Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub
[blocks in formation]

5. The Gorgias of Plato, Chiefly according to Stallbaum's Text, with Notes. By T..D. Wool

sey. Boston, U. S.: Munroe and Co. 1842. 6. Herodotus, from the Text of Schweighouser, with English Notes. Edited by C. S. Wheeler, A. M., Tutor in Greek in Harvard University. Boston, U. S. Two vols. 1842.

ing to a discussion rather than a straight-forward explanation, finds in a line or two the information he requires; and it is better in the early stages of his studies that he should adopt even an

hypothesis as certain, than that he should be at

once thrown into the midst of critical contests,
which interrupt the connexion of the text. In
after life, if he makes a study of philology, he
borate disquisitions.
will find sufficient opportunities for following ela-

the comedies of Aristophanes with English notes,
Mr. Mitchell, when he published his editions of
was actuated by the obvious want of any edition
student; and however his accuracy may be call-
that could fairly be placed in the hands of a young
ed in question by some critics, the merit of in-
troducing a new and advantageous form of

Greek classics cannot be denied him. A similar desire to that which had for its result Mitchell's Aristophanes has evidently caused the produc

tion of the several American editions enumerated above. The like feeling prevails through the undertakings on both sides of the Atlantic. There is the same endeavor to free classical studies from that dryness which invariably repels volatile youth; the same purpose of rendering the authors attractive by familiar exposition of their allusions, and comparison with things known; the same attempt to place the student on a point of view from which he may best contemplate the works of antiquity, by emall the collateral information connected with bodying in a concise, easy, and unrepulsive form them. For the early student we should prefer Professor Felton's Clouds to that by Mr. Mitchell, for while the American has (professedly) availed himself of the labors of the Englishman, and, though with plenty of wit and originality of his own, has evidently taken him for his model in the familiarity and occasional drollery of his explanations, he shows infinitely more judgment in confining himself to what is actually wanted, and does not encumber his book with references unless very sparingly given, is peculiarly useless to other authors-a species of information which,

WHILE the Newspaper press of America is doing all in its power to give Europeans an unfavorable impression of the Republic, and to spread the belief that bad taste, vulgarity, and vile personal slander, are the greatest recommendations to favor with readers of the United States, it gives us no ordinary pleasure to welcome from that great country unquestionable evidences of a zeal for erudition, of an elevated tendency of mind, of admirable knowledge and acquirement, and of a desire to extend the familiarity of the truly good and beautiful. The series of books, whose titles appear above, is an index of a growing taste for classical attainments, and of a laudable desire on the part of those citizens of the United States whose profession it is to acquaint youth with the literary treasures of ancient Greece, to render those treasures as accessible as possible. Professors Felton and Woolsey, and Mr. Wheeler, deserve the warm-to the beginner.

est thanks of their fellow-citizens.

It must be distinctly understood that the object of these several editions is not to strike out new lights for the learned world, not to offer new views for the inspection of professed scholars, but to furnish students with readable editions of the Greek classics: editions that shall form a happy medium between the text without comment, which is so often unwisely put in the hands of the learner, and those ponderous annotations which can only serve to perplex him. Hence the notes are explanatory and illustrative rather than critical, and their conciseness cannot be too much praised. The student, instead of wading through masses of notes, and then com

*

It should be observed, however, that in editing Gorgias, Professor Woolsey, who had adopted Stallbaum's edition of 1828, was induced to make several changes in the text, and that he afterwards found the same changes had been made by Stallbaum in his edition of 1840. This shows that there is no absence of critical labor and acumen; qualities which in all the works of Professor Felton are indeed sufficiently apparent.

scription of the several editions. Though edited Our purpose is not to enter into a detailed deby different professors, their plan is pretty much the same. Their texts are those of the highest European scholars; they are all fully yet briefly illustrated by English notes; and all are preceded by such introductions as render them complete in themselves, and furnish the student with that amount of historical and other information which enables him to pursue his journey in a region not altogether strange. All are exceedingly well printed in a good clear type, and are volumes as well fitted for the library of a private gentleman as for the school-room or the university The Clarendon press could hardly send forth a better specimen of Greek than the Herodotus of Mr. Wheeler. Professor Felton's Homer is in some degree distinguished from the others, as it is a successful attempt to familiarize the student with the beautiful in plastic art, while he is becoming acquainted with the charms of antique poesy. The engravings after Flaxman are executed in a superior style, and we very much question whether, with all our pre-emi

nence above the Americans in the elegancies of THE PYRENEES.-A PIC-NIC AT COAR. life, we could produce a school-book that should by its beauty vie in any degree with the Homer of Professor Felton.

