THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY 370 ie6e no. 36-47 wass^*" Universityofni^^™ UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS BULLETIN Issued Weekly Vol. XXIII December, 14, 1925 No. 15 [Entered as second-class matter December 11, 1912, at the post office at Urbana, Illinois, under the Act of August 24, 1912. Acceptance for mailing at the special rate of postage provided for in section 1103, Act of October 3, 1917, authorized July 31, 1918.] EDUCATIONAL RESEARCH CIRCULAR NO. 39 BUREAU OF EDUCATIONAL RESEARCH COLLEGE OF EDUCATION APPRECIATION OF LATIN by Henry W. Prescott Roy C. Flickinger Laura B. Woodruff Irene G. Whaley and Others THE LI&RARY OF THf JAN 2 6 1926 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS PUBLISHED BY THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS URBANA Prefatory Note The material for this circular was prepared under the direction of Professor H. J. Barton of the University of Illinois. It is published by the Bureau of Educational Research in accord with its general policy of giving through its publications helpful information and sug- gestions to teachers and school administrators. It should, however, be understood that this circular does not represent the work of the Bureau of Educational Research and full credit for its preparation should be given to Professor Barton and the individual authors mentioned. Walter S. Monroe, Director. Bureau of Educational Research. October 5, 1925. fHE IIBHARY OF m JAN 2 6 1926 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/appreciationofla39pres TABLE OF CONTENTS Page 1. On Teaching the Aeneid as Literature 7 By Henry W. Prescott, University of Chicago 2. Some Ancient Remains at Rome 18 By Roy C. Flickinger, Northwestern University 3. The Springfield Virgil Exhibit 21 By Laura B. Woodruff, Oak Park High School 4. Books of Interest to Teachers of the Classics, Published 1922-24 24 By Irene Grafton Whaley, Oak Park High School 5. Miscellaneous 28 APPRECIATION OF LATIN ON TEACHING THE AENEID AS LITERATURE 1 Henry W. Prescott I do not intend to commit myself on the disputed question whether or not Latin in high schools is a cultural or an exclusively language study. A crowded curriculum, the pressure of college requirements, may well limit the aims of the teacher of Latin. It may well be, under present conditions, that teachers wisely confine themselves primarily to" the teaching of Latin as a foreign language, with an eye to such values as indubitably result from the learning of this ancient tongue. It is in no small measure, perhaps, true that our young Americans are too callow to appreciate the Aeneid as literature and to digest the cultural contribution of a poem that, as the national epic, inevitably illustrates valuable principles of literary art and presents ideas represent- ative of the civilization of ancient times, which through comparison and contrast may help to develop in American youth an intelligent and sym- pathetic attitude toward the problems of their modern life. My standpoint is simply this: if you do wish to teach the Aeneid as literature and if you do choose to regard the form and content of the poem as worthy of attention, and not merely the language in which it is writ- ten, what are the Roman ideas and the distinctive qualities of Vir- gil's art which you may safely undertake to communicate to your stu- dents, and how may they best be suggested? For I suspect, under the somewhat unfortunate conditions which have arisen during the last half century in this country, the conditions particularly of college instruction as well as of earlier training, that many a Latin teacher, if she is ever asked to lessen her emphasis on the subjunctive and the dative case, and to teach the poem to some extent as a work of art and an expression of the national thought and the national achievement, finds her store of pedagogical thunder completely stolen away from her and too often, in an endeavor to teach what she herself has not learned to know and appreciate, resorts to superficial impressionism which any keen young American is quick to recognize as mere twaddle and un- worthy of his serious attention. *A paper read at the Illinois State Teachers' Conference at Urbana in November, 1924. [7] The limitation of high-school reading to the first six books pre- vents any consideration of the poem as a whole, though if students could be' stimulated to read the last six books in such a respectable verse translation as that of T. C. Williams, it would be an easy matter to set the poem as a whole in its proper relation to the time ; . ; in which it was written. But even if the pabulum must be restricted to half the poem, this matter of the general setting of the poem in its social and political environment seems to me essential to any understanding of its real values. Even if students have no knowledge of Roman history, the analogies of post-bellum conditions in Europe today should be easily available to help them toward an appreciation of the circumstances under which the Aeneid was composed. A century of social demoraliza- tion preceded it. A long period of civil war had decimated the popula- tion of Italy. If you need to give the picture briefly and effectively, the sixth of' Horace's Roman odes will vividly depict to your students the total collapse of religious feeling, the neglect of established worship and ritual, the scandalous social conditions which disrupted the family life, and the devastating effects of long continued wars. Out of this chaos a sagacious statesman, Octavian, seeks to bring order by wisely conceived and executed measures aimed to secure the Roman empire against threatened downfall. The older generation is gone or feebly tottering. The young men and maidens must be revitalized. And the policy o & f Augustus rests on the fundamental idea that to regenerate the present vou must recall the young people to the ideals of the glorious past, you must revive the memory of the exemplary heroes of the Re- public and earlier, you must restore the institutions of Republican Rome, a policy interestingly illustrative of the conservatism that per- vades 'classical' antiquity. So he reorganizes ancient cults and religious brotherhoods, rebuilds temples, dignifies in every way the old estab- lished