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get it out of there, but I dasn't try it. Every minute it was
getting earlier now, and pretty soon some of them watchers would begin
to stir, and I might get catched--catched with six thousand dollars in my
hands that nobody hadn't hired me to take care of. I don't wish to be
mixed up in no such business as that, I says to myself.
When I got down stairs in the morning the parlor was shut up, and the
watchers was gone. There warn't nobody around but the family and the
widow Bartley and our t
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who followed him have but selected some particular plants, each according
to his fancy, to cultivate and beautify. If some things are too luxuriant
it is owing to the richness of the soil; and if others are not arrived to
perfection or maturity, it is only because they are overrun and oppressed
by those of a stronger nature.
It is to the strength of this amazing invention we are to attribute that
unequalled fire and rapture which is so forcible in Homer, that no man of
a true poetical spirit is master of himself while he reads him. What he
writes is of the most animated nature imaginable; every thing moves, every
thing lives, and is put in action. If a council be called, or a battle
fought, you are not coldly informed of what was said or done as from a
third person; the reader is hurried out of himself by the force of the
poet's imagination, and turns in one place to a hearer, in another to a
spectator. The course of his verses resembles that of the army he
describes,
Hoid' ar' isan hosei te puri chthon pasa nemoito.
"They pour along like a fire that sweeps the whole earth before it." It
is, however, remarkable, that his fancy, which is everywhere vigorous, is
not discovered immediately at the beginning of his poem in its fullest
splendour: it grows in the progress both upon himself and others, and
becomes on fire, like a chariot-wheel, by its own rapidity. Exact
disposition, just thought, correct elocution, polished numbers, may have
been found in a thousand; but this poetic fire, this "vivida vis animi,"
in a very few. Even in works where all those are imperfect or neglected,
this can overpower criticism, and make us admire even while we disapprove.
Nay, where this appears, though attended with absurdities, it brightens
all the rubbish about it, till we see nothing but its own splendour. This
fire is discerned in Virgil, but discerned as through a glass, reflected
from Homer, more shining than fierce, but everywhere equal and constant:
in Lucan and Statius i