The Southern field and fireside. (Augusta, Ga.) 1859-1864, April 30, 1864, Page 7, Image 7

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little to the credit of either Virgil or jEn«*a that the latter should have slept" while on the point of leaving the realm of Dido; and it map be added that a man with half » conscience could not have slept for a week! 1 * Soberly speaking, there are traits of character belonging to the Trojan hero whieh Virgil seems greatly to admire to the great injury of his reputation, so far as our judgment goes. These peculiar traits are: first, a sort of cowardice ; and, second, a low opinion of women. No one who has carefully retd the .Eneid ean deny that these blemishes exist in the great epio. When these blemishes are pointed oat, fault finding mast end ; for, though other and serious objections can be urged to the -Eneid, each as im itation, Ac., these faults had their origin in the customs of the time in which they were written, and not in a want of originality in the mind of Virgil-f Here is another good place for a moral izing episode; but we will not scare the ambitious but somewhat self-conoeited young Uterateur by away inserting one if he will allow us to say “just one word." Take the beet parts of the best ef forts of the best writers for your pattern in compo sition. Do not take up with the faults of an author because that author is ranked among the classics. Beware, also, of making “pets" of the books of certain authors; this frequently leads to involun tarp plagoirisms. Take the general rule of great writers as yonr gnide, without falling upon any particular one as a faultless pattern. Perhaps it was Virgil’s profound reverence for the genius of Homer that led him to draw largely from the Iliad and Odyssey in the composition of the ■iEneid. There is no doubt thtt Hilton unwitting ly stole from Homer, Virgil and Dante, aimply because he looked at their writings as pieces of perfection. The description of the games, more properly contests, which takes up a great portion of book fifth, is graphic and exciting. Nowhere in the bounds of literature can there be found an in stance so striking of the peculiar effect of minute painitaking in description. The latter portion of this book (sth) is powerfully imaginative as well as superlatively beautiful. Beginning at verse 835, the reader may enjoy a picture which is, of itself, sufficient to immortalize the man who could Conceive and execute it: “Jamque sere mediam cceli nox humid metain Contigerat; placida laxarant membra quiete Sub remls fusl per dira sedllls, nautm," 4c., In its construction the first sentence of the above quotation much resembles the following from tbe Bomninm Sfipionis: “Deinde snbter mediam sere reglonim sol obti net.”—Somn, Scip., cap. IV. Indeed there is something in the precise, pointed manner in which the Alneid is told that reminds us forcibly of the -imaginative portions of Cicero’s works. Os course, such a resem blance weuld bs hard to trace out; nor would it appear to one bat slightly acquainted with tbe Latin idiom, that it could possibly exist. Any one wishing to examine this subject further, will find “profitable pleasure!’ in comparing the Btyles of these great Remans. “In medio ram os annosaque braobia pandit Ulmns, opaca, ingens ; quam aedem Bomnia vulgo Vans tenere ferunt, foliisque sob omnibus hso rent.’’* I'ew students have noticed tbe peculiarly striking comparison—the happy imitation of "everyday nature ” contained in the above verses. Without directly pointing the reader to his peculiar and apt fignre, Virgil merely, draws his picture so aa to suggest the idea he intends to convey. Who that has noticed with any degree of interest tjfe habits of insecte, has discovered that moths or innumerable kinds, aa well as other sight flies, eling to the underside of the leaves of trees during the day-time. Now Virgil no doubt hid this fact in mind when he wrote: Foliisque sub omnibus hcercni.f “They cling beneath every leaf." Antkon's restoring. Interea videt ddae&s in valle redneta Seclusum nemos, el virgulta sonantia tihit, Lethseumque, domos plaeidas qui prenatal, am nem Hum circum hummers gentes, populique vola bant; Ac, velnti in pratis nbi apes Estate serena Floribus insidunt variis, et Candida circnm Lilia funduntur ; strepit omnia murtnure campns. The italicized clause, et virgulta conanha silvis, is not properly rendered by Anthon. Bat, • .Eneas celaa in puppi, jam certos eundi, Carpebat somnos, Ac.—Eneid, /V., 554-5. f The reader will find a fair estimate of the literary character of Virgil prefixed to Anthon’a edition of the .lineid. Much valuable informa tion may also be obtained from Wagner, (Qumst. Virg.) * (Vide Book VI, 84.) ' We have derived much pleasure, and not a little fund of useful informa tion by thus ferreting out the oftimes obscure suggestions of the ojd writers, especially the poets. We won’t be always advising—bur, young writer! verbum sat sapienti! t This is imaginative, leaving out the suggested comparison; but when we think coolly we must imagine those clinging dreams to have the form of hedeful moths. THE SOUTHERN FIELD AND FIRESIDE. perhaps, after all, it cannot be better translated. The verb sono, and the worths derived from it, are used by the best Latin writers, including Virgil himself, to convey the idea of sound, and, of course virgulta sonantia are “rustling bushes ;’’ there is no need for Wagner’s emendation, nor fer “observing" the zeugma in vxdet, for do zeugma exists. Supply audit. If Virgil had been writing in prose form this verb would have appeared in the sentence; but the poetical effect is height ened by its omission; for, had audit appeared, music would have bad to succumb to strength of expression, and really the sentence would have been but little stronger ; moreover, what would then be done with the LethEumque, demos plaeidas qui prmnatat, am nem, Ac. I We would like to know ? Non—Our readers will forgive the printer for the