, to encourage native dialects.[3]

[Footnote 1: Jerome, _Comment. in epist. ad Galatas_, ii. 3. His
assertion has, however, met with much scepticism in modern times, and it
must be admitted that he was not a very accurate writer.]

[Footnote 2: K. Holl, _Hermes_, xliii. 240-54; William M. Ramsay,
_Oesterr. Jahreshefte_, viii. (1905), 79-120, quoting, amongst other
things, a neo-phrygian text of A.D. 259; W.M. Calder, _Hellenic
Journal_, xxxi. 161.]

[Footnote 3: Mommsen (_Roem. Gesch._ v. 92) ascribes the final extinction
of Celtic in northern Gaul to the influence of the Church. But the
Church was not in itself averse to native dialects, and its insistence
on Latin in the west may well be due rather to the previous diffusion of
the language.]

In material culture the Romanization advanced no less quickly. One
uniform fashion spread from the Mediterranean throughout central and
western Europe, driving out native art and substituting a
conventionalized copy of Graeco-Roman or Italian art, which is
characterized alike by its technical finish and neatness, and by its
lack of originality and its dependence on imitation. The result was
inevitable. The whole external side of life was lived amidst Italian, or
(as we may perhaps call it) Roman-provincial, furniture and environment.
Take by way of example the development of the so-called 'Samian' ware.
The original manufacture of this (so far as we are here concerned) was
in Italy at Arezzo. Early in the first century Gaulish potters began to
copy and compete with it; before long the products of the Arretine kilns
had vanished even from the Italian market. Western Europe henceforward
was supplied with its 'best china' from provincial and mainly from
Gaulish sources. The character of the ware supplied is significant. It
was provincial, but it was in no sense unclassical. It drew many of its
details from other sources than Arezzo, but it drew them all from Greece
or Rome. Nothing either in the manner or in the matter of its decoration
recalled native Gaul. Throughout, it is imitative and conventional, and,
as often happens in a conventional art, items are freely jumbled
together which do not fit into any coherent story or sequence. At its
best, it is handsome enough: though its possibilities are limited by its
brutal monochrome, it is no discredit to the civilization to which it
belongs. But it reveals unmistakably the Roman character of that
civilization.

The uniformity o