rites and deities, endeavors ultimately to reform social life by purifying it of its demoralizing features, restocks patrician and ple- beian families, and anticipates Roosevelt in rewarding fathers of large families and imposing pains and penalties upon recalcitrant bachelors. Octavian, like our modern statesmen, knew the value of publicity. The word propaganda is of Christian origin, but the first emperor of pagan Rome knew the value of pushing his ideas not only through his own utterances and his own legislative measures but through the pub- lished expressions of other people. There were no newspapers but there was a reading and listening public. And that public, at least the more [8] intelligent part of it, heard and read the works of the literary artists of the day. Taking a leaf perhaps from the book of the Ptolemies in Egypt, Octavian gathered about him these literary men of the day, im- pregnated them with his ideas, and the result is that Horace's Roman Odes, Livy's History, and Virgil's Aeneid illustrate the dominant thought in Octavian's policy and manifestly further the intention of this statesman to save the Roman world, if not for democracy, at least for a strongly reinvigorated empire. The spirit of this great movement is best expressed in the words of Livy's preface when he describes him- self as shrinking from the sight of the evils that surround him in his own day and seeking refuge in the splendid achievements of her glorious past. His reader, he says, shall learn to know the men and the means that won for Rome her world power, and how she has fallen upon the present evil times when we have not the strength to bear either our vices or the remedies that they require. It was this same spirit and motive that prompted Virgil to celebrate the earliest chapter of Roman achievement, and your students must be helped to see the critical emergency, to ap- preciate the earnest moral and patriotic purpose that lies back of this national epic. The poem conforms to the ancient notion that poetry should teach as well as delight. And even a reckless American young- ster, a carefree flapper, will respond to the moral and patriotic uplift of the poem if you will put him in sympathy with the conditions of the •environment out of which it came. But you need not leave the impression that the Aeneid is a moral and religious tract. It marks the highest stage of development in epic narrative attained in classical antiquity. Your students are immature and probably as yet untutored in the various ways and means of ob- taining desirable effects through artistic literary expression. But if Eng- lish literature is being properly taught in the high school, they should have some points of contact by which you may arouse appreciation of the poem as literature. I suspect that no English epic forms a part of the high-school curriculum, but plays and short stories at least are the stock of the English course that parallels the course in Latin. And the Aeneid is nothing but a story very conspicuously dramatized both in its smaller chapters and scenes, and as a whole. It is the first dramatic epic in classical literature and perhaps the only one. And the points of departure which the teacher of the Merchant of Venice is, or should be, using in the classroom in English literature are available for you. I cannot, of course, in a brief half-hour suggest concretely the [9] possibilities in the whole poem or in any considerable part of it, but may I sketchily indicate what might be communicated to your stu- dents, if the second book of the Aeneid were the material under dis- cussion? The simplest way of understanding Virgil's art is by putting one's self in his place and visualizing his difficulties and estimating his success in surmounting them. The story of the Fall of Troy is new to the high- school student unless he is reading Homeric Greek, and the second Aeneid does not coincide with the plot of the Iliad. But in Virgil's time this narrative was the oldest and tritest of all literary themes. For eight centuries or more the various chapters of it had been handled and retouched by sculptors, vase-painters, poets, and histori'ans. Yet Virgil must include it in his narrative, for a main purpose of his epic is to sanctify the religion of his own time which was falling into neglect, to dignify it by impressing upon his readers the venerable antiquity of their religious tradition. The gods of Rome are the gods of Troy, and the Roman reader must know how they came to travel from a remote corner of Asia Minor to Italy. In the second place, this well-worn theme through all the centuries since Homer had been treated almost exclu- sively by Greek artists. In the story of Troy's fall the Greeks were victors, the Trojans were the vanquished party. Such Greek artists in narrating the tale had used it naturally to exalt and exploit the achieve- ments of their Greek forbears. But Virgil is forced by circumstances to make the same story the first chapter in the biography of a Trojan whom his fellow Romans for over two centuries have officially recog- nized as the progenitor of the Roman people. Aeneas is the hero of the epic, but a canonized story of the fall of Troy from which not even a Roman poet may deviate in any essential particulars has stereotyped this hero as one of the vanquished Trojans in this age-old epic story. It is no easy matter, therefore, in presenting this chapter of a patriotic national epic to redeem these progenitors of the Romans from the ap- parent disgrace of being disastrously outwitted by the Greeks. And the difficulty is enhanced by the fact that the Roman readers themselves are conscious of their own later conquest of the western world and, as military heroes, will not relish the historical truth that their ancestors were beaten at Troy, their mother city demolished, and their lineal fore- father, Aeneas, forced to abandon his native city, a condition which is more abhorrent to the ancient Roman than the expatriation of an Amer- ican today to any of the countries of Europe. [10] The simple devices by which Virgil surmounts his difficulties and prevents his Roman audience from feeling that- Aeneas and the Trojans are unworthy to be ancestors of the Roman people, are two in number. Primarily he represents the