much caution, or the new Indo-European philology will fall back into the old etymological chaos, where everything was made out of everything else. We believe that among recent investigators, those who, like Curtius, have been most rigorous and scrupulous in their methods have added most to the sum of ascertained and unquestionable truth. To show that Westphal belongs to a different order of philologists, it would be enough to refer to page 158, where he explains the epic caseending and the common adverbial ending e, as both of them made from the locative by inserting a ø in the one case and a 6 in the other. Thus oko and otkop (if this was used) are only modified forms of oiko (at home). And again, where two forms of a word are found differing like σréyos and réyos (roof), one beginning with a before another consonant, the other without the σ, he will not admit that there is ever reason to regard the fuller form as the original one; on the contrary, he declares (page 102) that in every such case the original form is the shorter. Thus réyos he makes to be earlier than σréyos, though the initial s appears in the Sanskrit root sthag (to cover), and in the Lithuanian stegiu (cover), stogas (roof). Recognizing xipos (more correctly xidpov, "toasted wheaten groats ") as connected in derivation with oxi (to split), he declares the σ of the verb to be a later addition to the root, although the Latin has scindo, perfect scidi, and the Sanskrit chid implies according to the usual law a primitive skid; to which we must add the Lithuanian skedzu, and probably (notwithstanding its unchanged d) the Gothic skaidan, German scheiden. Does Westphal regard the falling away of a before another consonant as an impossible and incredible change? Would he pronounce the common Latin lis, gen. litis, to be more primitive than the archaic stlis, stlitis, which so remarkably corresponds to Anglo-Saxon stridh, Old Norse strid, Old High German strit?

A striking proof of the freedom of our author's principles may be seen in his discussion of the numeral four (page 423). He shows that the common Greek réoσapes implies a stem TerFap; and that the Aeolic Tíoupes implies a stem TerFap; while in the Latin is seen a stem quatuor. These all agree in their second syllable rFap, but differ in the initial mute of their first syllable, where we find (as Westphal says) the whole triad of tenues or smooth mutes. "Which of these forms" (he asks) "can be considered older than the others? is it the one with p, or the one with k, or the one with t? As here, almost within each of the kindred languages, we find in different dialects an analogous interchange between the organ-classes [labial, guttural, and dental], we must hold this interchange to be original: at the outset people could use at pleasure any one of these three consonants as the

initial of the word four." "Indeed" (he adds) "it almost seems as if the numeral four contained in itself the numeral three, with a prefixed syllable consisting of any tenuis, taken at pleasure, and followed by the simplest vowel a, this prefixed syllable representing the extension of the notion three by a unit." This theory gives us a curious glimpse into the state of things during the times of Indo-European unity. The people then, it seems, could not agree on a designation for the number four. That there must be a tvar in it, nobody doubted; and it was equally clear that this tvar must be preceded by a surd mute with ă. But what should this surd mute be? There were three possibilities, a p, a k, and a t; and there were as many parties as possibilities. It may be thought strange that, having agreed perfectly on five sounds out of the six, they should have failed completely in coming to an understanding on the sixth. But so it was. The friends of p,

of k, of t, stuck each one to his own letter. Whichever was used, the word was equally intelligible; but nobody would give up his favorite pronunciation. And so it went on until the parent speech divided into its main branches. The common ancestors of the Grecks and Romans, when they began to have a language of their own, were still hopelessly at variance on this point, and thus brought the three forms of four into the new language. Even the first speakers of Greek, when that became separated as a distinct speech from the Italican, inherited the ancient quarrel, and brought into the Greek two at least, if not all three, of these forms. A similar confusion must have existed from the earliest times in reference to the interrogatives. To the Latin quid and the Oscan pid corresponds the Greek ri. Here again the same trio of surd-mute forms, all of which our author holds to have been alike original. The formers of the Indo-European tongue could not agree on an interrogative stem. It must consist, they all admitted, of a surd mute with . But what mute? Some said p, some k, some t; each one took his choice, and held on to his letter. We confess that to our mind there is something hard to imagine in this mixture of agreement and disagreement in the first speakers of the Indo-European, especially when we suppose it handed down to the first speakers of the GræcoItalican, and even to the first speakers of the Greek itself. Nor do we see any necessity for making a supposition so improbable to account for a variety of forms, where all might arise by known laws of change from one common original.

Looking at this volume as a whole, we must say that it seems to us a slipshod production. It has not been worked out with the care and pains and patience which the author was bound to bestow upon it by a

