The massive rampart of the Greeks; they tore Had firmly planted to support the towers, And brought them to the ground; and thus they hoped -Iliad, 12: Idem. Even in Homer's references to natural scenery, we find every thing in constant motion. Notice these traits in his description of the fire kindled by Vulcan in order to save the Greeks from the flood. The ground was dried; the glimmering flood was staid. A newly watered garden, quickly dries The clammy mould, and makes the tiller glad, -Iliad, 21: Idem. So a snow-storm seems interesting to him mainly be cause it is doing something, and can be used as an illus tration of something else that is doing something; e. g., As when the flakes Of snow fall thick upon a winter-day, When Jove the Sovereign pours them down on men, Like arrows, from above;-he bids the wind Breathe not continually he pours them down, And covers every mountain-top and peak, -Iliad, 12: Idem. Notice also the account of the action of the water in this, how he portrays the struggle of Achilles with it, in such a way as to make the whole living and graphic. Here, too, the mental quality appears again. The water itself seems interesting to the narrator, mainly because of its connection with the actions of a man with whom he sympathizes. And then Achilles, mighty with the spear, From the steep bank leaped into the mid-stream, Around Achilles, beating on his shield, And made his feet to stagger, till he grasped A tall, fair-growing elm upon the bank. Down came the tree, and in its loosened roots Brought the earth with it; the fair stream was checked By the thick branches, and the prostrate trunk Bridged it from side to side. Achilles sprang Askance He fled; the waters with a mighty roar Followed him close. As when a husbandman Leads forth, from some dark spring of earth, a rill Its channel, spade in hand, the pebbles there A mighty billow of the Jove-born stream And drenched his shoulders. Then again he sprang To tremble, while it swept, where'er he trod, He looked To the broad heaven above him and complained. -Iliad, 21: Bryant's Trs. Look now at the way in which Homer describes the scenes by which some of his heroes pass in flight. How few comparatively are the objects that are noticed, yet how specifically do they indicate the typical features, which in such circumstances one would see and remember, and from which, in the rapid glance that he would have of every thing, he would derive all his impressions. They passed the Mount of View, And the wind-beaten fig-tree, and they ran Was skirted, till they came where from the ground And spreads a vapor like a smoke from fire; A current cold as hail, or snow, or ice. And there were broad stone basins, fairly wrought, At which in time of peace before the Greeks And their fair daughters washed their sumptuous robes. Meantime the Trojans fled across the plain -Iliad, 22: Idem. Toward the wild fig-tree growing near the tomb Of ancient Ilus, son of Dardanus,— Eager to reach the town; and still the son Of Atreus followed, shouting, and with hands Blood-stained and dust-begrimmed. And when they reached They halted, waiting for the rear, like beeves Chased panting by a lion who has come At midnight on them, and has put the herd * Thus did Atrides Agamemnon chase The Trojans; still he slew the hindmost; still The Father of immortals and of men Came down from the high heaven, and took his seat On many-fountained Ida. -Iliad, 11: Idem. Now contrast with these the following description. It is not a poor one of its kind; but all must perceive that a poem characterized by many passages like it, could not be in the highest degree interesting. Such descriptions, on account of their lack of the qualities noticed in those of Homer, tend to interrupt the plot and the interest felt in its characters. Besides this, of the many items mentioned here, few are described with sufficient specificness to make us feel that they were really perceived, and not merely fancied. It was broad moonlight, and obscure or lost The garden beauties lay; But the great boundary rose distinctly marked. No sloping uplands lifting to the sun Their vineyards with fresh verdure, and the shade Of ancient woods, courting the loiterer To win the easy ascent; stone mountains these, Desolate rock on rock, The burdens of the earth, Whose snowy summits met the morning beam When night was in the vale, whose feet were fixed In the world's foundations. Thalaba beheld |