fall of Troy as the work of Fate and of the Gods, not as an achievement of superior Greeks; and secondarily, he never loses an opportunity to defame the character of the Greeks — they are not brave and resourceful heroes, as Greek stories have made them out to be, they are rascals, sly, cunning fellows, unscrupulous, and sharply contrasted with the honest, straightforward Trojans. These two devices are employed through chapters of action and through inci- dental comment. The scene in which Hector's apparition appears strikes the keynote of divine intervention, of fate and God's will as de- termining the issue; the panorama of the gods lighting against Troy later settles the vacillation of Aeneas who earlier, as a human being, is disposed to resist divine sanctions and to do his best to save the day. Incidentally a real cause of the disaster is summarized in the paragraph in the poet's own words which concludes Sinon's speech: "Thus Sinon's guile and practised perjury our doubt dispelled. His stratagems and tears wrought victory where neither Tydeus' son nor mountain-bred Achilles could prevail, nor ten years' war nor fleets a thousand strong." And when the serpents that strangle Laocoon disappear into the shrine of Minerva, the Roman reader sees, what escaped the Trojans, that the gods are directing the action, and the Greeks are divine instruments rather than superior foes. Neatly, too, in the Creusa scene at the end of the book, Aeneas is driven by events to seek Troy once more and in this final visit finds it a heap of smoking ruins, which he may leave without disgracing his Roman readers and descendants and without seriously smirching the annals of Roman heroism. The high-school student is engaged in writing in his own language themes, essays, and what-not which are imposed upon him that he may learn the ways of effective expression, the organization of narra- tive and exposition, the development of consecutive thought from sen- tence to sentence, from paragraph to paragraph. He is also, if rightly taught, not unfamiliar with the simple principles of dramatic composi- tion, its rising and falling action, the dramatic climax, the uses of sus- pense, of retarding obstacles in the development of the plot structure. Such a student should be able to apperceive the corresponding things in the Aeneid. [11] The Aeneid as a whole, the individual books, most of them, and al- most all of the significant scenes within the individual books are con- structed on dramatic principles. This is Virgil's contribution to the de- velopment of epic poetry. Homeric epic and later narrative poetry usually run on the dead level. The two spies in the tenth Iliad start, continue, and finish their adventure in search of information and spoils without any obstacle to their success. Almost no chapter of action in Virgil advances without the intrusion of obstacles and retarding ef- fects, without rising and falling action, and the appropriate development toward a climax. The second book of the Aeneid as a whole does not illustrate dra- matic structure so well as some other books, but it is within limits a dramatic unit. The climax is not a genuine dramatic climax but a pathetic and picturesque climax, and it has a critical effect upon Aeneas. This climax is the death of Priam. If he were a sturdy hero, instead of a feeble and tottering old man, this climax would be dramatic. If it were a Hector, for example, then his death would be coincident with the fall of Troy, and the climax would be dramatic. But it is enough for our purposes to say that Priam's death marks an important turn in the action, to which preceding events progress and from which sub- sequent events issue, and at this stage the highest point in the action has been reached. Aeneas, warned by Hector's apparition, ought not to op- pose the Greeks, but as a human being and a hero, in spite of this rev- elation of divine will from such an authoritative source, he is rashly led to resist. The stratagem of Coroebus bids fair to succeed, but ends in a tragic failure. Aeneas presses on to the citadel, sees the last re- sistance of his countrymen, and witnessing Priam's death, is reminded of his own aged father and the necessity of saving him and carrying out Hector's injunction to save his country's gods. At this point, then, he gives up his opposition to divine decree, and, only momentarily stopped by the desire to punish Helen, reaches his home and, after the usual dramatic scene, starts off with his family and gods. But falling short of the absolutely dramatic as the second book may, it is fairly crammed with short scenes in which Virgil never fails to show his keen sense of the value of dramatic structure. The Laocoon scenes in their present arrangement are perhaps due to Virgil's own creative genius although the material itself is wholly Greek. The dis- covery of a huge wooden horse draws an eager crowd of Trojans out- side the walls to view it and to speculate as to the proper disposal of [12] it. This company falls at once into opposing groups. Just when the quarrel is at its highest point, Laocoon comes striding down and force- fully expresses his view against moving the horse into the city. No sooner has he turned the scales in that direction than Sinon appears as an opposing force to reverse the effect of Laocoon's advice, and the serpents emerge after the speech to clinch the effect and demonstrate that Laocoon is not a trustworthy guide. If you wish to see what Virgil has accomplished by this arrangement of these four little chapters of action, just change the order of the four chapters, and let the serpents strangle Laocoon before Sinon's speech, or, if you will, eliminate Sinon's speech, and then see for yourselves what is lost in power and dramatic force. Or let us look at the Coroebus scene: Androgeus mistakes Aeneas and his comrades for Greeks, and in the confusion pays the penalty for his error. This suggests to Coroebus, the ill-fated lover of Cassandra, a ruse de guerre. Why not put on the armor of the slaughtered Greeks and, thus disguised, work havoc among their foes? The trick bids fair to succeed but just when it is most successful, Ajax rushes past, dragging Cassandra by the hair; the boy-lover, desperate for his sweet- heart's sake, forgets his stratagem, rushes