typographical errors in our preceding papers; for, though we do write s fair hand, we use most miserable Confederate paper. ENTRAPPING A MURDERER. In the year 1833, I went to the Bed River country, with a view of speculation in horses, lands or anything that might give proqaise of a profitable return for a cash inveatment. Os course, I carried a good deal of money with me, but knowing I was going among a wild, lawless class, of every grade and eolor —among half civilized Indians, negroes, gamblers, thieves robbers, murderers and assassins—with per hsps a few settlers of some claims to honor or honesty, if they could be sifted out from among the mass—l thought it the safest plan not to teem well off in the world’s goods. Accordingly I secured my money in a belt around my body, put on a very coarse, rough dress, which, by intentional carelessness, soon had a very mean, slovenly appearance, and allowed my hair and beard to manage matters their own way, with out auy troublesome interference of razor or comb. Thus prepared, and armed with two revolvers sud a Bowie knife, I passed over some dangerous territory in comparative safety, and flattered myself that no one guessed my riches through my apparent poverty. While passing between two settlements, over a very lonely, gloomy horse path, leading through a dark, hemlock wood, aud while in the most solitary part, there suddenly came before me, leaping from a thicket on the right a human fignre of a moat startling appearance. It was a man of medium height, but of a stout robust frame, all covered with dirty tatters, that he appeared to have worn and wallowed in for years. He had no covering for his head and his skin was so coated with grime, that it was difficult at a first look to tell whether he belonged to the white race or not. His face, high up on his cheeks, was covered with a dirty, brown beard, and his matted hair bung in wild profusion all around bis head, except a little spaoe before his swollen, blood-shot eyes and altogether he looked like a madman or a human devil. His hands held and swung a formidable club, and his attitude, as he leaped into the road before me, was one of fierce me nace and defiance. I stopped in alarm, and while fixing my eyes sharply upon his, quietly slid my hand into a convenient pocket and grasped tbe butt of one of my revolvers, firmly determined to keep him at the short distance that divided us or kill him, if he advanced. For perhaps half a minute we stood silently regarding and surveying each other, and, then resting one end of his club on the ground, and partly leaning forward on the other, ha said, in a coarse, gruff tone, with a kind of chuckling laugh. “Well, me I I’s in hopes I’d got a prize at last, but if you’re much better off nor me, you don’t show if, by ! Stranger, who are you, and whar you from ?" “Well," returned I, feeling highly compli mented, of course, that I resembled such a vil lainous looking object as himself) “some peo ple call me beggar, and I knew I don’t pass for a genteel gentleman." ‘Til swar to that—haw I haw ! haw ! " was his chuckling response. “The world haint made much of you, more’at it has of me. I see steal in your face as plain aa daylight. Say wbat jail or penitentiary lost you last “Nevermind that,’.’ said I, “probably neither of us have got our deserts.’’ “Well, if you had been decently dressed, looked like yon had five dollars about you, I would have knocked your brains out," pursued tbe villain with a broad grin- “As it is you can pass—for I can swar yon haintgot a rad.’’ \ “Mucb obliged for your candor, anyhow," rejoined I. He still stood before me, looking straight into my eye, and now seemed to be pondering some new idea. Presently he muttered as if to himself. “I think he might do.’’ Then a moment afterwards, he said to me, “I say old fellow, how'd you like to make a raise ?” “How would I like to cat when hungry ?’’ I answered, thinking it not unlikely that the scoundrel had gome darx project in view, which by seeming to chime in with him 1 might discover.” “Well, I've got a plan," he said throwing down his elub, as if to assure me of hi* pacific inteutioue towards myself, and quietly advan cing to my side, “I’ve got a plan that will give us both a heap of money, and it’ll take just two to cafry it out. I've been wanting a pal, and if you’ll join in I’ll go you halves.” “If there's any chance to turn a penny, I’m your man,” said I.” “Hood," returned he, “you look like a trump aud I’ll bet high on you. I don’t know he added, eyeing me sharply, “but I may be de ceived, but then I’ll risk it. If you go for to play any game on me, you’d better look out for yourself, that’s all." “Do I look like such a scamp as that,” re turned I in an indignant tone. “Well, let's take a seat and talk it over.’’ We found an old log, and eat down, aud after some preliminary conversation, my new and interesting acquaintance unfolded to me a most damnable scheme, the substance of which was as follows 1 He knew the country well for miles around, aud the exact position and condition of every settler. Oue man, living in rather a lonely quarter, about five miles distant, was a specu lator in horses aud cattle, which he sometimes bought up and drove to a distant market. He had a good deal of money, which it was sup posed he secreted in his dwelling, and te get pessessionof this money was, of conrse, the object in view. The trouble was that the man himself was a brave, determined follow, whe always went well armed, and also had besides his wife, two grown up sous aud a daughter) which was a force too great for auy one man to encooßter. About a aaile from him lived a poor widow, who had nothing worth stealing, except hor ciethos, whrch would be valuable for carrying out our plan. This plan was to rob tbe widow first of her clothing, dress me up in them, aud have me seek lodging at the speculator’s house. Then, in the night, when all tho family should be asleep, I was to unbolt the door, let in my