THE LATE RICHARD COBDEN.

The two colored regiments enlisted, equipped, and sent forth by Massachusetts have returned home and been mustered out. Officers and privates are now dispersed. The last music has died away. Of these two famous regiments, which made such a mark on the times, nothing now remains but the memory. This cannot die; for it belongs to the history of a race. But all who went have not returned. The youthful hero, so gentle and true, who was selected by the Governor to command the Fifty-Fourth Regiment, fell at the head of his men on the very parapets of the Rebel enemy, and was buried in the sand with his humble companions in arms,—thus in death, as in life, sharing their fortunes. Family, parents, wife, were left to mourn. As was said of “Bonnie George Campbell,” in the beautiful Scotch ballad,—

“Hame cam’ his gude horse,But never cam’ he.”

“Hame cam’ his gude horse,

But never cam’ he.”

Few who were in Boston at the time can forget that pleasant day in May, when this colored regiment, withColonel Shaw riding proudly at its head, passed by the State-House, where it had been equipped and inspired. Cheers and the waving of handkerchiefs greeted it. There were tears also. It was a joyous and a sad sight to see this new legion, acquired to the national service, promptly marching to its distant and perilous duty, under a commander who, turning away from the blandishments of life, consecrates himself to his country. Nor was another consecration forgotten. It was to the redemption of a race. Massachusetts had sent forth many brave regiments; but here was the first regiment of colored soldiers marshalled at the North. It was an experiment, destined to be an epoch. By the success of this regiment a whole race was elevated. As he went forth, it became less an incident of war than an act of magnanimity and moral grandeur. Sidney, who refused the cup of cold water, was one of our young hero’s predecessors.

Not long after came tidings of the bloody assault on Fort Wagner, when, by an advance without parallel over an open beach, exposed to a storm of shot and shell, these new-made soldiers of a despised color, sleepless, dinnerless, supperless, vindicated their title as bravest of the brave. They had done what no other troops had done during the war. This was their Bunker Hill, and Shaw was their martyred Warren. Though defeated, they were yet victorious. The regiment was driven back; but the cause was advanced. The country learned to know colored troops, and they learned to know themselves. From that day of conflict nobody doubted their capacity or courage as soldiers. There was sorrow in Massachusetts as we were told how many had fallen, and that the beloved officer sorecently admired in our streets was sleeping in an unknown grave; but even this sorrow did not blind an intelligent people to the magnitude of the event. Grief was chastened by honest pride. Swelling hearts were soothed by the thought that much had been done for humanity.

A desire arose at once for a monument to commemorate alike the hero and the event. But the Rebellion was then raging. It was no time for monuments. At last, with the overthrow of the Rebel arms, the time seems to have arrived. The youthful commander still sleeps with his comrades in death. There let him sleep. Westminster Abbey has no resting-place more honorable. But his patriotic sacrifice and the great event deserve commemoration, as well for gratitude as for example. Some propose a monument on the spot where he fell. This may be made; but it can be only a mound or pile of stones, to be seen by ships as they enter the harbor of Charleston. This is not enough. It will not tell the whole story.

The monument should be in Massachusetts, where the hero was born, and where the regiment was also born. Each belonged to Massachusetts,—the martyr by double title: first, as he drew his breath here, and, secondly, as he commanded this regiment of Massachusetts. Let the monument be here. Of course, no common stone or shaft will be sufficient. It must be of bronze. It must be an equestrian statue. And there is a place for it. Let it stand on one of the stone terraces of the steps ascending from Beacon Street to the State-House. It was in the State-House that the regiment was equipped and inspired. It was from the State-House that the devoted commander rode to death. Letfuture generations, as long as bronze shall endure, look upon him there riding always, and be taught by his example to succor the oppressed and to surrender life for duty. Especially let legislators of Massachusetts, by daily sight of the symbolic statue, be gratefully led to constant support of the cause for which he died. Here is a theme for Art, and its elements are youth, beauty, self-sacrifice, death, and a great cause.

On the Continent of Europe, by general usage, only members of a royal family are allowed the honor of an equestrian statue. In the unequalled monument by Rauch, at Berlin, the royal Fritz is mounted, but his generals are about him standing. Near by is Blücher, who was prince and marshal, also standing. In England there are equestrian statues of kings, and of the Duke of Wellington. But this is no reason why a grateful people should not decree an equestrian statue to a youthful hero, whose duty was on horseback, and who was last seen in our streets on horseback. As an American citizen he belonged to our sovereignty, and we fitly celebrate him with the highest honors. Few belonging to any royal family have so good a title. In the Republics of Italy, during the early ages, when royalty did not exist, there were equestrian statues. The first of these in merit, and one of the first in time, was the renowned statue in bronze of thecondottiereBartolommeo Coleoni, who, after a lapse of centuries, is still admired as he rides bravely in a public square of Venice, while the artist has secured the immortality of his own name by engraving it upon the girth of the saddle. It is sometimes said, on doubtful authority, that this early chieftain was the first to mount cannon on wheels, so that they could be used in the field. Butour chieftain did more than mount cannon, and the triumphant experiment with which his name is linked surpasses far anything in the life of an Italian trooper. His act was above any triumph of battle. It was a victory of ideas, and belongs to the sacred history of Humanity.