One little volume, which finds its way into the list at the head of this article, may perhaps be specially singled out, as it does not fall into the same class with the rest. This is Mr. Felton's Greek Reader, which is one of the best and completest school-books we have ever seen, containing in one short volume a course of reading, in prose and verse, from Esop and Anacreon to Thucydides and Aristophanes. Like the editions we have just described, it is illustrated by notes and historical explanations, and concludes with a lexicon of all the words, so that the student may use it with no other book but his grammar. It resembles the collection of Professor Dalzell, being at the same time more condensed in form. We recommend it to the consideration of our own school authorities, only counselling them to take advice with Professor Felton himself, and reprint it honestly, if they reprint it at all. From the prefaces to these works we may gather that classical learning is at present in its infancy in the United States. Mr. Woolsey declares that his notes to Alcestis would have been less copious" had the study of the tragic poets been more widely diffused and perused under better auspices" in his country; and Mr. Felton evidently introduces Aristophanes as a novelty to his fellow-citizens, while he congratulates them on the extension of a taste for ancient tragedy in consequence of Mr. Woolsey's Selections. But the infancy is a promising one; the Professors have produced, in a few years, works which, in their kind, may be weighed with any of those published in Europe without fear of a disadvantageous comparison; they are laboring with zeal and in harmony, generally setting forth the merits of each other; and from the signs of the times it is not impossible that America may one day, in despite of her atrocious newspapers, take a place among the learned countries of the world.

NEW POSTAGE TREATY BETWEEN ENGLAND AND FRANCE. The new postage treaty with France was concluded last week, according to Galignani's Messenger on Monday. The postage of letters not exceeding half-an-ounce in weight is to be the uniform charge of 10d., payable either in France or England. The treaty also regulates the correspondence between France and our colonies, and affords further facilities for the transmission of letters through France: It will no longer be necessary to prepay letters for certain parts of Germany, for Piedmont, Tuscany, or the Neapolitan States; and the French postage on letters for those countries, and on letters passing through France for British India, will be inuch reduced. The Morning Post expresses a belief that important treaties on the subject are in progress with other European Governments,

WOOD PAVING-The Railway Magazine says "Regent-street is the finest paved street in the world, now that it is cleansed by the machine. Keep wood paving clean, and there can be no slipperiness; and the more streets are paved with wood, the less slippery they will be, as no mud can rise to the surface, if a good concrete foundation be laid under it."

RAZE.

BY LOUISA STUART COSTELLO.

From the Dublin University Magazine. It would hardly seem that January was a time for pic-nics, nor is it often so in the south of France more than in England, that sweetest of all countries, most neglected and most unjustly censured for its climate, which is infinitely better than the seekers after novelty will allow. I do not know how a pic-nic in January would answer in general in England, but arranged under the circumstances of our expedition to Coarraze on the 25th, it could scarcely have failed.

Pau is one of the gayest places imaginable; scarcely one evening passes without a féte. English, Spaniards, and Americans have nearly pushed the French inhabitants from their stools, and those who remain are rather looked visitors amongst the intruders, who, like upon as cuckoos, have turned the original birds out of their nests. The French give very few parties, but the English are never quiet; one soirée creates another, and one new expedition suggests a newer. One bright sunny day in the afternoon, when the blue sky and soft air asserted that it was summer, and was only contradicted by the leafless trees and desolate aspect of the hills, which insisted on the season being that of winter, a gay party of "every body in Pau," met together in the high terrace of the Park of Castel Beziat, and were seen standing in groups, laughing and talking, and devising for the future. The mountains were at this moment so clear and so close, that it seemed almost possible to see the bears coursing each other through the ravines and across the plains of snow, extending from peak to peak, glittering in the golden sun, which reflected their sides of talc and ice like fabled heights of lookingglass or crystal. The near coteaux, though no longer covered with vines, by their sombre hue and cold brown color, brought out the back-ground of the transparent purple Pyrenees in fine relief. Every peak was sharply traced upon the blue sky, from the enormous pyramid of Bagnères, above the valley of the Adour, along the line, where a space opens towards St. Sauveur, and Vignemole's shadow gleams far off, where the jagged sides of Costerillou lead the eye on to Gabisos and the Pics of the Eaux Bonnes, and the great monarch of the Val D'Ossau raises his triple crown, diademed with snow, and the high chain

