Herbert closed the book. “It must be deeply interesting,” said he, “to visit this ancient city. Its scenes are so intimately connected with events of history which are familiar to us from childhood, and so many of its features must remain unaltered. The ancient tombs are still there, the same old pavements are frequently unearthed which were trod by those heroes whose names are familiar to us as ‘household words,’ and whose stones have been swept by the royal purple. The Tiber will still pursue its winding course, and the lofty Apennines still bound the prospect, although time demolishes its mighty works of art.” “Was not Virgil born under the Roman government, Herbert?” said Charles. “He was, and highly favored by Augustus Caesar, the most powerful monarch of Rome.” “Do you think there were such delightful rural scenes in those times as he describes in his Pastorals?” said Susan. “In the earlier days of Rome,” said Herbert, “before luxury and its attendant vices had enervated and destroyed the energies of the country, the employments of the husbandman and shepherd formed the principal occupations of the people; to excel in agriculture was to acquire a title to public respect, and some of their most powerful dictators and bravest commanders were ‘taken from the plough.’ At the time to which our story refers, husbandry was regarded with less respect than in former times. The cultivation of the fields was often committed to the care of slaves; the introduction of foreign luxuries had paved the way for crime in all its forms, and from that time the progress of the nation was downward. The pleasant scenes of country life, described by Virgil, were probably drawn from nature, embellished, perhaps, with a poet’s license.” “But the beauty of these Arcadian scenes,” said Mrs. Wilson, “is associated in our minds with the idea of innocence and virtue; we believe they were happy, surrounded by these scenes of rural beauty, because they were good.” “True,” said Herbert, “let us but imagine their delightful groves, their breezy hills and green pastures to be the resorts of vice and crime, the charm is broken at once; we no longer dream of the beauty of the ‘spreading beech,’ the rich taste of the ‘golden apples,’ or the sweet murmuring of the ‘mossy fountains’; instead of the bright sunshine of peace and happiness, the gloomy clouds of sin and misery would disfigure every beauty.” “Such is the effect of virtue,” said his mother, “every charm is heightened by its presence, and every beauty destroyed by its absence.” “How pleasant,” said Susan, “to read Virgil’s description of a northern winter, over a bright fire!” “The pleasures of his winter evenings, however,” said Mary, “were confined to frolic and play, and their refreshments to ‘acid cider and beer’; how different from our evenings, where there are ‘fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness.’” “Yes,” said Elizabeth, “and, to continue your quotation:
“‘Discourse, not trivial, yet not dull;
Not such as, with a frown, forbids the play
Of fancy, or proscribes the sound of mirth.’”
Chapter X
The seeds of virtue should be sown;
God will protect their growth.
Circumstances intervened to prevent the continuation of the “Tale” for a short time but, on the evening of the Sabbath day, Herbert read a sacred poem upon the subject of Christ’s restoring the sight of the blind.
Land of a chosen race, the gift of God,
Whose soil the feet of holy patriarchs trod,