Let the monument be made. Boston has a sculptor without a superior among living artists, whose soul and genius would be in the work. Already a colored person, well known among us, with a heart full of gratitude, has subscribed five hundred dollars. Other colored persons are contributing in smaller sums, according to their means. They properly lead now in tribute to him who died in leading them. But others of ampler means must see that this generous effort does not fail. I should not suggest this, if I thought that I should take away from other things deserving aid. The present charity is so peculiar, that it appeals equally to all who are moved by patriotism, by gratitude, by sympathy, or by Art.

This article was followed by a public meeting in the Council Chamber of the State-House, at the invitation of Governor Andrew, to consider the proposition of an equestrian statue in honor of Colonel Shaw. The following committee was appointed to collect subscriptions and superintend the erection of the statue: John A. Andrew, Charles Sumner, Joshua B. Smith, Charles R. Codman, Samuel G. Howe, Robert B. Storer, Frederick W. Lincoln, Jr., James L. Little, William W. Clapp, Jr., Charles Beck, Rev. Leonard A. Grimes, Peleg W. Chandler, William G. Weld, Edward Atkinson, Charles W. Slack, Robert E. Apthorp, Henry Lee, Jr., Edward W. Kinsley, George B. Loring, LeBaron Russell, Henry I. Bowditch.At a meeting of this committee, Charles Sumner, Samuel G. Howe, Charles Beck, George B. Loring, LeBaron Russell, Henry I. Bowditch, and Charles R. Codman were appointed a sub-committee to select an artist, to contract with him, to secure a proper place for the statue, and to superintend its erection.

At a meeting of this committee, Charles Sumner, Samuel G. Howe, Charles Beck, George B. Loring, LeBaron Russell, Henry I. Bowditch, and Charles R. Codman were appointed a sub-committee to select an artist, to contract with him, to secure a proper place for the statue, and to superintend its erection.

Letter to Mrs. Cobden, covering Resolutions of the Republican State Convention of Massachusetts, October 5, 1865.

The letter of Mr. Sumner first appeared in the London papers.

Boston, October 5, 1865.MY DEAR MADAM,—I have been charged by the State Convention of the Republicans of Massachusetts, over which I had the honor of presiding, to communicate to you resolutions unanimously adopted by them, expressing their grateful regard for the memory of your late husband, and their sympathy in your bereavement.[256]Knowing Mr. Cobden personally, as I did for many years, and corresponding with him on public questions, I confess a sense of personal loss beyond even that of my fellow-citizens. He was the good friend of my country, and he was my own private friend. Therefore, in making this communication, I desire to express my own individual grief.His lamented death has caused a chasm not only in his own home and country, but here in the United States. We all miss him and mourn him. He was a wise and good man. An Englishman by birth, his heart and all his faculties were given to mankind, knowingwell that the welfare and true glory of his own great country were best assured by such a dedication.Hoping that you may be consoled in your sorrow, and that your children may be blessed in life, I ask you to accept the respect with which I have the honor to be, dear Madam,Your very faithful servant,Charles Sumner.

Boston, October 5, 1865.

MY DEAR MADAM,—I have been charged by the State Convention of the Republicans of Massachusetts, over which I had the honor of presiding, to communicate to you resolutions unanimously adopted by them, expressing their grateful regard for the memory of your late husband, and their sympathy in your bereavement.[256]

Knowing Mr. Cobden personally, as I did for many years, and corresponding with him on public questions, I confess a sense of personal loss beyond even that of my fellow-citizens. He was the good friend of my country, and he was my own private friend. Therefore, in making this communication, I desire to express my own individual grief.

His lamented death has caused a chasm not only in his own home and country, but here in the United States. We all miss him and mourn him. He was a wise and good man. An Englishman by birth, his heart and all his faculties were given to mankind, knowingwell that the welfare and true glory of his own great country were best assured by such a dedication.

Hoping that you may be consoled in your sorrow, and that your children may be blessed in life, I ask you to accept the respect with which I have the honor to be, dear Madam,

Your very faithful servant,

Charles Sumner.

