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mouth of the Prion he reckons 5 degrees, and thence to Sapphar, 3 degrees; while from 'Aden to the mouth of the Wadi Dóan there are 6 degrees and 10 minutes, and thence to Zafar, 3 degrees and 12 minutes. Ptolemy did consequently not know the precise distance between Arabia Emporium and Sapphar, nor that of the mouth of the Prion from either of those towns. But this is of little importance, his Prion lies between Arabia Emporium and Sapphar, and so does the Wadi Dóán; and whatever the difference between Ptolemy's distance and the real distance may be, the relative position of the mouth of the river in question, with regard to 'Aden and Záfar, is the same in Ptolemy's calculation as well as in reality. For the distance from Arabia Emporium to the mouth of the Prion is 5 degrees, being five-eighths of the distance from that town to Sapphar, which is 8 degrees, according to Ptolemy; and the distance from Sapphar to the Prion is 3 degrees, being three-eighths of the distance from Sapphar to Arabia Emporium. On the other hand, the real distance from 'Aden to Sähüt, or the mouth of the Wadi Dóan, is 6 degrees and 10 minutes, being a trifle more than five-eighths of the whole distance, which is 9 degrees and 22 minutes; and the real distance from Zafar to Sähüt is 3 degrees and 12 minutes, which is a trifle less than threeeighths of the real distance between Zafar and 'Aden. Indeed, another trifling difference arises out of the circumstance that the longitudinal distances ought to be measured on different parallels, those of Ptolemy being more southern than those on which the localities in question are really situated; but the reader must be aware that the question is not based upon astronomical computations, but only upon approximative distances, where the difference of twenty minutes, more or less, is of little importance. The great fact is, that the relative position of Ptolemy's Prion to Emporium Arabicum and Sapphar, corresponds with the relative position of the Wadi Dóán to 'Aden and Záfar, whence I am the more inclined to identify them, as there is no other river in the environs of Sähüt, which bears the slightest comparison with the Prion. There is one objection possible, which I think proper to anticipate and refute. Ptolemy speaks of a river, and mentions its mouth, while no water has ever been seen flowing out of the Wadi Missile into the sea. The fact is, the rivers in Arabia keep their mouths closed, and nothing is seen coming out, except in an unusually showery
season, when the water will wind its way through the burning tehamas (low lands), and discharge itself into the sea.
The presence of a watercourse of the length of the river Wadi Dóan in this part of Arabia was so little thought of by modern geographers, that Jomard says (1. c. p. 359), the Prion was one of the "quatre fleuves que Ptolémée accorde libéralement à l'Arabie méridionale," an assertion which is little consistent with his words quoted above.
The identity of the Prion with the Wadi Dóán leads to most important results.
Ptolemy mentions a considerable number of inland towns west and south-west of the Prion, which, if we could trust the Ptolemean maps, would lie in the most central parts of the great wilderness of El-Ahkaf. Such a conclusion, however, would be most erroneous. The magnitude, the fertility, and the commercial importance of that extraordinary valley are so many reasons for believing that Ptolemy knew perfectly well which towns the trader would find on his way from the Red Sea to the Prion, and which after having crossed this valley. We therefore cannot but presume that the towns which he placed west of the Prion were actually situated there, and not east of it. These towns consequently belonged to Hadhramaút Proper (west of the Wadi Dóán). East of the Prion Ptolemy knows but three inland towns, Juba, Marimatha, and Thabane, which were probably situated in as many oases in that part of the awful wilderness of El-Sheher which bordered on Hadhramaút. But not one town remains to be placed in the great desert of El-Ahkaf, and whatever may be the physical character of that tract, which is by no means void of inhabitants and settlements, Ptolemy knew no more towns there than we do.