"To-day is ours-what do we fear?

of Aspe sinks gradually away from view. All this, though seen so often by the proTo-day is ours-we have it here." menaders in the park of Pau, has every Happy climate of Pau, where one hour day new attractions, so magnificent is the has no idea what the next will bring forth! prospect of these gorgeous mountains and The morning rose in smiles, and, though their murmuring attendant, the ever-cla- the mountains were hid in a veil of mist, moring Gave, which rushes impetuously the sunbeams were hovering above it, along its interrupted bed, and leaps, and watching an opportunity to induce them to winds, and chafes, and glitters, without come shining forth; half a hundred little pause or delay, spurning all control, and billets came showering about to ask, "Are making itself what course it pleases for its we to go?" Ought we to venture?" bright green waters through the sands and "Don't you think we can ?" "Surely we shingles which strive to choke its passage. need not hesitate," &c. &c., until at length Meantime the gay party increased every one "voice potential" gave the word, and moment in size till the whole walk was by twelve o'clock the monde was en route. filled with smiling faces, and the whole air "Lo que ha de ser, no puede faltar," rung with lively voices. A pic-nic, it was "That which is to be, cannot fail," contended, would be very possible; and to lose the opportunity of the fine day was a was engraved above the old gateway of the positive misdemeanor. What so easy and tower of Coarraze, and so it was with us; for fate had destined that we should go what so pleasant as to order all the carand should succeed. riages, and let the gentlemen all mount their horses, and to-morrow morning set out for Coarraze? The castle where Henri Quatre studied, under the eye of his gov erness Susanne de Bourbon, Baronne de Missons, or under that of the pretty jardiniére, who taught the ready prince the lore never since forgotten, de conter Fleu

rette.

Some sage voices were faintly heard, whispering of colds and draughts, and damp grounds, and snowy mountains, but the laughter and approval drowned the sounds, and it was all agreed on without opposition, and an hour fixed- Patés, and champagne, and Bayonne hams, and all that the pastry-cooks of Pau could furnish, were soon ordered, and the sun went down in crimson and gold, promising fair and kindly. All were to meet again at several parties in the evening, and arrange the spot of meeting and starting for the following day: but when the hour came for the revels of the night to begin, behold! torrents of rain had deluged the streets, and the uncertain elimate had shown its tyranny.

Every one, however, was too busy to lament; the music was so pleasant, the dancing so agreeable, the petits-jeux so entertaining. "Let the storm rage on," no one heeded it, no one had inclination to think of to-morrow; nevertheless, in the pauses of amusement a voice seemed to sigh for Coarraze, which was echoed here and there: there had been little romances imagined, little tête-a-têtes projected, which, as a young Irish friend observed, are meetings "almost alone;" "and it is so much better not to put off things," said a pretty philosopher, shaking her ambrosial curls:

In summer time the drive from Pau to the tower and chateau is charming: the from top to bottom. At the village of pretty hills are festooned with rich vines Bizanos you pass a height crowned with magnificent pines, which forms a feature in the landscape from Pau, and relieves the monotony of the continuous foliage else where. Here was formerly a place of meeting during the last days of carnival, where games of all kinds went on, and where all was gayety and hilarity amongst the people. La salade des Broutons was there eaten and enjoyed, and the obsequis of mardi-gras were celebrated amidst the popular patois cho

rus:

"Si t'en bas jou que demouri, Adiü praube Carnabal!" But all that is national or peculiar is dy ing fast away in France; and in this distant nook of Navarre, their old customs are discontinued. Bizanos is now only a village of washerwomen, and its pleasant castle a country-house-to let. From the ground is a glorious view into the mountains; and the town of Pau, across the Gave, stands proudly out on its hills, though its chateau of Henri IV. is concealed by a mound; the extensive building of the college, which, near, has no attraction, is by distance turned into a commanding fabric, having all the effect of a citadel, and thus looks as fine as the castle and donjon which predominates on the side opposite Gelos and Jurançon.

