than on any theoretical plan. The in­fluence of socialism on Leaves of Grass is therefore mainly indirect, though the echoes of socialistic doctrine that may be caught in Whitman's pages have led some of the social­ists to regard Whitman as their poet.60 
119My conclusions are strengthened by Whitman's discussions of so­cialism with Traubel in the last years of his life. When these dis. cussions are concerned with the technicalities of socialism, they re­semble a Socratic dialogue in which Traubel or some other ardent socialist is the teacher, and Whitman, the kind, patient old man, the pupil. Whitman felt, so he told Traubel, that Leaves of Grass was responsible for the socialists rather than derived from them. Still he admitted he was more of a socialist than he thought. He declared to Traubel, moreover, that most of the "square round fellows" were be­coming socialists, and he felt that socialism would ultimately come, though he confessed that he shrank from it in many ways. See Trau­bel, I, 22, 65, 193; II, 4, 37, 486, 521; Ill, 135, 360, 412, 422, 477, 478 ff. 
GOSee Floyd Dell, "Walt Whitman, Anti-Socialist," The New Re­view, III, 85 (June, 1915). Dell does not go into an analysis of Whit­man's socialistic leanings, but he calls him anti-socialist because he makes instinct instead of intellect rule the world.