The following reply was received from Mrs. Cobden.Dunford, Midhurst, December 27, 1865.My dear Mr. Sumner,—On behalf of myself and my children, I beg most kindly to thank you, and the members of the Republican State Convention of Massachusetts, for the resolutions, passed by them, of sympathy with us in our terrible bereavement.These resolutions are rendered more valuable by the letter from yourself which accompanies them.The expressions of sympathy and condolence which have reached us from public bodies and private individuals, in your and other countries, have been deeply grateful to my stricken heart; for they assure me of the wide-spread appreciation of the efforts of my beloved husband to promote the cause of international prosperity and peace.From America they are especially grateful; for his sympathy with the cause of liberty to the slave was undoubted and intense. And it was on his way to Parliament, to speak on the Canadian question in its relation to the American Union, that he contracted the illness which ended his dear and noble life.Pray accept the kindest remembrances of myself and children, and believe me to remain,My dear Mr. Sumner,Yours very sincerely,C. A. Cobden.

The following reply was received from Mrs. Cobden.

Dunford, Midhurst, December 27, 1865.My dear Mr. Sumner,—On behalf of myself and my children, I beg most kindly to thank you, and the members of the Republican State Convention of Massachusetts, for the resolutions, passed by them, of sympathy with us in our terrible bereavement.These resolutions are rendered more valuable by the letter from yourself which accompanies them.The expressions of sympathy and condolence which have reached us from public bodies and private individuals, in your and other countries, have been deeply grateful to my stricken heart; for they assure me of the wide-spread appreciation of the efforts of my beloved husband to promote the cause of international prosperity and peace.From America they are especially grateful; for his sympathy with the cause of liberty to the slave was undoubted and intense. And it was on his way to Parliament, to speak on the Canadian question in its relation to the American Union, that he contracted the illness which ended his dear and noble life.Pray accept the kindest remembrances of myself and children, and believe me to remain,My dear Mr. Sumner,Yours very sincerely,C. A. Cobden.

Dunford, Midhurst, December 27, 1865.

My dear Mr. Sumner,—On behalf of myself and my children, I beg most kindly to thank you, and the members of the Republican State Convention of Massachusetts, for the resolutions, passed by them, of sympathy with us in our terrible bereavement.

These resolutions are rendered more valuable by the letter from yourself which accompanies them.

The expressions of sympathy and condolence which have reached us from public bodies and private individuals, in your and other countries, have been deeply grateful to my stricken heart; for they assure me of the wide-spread appreciation of the efforts of my beloved husband to promote the cause of international prosperity and peace.

From America they are especially grateful; for his sympathy with the cause of liberty to the slave was undoubted and intense. And it was on his way to Parliament, to speak on the Canadian question in its relation to the American Union, that he contracted the illness which ended his dear and noble life.

Pray accept the kindest remembrances of myself and children, and believe me to remain,

My dear Mr. Sumner,

Yours very sincerely,

C. A. Cobden.

Letter To the New York Independent, October 29, 1865.

Boston, October 29, 1865.DEAR MR. EDITOR,—I rejoice that “The Independent” has planted itself firmly on the sure ground of Equal Rights. It is natural that a journal which has from the beginning so bravely and constantly opposed Slavery in all its pretensions should now insist that these pretensions shall be trampled out, so that nothing shall be left to breed future trouble. This can be done only through the establishment of Equal Rights.To my mind, there never was a duty plainer or more instinctive. It is plain as the Moral Law, and it is instinctive as self-defence. If the country fails to do this justice now, it will commit a crime where guilt and meanness strive for mastery. On this head it is enough to say that it is a debt we owe to saviours and benefactors. But here all the instincts of self-defence harmonize with justice.For the sake of the whole country, which suffers from weakness in any part,—for the sake of the States lately distracted by war, which above all things need security and repose,—for the sake of agriculture, whichis neglected there,—for the sake of commerce, which has fled,—for the sake of the national creditor, whose generous trust is exposed to repudiation,—and, finally, for the sake of reconciliation, which can be complete only when justice prevails, we must insist upon Equal Rights as the condition of the new order of things. So long as this question remains unsettled, there can be no true peace. Therefore I would say to the merchant, who wishes to open trade with this region,—to the capitalist, who would send his money there,—to the emigrant, who seeks to find a home there,—begin by assuring justice to all men. This is the one essential condition of prosperity, of credit, and of tranquillity. Without this, mercantile houses, banks, and emigration societies, having anything to do with this region, must all fail, or at least suffer in business and resources.To Congress we must look as guardian, under the Constitution, of the national safety. I do not doubt its full power over the whole subject; nor do I doubt its duty to see that every pretended government organized by recent Rebels is treated as a present nullity. President Johnson then spoke well, when in Tennessee he said that “in the work of reorganization Rebels must take back seats, leaving place to those who have been truly loyal.” There is the key-note of a just policy, which I trust Congress will adopt.It is difficult to measure the mischief already accumulating from the policy that has been pursued. Looking at the positive loss to business and the productive industry of the country, it is painful. Looking at the distress it has caused among loyal people by the revival of the Rebel spirit, it is heart-rending.Looking at it in any way, it is a terrible failure. It will be for Congress to apply the remedy.Meanwhile you have the thanks of good people for your loyalty to the cause, and your strenuous efforts in its behalf. Go on, I entreat you, nor ever hesitate.I am, dear Sir,Your grateful fellow-laborer,Charles Sumner.