The plain beyond is called La Limagne, of Béarn, and is not unlike that chosen spot of Auvergne so vaunted for fruitful. ness and cultivation abound; corn and

wine, and pasturage and gardens are there; and all is glowing with richness and quiet beauty. But our drive on the 25th of January only indicated these things, and told us how lovely the scenery would be by and-by. En attendant the fine season, we were content with the goods the gods provided for the day, and hailed every gleam which showed us the sky brighter and brighter as we journeyed on. Less than two hours brought us to the desired spot, and there we found cavaliers and amazones, all busy already exploring every nook and corner of the place.

The whole of the ancient castle is destroyed, except one tower which remains entire, and to climb up the narrow stair of this is the great object; for, from the platform at the top, the view is wonderfully fine. You seem as if on one side the purple mountains, with their snowy sides, could be reached with the hand; and, on the other, the whole wide smiling country is spread out in a panorama. There is something awful and mysterious in looking down the dim gorges between the everlasting hills, and roaming in imagination into the deep valleys below, so well known to the adventurous Henri, and his young band of mountaineers, whose home was wherever the izard or the bear could leap or prowl. Many may have been, and as useless as many, "the lengthened sage advices" of the prudent Susanne de Bourbon to her charge, that he should be careful and not dare too much; but Henry had early impressed on his heart, as he afterwards did on his coins, the motto,

"Invia virtuti nulla via est,"

and went laughing forth, hoping each new adventure would be more dangerous and exciting than the last.

While some stood wrapt in wonder, leaning over the parapet of the donjon, and watching the mountains, which seemed as if making signals to each other, as the skudding mists now veiled and now revealed them, and took strange forms, as if spirits were hurrying to and fro, on messages to their brethren in the caverns and on the peaks; others of the pic-nic party set out for the village, and paused to sketch the antique door-way of the church, where two priest-like angels, holding scrolls, guard the entrance and support the empty niche sur mounted by a coronet, where Notre Dame once smiled upon the pious pilgrim, and welcomed him to her shrine before he continued his journey to say his orisons before her sister of Betharram.

Whatever might have been the Spartan simplicity in which Henri, then called Prince de Viane, was brought up, and however much we all admired the plan of his education, we were not able to profit by the opportunity we had of resting in a castle, where so excellent an example of frugality was given; for our provisions were too ample and too good to be resisted, and while we lauded the dry bread and insipid cheese with which the young hero was nourished, we mortified ourselves with very different fare.

A blazing fire, round which we closed our merry circle, seated in capacious armchairs and on luxurious sofas, cast a ruddy glow over the large saloon where we were assembled; and though we now and then, particularly the most poetical amongst us, cast a glance towards the blue and snowy range, whose heads seemed peering into the long windows to watch our proceedings, we could not but enjoy the genial heat sent forth by the crackling logs, and fancy ourselves just such a party as might once have assembled around the hearth of the old castle, on whose site the present is built, and, like us, here they might have laughed and joked, and conversed and sung the hours away.

Here La Marguerite des Marguerites, the lovely and learned sister of Francis I., has, with her charming court, no doubt rested after a hunting day in the woods, and related stories and sung songs as we were doing: just so, might have arrived on a sudden the wily mother of kings, Catherine de Medici, with her grande or petite bande of beauties, whose accomplishments might have been called forth on such an occasion for some special purpose, such as was always working in the mind of the crafty Italian. On such a day might the weak Anthony of Bourbon have been beguiled by a fatal fair one with bright eyes, whose lute woke echoes in that hall, while Catherine looked on, and saw the fires of St. Bartholomew kindling in the distant future, and her enemies' feet slipping into the snare. Here and there might the innocent and too sensible Catherine of Navarre have listened to the soft words and tender gallantries of him who was never destined to make her happiness, the designing and handsome Comte de Sois sons, for whose sake she refused her hand to so many princes, and pined away in solitary regret, the victim of state policy. Here the heroic Jeanne looked with maternal delight and pride on the gambols of her young mountaineer, who recounted to her all his adventurous wanderings since her

last visit. Here, in after years, his beautiful Marguerite, from whom his usually tender heart stood back, laughed, danced, and conversed, and fascinated every hearer but her husband, in whose ears the midnight knell always sounded in her voice; and here, for less enchanting smiles, the volatile prince exerted the wit and gayety that won all hearts his way.

