(Continued from p. 514.)

In a previous communication, fighting under the shield of a great authority, I attempted to prove that the effigies of the mediÆval tombs presented the semblance of death—death in grandeur, mortality as the populace were accustomed to behold it, paraded in sad procession through the streets, and dignified in their temples. The character of the costume bears additional testimony to their supposed origin, and strongly warrants this conclusion. It is highly improbable that the statuaries of that age would clothe the expiring ecclesiastic in his sacerdotal robes, case the dying warrior in complete steel, and deck out other languishing mortals in their richest apparel, placing a lion or a dog, and such like crests or emblems, beneath their feet. They were far too matter-of-fact to treat a death-bed scene so poetically. The corpse however, when laid in state, was arrayed in the official or the worthiest dress, and these heraldic appurtenances did occupy that situation. Thus in 1852 were the veritable remains of Prince Paul of Wurtemburg, in full regimentals and decorated with honours, publicly exhibited in the Chapelle Ardente at Paris (Illustrated London News, vol. xx. p. 316.). Unimaginative critics exclaim loudly against the anomaly of a lifeless body, or a dying Christian, being thus dressed in finery, or covered with cumbrous armour; and such would have been the case in former days had not the people been so familiarised with this solemn spectacle. In an illumination in Froissart we have the funeral of Richard II., where the body is placed upon a simple car attired in regal robes, a crown being on the head, and the arms crossed. We are informed that "the body of the effigies of Oliver Cromwell lay upon a bed of state covered with a large pall of black velvet, and that at the feet of the effigies stood his crest, according to the custom of ancient monuments." The chronicler might, perhaps, have said with more propriety "in accordance with tradition;" cause and effect, original and copy, being here reversed.

"In a magnificent manner (he proceeds) the effigies was carried to the east end of Westminster Abbey, and placed in a noble structure, which was raised on purpose to receive it. It remained some time exposed to public view, the corpse having been some days before interred in Henry VII.'s Chapel."

In the account of the funeral obsequies of General Monk, Duke of Albemarle, in 1670, the writer says:

"Wren has acquitted himself so well, that the hearse, now that the effigy has been placed upon it, and surrounded by the banners and bannerols, is a striking and conspicuous object in the old abbey. It is supported by four great pillars, and rises in the centre in the shape of a dome."

It is here also worthy of note, that Horncastle Church affords a curious example of the principle of a double representation—one in life, and the other in death; before alluded to in the Italian monuments, and in that of Aylmer de Valence. On a mural brass (1519), Sir Lionel Dymock kneels in the act of prayer; and on another plate covering the grave below, the body is delineated wrapt in a shroud—beyond all controversy dead.

Mr. Markland, in his useful work, mentions "the steel-clad sires, and mothers mild reposing on their marble tombs;" and borrows from another archÆologist an admirable description of the chapel of Edward the Confessor, who declares that "a more august spectacle can hardly be conceived, so many renowned sovereigns sleeping round the shrine of an older sovereign, the holiest of his line." It can only be the sleep of death, and this the sentiment conveyed: "These all died in faith." The subjects of this disquisition are not lounging in disrespectful supplication, nor wrapt in sleep enjoying pious dreams, nor stretched on a bed of mortal sickness: but the soul, having winged its way from sin and suffering, has left its tenement with the beams of hope yet lingering on the face, and the holy hands still refusing to relax their final effort. Impossible as this may seem to calculating minds, it is nevertheless one of the commonest of the authorised and customary modes designed to signify the faith, penitence, and peace attendant on a happy end.

C. T.

"ES TU SCOLARIS."

Allow me through your pages to ask some of your correspondents for information respecting an old and very curious book, which I picked up the other day. It is a thin unpaged octavo of twelve leaves, in black-letter type, without printer's name or date; but a pencil-note at the bottom of a quaint woodcut, representing a teacher and scholars, gives a date 1470! And in style of type, abbreviations, &c., it seems evidently of about the same age with another book which I bought at the same time, and which bears date as printed at "Padua, 1484."

