of Gray's Elegy into correct Greek, life would have nothing more to
give me. Mrs. A. was too well-behaved to encourage conversation in
my cousin's presence which disclosed my inferiority to him, but
without premeditation it sometimes turned where I could not follow.
As I have said, she had travelled in Greece. She understood
something of modern Greek, and she and my cousin one evening fell to
comparing it with ancient Greek. I sat sulky and dumb. At last she
turned to me, and asked me smilingly why I was so quiet. I replied
that I did not understand a word of what they were saying (which was
untrue), and that if they would talk about Stamps and Taxes I could
join. She divined in an instant what was the matter with me, and
diverted the discussion so that it might be within my reach. 'I
must confess,' she said, 'that my knowledge of philology is no
better than yours. Philology demands the labour of a life. I often
wonder what the teacher, student, and school history of England will
be at the end of another thousand years. Perhaps, however, in
another thousand years books will no longer be written except on
physics. Men will say, "What have we to do with the Wars of the
Roses?" and as to general literature, they will become weary of
tossing over and over again the same old ideas and endeavouring to
imagine new variations of passion. The literary man will cease from
the land. Something of this sort must come to pass, unless the
human race is to be smothered.' My cousin said he prayed that her
prophecy might come true, but I remained hard and stockish. Her
sweet temper, however, could not be disturbed, and she announced
that she was going to see Rachel, the great actress, and invited us
both to accompany her. I refused, on the ground that I knew nothing
of French (also untrue). She assured me that if I would read the
play beforehand I should be in no difficulty. I was really touched
by her kindness, but the devil in me would not let me yield. I