confederate, and wp were to attempt the murder of the inmates—the robbery and burning of the house to follow and be the soncluding scene. I secretly shuddered at the atrocity of the contemplated crime, but appeared to receive the disclosure with the business air of the most hardened wretch, inquiring as to the amount of money we should thus probably ob tain, aud objecting to nothing but the great risk we should to run, both before and after tbe accomplishment of our purpose. I per mitted my eager companion to gradually quiet my fears, and at last consented to act. When everything had thus become settled we struck off into tbe fields, to avoid being seen and just before dark came in sight of the widow’s house. As my companion was ac quainted with the premises, I insisted that he should procure the female garments—but sol emnly warned him that if he harmed the poor woman in the leaet, I would have nothing fur ther to do with the affair. As good luck would have it, the widow was not at home, arid my murderous friend man aged to break in and get the necessary cloth ing without doing any further damage. The widow being a large woman, I had no trouble in arranging the dress so as to pass in a dim light as a tolerably respectable female; and then, having agreed upon the story I was to tell, how I would manage matters, and the sig nal that would assure my accomplice of ell be ing right, we went forward together, till we came in aight of the house to be robbed, when I made my nearest way to the road, and con tinued on alone, reaching the dwelling about an hour after dark, and just as the family were about concluding their evening meal. Had my designs been really what I bed led my villainous companion to believe, I certainly could never have gone forward with such con- fident boldness; bat feeling my conscience all right, and knowing I was acting from a good motive, I kept up a wonderful assuraace, feel ing curious to see how well I could play my part, and to what extent I could carry the de ception. I asked for lodging for the night, and some thing to eat, and was kindly and hospitably received. The first thing that set the blush of ebame and confusion to my cheeks was the coming forward of a young lady, about eigh teen, beautiful as an houri, and in a sweet, gentle tone, asking me if I had walked far, if I was much fatigued, and offering to take my hood, telling me I should soon be refreshed with a hot cup of tea. This was a little too much for my equanimity. I could have got along with all the rest, without being espeoially disturbed; but I was then a young, unmarried man, and, though not particularly susceptible to female attractions in general, I thought I had never looked upon so lovely and interesting a creature before. I stammered out some unin telligible replies, kept my hood well drawn over my face, and asked to be permitted to have a few minutes private conversation with the master of the house. Os course this request caused considerable surprise, but it was granted; and as soon as we were alone together, I told him in a few words who and what I was, the strange adventure I bad met with, and disclosed in full the plot of my road acquaintance to murder aad rob bim. He turned pale at the recital, and seemed much astonished, but begged me not to mention the design to bis wife and daughter. He then call ed his two sons—strong, determined fellows— recounted the plot to them, aid arranged to have everything go forward as if the scheme were being carried out os its vile author de signed. It took«some shrewd management to keep me to my part without letting the females into the secret; but it was effected; and before mid night, I cautiously opened the door and looked out. There was my man ready, and waiting. “Is all right," he whispered. "Yes, come in,’’ said I. As he crossed the threshold, the father and sons sprang upon him. But the fellow was strong and desperate, and, perhaps, had some ' slight suspicion of the truth. With a wild yell, he cleared their united grasps at a bound, le&viug a large portion es his rags in their hands. The next moment the whole four of us were in chase of the villaiu, as he ran across the road to gain the cover of a wood about twenty rods distant. “Fire!" shouted the father; "shoot down the scoundrel!" We were all armed and prepared, aad at the word four revolvers began to crack behind bim. But he seemed to lead a eharmed life, and still he ran on, keeping a short distance ahead of us. Once I fancied i saw him stag ger ; but he gained the woods and disappeared and we reluctantly and with deep chagrin gave up the chase. When we returned to the house, the wife and daughter were both there and terribly alarmed. Os course an explanation followed—the host being disappointed of making tha capture, as he intended, without exciting their feara There was ho more sleep m that house that night. The next morning we went out to the wood and discovered a trail of blood. We followed on for half a mile, and found the ruffian lyin dead, face downward, bis hands firmly clenched upon some bushes. One of the sons recognized him as a suspected murderer, who bad a couple of years before left that part of the country. He was buried with little ceremony. I was warmly thanked for the part T had played tc save the family; but from no other did the words sound so sweet to me at from the lips of th« beantiful maiden. The family pressed ms to stay with them.for a wbils, and I stayed—long enough to lose my heart and win another. Strange as it appears, in looking back to it, the event of that villain leaping into the road before me, changed my whole fortune! and sometimes, when I gaze fondly upon my wife, I am tempted to bless the dark and wicked design that providentially led me to so muoh happiness. Friendship is a silent gentleman that makes ao parade; the true heart dances ne hornpipe on the tongue. It is not the multitude of applause, but the good sense of the applnnden, which gjvee veins to reputation. 7