Boston, October 29, 1865.

DEAR MR. EDITOR,—I rejoice that “The Independent” has planted itself firmly on the sure ground of Equal Rights. It is natural that a journal which has from the beginning so bravely and constantly opposed Slavery in all its pretensions should now insist that these pretensions shall be trampled out, so that nothing shall be left to breed future trouble. This can be done only through the establishment of Equal Rights.

To my mind, there never was a duty plainer or more instinctive. It is plain as the Moral Law, and it is instinctive as self-defence. If the country fails to do this justice now, it will commit a crime where guilt and meanness strive for mastery. On this head it is enough to say that it is a debt we owe to saviours and benefactors. But here all the instincts of self-defence harmonize with justice.

For the sake of the whole country, which suffers from weakness in any part,—for the sake of the States lately distracted by war, which above all things need security and repose,—for the sake of agriculture, whichis neglected there,—for the sake of commerce, which has fled,—for the sake of the national creditor, whose generous trust is exposed to repudiation,—and, finally, for the sake of reconciliation, which can be complete only when justice prevails, we must insist upon Equal Rights as the condition of the new order of things. So long as this question remains unsettled, there can be no true peace. Therefore I would say to the merchant, who wishes to open trade with this region,—to the capitalist, who would send his money there,—to the emigrant, who seeks to find a home there,—begin by assuring justice to all men. This is the one essential condition of prosperity, of credit, and of tranquillity. Without this, mercantile houses, banks, and emigration societies, having anything to do with this region, must all fail, or at least suffer in business and resources.

To Congress we must look as guardian, under the Constitution, of the national safety. I do not doubt its full power over the whole subject; nor do I doubt its duty to see that every pretended government organized by recent Rebels is treated as a present nullity. President Johnson then spoke well, when in Tennessee he said that “in the work of reorganization Rebels must take back seats, leaving place to those who have been truly loyal.” There is the key-note of a just policy, which I trust Congress will adopt.

It is difficult to measure the mischief already accumulating from the policy that has been pursued. Looking at the positive loss to business and the productive industry of the country, it is painful. Looking at the distress it has caused among loyal people by the revival of the Rebel spirit, it is heart-rending.Looking at it in any way, it is a terrible failure. It will be for Congress to apply the remedy.

Meanwhile you have the thanks of good people for your loyalty to the cause, and your strenuous efforts in its behalf. Go on, I entreat you, nor ever hesitate.

I am, dear Sir,

Your grateful fellow-laborer,

Charles Sumner.

Article in the Atlantic Monthly, December, 1865.

“Instabile est regnum quod non clementia firmat.”

“Incidis in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim.”

Here are two famous verses, both often quoted, and one a commonplace of literature. That they have passed into proverbs attests their merit both in substance and in form. Something more than truth is needed for a proverb. And so, also, something more than form is needed. Both must concur. The truth must be expressed in such form as to satisfy the requirements of Art.

Most persons, who have not occasionally indulged in such diversions, if asked where these verses are to be found, would say at once that it was in some familiar poet of school-boy days. Both have a sound as of something heard in childhood. The latter is Virgilian in tone and movement. More than once I have heard it insisted that it was by Virgil. But nobody is able to find it there, although the opposite dangers are represented in the voyage of Æneas:—

“Dextrum Scylla latus, lævum implacata Charybdis Obsidet.”[257]

Another poet shows the peril without the contrast:—

“Scylla, et Charybdis Sicula contorquens fretaMinus est timenda: nulla non melior fera est.”[258]

“Scylla, et Charybdis Sicula contorquens freta

Minus est timenda: nulla non melior fera est.”[258]

Thinking of the historical proverb, I am reminded of the eminent character who first showed it to me in the heroic poem where it appears. I refer to the late Dr. Maltby, Bishop of Durham, who had been a favorite pupil of Dr. Parr, and was unquestionably among the best scholars of England. His amenity was equal to his scholarship. I was his guest at Auckland Castle early in the autumn of 1838. Conversation turned much upon books and the curiosities of study. One morning, after breakfast, the learned Bishop came to me with a small volume in his hand, printed in the Italian character, and remarking, “You seem to be interested in such things,” he pointed to this much quoted verse. It was the Latin epic, “Alexandreïs, sive Gesta Alexandri Magni,” by Philippus Gualterus, a mediæval poet of France.

Of course the fable of Scylla and Charybdis is ancient; but this verse cannot be traced to antiquity. For the fable Homer is our highest authority, and he represents the Sirens as unfriendly accessories, playing their part to tempt the victim.

