Biegan, which as a causative is sometimes found, followed by an object and a to-prepositional phrase,113 and once at least by an infinitive.114

Berenian, 'arrange, cause,' which is apparently a lexical word. See Bosworth-Toller.

Bringan, which is found in collision with a pat-clause; 115 with an object plus an attributive participle; 116 and with a to-prepositional phrase.117

Wyrcan, which is recorded a few times in causative use.118 In at least one instance an infinitive follows wyrcan, where it translates facere plus an infinitive.119 With a following clause I have not found the verb, but I have noted a following object and objective complement,120 and an object plus a to-prepositional phrase. 121

In the Old English written record are found several verbs of implied causation, verbs which express an instigation to action exerted upon an agent actor but which do not represent the action as having been completed. Verbs of this sort are mannian, 'suggest,' exhort'; eggian, egg, incite'; bescufan, 'impel'; sprytan, 'incite'; tihtan, 'exhort.'

Bringing about an action through an unwilling agent is usually represented in the Old English record by niedan. Grades of emphasis of the causative element are well illustrated by the following climactic sentence from Wulfstan's Homilies: 122 pa he wile preatian and ægeslice wyldan and earmlice pingan... and neodunga nydan pat he... Fading of the compulsory sense in niedan is shown by its convertible use with don in the translation

1 See Wülfing, op. cit., I, 215; Ælfric's Homilies, 1, 362, 34.

14 Psalms, 143, 14, cited by Callaway, op. cit., p. 110.

a15 Salamon and Saturn, 31-32.

11 Gothic uses gawaurkjan as a causative with a following infinitive; as, Mark, 3, 14; Luke, 9, 14. See appended tables below. O. S. giuuirkean with object and objective complement is found in the Heliand (for example, 161, 2108).

110 Lindisfarne Gospel, Luke, 5, 34.

150 Genesis, 254; Alfric's Homilies, 1, 254, 8; 1, 482, 19.

121 John, 10, 33; Wulfstan's Homilies, 163, 2.

of cogis in Metrum 5, Bk. I of Boethius' De Consolatione Philosophiae by gedest in the Old English prose translation and by genedest in the poetical version.

The normal construction after the verb is a pat-clause.123 It is followed also by an object plus a to-prepositional phrase, and, in one or two instances, by an infinitive. Of the last use Callaway 124 cites Mark, 6, 45 as an example. Cura Pastoralis 125 presents an example of a following inflected infinitive. In Middle English, neden shares in the movement toward the infinitive short-cut, along with don, macian, and other verbs that are clause bound in Old English writing.

Comparatively small use was made in the Old English written record of the three causative form-words-don, lætan, macianwhich in Middle English writing find wide employment in this function and continue so to be used until toward the end of the period, when make (n) is fixed as the general causative, when do (n) sheds its causative use for its heavy task of tense formation, and lete(n) practically loses its causative function for its particularization as a subjunctive auxiliary. Of these three verbs, macian, the most common in Modern English, is most sparsely represented in Old English writing. An account of the behavior of these words in the language material lying between Old and Modern English will soon be given in an article on Middle English causatives. This paper has, it is hoped, at least cleared the way for presenting that study.

The University of North Carolina.

123 Luke, 14, 23. Here and elsewhere (Gal., 6, 12 for example) Gothic puts an infinitive after naupan.

The clouds are on the Oberland,

The Jungfrau snows look faint and far,
But bright are those green fields at hand,

And through those fields comes down the Aar.

There used to be current in Cambridge a story, true I hope, of Mr. Lowell's definition for the class in Government of the rare species, philosophers. For the youths about to read the prescribed portions of Plato and Aristotle, it may have cleared the ground to have the concrete example presented, "A philosopher is Mr. Santayana; we have him here, across the street from my house, to write beautiful books to tell later ages what we are like now,you and me."

