The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1858-12-16

and feasting his eyer-greedy eyes upon these new
treasures. Mrs. Fleming had for some time
given up this her former favorite resort and but
seldom came into it. Probably there were painful
associations connected with it, or the dark pam
elling and sonnbre waving Arras had some subtle
depressing influence over her spirits At any rate
her present sitting room was an elegant boudoir,
ON the second floor, beautifully finished in a
rich and warm style of decoration, perfect lit
tie salon de Louis Qainze, in white and gold,
with touch of blue in the panelling and hang
ings, but very chaste and severe in taste, and
entirely purified of all the pruriency and rocco
which usually mars that otherwise very pleas
ant style of interior.
Au Resfe, she sometimes had her meals alone,
sometimes in company with Plato, and then, if
no visters were present, which occasionally hap
pened, our bookworm laboriously exerted him
self to entertain her. though even he suspected,
with but very meagre success. Still, he i'm
agined it to be his duty, and, like an honest
and faithful worker, persevered in it.
"Mrs. Fleming" said he, one morning, "when
am | to have the pleasure of entering with you
into the mighty Greek kingdoms, and instruct
ing you in the language Of Homer and Sopho-
cles "
Jasper's mother smiled family, as she re-
sponded:
lHiS morning, III you WILL
Exuberantly elated, Plato awaited her coming
in the library. As soon she was seated, he
began
"Shall we begin at once a6 initio with the de-
clensions, and a verbal paradigm, madam, as |
did with your son Jasper? or shall we take up
some simple textbook, and endeavor to analyze
from the start? The latter course would be
more satisfactory to you, l imagine, though the
other IS much the more thorough method of pro-
cedure."
Mrs. Fleming had WINGED at the mention of
"her son Jasper" in that room, but she answer
ed, carelessly:
ooh no, Mr.. Classic; do not care to be-
come so profound a Greek scholar as all that
amounts to. | am getting too old now, and am
not sufficiently industrious to undertake so ex-
tensive a task. The Medea of Euripides: can
you tell nae, does it resemble the Medea of Cor
nellie )? lfso, suppose We begin with that"
Plato stood aghast.
al have never read the Medea of Corneille,
Mrs. Fleming, but understand it to be imi-
tated from the tragedy of the same subject by
the pseudoSeneca, a wearisome pomp of dec
clamation,' and vastly inferior to the splendid
production of Euripides, where we have the stern
woman sacrificing love to pride in all her terri
BILE grandeur. There is, to be sure, somewhat too
much of the loquacious sophist in our author,
and occasionally an offensive petit maitre-ism in
the way he thrusts forward the philosophical
dicta he had picked up in the company of
Anaxagoras, for which Aristophanes most eff
fectually scores him, well as for his plagi-
arism, for instance in the laughable Rdnde,
where Eacus speaks of him as consorting in
Hades with cut-purses and thieves, and house
breakers, the most disputatious, and shrillest,
and most eel-like of sophists. Still he was
m no nd bo
has especially exceled in portraying the strug-
gle between pride wounded and the maternal
claims, in the frenzied yet naughty and sefre-
liant Medea"
"Let US read it, then, Mr. Classic. There
are copies of it here, believe"
" But madam, you are probably not aware
that the text of Euripides, as of any advanced
author, presents almost insuperable difficulties
to the inexperienced beginner, especially in the
variety of forms of the verb, and the many
ellipses required by the necessities of verse.
For instance, unless you were acquainted with
the various infections of the verb, how could
you ascertain that etupon and tetuphOs were
simply modal and temporal notifications of
the common radical tuptO?"
"Never mind that, Mr.. Classic" interrupted
Mrs. Fleming, we will take the verbs for
granted Suppose you begin and read me the
first act of Medea."
Mr.. Classic wondered enough at this novel
way Of learning language, but began to recte
ore rotundO the querulous sylables of the
nurses complaint about the ship Argo and the
blue Symplagades when he was again inter-
rupted:
g meant to have said translate, Mr. Classic"
said Mrs. Fleming, waving her hand with a
Slightly impatient gesture; and thus was our
chopfallen Plato transformed from the honored
instructor he had expected to be, into simple
means of amusement to melancholy woman
a converter of the iambic sophsms of Eurip-
ides ('' the most tragic of the poets" as Arts
totle. calls him. into the less elaborate prose
of his own extemporiety.
If Mrs. Fleming was satisfied, however, said
he to himself, by way of consolation, certainly
Plato Classic had no right to complain.