to her aid, betrays the mas- querade to the Greeks, and is slain. And the irony lies in the fact that now the Trojans, disguised in Greek armor, are mistaken for Greeks by their own countrymen. Obviously all of this is a tragedy in embryo, quite futile in effect but for that sudden emergence of Ajax and Cassan- dra at a dramatic moment. No less perfect is the closely woven suc- cession of incidents at Priam's palace. The women of the family tumul- tuously seek the altar as the Greek conqueror beats down the doors. Priam insists on donning his armor, feeble old man as he is. His women folk rebuke him and urge him to join them in the sanctity of the altar; at this moment Polites, closely followed by Neoptolemus, falls mortally wounded at his aged father's feet; the father loudly upbraids the cruel Greek; the Greek drags him to the altar and plunges his sword into him with taunting words — a half dozen effective short chapters, each leading into the next and issuing from the preceding, a perfect causal unity, and all so arranged to bring out to the* full the advantage of progres- sively rising action, as well as the pathetic force of the incidental detail. Again, in the final scene of the book, when prospective love-affairs with Dido and Lavinia make it necessary to remove Creusa from the future action of the poem, we may see the unerring skill of a dramatist rather than of an epic poet. Creusa had to disappear. Why should she not dis- [13] appear before Aeneas's eyes, deliver her prophecy on her way to Heaven, and save Aeneas the trip back to Troy in search of her? Ob- viously because we should lose all the elements of suspense gained by the chosen arrangement. She falls behind the wayfarers, her loss is discovered, the husband's devotion is manifested by his search for her, the reader's suspense is aroused by the uncertainty, and the return trip to Troy convinces the Roman audience that the city is hopelessly lost- all this is gained by the simple device of not letting Aeneas see his wife join the retinue of the mother of the gods. And finally, the master- piece of the book, the scene at the house of Anchises. It belongs on the stage, on the ancient stage, for there is a chorus of servants in the back- ground; in the foreground are Aeneas and Anchises, with Creusa and her infant intervening for a moment. Aeneas appears, calmly assuming that his father will immediately accompany him to a place of safety. But Anchises has valid objections. Aeneas in despair starts back to the city. Creusa interposes, reminding him of his obligations to wife and child. At the critical moment of decision comes the sign from Heaven and its interpretation favorable to Aeneas's request. If there were no obstacles, if Anchises immediately assented to Aeneas's proposal, how different and how weak the scene would be! As it stands, we must vis- ualize it in the setting of the theatre to get its full effect. Now many may object that the youthful American cares little about these elementary devices of narrative and dramatic art. In part I agree with such an objection, but I cannot escape the observation of my own eyes and ears that these young Americans are weekly attend- ing the movies, that many of them are spending leisure time in the reading of contemporary novels. It is reasonable to suppose that they may be lured into an appreciation of these ways and means in litera- ture of securing desirable effects, that they may profit by learning some of these simple devices, becoming more critically appreciative of the plays they see and the stories they read, and perhaps, if they are pros- pective artists themselves, getting some insight into the accepted methods of convincing and moving their audience. Another objection may well be that these matters of craftsmanship are by no means the highest manifestation of literary art. To this objection also I agree. But those higher manifestations are more elusive, less concrete and tangible. Poetic diction in Latin poetry is hardly appreciable by stu- dents of high-school age. Poetic imagery is often within the range of the student's comprehension, but does not fall within the possibility of easy [14] treatment in this discourse. Virgil's appeal to the emotions is every- where patent, •' in the pathos of the Coroebus scene, in the details of Hector's grewsome appearance, in the pitiful circumstances of Priam's death. But aside from a few things of this sort, most of the means by which a great poet moves his readers are incommunicable. It is these elusive things that lead many to say, rightly enough, that literature cannot be taught. But in these simple phases of structure, and also of character treatment, into which I must not go, the immature student may find something tangible. These matters are the grammar of liter- ary art, and American students seem to have a zest for grammar, and through learning the grammar, they may rise to an appreciative consid- eration of the less concrete features of style, the more elusive play of the poet's fancy and imagination. At the very worst, a knowledge of such matters by the teacher will save the classroom from the critical bromides: "This narrative is interesting," or "This description is pretty." I have left myself little time to comment on the second of my topics, the contribution in the second book to our appreciation of Roman cul- ture. This is a Greek rather than a Roman book. To be sure, it has Ro- man elements, particularly in the realm of religious thought and prac- tice. The auspicium is a national Roman institution, and the skill with which Virgil reproduces faithfully the detail of ritualistic procedure, so dear to the Roman, without deviating one jot from the kind of incident and action natural in the circumstances of the scene itself in the house of Anchises is one of the happiest illustrations of his literary skill, as well as of the sanctity of the religious procedure itself. The whole book is fundamentally an expression of the unbroken continuity of Roman religion, and the poet's great purpose is to increase the veneration of his contemporaries, their respect for the established religious order of the state; it was the continuity of their religious history that insured the permanence of their empire, as the Sibylline oracles had persuaded