regard as well for his own reputation as for the interest of his readers. At the same time we cheerfully acknowledge that it is in many respects ingenious and interesting. It was not an easy task to arrange the material of Greek grammar according to the views and methods of comparative philology. This is the task which Westphal has proposed to himself; and if in his execution of it we find a good deal to criticise, we must make due allowance for the difficulties which beset one who ventures to depart from the beaten track. We must give him credit for recognizing, what so many classical scholars in Germany are still loath to admit, that the treatment of Greek grammar cannot fail to be largely affected by the results of comparative philology. Among German classicists of the old school there has always been a certain disposition to look with jealousy on this new science of language, and to shut off its professors called Sanskritists, or Indianists from all unauthorized intrusion into the domain of Greek and Latin. This feeling is very frankly expressed by Ellendt in the preface to his excellent Lexicon Sophocleum: "There are two things which seem most to hinder the true knowledge of ancient letters. One is that those who know nothing of Greek and Latin, and who cannot abide the arduous way of becoming skilled in them, prefer to stammer in Sanskrit (Sanscritice balbutire malunt). Using this as a common key for all languages, they perceive at once what could be said or ought to be said (quid dici potuerit debueritve), what is the origin of words and the law of their formation and inflection, and what resemblance, nay, almost kinship of speech, subsists among nations the most widely severed. In this sort of philosophizing they impose on the ignorant by striking out plausible figments, which contain forsooth the very marrow of wisdom; and they so abuse their own minds, that even things which elude the most diligent cultivators of these studies, such things they are bold enough to believe have been found out by men without learning, by themselves first, or by others like them." He goes on to say that he means no disrespect to Sanskrit; he regards it as a valuable study, and fitted to throw light on the beginnings of language; in other words, it is very good in its place, but must learn to keep its place, and not presume to interfere with Greek and Latin scholarship. The feeling represented in these utterances is, however, gradually passing away. The Greek Grammar of Georg Curtius, with the explanation and defence of his method given in the "Elucidations of my Grammar," has made a strong and general impression. And this new grammar of Westphal, with all its faults, will not be without effect in the same direction.

7.- The Holy Roman Empire. By JAMES BRYCE, D. C. L., Fellow of Oriel College and Professor of Civil Law in the University of Oxford. Third edition revised. London: Macmillan & Co. 1871. 12mo. pp. 424.

WHEN Guizot is enumerating and describing the elements of society which existed at the commencement of the sixth century, he says that the Empire had bequeathed two things to the modern world,the municipalities, and "the idea of the Empire, the name of Emperor, the idea of imperial majesty, of an absolute, sacred power attached to the name of Emperor." This is all he has to say in regard to the Empire. It is extinct, a memory of it survives, and in imitation of it Charlemagne establishes his new empire in the eighth century. Probably all readers of these lectures have felt that something is wanting here; that the Roman Empire played a larger part in modern civilization than would be gathered from Guizot's words; that it was more than a mere memory or idea. But the analysis of this element was left for other hands. In English literature the great work of Sir Francis Palgrave, the "History of England and Normandy," stands perhaps alone in boldness and breadth of treatment in this difficult and disputed field of historical activity; but Sir Francis left an unfinished work, which few Americans have ever had patience to study. Mr. Freeman promises at some future time to take up the same subject, and if he carries out his pledge, the work will be done with faithfulness and very decided ability. But as yet little has been accomplished by English hands towards clearing away the thick veil of darkness which obscures early German history, as seen from an English stand-point. The Germans, on the other hand, remarkable as they are for success in dealing with all periods of history they touch, have excelled themselves in regard to their own. The wealth of their literature in this direction is alarming to the foreigner who gains even a distant view of it. Their collections of original authorities alone are rapidly extending to the infinite. Their studies of the institutions of their ancestors are innumerable, and yet the subject is very far indeed from receiving its final shape. Few or none of these German works have been thought worthy of translation. Even Giesebrecht, whose History of the German Empire may, when measured by a German standard, be called a popular book, has as yet found no English interpreter; and if this is the case with an author so widely known as Giesebrecht, there is little prospect that special students like Waitz, or eccentric geniuses like Gfrörer, will ever be brought before an English audience. Mr. Bryce's little book comes, therefore, to supply an

immense void in English literature, and has received a hearty welcome accordingly.

"Strange," says Sir Francis Palgrave, "that historians should have encouraged each other in the error that the Roman Empire, extinguished, as they say, in Augustulus, was now (under Charlemagne) restored. Restored! - never had it been suspended, either in principles, maxims, or feelings. The shattered, pillaged, dilapidated Empire was still one state, one community; the nations of Christendom were bound together by one common faith. Distracted Christendom fell miserably short in practice, nevertheless the idea of religious unity was firmly inherent. . . . . Moreover, Christendom had to dread a rival empire, the empire of Islam, under one chief, one caliph, uniting temporal and spiritual authority; and was not one emperor equally needed for Christendom? Hence Charlemagne's call: Ne Pagani insullarent Christianis si Imperatoris nomen apud Christianos cessasset."

The Empire was never divided and never extinct. The crowning of Charlemagne was not, in the eyes of contemporaries, the establishment of a new empire, not even the revival of the extinct empire of the West; but a restoration to its lawful seat of the Roman Empire, which had for centuries been in exile, and had now been disgraced by the heresy of the Isaurian dynasty and the murderous usurpation of Irene.

Rome, to the people of the Middle Ages, was by right the capital of the world, the head of both the political and the religious system of Europe; a notion that we have seen lately reappear in the protest of some American Catholics against its incorporation with the Kingdom of Italy, on this very ground. From the medieval point of view, this claim is a perfectly just one; and in the chapter on the "Theory of the Medieval Empire," Mr. Bryce gives a very striking and instructive view of the relations between the Popes and the Emperors, the two co-ordinate heads of Christendom. "The Holy Roman Church and the Holy Roman Empire are one and the same thing in two asspects; and Catholicism, the principle of the universal Christian society, is also Romanism, that is, rests upon Rome as the origin and type of its universality; manifesting itself in a mystic dualism which corresponds to the two natures of its founder. As divine and eternal, its head is the Pope, to whom souls have been intrusted; as human and temporal, the Emperor, commissioned to rule men's bodies and acts" (p. 106). It follows necessarily that "opposition between two servants of the same king is inconceivable, each being bound to aid and foster the other; the co-operation of both being needed in all that con