It was at some generations removed from Cambridge-back somewhere on the confines of the Wars of Religion in a region. that some penetrating spirits from the Yard have tended to envisage as ballad-land for the sudden motor quality of its reactions to differences of opinion,-that I had to consider the genus, philosopher, as represented by Montaigne, with a body of young women also all in their eighteenth or nineteenth year. The circumstances of somewhat complex duty had made me accept this charge. French Canadians abound in the region and it was hoped that some might be persuaded, as happened, to enter the War. It was also hoped that the young women who had "taken" French might be a little more clever in dealing with them, if French authors were made to appear less strange than worth while. What, then, was my sense of confusion, when after quite an orgy of sermons, in which Pessimism was set up before us as a Latin bogey,

or a moral Tam O'Lin, given to devouring the young descendants of those who had tried their hand at a little witch burning, Montaigne was turned over to us with the label, pessimist, firmly affixed. Moreover, with the help of this label, and a sort of sausage-link diagram arrangement of the devious ways of the Renaissance and Reformation, I was to obtain in some six weeks' time a paper or report from these classes including the Apology of Raimond Sébond!

If my previous farings had disposed me to a very moderate gratitude for these leading strings, once the first sense of the comic about them had worn off a little, I did have my own sense of obligation, and indeed of privilege in presenting Montaigne to youth on any terms. It seemed to me that from Emerson to Pierre Villey a good many clever people had been working to help us understand him. And in spite of these quaint survivals I had to deal with there was the hope that with some tact and candor a few traits might be presented which would not be belied, or even seem to be, by later profane studies in which the young women might indulge.

If I read, then, certain well-worn passages from Representative Men to start with, and with lively appreciation renewed, the volumes of Miss Norton and Professor Strowski, I also set myself at the texts that were indicated with as much fresh concern for the virgin soil before me as possible, as I marked the texts. What, after all, were the indubitable and salient facts about this "pessimist" or whatever, what we like to call the essentials?

May I summarize very briefly, then, the impression I thus received and tried to convey? I found myself, on the simple approach, as convinced as I had been with what we call the 'research' one I had made hitherto, that the Neo-Platonic atmosphere of the second half of the sixteenth century is the natural background for Montaigne. On the broadest basis of explanation we have a man concerned like Plato and his disciples with politics and ideas together, in relation with both private ethics and public duty. If any modern books are significant in his connection they would seem to be, not so much any particular volumes called Essays before his own as the Dialectique and Gramère of Ramus, and the printed volumes of the political theorists of the same generation as Raimond Sébond which about this time begin to appear.

That is to say, Montaigne really existed in a circumambient atmosphere of the Neo-Platonic speculation which had come down like the Rhone in its underground passage from Classical times to his own. I say Neo-Platonic in the literal sense of the term, for the new Platonism that he approaches, like many other moments of it through the Middle Ages, is often singularly and freshly Platonic. It is not Plotinian, I mean, not esoteric, and in the more usual sense, mystical, so much as it is a kind of creative imitation of Plato himself, and of his authentic disciples like Plutarch. Montaigne, like his mediæval predecessors, perhaps among them Sébond himself, is imitating the Dialogues and Plutarch's Morals at once? The number of specific citations and references, however interesting, may be of less critical value than some few peculiarly forceful allusions and tricks of manner, or some more or less hidden inspiration, susceptible of sympathetic rather than external detection. We may call this psychology or tact according to the situation, and none of us has ever too much if we use all we have.

In the Preface to Faguet's 16th Century, which is so rare an example of this quality, there is in especial one bit of analysis which we need to lay hold on firmly in Montaigne's connection, not only because or if we are addressing ourselves in America to non-Latin minds, for the most part, to descendants of Puritan romantics, in the majority:

... L'humaniste a deux hommes en lui, l'un pour lui et l'autre pour l'art, l'un qui est chrétien, qui est Parisian, qui và à Notre-Dame, qui aime son roi et qui aime sa femme; l'autre qui est païen, qui est Romain, qui adore Jupiter, qui est républicain, et qui aime Glycère; et que le premier vit la vie pratique, et que le second écrit, et que le second ne met dans ses écrits rien ou presque rien du premier. Et, ceci reconnu, la conséquence qu'en en tire est curieuse.

"Curious," the word has long seemed appropriate to the Essays. May not one aspect of that blend or antimony be with Montaigne his purpose, but half avowed from the modesty before antiquity which goes with the Renaissance pride before the scholastics, to construct some such new philosophic mirror as Plato's, and how many through the Middle Ages! reflecting the highest criticism of his time? The place of Etienne de la Boëtie in the Essays as a kind of Socrates to his Plato seems to me to emerge from such a consideration, in his work and art at least analogous. The