These fronting terrors belong to mythology and to geography. Mythologically, they were two voracious monsters, dwelling opposite to each other,—Charybdis on the coast of Sicily, and Scylla on the coast of Italy. Geographically, they were dangers to the navigator in the narrow strait between Sicily and Italy. Charybdis was a whirlpool, where ships were often sucked to destruction;Scylla was a rock, on which ships were often dashed to pieces.

Ulysses in his wanderings encountered these terrors, but by prudence and the counsels of Circe he was enabled to steer clear between them, although the Sirens strove to lure him on the rock. The story is too long; but there are passages like pictures, and they have been illustrated by the genius of Flaxman. The first danger on the Sicilian side is described in the Odyssey:—

“Beneath, Charybdis holds her boisterous reign’Midst roaring whirlpools, and absorbs the main;Thrice in her gulfs the boiling seas subside,Thrice in dire thunders she refunds the tide.”[259]

“Beneath, Charybdis holds her boisterous reign

’Midst roaring whirlpools, and absorbs the main;

Thrice in her gulfs the boiling seas subside,

Thrice in dire thunders she refunds the tide.”[259]

Endeavoring to shun this peril, the navigator encounters the other:—

“Here Scylla bellows from her dire abodes,Tremendous pest, abhorred by man and gods!…Six horrid necks she rears, and six terrific heads;Her jaws grin dreadful with three rows of teeth;Jaggy they stand, the gaping den of Death.”[260]

“Here Scylla bellows from her dire abodes,

Tremendous pest, abhorred by man and gods!

…

Six horrid necks she rears, and six terrific heads;

Her jaws grin dreadful with three rows of teeth;

Jaggy they stand, the gaping den of Death.”[260]

Not far off were the Sirens, who strove by their music to draw the navigator to certain doom:—

“Their song is death, and makes destruction please.Unblest the man whom music wins to stayNigh the cursed shore and listen to the lay:No more that wretch shall view the joys of life,His blooming offspring or his beauteous wife!”[261]

“Their song is death, and makes destruction please.

Unblest the man whom music wins to stay

Nigh the cursed shore and listen to the lay:

No more that wretch shall view the joys of life,

His blooming offspring or his beauteous wife!”[261]

Forewarned, the wise Ulysses took all precautions against the fatal perils. Avoiding the Sicilian whirlpool, he did not run upon the Italian rock or yield to the voice of the charmer. And yet he could not renounce the opportunity of hearing the melody. Stuffingthe ears of his companions with wax, so that they could not be entranced by the Sirens, or comprehend any countermanding order which his weakness might induce him to utter, he had himself tied to the mast,—like another Farragut,—and directed that the ship should be steered straight on. It was steered straight on, although he cried out to stop. His deafened companions heard nothing of the song or the countermand,—

“Till, dying off, the distant sounds decay.”

The dangers of both coasts were at length passed, not without the loss of six men, “chiefs of renown,” who became the prey of Scylla. But the Sirens, humbled by defeat, dashed themselves upon the rocks and disappeared forever.

Few stories have been more popular. It was natural that it should enter into poetry and suggest a proverb. St. Augustine uses it, when he says, “Ne iterum, quasi fugiens Charybdim, in Scyllam incurras.”[262]Milton more than once alludes to it. Thus, in the exquisite “Comus,” he shows these opposite terrors subdued by another power:—

“Scylla weptAnd chid her barking waves into attention,And fell Charybdis murmured soft applause.”[263]

“Scylla wept

And chid her barking waves into attention,

And fell Charybdis murmured soft applause.”[263]

In the “Paradise Lost,” while portraying Sin, the terrible portress at the gates of Hell, the poet repairs to this story for illustration:—

“Far less abhorred than these,Vexed Scylla, bathing in the sea that partsCalabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore.”[264]

“Far less abhorred than these,

Vexed Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts

Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore.”[264]

And then again, when picturing Satan escaping from pursuit, he shows him

“harder beset,And more endangered, than when Argo passedThrough Bosphorus betwixt the justling rocks;Or when Ulysses on the larboard shunnedCharybdis, and by the other whirlpool steered.”[265]

“harder beset,

And more endangered, than when Argo passed

Through Bosphorus betwixt the justling rocks;

Or when Ulysses on the larboard shunned

Charybdis, and by the other whirlpool steered.”[265]

But, though frequently employing the story, Milton did not use the proverb, and here transforms at least one of the dangers.

Not only the story, but the proverb, was known to Shakespeare, who makes Launcelot use it in his plain talk with Jessica:—“Truly, then, I fear you are damned both by father and mother: thus, when I shun Scylla, your father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother: well, you are gone both ways.”[266]Malone, in his note, written in the last century, says: “Alluding to the well-known line of a modern Latin poet, Philippe Gualtier, in his poem entitled ‘Alexandreïs.’” To this testimony of Malone’s, another editor, George Steevens, whose early bibliographical tastes excited the praise of Dibdin, adds: “Several translations of this adage were obvious to Shakespeare. Among other places, it is found in an ancient poem entitled ‘A Dialogue betweenCustom and Veritie, concerning the use and abuse of Dauncing and Minstrelsie’:—

“‘While Silla they do seem to shun,In Charibd they do fall.’”