them, and they found here the ultimate background of their faith and of their religious observances. But rather than dwell upon these com- monplaces, I wish briefly to suggest how rich is the content of the scene in the house of Anchises for one who wishes to comprehend the most essential features of ancient civilization. The political unit in ancient history is the city state. The individual members of the family, the families bound together in larger units, the whole organized with com- mon privileges and duties into the greater corporation of the state, all [15] this constitutes a thoroughly welded social and political body quite different from our modern organization. The virtues, the moral obligations, which are the main springs of action in this scene and throughout the poem, though in many respects modern, are fully un- derstood only as the issue from the conception of the body politic which this scene at the house of Anchises dramatizes into actual and real sac- rifice of the individual to the interests of the family and of the state. Paramount in the action is the hero's devotion to his father as the head of the family, thoroughly Roman in the emphatic form in which this scene presents it. And both the patriotic and religious service of Aeneas in rescuing his gods and perpetuating his national religion in a new country is peculiar to the ancient conception of society in so far as such religious service is prompted by the individual's sacrifice of personal interests to the demands of the great corporation of which he is but an infinitesimal part. Of course Virgil's portrayal of a social concept is more or less accidental. The reader is impressed not by any theory of government that may underlie the scene but by the simple and natural compliance of the hero with duties and obligations that are pervasively human. As dutiful son, father, and husband, Aeneas is revealed for the first time and stirred the admiration of Dido and of the Roman reader. But nevertheless, if you are looking forward as you should to the dif- ficulty of the American student, bred to Christian chivalry, when he finds Aeneas abandoning Dido in the fourth book, this scene offers you your opportunity to make clear to such a student early in his reading the great differences between ancient and modern life. The individual is a cog in the machine. The state, the national religion, is uppermost. A sentimental adventure is only a distracting incident in the career of a member of such a compact social unit. Clearly, you are more competent than I to say how these mat- ters may and should be presented to your students. They need not consume very much time. My advice can only be negative. Never lec- ture to them. Seldom, if ever, present such facts before they have read and understood the Latin of the scene or book. Most of such material, I suspect, belongs in review work,, when they have grasped the unity of the book, the content of the scene. And finally, although some casual question or illuminating comment along such lines may always be avail- able to relieve the tedium of grammatical drill, in general endeavor to keep such matters distinct from the grammatical routine and help your student to feel that you are opening to him something better and finer [16] than gerund grinding. Yet I must hasten to add that there is no finer attainment than the sympathetic knowledge of the Latin tongue. May I repeat in closing that I am not insisting on these things, least of all maintaining that they are indubitably feasible in your classrooms. You have in the Aeneid the finest flower of Latin litera- ture, and an epitome of Latin civilization. You high-school teachers pick this flower so that we college teachers, if we ever try to make it attractive in college, are offering a blossom that has often faded and withered in the high-school classroom. I envy you your opportunity to present to American young people, when they are plastic, open- minded, receptive of ideas, the finest achievement of Latin literature and the most nearly complete expression of national ideals. [17] SOME ANCIENT REMAINS AT ROME Roy C. Flickinger Where ancient remains survive in such quantities and are to be found on every hand, it may seem invidious to select a few for comment. Yet there were two or three which for some reason made a special appeal to me. For one thing they have been less commonly reproduced in our textbooks and so are less well-known to most of us than are the more pretentious and more important monuments. Fig. 1. Ponte Fabricio The first of these is the Ponte Fabricio (Fig. 1), which was built in 62 B. C. and is the oldest bridge now in use at Rome. It has been a silent spectator of all Roman history from the time of Catiline and Cicero until to-day, a period of almost two thousand years. What scenes it has witnessed and what a story it could tell ! It extends from the left (east) bank of the Tiber to the island which lies in the middle of the river not far from the Theater of Marcellus (Isola Tiberina). One [18] thing which appealed to me about this bridge was the fact that its inscription was cut so clearly as to come out plainly in a kodak picture taken from the shore: L. FABRICIUS C. F. CUR. VIAR. FACIUNDUM COERAVIT "L. Fabricius, son of Caius, Commissioner of Roads, superintended the construction." In the background of the picture may be seen a modern building upon the island. A short distance down the stream appear the remains of an earlier bridge (Fig. 2), the Pons Aemilius, erected in 181 B.C. Since 1598, when two other arches were swept away in the great flood of that year, Fig. 2. Ponte Rotto this structure has been known as the Ponte Rotto (Latin ruptus). The island and part of the Ponte Fabricio also appear in the picture. Not far away, close to the modern Ponte Palatino from which this snap-shot was taken, is situated the mouth of the famous Cloaca Maxima, which was built by the ancients for the purpose of draining the low ground in and near the forum and still continues to operate. Still more interesting to me, however, was Vergil's monument (Fig. 3), partly because of its quaintness and oartly because it recalls [19] the name of Vergil. Of course, it is not "our" Virgil, though a contem- porary; but the association of ideas remains, just the