The book about which I inquire bears the title Es tu Scolaris, and is a Latin-German or Dutch grammar, of a most curious and primitive character, proving very manifestly that when William Lilly gave to the world the old Powle's Grammar, it was not before such a work was needed. A few extracts from my book will give some idea of the erudition and etymological profundity of the "learned Theban" who compiled this guide to the Temple of Learning, which, if they do not instruct, will certainly amuse your readers. I should premise that the contractions and abbreviations in the printing of the book are so numerous and arbitrary, that it is extremely difficult to read, and that this style of printing condenses the subject-matter so much, that the twelve leaves would, in modern typography, extend to twenty or thirty. The book commences in the interrogatory style, in the words of its title, Es tu Scolaris?—"Sum." It then proceeds to ring the changes on this word "sum," what part of speech, what kind of verb, &c.; and setting it down as verbum anormalium, goes on to enumerate the anormalous verbs in this verse,—

Now begins the curious lore of the volume:

"Q. Unde derivatur sum?

A. Derivatur a greca dictione, hemi (e?); mutando h in s et e in u, et deponendo i, sic habes sum!"

I dare say this process of derivation will be new to your classical readers, but as we proceed, they will say, "Foregad this is more exquisite fooling still."

"Q. Unde derivatur volo?

A. Derivatur a beniamin (sic pro ????a?) grece; mutando ben in vo et iamin in lo, sic habes volo. Versus

Est volo formatum

A beniamin, bene vocatum.

Q. Unde derivatur fero?

A. Dicitur a phoos! grece; mutando pho in fe et os in ro, sic habes fero!

Q. Unde derivatur edo?

A. A phagin, grece; mutando pha in e et gin in do, sic habes edo!"

Here be news for etymologists, and proofs, moreover, that when some of the zealous antagonists of Martin Luther in the next century denounced "Heathen Greek" as a diabolical invention of his, there was little in the grammar knowledge of the day to contradict the accusation.

But we have not yet exhausted the wonders and virtues of the word sum; the grammar lesson goes on to ask,—

"Q. Quare sum non desinit in o nec in or?

A. Ad habendum, drnam^[2] [I cannot expand this contraction, though from the context it means a mark or token], dignitatis sue respectu aliorum verborum.

Q. Declara hoc, et quomodo?

A. Quia per sum intelligitur Trinitas, cum tres habeat litteras, scl. s. u. et m. Etiam illud verbum sum, quamvis de omnibus dici valeat, tamen de Deo et Trinitate proprie dicitur.

Q. Quare sum potius terminatur in m quam in n?

A. Quia proprie m rursus intelligitur Trinitas, cum illa littera m, tria habet puncta."

I shall feel much obliged for any particulars about this literary curiosity which you or any of your correspondents can give.

A. B. R.

Belmont.

ON A DIGEST OF CRITICAL READINGS IN SHAKSPEARE.

With reference to this subject, which has been so frequently discussed in your columns, daily experience convincing me still farther in the opinion that the complete performance of the task is impracticable, would you kindly allow me to ask what can be done in the now acknowledged case of frequent occurrence, where different copies of the folios and quartos vary in passages in the very same impression? What copies are to be taken as the groundworks of reference; and whose copy of the first folio is to be the standard one? Mr. Knight may give one reading as that of the edition of 1623, and Mr. Singer may offer another from the same work, while the author of the "critical digest" may give a third, and all of them correct in the mere fact that such readings are really those of the first edition. Thus, in respect to a passage in Measure for Measure,—

it has been stated in your columns that one copy of the second folio has this correct reading, whereas every copy I have met with reads fire; and so likewise the first and third folios. Then, again, in reference to this same line, Mr. Collier, in his Shakspeare, vol. ii. p. 48., says that the folio edition of 1685 also reads fire for sire; but in my copy of the fourth folio it is distinctly printed sire, and the comma before the word very properly omitted. It would be curious to ascertain whether any other copies of this folio read fire.

J. O. Halliwell.