“‘While Silla they do seem to shun,

In Charibd they do fall.’”

But this proverb had already passed into tradition and speech. That Shakespeare should seize and use it was natural. He was the universal absorbent.

It did not require a Shakespeare to appropriate it. Brantôme, who wrote rather from hearing than study, so that his style is a record of contemporary language,in describing a great lady who escaped from Turks to fall into the hands of domestic robbers, likens the case to falling from Scylla to Charybdis.[267]A similar illustration drops from La Fontaine:—

“La vieille, au lieu du coq, les fit tomber par làDe Charybde en Scylla.”[268]

“La vieille, au lieu du coq, les fit tomber par là

De Charybde en Scylla.”[268]

Thomson shows that it was a common illustration, when he describes Dunkirk as

“the Scylla sinceAnd fell Charybdis of the British seas.”[269]

“the Scylla since

And fell Charybdis of the British seas.”[269]

Mr. Webster, in an argument before the Supreme Court of the United States, quotes and applies the words of Virgil describing these opposite perils, and warns against Charybdis.[270]The great orator of ancient Rome, in his second Philippic, where Mark Antony is assailed with all his splendid ability, after picturing the culprit as seizing and squandering an enormous property, exclaims: “What Charybdis was ever so voracious? Charybdis do I say?—who, if she existed at all, was a single animal.”[271]Antony is worse than Charybdis, but there is no allusion to the sister peril. The proverb had no existence at that time.

The history of this verse seemed for a while forgotten. Like the Wandering Jew, it was a vagrant, unknown in origin, but having perpetual life. Erasmus, with learningso vast, quotes it, with the variationIncidit, forIncidis, in his great work on Proverbs, and owns that he does not remember its author. Here is the confession: “Celebratur apud Latinos hic versiculus, quocunque natus auctore, nam in præsentia non occurrit”: “This little verse is a commonplace among Latin writers, whoever the author,—for he does not at present occur to me.”[272]But, though unable to recall its origin, it is clear that the idea it embodies found much favor with this representative of moderation. He dwells on it with particular sympathy, and reproduces it in various forms. This is the equivalent on which he hangs his commentary: “Evitata Charybdi, in Scyllam incidi.”[273]It is easy to see how inferior in form is this to the much quoted verse. It seems to be a rendering of some Greek iambics, also of uncertain origin, preserved by Apostolius,[274]one of the learned Greeks scattered over Europe by the fall of Constantinople. Erasmus quotes also another proverb with the same signification: “Fumum fugiens, in ignem incidi,”[275]which warns against running into the fire to avoid the smoke; and yet another, rendered from the Greek of Lucian: “Ignoraveram autem quod, juxta proverbium, ex fumo in ipsum ignem compellerer”: “But I didn’t know, that, according to the proverb, I should be driven from the smoke into the fire itself.”[276]Horace teaches that fools shunning vices run upon the opposite:—

“Dum vitant stulti vitia, in contraria currunt”;

and then he describes one man as smelling of pastils, and another of the goat:—

“Pastilles Rufillus olet, Gorgonius hircum.”[277]

Erasmus quotes words of kindred sentiment from the “Phormio” of Terence: “Ita fugias, ne præter casam”: which he tells us means that we should not so fly from any vice as to be incautiously carried into a greater.[278]In his letters the ancient fable recurs more than once. On one occasion he warns against the dangers of youth, and says, “Instead of the ears with wax, as in the Homeric story, the mind must be carefully sealed by the precepts of Philosophy.”[279]Again he avows fear, lest, shunning Scylla, he fall on a much worse Charybdis: “Nunc vereor ne sic vitemus hanc Scyllam, ut incidamus in Charybdim multo perniciosiorem.”[280]And the same fear appears yet again, where he describes his straits: “In has angustias protrusus sum, ut mihi, si Scyllam fugero, in Charybdim sit incidendum.”[281]On another occasion he pictures himself as exposed in his expenses to the most voracious Charybdises: “Ex his conjecturam facias licebit, quemadmodum hic dilabantur nummi, ubi nihil non meo sumptu geritur, et est mihi res cum duabus Charybdibus voracissimis.”[282]The following is cited by Jortin from another letter of Erasmus:“Some say slanderously that I keep a medium. I confess it is a very impious thing to keep a medium between Christ and Belial; but I think it prudential to keep a medium between Scylla and Charybdis.”[283]Thus did his instinctive prudence find expression in this favorite illustration.