same. This Vergil was a wealthy baker, whose full name was Marcus Vergilius Eurysaces. In commemoration of his busi- ness the most conspicuous deco- rative device upon the monu- ment is the grain-measure, laid in a vertical- row at the bottom and in horizontal rows above, and at the top is a frieze with scenes of grinding, baking, and so forth. Below is an inscrip- tion which gives his name in full, while his occupation and the fact that he held the posi- tion of redemptor (public pur- veyor of bread) are stated else- where. It is to be understood that all four sides are similar, but are in varying states of preservation. An arch of the Porta Maggiore, part of an ancient aqueduct which was transformed into a city gate by the Emperor Aurelian in the third century, appears in the Fig. 3. Vergil's Monument background. [20] THE SPRINGFIELD VIRGIL EXHIBIT Laura B. Woodruff At the High-School Conference held November, 1924, at the Uni- versity of Illinois, the teachers attending the Classics section were priv- ileged to see another of the unusual exhibits prepared by the Latin pupils of the Springfield High School under the direction of Miss Ethel Jean Luke. At the meeting of 1923, the model of a Roman house attracted the attention of every one. In 1924, two models suggested by the Aeneid were shown. One of these portrayed the entrance to the Underworld as described in the sixth book, the other pictured the boat race of the fifth book. For the model depicting the entrance to Orcus — vestibulum ante ipsum — a strong box of corrugated board, about twelve by twelve by eighteen inches, was used, the whole painted a dead black. The open end was a bit irregular to suggest jagged rocks, while very stiff drawing paper, cut to simulate stalactites, was pasted at the top, like an irreg- ular curtain. Inside, light weight paper, a bit crumpled, was pasted in such a way that the effect of rough stone walls was produced. This lining was black with weird blue shadows. In the rear end, a section was cut out, like a window, over which was pasted a very fascinating picture, suggesting the delights of the blissful groves. An electric light placed behind this picture added to the effect. Beginning at the left, little figures were arranged, passing around to the right and up to the front of the cavern. These figures represented Grief, two Cares lying on couches, pallid Disease, Old Age, Fear, Hun- ger tempting to crime, hideous Poverty, Death and his twin brother Sleep, Toil, hurtful Pleasures, death-dealing War, Furies in their iron cages, and Discord with snaky locks. All were made by drawing the characters first on heavy paper, then tinting them with water colors and cutting them out and mounting them as effectively as possible by pasting a heavy narrow support of drawing paper, like an easel, on the back of each. The figures varied in height from about five and a half inches for the standing, to two and a half, for the seated or crouching forms. Old Age leaned on a cane; Grief sat crouched over, near the front; Disease was garbed in red and carried a torch; Sleep and Death were standing side by side at the left rear; Evil Pleasure was represented [21] by a jovial chap, crowned with a vine garland and holding aloft an ornate wine cup; War was resplendent in red and black, with gilded shield and helmet; the cage of the Furies was formed by drawing bars, painting them a rusty iron color, cutting them out, curving them like a slit cylinder, and pasting them to the middle of the right side of the cavern; Toil was stooping, wielding a huge hammer; Discord, with snaky locks and clad in dark red and brown, was seated near the right front, holding in one hand the golden apple; Poverty stood in rags with hand outstretched for alms. The figures were so placed that the view of the Elysian fields was not too much covered. The boat race model was made by taking a good firm board of about fourteen by twenty inches and placing upon it at suitable points wads of cotton batting so as to form a support for the tissue paper that was to be stretched over it as water, and also for a sloping shore-line and hills in the rear. The curved effect of the short-line was secured by shaping tissue paper and pasting it lightly at the water's edge, then arranging it as realistically as possible over the cotton batting sub- stratum of sloping ground and hills, and pasting enough of the surplus well under the edge of the board to make a neat finish. The tissue paper used for the sea was treated with a water-color wash of proper cerulean tone, then it was crumpled up and partially smoothed out again. Dabs of white were placed on each little wave, and shadows of darker bluish gray were painted in after the boats had been put in position. The tissue paper which covered the shore and hills was made a suitable brownish grayish tone with water-color wash, applied before the paper was put in place. On top of the hills were the silvae coruscae, made of green tissue paper, pasted double with a tiny wire in the center to stick into the ground. A lot of these little trees added greatly to the model. The boats were made of drawing paper, cut double at the stern and bowed out a little. They were painted with oars, their captains were resplendent in purple and gold, their pilots were at their posts, and Gyas alone guided the Chimaera, after having thrown Menoetes overboard. Procul in pelago was the saxum spumantia contra litora. On the rock— a real one— old Menoetes sat to dry. The Centaur was shown with broken oars on one side. The boats were so placed as to represent Cloanthus coming in as victor, with Portunus, the Nereid train, and Panopea pushing the Scylla into its haven. These little sea deities were made of tissue paper with opalescent tints, diaphanous little scraps, yet effective. [22] Just at the water's edge stood a throng of spectators, tiny figures cut from heavy drawing paper and gay in their robes of every hue. Aeneas was in the center, holding in his hand the palmam pretium victori, at his feet a heap of ostro perfusae vestes, merely suggested by tiny shapes of painted tissue paper. Several iuvenci stood meekly by. The above description gives but a vague impression of the attrac- tiveness of the two models so skillfully wrought. No mere verbal account can possibly