THE HESPERIAN STUDENT.
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skies of Italy and in nlr flllccl with poesy, is distinguish
cd for tho simplicity of his statements, for his sweetness
ami mellifluous harmony, nnil for the richness of his
scenery anil description. Ho leads one, charmed by his
sweet music, lovely figures and remarkable similes, to
brighter fields of truth and virtue, and leaves us to wan
der enchanted in the realms of the ideal. Ills similes
lack that sublime quality found in Homer, yet he pictures
life as wo really find It; not like the famous painter who
tries to paint nature more beautiful than it really is. An
unjust critic has attributed all this to Homer, regardless
of that marvellous brauty, which characterizes Virgil.
If his similes were taken from Homer, they have been res
arranged to produce different, and equal, if not superior
effects. He makes one sec and feel the charms of
"the sparkling stream of fresh water" the "cool shade
trees" and the cave with climbing vines o'er grown: the
bright tender uues of violets, poppies and hyacinth; the
luxuriant vegetation, clothing hill and dale, mountains
and meadows, and finally, blending all into one grand,
beautiful picture of harmonious loveliness.
"As when spring adorns the woods, renews. the leaves,
The parent earth the genial seed receives."
Again he makes one hear with strange delight the mur
murofthebces among the wild flowers, accompanied by
the moan of the turtle dove, the low strain of the shops
herd, and the gentle chant of the river, kissing the shores
with its soft waves: then he harmonizes all in a melody
which the tuneful Orpheus could but stop to hear. He
makes one sec them toiling from first light of day until
called home by the hollow murmur of evening bells,
laden with honey.
"As when the empty bark on billows float.
With sandy ballast the sailors turn the boat;
So bees bear dewy sweets, whose passing weight.
Steer through the wind their homeward flight."
He closes this canto by a simile which would stim
ulate the most slothful mind to fire of reaction. He pic
tures so vividly the uselessncss of the sluggard, not only
to himself but also to his companions, by comparing him
with the lazy drone, that one feels that,
Idleness is the enrse or God, mid
Diligence the wings wherewith we fly to heaven.
"All, wlh united force, combine to drive
Tho lazy drones from the laborious hive:
With envy sting thay view each othors deeds.
With diligence i lie fragrant work proceeds.
As when Cyciops, at tlfnl mighty nod,
New thunder hasten for their angry god,
Subdued in Arc tho stubborn metal lies;
One brawny smith the puffing bellows plies,
And draws and blows reciprocating air;
Others to quench tho hissing mass prepare
With lifted arms they order every blow.
And chime their sounding hammers in a row."
The greatest of Virgil's works is the Aeneid. This may
not be regarded as more perfect than the Eclogues and
3eorgies, yet it is a work of higher inspiration. He evN
dently intended to make the Aeneid, as it certainly is, his
crowning work. It was by this poem that he gained
that place in the minds of the people which he has never
lost. His name has been cherished by the poets, who
came after him, with veneration. Says Bede: "Virgil
casts ever me the same spell which he cast over Dante:
verses from the Aeneid breaks his narratives of martyr
dom, and the disciple ventures on the track of the great
master, in a little eclogue descriptive of the approach of
spring," a part of which has already been quoted. Dauto
gave himself up to the guidance of Virgil, and wo see him
even in Milton. "Burke," says Butler, "always had an old
ragged Virgil at his elbow." Tho Aeneid enables us to
loci in a way in which no other work of Latin can do.
All thoso elements which characterize Rome and the Im
perial State appear sottcned and mellowed by his mar.
vellous art and humane feeling. "The Aeneid," said an
able critic, "reflects the whole glory of Romo as from a
mirror." The dreadful fate of Laocoon in tlte rail of Troy,
for condemning the wooden horse, is one Virgil's grands
est similes. He makes the heart sick by the cries and
agony of Laocoon, whoso fhto tho gods decree for oppos
ing the entering of tlte Grecian horso into the tower.
He makes one see tho two serpents 3wecp along the swell
ing tide, their ardent eyes filled with bloody deeds, their
hissing jaws ready to suck ihc life blood of the two boys,
nnd'gnaw away their flesh with sharpened fangs: then
seize and kill Laocoon himself by fatal colls around his
waist and throat, while endeavoring to resuo his two sons.
"With both hands he labors at tho knots :
His holy fillets the blue venom blots,
His roaring fills the flittering air around,
As whon an 01 receives a glancing wound,
He breaks his bands, the fatal alter flics,
And with loud bellowing breaks the yielding skies.'
The statue itself con vcys little to one who has not read
these lines. But when once the narrative is known a
thousand thoughts come crowding into the mind.
Again, he has produced in tho fourth book ot the
Aeneid, that which only oue since his time has produced.
Dido, like the true and noble Ophelia, the very emblem
of purity, allowed her passion tor Aneas to kindle in her
heart and fetter her in chains of love. She dreamed only
of the celestial 'chords of happiness, accompanied by
evcrlastiug bliss. She dreamed only of uniting the Tro
jan with the Tyrian race in a lasliug league of peace
and prosperity: to unite with one who alone could soothe
and lieal her bleeding heart.
"Sick with dosirc, and seeking him she loves,
From street to street the raving Dido rovos.
So, whon watchful shophcrd, from the blind,
Wounds with a random shaft the careless hind,
Distracted with her pain she flies the woods.
Bounds o'er tho lawn, and seoks tho silent floods
With fruitless care: for still tho fatal dart
Sticks in her side, and rauklcs in her heart."
She pleaded wilh Aeneas, but his heart never felt the
pointed darts of love. She showed to him the Tyrian
wealth and her lovely city: and when her hopes seemed
bright as the noonday sun, all were eclipsed by deep
dark gloom which clings, like filings to the magnet,
around her heart. Her sister, who had always been her
constant companion and consoler, now failed to calm
her troubled mind. But when she learned that Aeneas
had deserted her entirely, she chose, like Ophelia, to end
the bitter cares of earth. Like Ophelia she shows tho
true character of womanhood by her sweet temper and
even by her last words
"Dear pledges of my love, while heav'n so plca&'d,
Receive a soul, of mortal anguish cas'd.
My fatal course is finished: and I go,
A glorious name, among the ghosts below."
The piercing steel did tho work. The spouting blood
came streaming from her heart. She raised her hands
towards heaven to ask forgiveness of her darling sister,
but fell fainting on the couch of the marble hearted one
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