If Erasmus were less illustrious for learning, perhaps if his countenance were less interesting, as we look upon it in the immortal portraits by two great artists, Hans Holbein and Albert Dürer, I should not be tempted to dwell on this confession of ignorance. And yet it belongs to the history of this verse, which has had strange ups and downs. The poem from which it is taken, after enjoying early renown, was forgotten,—and then again, after a revival, was forgotten, again to enjoy another revival. The last time it was revived through this solitary verse, without which, I cannot doubt, it would have expired forever.

Even before the days of Erasmus, who died in 1536, this verse had been lost and found. It was circulated as a proverb of unknown origin, when Galeotto Marzio—an Italian of infinite wit and learning,[284]who flourished in the latter half of the fifteenth century, and was for some time instructor of the children of Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary—pointed out its author. In a work ofAna, amusing and instructive, entitled “De Doctrina Promiscua,” which first saw the light in Latin, and was afterwards translated into Italian, the learned author says: “Hoc carmen est Gualteri Galli de Gestis Alexandri, et non vagum proverbium, ut quidam non omnino indocti meminerunt.” It was not a vague proverb, as some persons not altogether unlearned havesupposed, but a verse of the “Alexandreïs.” And yet shortly afterwards the great master of proverbs, whose learning seemed to know no bounds, could not fix its origin. At a later day, Pasquier, in his “Recherches de la France,” made substantially the same remark as Marzio. After alluding to the early fame of its author, he says: “C’est luy dans les œuvres duquel nous trouvons un vers souvent par nous allegué, sans que plusieurs sçachient qui en fut l’auteur.” In quoting the verse, the French author usesDeciditinstead ofIncidis.[285]The discovery by Marzio, and the repetition of this discovery by Pasquier, are chronicled at a later day in the Conversations of Ménage,[286]who found a French Boswell before that of Dr. Johnson was born. Jortin, in the elaborate notes to his Life of Erasmus, borrows from Ménage, and gives the same history.[287]

When Galeotto Marzio made his discovery, the poem was still in manuscript; but there were printed editions before the “Adagia” of Erasmus. An eminent authority—the “Histoire Littéraire de la France,” that great work, commenced by the Benedictines, and continued by the French Academy—says that it was printed for the first time at Strasbourg, in 1513.[288]This is a mistake which has been repeated by Warton.[289]Brunet, in his “Manuel du Libraire,” mentions an edition, without place or date, with the cipher of Guillaume Le Talleur, a printer at Rouen in 1487.[290]Panzer, in his “Annales Typographici,” describes another edition, with the monogramof Richard Pynson, the London printer at the close of the fifteenth century.[291]Beloe, in his “Anecdotes of Literature,” also speaks of an edition with the imprint of Pynson.[292]There also appears to have been an edition under date of 1496. Then came the Strasbourg edition of 1513, by J. Adelphus. All these are in black letter. Next was the Ingolstadt edition, in 1541, in Italic, or, as it is called by the French, “cursive characters,” with a brief life of the poet, by Sebastian Link. This was followed, in 1558, by an edition at Lyons, also in Italic, announced as now for the first time appearing in France, “nunc primum in Gallia,” which was a mistake. This edition seems to have enjoyed peculiar favor. It has been strangely confounded with imaginary editions which never existed: thus, the Italian Quadrio notes especially one at London, in 1558;[293]and the French Millin assures us that the best was at Leyden, in 1558.[294]No such editions appeared; and the only edition of that year was at Lyons. After the lapse of a century, in 1659, there was another edition, by Athanasius Gugger, a monk of the Monastery of St. Gall, published at the Monastery itself, from manuscripts there, and with its own types, “formis ejusdem.” The editor was ignorant of the previous editions, and in his preface announces the poem asa new work, although ancient,—never before printed, to his knowledge,—eagerly regarded and desired by many,—and not less venerable for antiquity than for erudition:“En tibi, candide Lector, opus novum, ut sit antiquum, nusquam, quod sciam, editum, a multis cupide inspectum et desideratum, non minus antiquitate quam eruditione venerabile.”[295]This edition seems to have been repeated at St. Gall in 1693; and these two, which were the last, appear to have been the best. From that time the poem rested undisturbed until our own day, when it found a place in that magnificent collection of patristic learning, the “Patrologiæ Cursus Completus” of Migne.[296]Such an edition ought to be useful in determining the text, for there must be numerous manuscripts in the Paris libraries. As long ago as 1795 there were no less than nineteen in the National Library, and also a manuscript at Tours, which had drawn forth a curious commentary by M. de Foncemagne.[297]

