Leaves from my Scrap Book [pp. 314-316]

SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER.
yonder crag, there will be a woful outpouring of the holy
things of the Sanctuary."
* * * * * *
By the assistance of some rudely-constructed machinery, the heavily-laden basket was now lowered carefully down among the multitude-and, from the giddy
pinnacle, the Romans were seen crowding confusedly
around it-but, owing to the vast height and the prevalence of a fog, no distinct view of their operations could
be obtained.
A half-hour had already elapsed.
"We shall be too late"-sighlied the Pharisee, as, at
the expiration of this period, he looked over into the
abyss-" we shall be too late-we shall be turned out
of office by the Katholim."
" No more"-responded Abel-Shittim-" no more
shall we feast upon the fatt of the land-no longer shall
our beards be odorous with frankincense-our loins girded up with fine linen from the Temple."
"Raca!"-swore Ben-Levi-" Raca!-do they mean
to defraud us of the purchase-money?-or, Holy Moses
are they weighing the shekels of the tabernacle?"
"They have given the signal at least"-roared the Pharisee-" they have given the signal at last!-pull away!
Abel-Shittim!-and thou, Buzi-Ben-Levi! pull away!for verily the Philistines have either still hold upon the
basket, or the Lord hath softened their hearts to place
therein a beast of good weight!" And the Gizbarim
pulled away, while their burthen swung heavily upwards through the still increasing mist.
* * * *
"Booshoh he!"-as, at the conclusion of an hour,
some object at the extremity of the rope became indistinctly visible-" Booshoh he!"-was the exclamation
which burst from the lips of Ben-Levi.
"Booshoh he!-for shame!-it is a ram from the
thickets of Engedi, and as rugged as the valley of Jehosaphat!"
"It is a firstling of the flock," said Abel-Shlittim"1 know him by the bleating of his lips, and the innocent folding of his limbs. His eyes are more beautiful
than the jewels of the Pectoral-and his flesh is like the
honey of Hebron."
"I t is a fatted calf from the pastures of Bashan"said the Pharisee-" the Heathen have dealt wvonderfully with us-let usraise up our voices in a psalm-let
us give thanks on the shawm and oni the psaltery-on
the harp and on the huggab-on the cythern and on the
sackbut."
"It was not until the basket had arrived within a
few feet of the Gizbarim that a low grunt betrayed to
their perception a hog of no common size."
" Now El Emanu!"-slowly, and with upturned eyes
ejaculated the trio, as, letting go their hold, the emancipated porker tumbled headlong among the Philistines"El Emanu ] —God be with us! —it is the unutterable
flesh!"
"Let me no longer," said the Pharisee wrapping his
cloak around him and departing within the city-" let
me no longer be called Simeon, which signifieth' he
who listens'-but rather Boanerges,' the Son of Thunder.'"
Lucian calls unmeaning verbosity, anemonce verborum.
The anemone, with great brilliancy, has no fragrance.
LEAVES FROM MY SCRAP BOOK.
I.
"I think Homer, as a poet, inferior to Scott."
T. C. Grimck~-Pamphlet.
The gentleman whose words I have just used, maintained on all occasions the superiority of modern over
ancient literature. He prefers the better portions of
Milman's " Samor, Loid of the Bright City," to the
better portions of the Odyssey; and contends that
"Scott's description of the battle of Flodden Hill, the
midnight visit of William of Deloraine to Melrose Abbey, &c., are unequalled by anything in the Iliad or
,Eneid."
Now such comparisons are plainly unreasonable.
"To read Homer's poems, is to look upon a brightly
colored nosegay whose odor is departed," or, if not
departed, at least lost to our dull and ignorant sense.
The subtle odor of idiom and provincial peculiaritythe stronger odor of association are entirely lost to us.
I may better illustrate my idea. Every one will recollect the following couplet in the description of William
of Deloraine:
"A stark moss-trooping Scot was he,
As e'er couched border lance by knee."
Reversing the order of things, suppose these lines read
by a Greek of twenty-seven centuries ago; suppose him
even wvell acquainted with the English tongue-could
he appreciate their beauty? Let the Greek attempt
to translate the lines into his own language. He begins
with stark. The nice excellence of this word he knows
nothing of. He finds that its meaning is somewhere between stout and swift, and gives the Greek word "oXvs."
The first downward step has been taken. He next
pounces upon the term, moss-troopers. He translates
this "Aarr/ t7r.ror' avjpewLog." Couched, is an idiom which
he cannot translate; he gives us by way of equivalent,
",BaX)e." Border lance, is beyond his version. He
contents himself with a simple " ospv,"-for how is the
word Border to be translated? It is a word depending
on collateral matters for its meaning. These mattersinvolving the storied reyd and feud-must be known
before the word can be understood; and twenty centuries would blot out all remnembrance of the Percy and
Douglas feuds. The word Border is therefore, wholly
lost in the version.
The Greek version would read when completed
A7r719, KaXEoos09 OXv f7V iOTro' arpeptos
'Ov, ro 6spv piEtg aOeploIas, aleEt,,o etV aXXe,
which may be re-translated into
This Scot was a swift horse-riding robber,
And no one balanced spear by knee better,
-verses as little resembling the original as "an eyas
does a true hawk."
Translated into Latin, the original lines would read
Scotticts fuit eques, strenuus raptoque pollutus
Quo nullus hastam a genu tam apte librabat,
as great a failure as the Greek.
If Scott would suffer so much in the eyes of the
Greek and Latin reader, it is only fair to presume that
Homer and Virgil suffer as much in our eyes.
We perceive the merits of our modern poet; we are
blind to the merits of the ancient. We are consequently
incapable of judging between them. Mr. Grimck6's
comparison is unreasonable.
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