Here, a century before, the great hero of Béarn, the magnificent Gaston Phœbus, perhaps sat by the hearth, conversing with the Lord of Coarraze, and hearing his wondrous story of the spirit Orton, who, in the very walls, visited him every night, and woke him from slumber to relate news from foreign lands, whence he had come,

"Swifter than arrow from a Tartar's bow."

And it might be, as the two knights gazed on the sparkling flames that roared up the huge chimney, that it was then the wily prince recommended his credulous friend to entreat the spirit to appear in a tangible form, and be no longer content with a mere voice. Perhaps from these windows the Lord of Coarraze looked into his court and beheld the spirit in the form of a huge swine of strange appearance, and from hence he might have cheered on his dogs to destroy the intruder, who, looking mournfully up in his face, vanished in a cloud, leaving him the conviction that he had seen his faithful messenger only to lose him and his information for ever: how and why, perhaps, the bribes of Gaston Phoebus could answer, who from that time obtained the spirit's assistance.

Our conversation grew more and more animated as the shades drew in; and many were the anecdotes told of travels in the Pyrenees, first by one clever raconteur, then another. How a joyous party were stopped by stress of weather in the valley of Bedous, and forced to take up their quarters for the night in a suspicious-looking inn; five ladies sharing the same room with no protector but a faithful dog, separated from their gentlemen, who had left with them a whistle to use in case of danger. How the agitation of the dog induced one of them to look in the direction he was pointing, by which means she discovered, through an opening, a room beneath them, where, seated round a table in silence, she descried the forms of fourteen Spaniards, each with a large knife in his hand-their gestures and mysterious movements, and finally their extinction of the dim candle which had lighted their conclave. The consequent terrors and uncertainty of the fair captives,

their fears of using their whistle, lest their friends should pay too dearly for it, and after a sleepless night, their discovery in the morning that their silent neighbors, silent for fear of disturbing the ladies, all left the inn noiselessly in order to be in good time at the fair hard by.

Then came stories of spending the night in old castles, and hearing strange sounds which were never accounted for; not that, of course, any one is ever so weak as to credit the idle stories of places being haunted

and yet, most respectable persons have sworn they saw something. There was one of our guests who told with great gravity of having seen the ghosts of Sully and Henri Quatre, walking arm in arm on the terrace of the castle of Pau, and of having clearly beheld a line of mail-clad figures issuing out of the great reservoir where tradition says Jeanne d'Albert drowned her Catholic subjects who refused to conform to the new religion.

The story of the unfortunate knight of Aragon, whose fatal sentence was engraved over the castle portal, occupied much attention, and the tale, new to some, was related. An early lord of Coarraze had a dear friend in Aragon, who was to him as a brother. They had not met for some time, when, one stormy night, the horn was blown at the gate, aud his friend was announced much to his delight. But the pleasure he felt was soon clouded when he found that he owed his welcome visit to misfortune.

The knight of Aragon had fallen under royal displeasure, and was obliged to fly his country. He had dared to love a princess, and his affection was returned; but since at all times true love is doomed to sorrow, nothing but danger and difficulty surrounded the lovers, and it had only been at last by flight that he was able to save his life.

Sad was the time that the friends passed together in the castle of Coarraze, talking of the past and the future; but the conclusion of all their discourses was a fresh springing hope in the bosom of the knight of Aragon, that fate would be yet propi tious to him, and his lady love be his own. The friends were once out hunting in the wild mountains of Ossau, and had been successful in their chase, having killed more than one bear; they were returning, bending beneath the weight of one of the finest of these animals, when they reached, late in the evening, a deep gorge, at the entrance of which they were surprised to see a group of females in white, seated on the ground, apparently in conversation. They paused to observe them, and as they did so, they

« VorigeDoorgaan »