I ought not to forget here that in 1537 a passage from this poem was rendered into English blank verse, and is an early monument of our language. This was by Nicholas Grimoald, a native of Huntingdonshire, whose translation is entitled “The Death of Zoroas, an Egyptian Astronomer, in the First Fight that Alexander had with the Persians.”[298]This is not the only token of the attention it awakened in England. Alexander Ross, chaplain of Charles the First, and author, famous from a couplet of “Hudibras,” made preparations for an edition. His dedicatory letter was written, bearing date 1644, with two different sets of dedicatory verses, and verses from his friend David Echlin, the scholarly physician to the king,[299]who had given him this “great treasure.” But the work failed to appear. The identical copy presented by Echlin, with many marginal notes from Quintus Curtius and others, ismentioned as belonging to the Bishop of Ely at the beginning of the present century.[300]But the homage of the Scotchman still exists in his Dedicatory Epistle: “Si materiam consideres, elegantissimam utilissimamque historiam gestorum Alexandri magni continet; certe, sive stylum, sive subjectum inspicias, dignam invenies quæ omnium teratur manibus, quamque adolescentes

‘Nocturna versentque manu, versentque diurna.’”[301]

It will be observed that he borrows superlatives to praise this poem as “most elegant and most useful,” and by style and subject worthy of the daily and nightly study of youth. In his verses Ross declares Alexander not less fortunate in his poet than the Greek chieftain in Homer:—

“Si felix præcone fuit dux Græcus Homero,Felix nonne tuo est carmine dux Macedo?”[302]

“Si felix præcone fuit dux Græcus Homero,

Felix nonne tuo est carmine dux Macedo?”[302]

There was also another edition planned in France, during the latter part of the last century, by M. Daire, the librarian of the Celestines in Paris, founded on the Latin text, according to the various manuscripts, with a French translation; but this never appeared.[303]

Until its late appearance in the collection of Migne, it was only in ancient editions that this poem could be found. Of course these are rare. The British Museum, in its immense treasure-house, has the most important, one of which belonged to the invaluable legacy of the late Mr. Grenville. The copy in the library of Lord Spencer is the Lyons edition of 1558. By a singular fortune, this volume was missing some time ago from its place on the shelves; but it hassince been found; and I have now before me a tracing from its title-page. My own copy—and the only one which I know this side of the Atlantic—is the Ingolstadt edition. It once belonged to John Mitford, and has on the fly-leaves notes in the autograph of this honored lover of books.

Bibliography dwells with delight upon this poem, although latterly the interest centres in a single line. Brunet does full justice to it. So does his jealous rival, Graesse, except where he blunders. Watt, in his “Bibliotheca Britannica,” under the name “Galtherus, Philip,” mentions the Lyons edition of 1558, on which he remarks, “The typography is very singular”; and then, under the name “Gualterus, de Castelliona,” he mentions the edition of St. Gall in 1659. Curiously, the learned bibliographer seems to suppose these two editions to be different works, by different authors,—as they stand far apart, and without reference from one to the other. Clarke, in his “Repertorium Bibliographicum,” bearing date 1819, where he gives an account of the most celebrated British libraries, mentions a copy of the first edition in the library of Mr. Steevens,[304]who showed his knowledge of the poem in his notes to Shakespeare; also a copy of the Lyons edition of 1558 in the library of the Marquis of Blandford, afterwards Duke of Marlborough. This learned bibliographer has a note calling attention to the fact that “there are variations in the famous disputed line in different editions of this poem,”—that in the first edition the line begins “Corruis in Syllam” but in the Lyons edition “Incidis in Scyllam” while, as we have already seen, Pasquiersays, “Decidit in Scyllam.”[305]Lowndes, in his “Bibliographer’s Manual,” says of the poem, “In it will be found that trite verse so often repeated, ‘Incidis,’” etc.,—words which seem borrowed from Beloe.[306]“Trite” is hardly respectful.

Very little is known of the author. He is called in Latin Philippus Gualterus or Galterus; in French it is sometimes Gaultier and sometimes Gautier. The French biographical dictionaries, whether of Michaud or Didot, attest the number of persons with this name, of all degrees and professions. There was the Norman knightsans Avoir, a chief of the first Crusade. There also was another Gautier, known as the Sire d’Yvetot, stabbed to death by his sovereign, Clotaire, who is said afterwards in penitence to have erected the lordship of Yvetot into that kingdom which Béranger has immortalized. And there have been others in every walk of life. Fabricius, in his “Bibliotheca Latina Mediæ et Infimæ Ætatis,”[307]mentions no less than seventy-two Latin authors of this name. A single verse has saved one of these from the oblivion that has overtaken the multitude.

He was born at Lille, but at what precise date is uncertain. Speaking generally, it may be said that he lived and wrote during the second half of the twelfth century, while Louis the Seventh and Philip Augustus were kings of France, and Henry the Second and Richard Cœur-de-Lion ruled England, one century after Abélard, and one century before Dante. After studying at Paris, he went to establish himself at Châtillon,—but it is not known at which of the numerous townsof this name in France. Here he was charged with the direction of the schools, and became known by the name of the town, as appears in the epitaph, ambitiously suggestive of Virgil, which he wrote for himself:—

Back to Index Next