The towns west of the Prion in Hadhramaút Proper appear to have been situated on the following seven roads from the Red Sea to the Prion and the more eastern provinces. From Pudni, now Jisán, Ptolemy proceeds on two roads to the upper part of the Prion, and thence into El-Sheher, viz.: 11, from (Pudni, Sabe), Magulava, Sylaeum, Mariama (Thumna), Vodona, across the Prion, to Marimatha in El-Sheher; 12, from (Pudni) Sabe, Menabis, by Thabba, &c. to Thabane in El-Sheher; 13, from Miba to Maepha (from Southern Yemen to Wadi Maifaat); 14, from Saraca to Sapphar (from Southern Yemen
to Záfar); 15, from Thuris to Sachla (from Southern Yemen to the mouth of Wadi Dóán); 16, from Saba Regia to Cua and Cane (same tract); 17, from Ocelis, by Deva, to Cua, coincides partly with the preceding road. About sixteen of the towns through which these roads passed were situated in Hadhramaút Proper. Thabba corresponds in name and position to Sava, visited by Baron von Wrede, and Maepha seems to be the name of the principal town in the Wadi Maifaat, where some of those Himyaritic inscriptions have been found which have so much attracted the attention of Europe.
THE ANTIGONE OF SOPHOCLES AND THE FOREIGN QUARTERLY REVIEW.
IN the Foreign Quarterly Review for April last appears an article entitled "The Antigone and its Critics," but which might have been more appropriately headed "The Antigone and its Critic," since it is pretty nearly made up of an attack upon myself, in relation to a review of M. Böckh's edition of the Antigone, which I had the honour of writing for the fourth number of the Classical Museum.
The intention of the first paragraph or two seems to be to let the world know that the reviewer has actually heard Tieck read a play at Dresden; an event which, by an application of Schiller's words, he calls having "been in Arcady." Precisely in like manner, the penny-showman at a country fair blows a flourish on his tin trumpet to attract the attention of the gaping rustics. I at once confess that the reviewer has here the advantage of me. I have never been in Arcady; nevertheless I will venture to assume so much of the Arcadian character as consists in being ready to reply. Let us then for the moment be
Et cantare pares, et respondere parati.
It may perhaps appear in the course of the discussion that our bungling showman, in exhibiting his tragic puppets, sometimes contrives to pull the wrong wire, and to present them to the view of the astonished spectators with the heels where the head should be.
In the æsthetic mode of viewing a play, the primary object is to determine the grundgedanke, or fundamental idea, on which it turns. That there must be some prevailing idea critics of all schools will acknowledge, though some, perhaps, may think the aesthetics rather shabby in allowing the poet only one. What, then, is the grundgedanke of the Antigone? Again, it is discussed by the reviewer whether Sophocles
adopted this fundamental idea consciously, or unconsciously; in other words, whether the light of the aesthetic doctrine had ever beamed on the mind of the Greek poet, or whether its rays were first collected, some half-century ago, in the prism of a metaphysician, shut up in his closet in Germany. On the present occasion, it is so far from my intention to dogmatise on either of these questions that I shall not even offer an opinion upon them, but content myself with collecting all the information I can from the reviewer. For this purpose I have been at the pains of putting his scattered hints into one point of view, and now beg to present the readers of the Classical Museum with the fruit of my researches; a present for which, I doubt not, they will feel duly grateful. Let us take the last question first.
On consulting, then, our Arcadian oracle, I found (p. 68) the following remarks:
These indications of the subject may be explained in two ways. First, that Sophocles was an unconscious artist, and then the frequency of these indications would arise from the subject being constantly uppermost in his mind, and therefore expressing itself in details no less than in the whole piece. Secondly, that he was a conscious artist, and worked critically. There is every reason to believe the latter.
Now this is satisfactory. The answer is precise. Sophocles was a conscious artist. Unfortunately, however, it is the nature of oracles to be obscure and contradictory, nor does this of Arcadia form an exception. On a previous consultation it had emitted the subjoined response:
He (M. Böckh) would make the fundamental idea a purely moral one: the dramatic exposition of an aphothegm (sic). Agreeing with him as to the aphothegm, we are nevertheless disposed to regard the drama as the exposition of character called into action by an ethical dilemma, and thereby suggesting the aphothegm rather than being founded upon it. In other words, admitting M. Böckh's view of the moral, we believe that it arises out of the natural development of the subject, not that Sophocles developed his subject in accordance with a preconceived moral. (P. 57.)
On comparing these two responses, I must confess that I was sorely puzzled. In the first we find that Sophocles was a conscious artist; that is, according to the aesthetic notion,