convey an adequate conception of the artistic coloring and realistic development of Virgil's pictures. [23] BOOKS OF INTEREST TO TEACHERS OF THE CLASSICS, PUBLISHED 1922-24 2 Irene Grafton Whaley TEXT BOOKS First Year: Jenner and Grant. A First Year of Latin. Chicago, Illinois: Sanborn and Company. Ullman and Henry. Elementary Latin. New York: The Macmillan Company. Scott. First Latin Lessons. Chicago, Illinois: Scott, Foresman and Company. Elementary Lessons in Latin. St. Louis, Missouri: C. V. Mosby and Sons. Edwards. Roman Tales Retold. Chicago, Illinois: Scott, Foresman and Company. Reed and Hawes. Julia (A Latin Reading Book). New York: The Macmillan Company. Second Year: Sanford and Scott. A Junior Latin Reader. Chicago, Illinois: Scott, Foresman and Company. Place. Second Year Latin. New York: American Book Company. Third Year: Sanford, Scott, and Beeson. A Third Latin Book. Chicago, Illinois: Scott, Foresman and Company. Gleason. A Term of Ovid. New York: American Book Company. Nutting. Ad Alpes (Sight). Berkeley, California: University of Cali- fornia. Fourth Year: Greenough, Kittredge, and Jenkins. Virgil's Aeneid. Boston: Ginn and Company. The Direct Method: Paine and Main waring. Primus Annus. 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, American Branch. 2 A list presented at the University of Chicago Conference of High-School Teach- ers May 7, 1924. [24] Paine, Main waring, and Ryle. Decern Fabulae. 35 West 32nd Street, NewYork: Oxford University Press, American Branch. Oxford Series: (partly in the original and partly in translation). Butler. The Catilinarian Conspiracy (from Sallust and Cicero). 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, Ameri- can Branch. Cookson. Cicero, the Advocate (Pro Milone and Pro Murena). 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, Ameri- can Branch. Freeman and Bailey. Virgil (Aeneid I-III). 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, American Branch. Alington. Virgil (Aeneid IV-VI). 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, American Branch. For Club Work: Nutting. Junior Latin Plays. Berkeley, California: University of California. Geyser. Orator Latinus. Boston: Allyn and Bacon. Weber. Phonetic Records. Lakewood, New Jersey: Students' Educa- tional Records. BOOKS OF REFERENCE SUITABLE FOR THE USE OF HIGH-SCHOOL PUPILS For Caesar Classes: Wells. With Caesar's Legions. Boston: Lothrop, Lee and Shepard Company. Mitchison. The Conquered. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Com- pany. McCartney. Warfare on Land and Sea. (Our Debt to Greece and Rome Series.) Boston: Marshall Jones Company. For Cicero Classes: Rolfe. Cicero and His Influence. (Our Debt to Greece and Rome Series.) Boston: Marshall Jones Company. Abbott. Roman Politics. (Our Debt to Greece and Rome Series.) Boston: Marshall Jones Company. Pym. Readings from the Literature of Ancient Rome. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company. For Virgil Classes: Hammerton. Wonders of the Past. New York: Putnam's Sons. Bailey. The Legacy of Rome. 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Ox- ford University Press, American Branch. [25] Boissier. The Country of Horace and Vergil. Chicago, Illinois: G. E. Stechert and Company. Pym. Readings from the Literature of Ancient Rome. New York: Har- court, Brace and Company. General Reference Books: Smith. Mathematics. (Our Debt to Greece and Rome Series.) Bos- ton: Marshall Jones Company. Matheson. The Growth of Rome. 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, American Branch. Allinson. Children of the Way. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company. Van Santvoord. Octavia. New York: Dutton and Company. Hamilton. Ancient Rome, The Lives of Great Men. 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, American Branch. BOOKS SUITABLE MAINLY FOR THE USE OF TEACHERS Frank. Vergil — A Biography. New York: Holt and Company. DeWitt. Vergil's Biographia Litteraria. 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, American Branch. Billson. Translation of the Aeneid into English Verse. 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, American Branch. Mackail. Virgil and His Meaning to the World of To-day. (Our Debt to Greece and Rome Series.) Boston: Marshall Jones Company. Showerman. Horace and His Influence. (Our Debt to Greece and Rome Series.) Boston: Marshall Jones Company. Harrington. Catullus. (Our Debt to Greece and Rome Series.) Bos- ton: Marshall Jones Company. Gummere. Seneca the Philosopher. (Our Debt to Greece and Rome Series.) Boston: Marshall Jones Company. Lucas. Language and Philology. (Our Debt to Greece and Rome Series.) Boston: Marshall Jones Company. Sikes. Roman Poetry. New York: Dutton and Company. Hadley. Rome and the World Today. New York: Putnam's Sons. Bailey. The Legacy of Rome. 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Ox- ford University Press, American Branch. Haight. Italy Old and New. New York: Dutton and Company. Sabin. Classical Associations of Places in Italy. 435 West 119th Street, New York. Rouse. Chanties in Greek and Latin. 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, American Branch. [26] Rogers and Harley. Roman Home Life and Religion. 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, American Branch. Frank. History of Rome. New York: Holt and Company. Rice Holmes. The Roman Republic. 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, American Branch. Sherman. Roman Law in the Modern World. New Haven, Connecti- cut: New Haven Law Book Company. McKnight. English Words and Their Backgrounds. New York: Ap- pleton and Company. Crabbe. English Synonyms Explained. New York: Dutton and Com- pany. Faries. Ancient. Rome in the English Novel. Philadelphia, Pennsyl- vania: University of Pennsylvania. Nutting. A Teachers' Course in Latin Composition. Boston: Allyn and Bacon. The Claim of Antiquity (Issued by the Councils of the Societies for the Promotion of Hellenic and Roman Studies and of the Classical Association). 35 West 32nd Street, New York: Oxford University Press, American Branch. Hadzsits and Harley. A Bibliographic Monograph on the Value of the Classics. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: University of Pennsyl- vania. Mackail. The Alliance of Latin and English Studies. London: Murray. Marsh. The Foundation of the Roman Empire. Austin, Texas: Uni- versity of Texas. BOOKS FOR THOSE INTERESTED IN GREEK Botsford. Hellenic Civilization. New York: Columbia University Press. Hyde. Greek Religion. Boston: Marshall Jones Company. Cooper. The Poetics of Aristotle. Boston: Marshall Jones Company. Lucas. Euripides and His Influence. Boston: Marshall Jones Company. Van Hook. Greek Life and Thought. New York: Columbia Univer- sity Press. Greene. The Achievement of Greece. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Har- vard University Press. Taylor. Greek Biology and Medicine. Boston: Marshall Jones Com- pany. [27] MISCELLANEOUS The following play was written by Josephine Arnold, a student of the University of Chicago High School. A PLAY: PERFIDIA DUMNORIGIS Dramatis Personae: Dumnorix Caesar Diviciacus Milites: Publius Lucius Marcus ACTA PRIMA Scaena Prima Publius et Lucius ', turn Marcus Lucius: Sclsne cur frumentum et pabulum ab Haeduis non veniant? Famem habeo et equi mei famem habent. Publius: Non scio sed si non venient multl equi morientur. Lucius: Marcus dlcit Dumnorigem causam esse cur frumentum et pabulum non veniant sed Liscus amicus Caesaris est et ipse est rex Haeduorum. Publius: Hoc non comprendo. Intrat Marcus Lucius: Sclsne ubi frumentum et pabulum ab Haeduis sint et quare non veniant? Marcus: Ita. Liscus cognovit et fabulam Caesari locutus est et Liscus quoque mihi dixit. Lucius: Nobis die, Marce. Marcus: Dumnorix, frater DiviciacI, rex esse vult itaque cum Diviciacus abest, Dumnorix, qui multam pecuniam habet, multam potestatem habet. Mult5s equites sub suo imperio semper habet. Complures annos portoria licitus est et nemo contra eum liceri ausus est propter suam potestatem. Cum domi turn apud finitimos potestatem habet. Propter hoc Dumnorix Haeduos pabulum et frumentum ad Caesarem non mittere patitur. Et nunc, cum Caesar de his rebus cognoverit quid putas ilium facturum? [28] Publius: Non scio sed Dumnorix punlrl debet. Marcus: Liscus quoque mihi dixit Caesarem Diviciacum vocare et hodie veniet et postquam eum vldit Dumnorigem vocabit et turn puto frumentum nobis futurum esse. Lucius: Maneamus dum Diviciacus a Caesare veniat. Turn omnia e Lisco audiemus. SCAENA SECUNDA Caesar et Diviciacus Caesar: Diviciacum expecto et quod amicus meus est Dumnorigem pun- Ire non possum. Intrat Diviciacus Diviciacus: Salve, Caesar. Caesar: Salve, Diviciace. Scls cur te vocaverim. Causa est frater tuus, Dumnorix. Divic: Scio, Caesar, et abs te peto ne fratrem meum neces. Frater meus non me amat sed eum amo. Cum adulescens esset eum auxiliabar et eum clarum feci. Nunc magnam potestatem habet, plus quam ego et me perdere conatur. Plus auctoritatis apud nos habet quod matrem nostram in matrimonium dedit et quoque sororem nostram in matrimonium dedit sed n5ll el gravior esse. Caesar: Bonus vir es et fratrem tuum ad me vocabo et cum eo loquar. I. Exit Diviciacus. SCAENA TERTIA Caesar et Dumnorix et Miles. Caesar: E Lisco audio te inimicum nobis esse et te causam esse cur frumentum et pabulum non veniant. Estne verum? Dumnorix: Verum est. Caesar\ SI vir hoc in te fecisset et tu virum cognovisses quid in hunc virum faceres? Dumn: Non scio quod Liscus dux Haeduorum est, non sum. Caesar: Si tu non es dux, cur hoc facere poteras? Du?nn: Non scio. Nunc, Caesar, me habes; me perde si vis. Caesar: Propter fratrem tuum, te condono. I. Exit Dumnorix Caesar: Miles. Intrat Miles Miles: Ita Imperator. Caesar: Dumnorix in custodiam pone ut sciam quae agat et quibuscum loquatur. Miles: Ita Imperator. Exit Miles [29] ACTA SECUNDA Scaena Prima Dumnorix et Lucius et Publius . Lucius: Ibi venit Dumnorix. Publius: Ita. Quid vis? Bumn: In Britanniam cum Caesare Ibitis? Lucius: Ita, duces sumus. Bumn: N5llte in Britanniam Ire. Publius: Cur? Bumn: Quod insuetl mare navigandl estis et milites vestrl timorem habebitis, et quoque quod religionibus impedieminl. Lucius: Tu es Dumnorix, vir qui causa fuisti cur pabulum et frumentum non receperimus et te non audimus. Bumn: Caesarem deserite et mecum venite. Publius: In copils Caesaris sumus et Caesarem amamus et in Britanniam cum eo Ibimus. Exit Bumnorix Scaena Secunda Caesar et Bud Milites Caesar: Dumnorix fugit. Quod perfidus est eum consequimini et equi- tatu eum circumvenite et eum interficite. Miles: Hoc faciemus, Imperator. Exeunt Milites Caesar: Quid dicet Diviciacus? Sed non est mea culpa. Dumnorix non est similis fratri suo. Diviciacus vir bonus est sed Dumnorix vir perfidus est. Numquam mihi bonum sed semper damnum fecit. Scaena Tertia Caesar et Miles Miles: Dumnorix sine mora circumvenimus et eum interfecimus, Im- perator. Exit Miles Caesar: Non mihi damnum iterum facere poterit. "Sic semper tyrannls." Finis A LATIN PICTURE GALLERY (A Game for Latin Clubs) Around the walls of the room place newspaper or magazine pictures or other devices suggesting Latin words with which the pupils are famil- iar. Number each picture. Give the pupils a list of the Latin words [30] illustrated and ask them to match the pictures and words, placing the number of the picture beside the word it suggests. Check results when the majority have finished. The following is a list of words (with the pictures and devices em- ployed to suggest them) used in a club composed of first-year pupils: patria nostra (a map of the U. S.) praemium (AA) Hberi (a picture of some children) verba (a list of words) castra (a picture of a camp) impedimenta (an advertisement of trunks and traveling bags) deus (Jupiter) agricola (a farmer) sum (a column of figures added up) annus (a calendar of any year) poni (a pony) captivus (a bird in a cage) copia (a mass of flowers) amid (a boy and a dog) silva (a scene in a forest) navigant (two boys in a sail boat) vidi (a tiny D) libri (a row of books) arma (pistols and guns) pugna (a wrestling match) quattuor (a picture of four boys) pedes (pairs of feet cut from pictures) cam (children's wagons) porta (a gate in a fence) [31] PEGASUS (Let your imagination ride Pegasus to solve this Latin cross-word puzzle) a ■T" 1 a 6 9 w 3 10 4 It ^m 13 14 15 ■ 16 17 16 19 20 21 22 23 ZA- 2?1 26 27 2& & ■ ■44 II 32 33 ■ 34 35 37 3d 39|40 41 42 43 45 46 47 43 49 50 1 |5I I 53 54 ■ ■ ■ 56 \i 7 ■ ■■ ■ 60 61 64" 62 I 1 65 ■ 06 [o 7 6S ■ m m gi 78 1 79 1 1 51 62 II